Soul of an Artist

Photo Credit- The New York Times I’m an early 2000's baby. So I grew up in the era where technology was still a baby. Where the rich families had the TV with the big behind.. insert laugh.. Back when celebrities wore the same clothes as everyone else. Where music was authentic and not about big butts. When reggae was soothing and played on the radio. When soap operas were the now series. Back when Judge Ian on Tusker Project Fame was considered the savage of savages. When the whole country watched Storm over Paradise. Where if you wanted to listen to music on a phone all you could listen to was the phones' ringtones. When Nokia and Motorola were the it phones. Waiting for photos almost a month after taking them. Or listening to music on cassettes and watching 20 movies on one disk. The era of blu-ray. What a time. Where only parents had phones. When your mother warned you about playing with the neighbors kids and against visiting their homes. Before boarding schools were a thin...

photo credit - pinterest I am a guest in my own home. That's what he said. I am a stranger to my own people I realized. Understand where I'm coming from Yet oblivious to where I came from He took me away from my father's house He promised my father to do right by me.  Daddy, he didn't, he lied He took me to his home "Don't get too comfortable This is not your home I can chase you whenever I like I can do to you whatever I want You don't have a home" Nowhere to go No one to turn to He took me from home To make me a prisoner in his home

Photo credits- Amina Live Foundation A sigh of relief. A breath of fresh air. A community of like minded people. It was the miracle I didn't know I needed. I don't want to sound like I'm overselling it or I'm painting it out to be better than it actually is. I'm really not. In fact, if anything, I am underselling it. Honestly, it was among my first major wins of 2023. Where do I start? Let's start from the beginning. I got the application from a Whatsapp group. You know, among those many applications that are sent, one just calls out to you. It was an easy application. They didn't make my work too hard like other job applications that you have to jump through 1000 hoops just to get to the application itself. But, I had to sell myself. There was a section where you had to write 100 words describing yourself. I'm a writer, that shouldn't be too hard right? Wrong. I decided, in that moment, sitting at my desk, in the kitchen, write from the heart. Don...

Photo Credit- Mark Manson I wish I was brave.  Brave enough to love you loudly.  I wish I was courageous.  Courageous enough to go after what I wanted.  You.  I wish I didn't care what they thought.  Cause while I cared what they thought.  They were busy doing what I wanted to do.  I wish I let them judge me.  Cause now I realize,  I don't care much for their opinion anyway.  And I lost a gem collecting rocks.  I lost so many moments, so many opportunities.  Hiding myself from you.  While all you wanted from me was to reveal myself.  We were a perfect fit, I see that now.  As I look back, all I feel is regret.  So this is what regret feels like.  The words unsaid leave me in a chokehold.  All I feel is anger and pain.  Anger towards them but mostly me.  And pain for the lost opportunities.  You saw me, I saw you.  But I was afraid.   I'm afraid it's too late for...

Photo Credit- The Dictionary of Female Feelings It's all vain. All of it. But it's the vanity that makes it interesting. It's the vanity we want to see. We want to hear the lies. We want to drink the poison because it looks good. It's the vanity that has a sweet scent, pleasing to the nose. Our imagination makes this easier for us. We can choose what to see. We can choose to be blind to what's staring at us. To what's right in front of us. We tell ourselves what we want to hear. Because it's easier for everyone. We don't want the truth. No. The truth is bitter. It won't go down without a fight. The truth stinks. It is ugly. It repulses all our senses. So we choose to wear our rose coloured lenses. But in doing so, we slowly rot. We decompose without even realizing it. Eventually, the smell overpowers us. Our rose coloured lenses wear out. And even our imagination won't be there to shield us.

They are all interconnected. Well, to me they are. The cycle starts anywhere. It takes any shape or form. For me, it started with oblivion. I was so oblivious to the things that were around me. It was quite peaceful. The most peaceful I had ever been. You know what they say, ignorance is bliss. I was happy, content. Until I wasn't. I couldn't tell what came next. All I knew was it disrupted my peace. Shook up my world and now it wasn't as peaceful anymore. It started small, slowly growing. I thought I could ignore it, supress it, but it wasn't having any of that. It wanted to be heard, to be seen and to make some noise. Where did it come from, nobody knew. But it was here with us. And it didn't look like it was leaving any time soon. Then came the void. This was the worst part. Feeling empty. Feeling nothing. Apathy, but not the good kind. The kind that eats you up from the inside out. That tears you down brick by brick. Slowly. Chip by chip. The only sound that...

I still can't believe it. Nobody can. Rastaman. That's what most people used to identify you as. But that's not all you were. You were a son, a homie, a student, a classmate, a brother, a friend and most importantly, you were kind and generous. You blended in wherever you went and it was easy to talk to you. Your calm and gentle aura could calm even the rowdiest of souls. Very clean always happy and didn't want to see anyone down. A good listener who always uplifted the people you met. Anyone could strike up a conversation with you and leave feeling a little bit lighter. Everyone liked you. And everyone feels this loss. When 2023 began, I never imagined something like this was in store for us. You were a friend of a friend when I first met you but then you became my friend almost immediately. I remember your phone calls needing my help to know where the venue of a certain class or exam was. Or when you needed a group for a class assignment. Back then I complained abou...