Drowning while already drowned

Exhale. I have been wanting to write since my return now and couldn’t and didn’t while having used the excuse of having the laptop being repaired by my sister. She did and now I felt that excusing myself was a bit too much. Besides, I couldn’t sleep anymore. It’s jet lag I suppose.

My grandmother is dead. Both of my grandparents on father’s side now are deceased. I remember the craziness of February 4th when I woke up still in daze from my other slumber of having the feeling that I’ve drowned already from “failure” to imminently being told that she is not well. I meddled in booking the trip to see her and not wanting my father to be alone….it’s such a painful journey, then I finally faced the consequence of having to face an even slimmer bank account after an unexpected expense of purchasing the unplanned ticket for a flight coming up in a few hours….it was done.

The plane ride. I didn’t truthfully know what to feel. If I could feel even really. We got through it. Surreal. Then we arrived. Just like that, BAAM a different setting again. Warm weather, not bullshit of racist choking dogma, a country full of brown and black people again. Again….

It hit me that grandmother was already dead when riding in the car. Before that I was still naive in a way and unknowing of what was happening. Then I got it. It is utterly too late. She already passed away. Though we arrived on the most fastest flight possible, grandmother’s flesh was already empty and her soul and body warmth never to be witnessed by my father nor I again. Not here anymore at least. I remember vaguely not looking out of the car windows anymore during that ride, a feeling of not caring and knowing where I was going (I don’t know the city of Addis like that anyways) and just feeling that it was irrelevant anyways. Then we arrived. People, so many people who were crying and screaming. Then the wooden box. Grandma inside but I was unable to see her anymore as she was shut closed. The same room with the table holding her straight in the living room which I vowed and looked forward to visiting soon. How did I not recognize that 5 years almost passed since that promise was last made? What the fuck is the point question, crossed my mind again…at least began to pop up it’s seeds in my mind at that moment.

I felt paralyzed. I couldn’t go and touch the casket. It felt like a blur. I never touched grandma for the last time before she was whisked into the graveyard, a day later. I remember losing breath and nearly collapsing at the church site after the burial when the claustrophobia of so many people and and a hike to get to the church in the sun finally caught up with me. I had to kneel down, with stamina I gasped but did not faint. I was panicking. My aunt allowed me the space and I was able to get out of the crowd to sit down away from it. I remember sleeping later after that for some hours.

Grandmother is gone now.

 

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I’m Back

Though really I have written just in different places and spaces. Just went browsing down below to read my previous posts. It’s been a while. Like nearly 4 years while. In that time I have written in other spaces, the most prolonged one being my Peace Corps journals which have now vanished. Gratitude (with sarcasm and a sense of wanting to beat someone up) is given to the forces and circumstances which have led to their loss. Last August en route from Ghana to Berlin. I’m sure the customs at Tegel has enjoyed my private thoughts…fick dich (whoever) for enjoying them. Anyways, no need to get too much into that mood.

I haven’t written in ages online really. I think I’ve written a post not too long ago maybe in November of 2016 on one of my older blogs, but honestly I doubt I’ll go back to that site again. It carries too much of the past. Though my memory might not be too good, and this I do not say lightly, it truly is troubling when I’m exceptionally honest with myself, the point to which I recognize how short my memory is on things – it’s well alarming. Probably something I should look into checking while I have my health insurance before this new American regime continues it’s extermination and terrorization of my Brown existance. It’s the era of resistance. Anyways, it feels good to write actually. It really does.

Also while browsing through some emails an inspiration came to mind. I want to find a creative way to share and explore for myself my 1 year and 9 months in West Africa. A tumultuous experience really which ended in a way of being tossed away…. Perhaps a photo exhibition – with music….Ein Fotoausstellung…..something like that? Yeah? Yeah? I think I should do that….

Art and creativity heal after all, don’t they?

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Random thoughts

This is it. Life does not stop, no wait it does but only when you are dead. At least the kind of life that we know IN any case, the point is this is the last day of the month. November 30. 

The holiday season has been proving to be quite heavy for me. I get it now. It’s ok, there is no self judgement in that. I’m healing and it might take a long time too and that is also ok. Self judgment is not part of my lifestyle…at least intentionally. It creeps up on me at times but I like to think that I tame that monster efficiently whenever I can. 

Last week I walked my talk. The hair did get chopped. The liberation of it all was indescribable as in literally I do not have the words to describe it. It was a feeling and IS a feeling that found a new tenancy within my soul, my whole being. My new tapered fro is my new love. My best friend left me a voicemail complimenting me that I look very “Purple Rainish” a.k.a. Prince like! Yes I will take that one. Overall the love on my hair has been very nice to hear, the support is very appreciated and cherished. Above all I think it is obvious also to people that it is not only about hair. It’s much deeper than that. It is for me. I did this for the little girl in me that grew up with tough self-thoughts and skewed self-image which was affected by her surroundings. I did it for my present self who is becoming into a woman. And I did it for my future self who will someday become a mother to children who will undoubtedly look up to me. In a nutshell something like that. Something like that while so much more. At the moment I do not want to see a single straight hair coming out of my head. Straighteners step away! There is something fascinating though in seeing your face more vividly sans hair in the way….this is a big bag to talk about. 

In the past couple of days I have been waking up with a mixed array of feelings. Mostly heavy once and throughout the day it has been roller coaster kind of situation. I think I am in mourning. For people and feelings of last year, this year…lifetime? Not sure it is hard to explain. I haven’t meditated yesterday and need to catch up. The challenge is going to be over in 2 days! Ughhh I’m going to miss it. Really. I’m glad my sister is recording the sessions so that  could revisit them over and over again. They are really deep and soul wrenching like really deep! Not so easy to handle but very helpful and rich as well. I guess that’s also life in a nutshell – sweet and sour, heavy and light!

I think I’m just learning to love myself. For real this time around. I thought I always did, yes I do in a way but there is a path to still undergo for real self-love and a compassionate relationship with myself. In all forms. I’ll go meditate now. Seizing the moment at it’s inception is always a good thing.  

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