“I first noticed the smell when she came to visit after harvesting.” “And you knew it was possession right away?” It was a familiar skepticism Iljgbe had heard before. The same cycle of questioning. However this time he failed to mask annoyance on his boyish face. “Sorry, what I meant to say was..did you feel something was wrong as soon as she … Continue reading .motɔ jukwe
Here’s one of my old poems. I’ll be adding them regularly on this post, so enjoy! #1 – Glued Iʼve checked my phone 37 times since I sent that message. Itʼs been 10 seconds since I checked it last, so unsurprisingly I start to eye it again My night was distant. As usual, my mind was elsewhere. It was at the edge of your cliff … Continue reading .poetic justice
I am at the second leg of my journey as I cast one tired foot infront of another and board the bus. The woman selling oranges isn’t bellowing her usual tune: Ankaaaaa Ankaaaaa As well as that, the sky is still a waning blue-I’ve made good time to get home early today, I thought to myself. This bus looked comfortable so my knees won’t suffer. … Continue reading .bus blues
They say that to love someone else, you need to love yourself.
That to save the world. You need to save yourself.
Love yourself. Save the world. Continue reading The Love Tapes:
‘Do you feel it yet?’ Zabib looked up and blinked furiously before looking Toffic dead in the eye and firmly shaking is head, pursing his lips in disappointment . ‘I don’t get it man, I googled it and someone on the internet said 40 to 50 minu-.’ ‘- how long’s it been? Fifteen?’ ‘No, ‘Bib it’s been two hours.’ They both sighed, and looked back … Continue reading .trip
I did some calculations and it turns out, seeing as I am now working a full time job, from Monday to Friday, I have only 4 hours each day, at a minimum to do what I want, i.e. producing, smoking weed, spending time with family, whatever. What this conclusion led me to believe was that there isn’t enough time in life to waste it … Continue reading .4 hours
Originally posted on somebodywrites:
? ? Today marks exactly a year since I returned to Zambia from studying in the UK. One year on and this is still me. Staring at the emptiness before me, in the town that saw many goodbyes and tears and uncertainties and suitcases and £8 return tickets. I have developed a relationship with emptiness. It started with wanting to drown… Continue reading Always Bold. Forever Broken: on emptiness and solitude