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Showing posts from July, 2014

Place of Grace

I watched his eyes as they changed colour as the sun cast its light on them; “Hazel Nut’’ he calls the colour, but I don’t have a stored up colour palate in my head. All I see are varying shades of brown that I can’t differentiate and yes every shade is beautiful. I watched him laugh loudly as he walked towards his guitar, you know the guitar has a name, TITI and we always talk about it like it is a living human being with a heart and emotion we are all supposed to treat TITI with utmost care.  The first day I really met him 13th of March 2013, yes I love dates and this one is pretty significant to the both of us, it is his birthday and the day I stayed indoors and forced myself to make life changing decisions and in many ways than one it was the start of something new for the both of us, the beginning of a really long friendship.   So feeling liberated and hurt, I walked to church still thinking of all the pain I was sure my eyes showed. I sat at my usually spot for evening service and …

The Gift of Writing

Expressing myself by speaking is never easy; I run through my sentences. If you are not concentrating when I speak you would not hear the words I say. I come from a family of fast talkers. When we have visitors over they struggle to keep up with our conversations. Good thing is that we understand ourselves. We are in sync with our fast speech. So the first identifiable misconception on my part; assuming the rest of the world is like my family in respect to talking. I don’t like the sound of my voice, in my head I sound one way; I sound soft beautiful like the warm voices that writers describe in novels; in reality I sound far from that. When I hear recordings of myself I cringe at the sound of my voice; in reality my voice is so thin, sounds almost cute like that of a coy school girl, ‘’Almost’’ being the operative word. Second problem I have with speaking. I discovered books at an early age; I have a father that would give you a book for your birthday instead of the skip rope you ask…