Where is life spear heading to? Like for real? The glossy Instagram photos of people I follow is sometimes overwhelming. I mean I am balancing overwhelming senses and controlled calmness each time I a looking at these IG statuses.

Last night I had an active dream of being lost inside a building while unable and being not helped by people to find a path to get over to the next building it was connected to in my dream. The passage way was nowhere to be found. When I woke up this morning I googled some interpretations of being lost in a dream were. The common thread is that they represent experiencing anxiety and feeling at a crossroads, or lost in life. Check mark right there for me indeed.

Gone are the good old days of my free spirit self. Anyways, I’m rusty and the weather is bipolar around these bits too.


Random relief

Breath baby girl. Breath, in and then let it all out. Yes, out and then a little bit all will come in too.

I really have to let it go. Really. Like for real for real for real for real for real realz! Phew. It always feels so much better just letting the thoughts roll onto my writing. Letting go. Letting it go.

“So ask myself do I let you go or I keep you in the frame of my mind.” ~ Jorja

This world is tiny as FUCK! I know people there and then they know each other from here and meet in place X.

Teddy Pendergrass also said it damn well right! “You can’t hide from yourself” DAMN RIGHT

You can’t hide from yourself no-matter where you go, you will always look at yourself!


Going there…

Yesterday I wrote about how I am just numb, and have been rather on the numbness train for a while now. It comes in waves, it came in big swoops a few years ago, now it’s better. I mean, more importantly than saying this out loud (or typing and sharing about this numbness) I am happy to actually feel better about admitting it is a path to empowerment and healing and shows reflection. Yep

Also I am realizing more and more, and more with progression of my time on this planet, through my lived experiences that Racism is strong, vile and it’s crippling. Yes, it’ crippling.  I mean really crippling. Compounded by learning more and more about how it actually affects you too is rather uneasy – that’s lightly said.

The existance thus of the Brown and Black body in this type of environment is truthfully a form of resilience and out most power! Yes, power, the kind of power that this racist world doesn’t want you to overcome.

Some thoughts.


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.



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?



The Russian Soul of an African & American me. I really think this is why I am able to empathize and have hunger for the world and it’s people. This is something I am convinced of I have in me.

Peace Corps in many ways I think you are calling me more than I thought I was ready for when I began to pursue you again back in September. I am still fresh in the application process with an interview happening hopefully as early as January, but something tells me it was not all in vain and by an accident that I pressed the send button before I was ready to submit my application two months ago.

I crave to be believed in and supported to pursue something very big in my life. I need it. I ask the Universe to unveil that which is destined for me to grow with and from.

I have also conteplated for months now to just write the X. YES I KNOW THE CONVENTIONAL BULLSHIT stuff that you shouldn’t, yadda, yadda, yadda stuff. But I am me, and I am unafraid to live by my truth. Plus falling flat on my face has showed me that I am resilient, kind, generous, still loving and very much unique in my own ways. Plus yesterday it already made me feel much better after literally months of what felt like growing a mini ball of sadness even inside my body. Let him laugh, or just erase the messages. I am shamelessly unashamed and what the heck do I have to lose in being brave? Nothing. For when you bare it all you are prepared to be naked and that I mean by being naked in your soul. The other nakedness has already been shared.

Perhaps because “the point is to free yourself from what cost your heart even more…” and that is the love which was shared some distant days ago….

In the meantime I am banning myself from facebook for at least two days. Wow.



It happened. I was at work and was harboring a feeling of wanting to run away. This happened last year a couple of months before I went to Europe. It happened again today. I think it is the growing anxiety of many things. The coming of end of the year 2013 which at some points in trying to describe it leaves me speechless. Like now…..no words to really describe it all.

Confused? No this is beyond confusion. I set out to do the meditations and one day at work wrote a note that at the end of it I want some kind of resolution to be reached in dealing with what happened in June. It is officially December 1 and the last day of the 21 day Meditation series. Shit. 

I don’t even recognize 100% the girl who looks at me back in the mirror. Seems even my “big chop” is being trumped by this uneasy, and maybe confusing feeling growing within me. How did I get to this point? How did I get myself emotionally to this point in my life? Should I freak out and panic? I think I have a little bit of that going on already anyways, just really trying to keep it all under some sort of control. I am turning 26 next week. I booked a trip to NYC, the first trip since being back from Europe also for next weekend. Can I handle it all? The list of outstanding things that I must do and am a little bit paralyzed to finalize seems to be crippling me down too. But no one makes me do these things. I am the pusher of it all. Yes, this is a freak out moment. I don’t know how else to describe it. 

Ok. I tried to take my mind off of things for a moment. It helped. I have a headache now. I don’t think the “how” and “why” questions help at all. I know the don’t. This is how things are that is all I must accept. It’s ok to have intense moments like these. I did not stop doing anything since being back from Europe. I just kept pressing the gas pedal on living. I think this all makes sense. It’s a heavy season with lot’s of baggage. It is all alright. I am alright. 

I love that I have writing to go to when it gets this heavy, because it has been even hard to write which is is my form of therapy to say the least. Deep breath in and a long one out. Life continues. I am still blessed and endlessly grateful. Fear, hurt, doubt and anything else that is not inspirational will not hold me down. Yet I am allowed to bow my head down at moments when they are proving to be hard. Resilience.