The One about Gifting a Rasta.

(I'm in the process of putting up work that I'm not comfortable putting up just because it makes me feel inadequate, so, be kind.) I know I'm not a Bobo Shanti or a Nyabinghi. I don't eat ital: I'm eating chicken as I type this. I and I nuh speak dreadtalk. I don't smoke; even…

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The One with the Big Bad Wolf.

(trigger warning : depression + self-harm) I want depression to be as cathartic as it is catastrophic. But most times, it's just a motherfucker that won't let you eat, sleep, fuck, read or breathe. And I don't know what to do sometimes when it's got its foot on my neck and I'm helpless. I want…

The One with the Szechuan Sauce.

I don't like going on dates. I get uncomfortable. I feel so compelled to converse that I forget everything I could possibly contribute. I keep wondering if I'm eating right; if you're bothered by how loud I am when I take a sip. Am I using really weird metaphors? Am I making enough eye-contact? It's all…

The One with Pops.

A Mitsubishi Galant. That was my dad's first car. KVP something-something. I grew up knowing it had my name on it. See, he'd told me that the KVP stood for Ken, Victoria, and Pripri. I'm pretty sure he did this to remind me that my government name wasn't the name he called me: Stim. Interesting…

The One with the Periodic Table.

I've long accepted the fact that there are some things I might never understand. Like, Microbiology or why in the world those girls in Always ads are so fucking happy. Do these people have any idea what periods are like? Anyway, here's a table of things I need/want on my period. A Periodic table. (Yup, this…

The One with the Marauders.

  I met my best friends through Jesus. (yes, life is full of little ironies.) I met Wangu in class 8. On Sundays, their boarding school used to come to my church. I only went to church because my house was so full yet so infuriatingly quiet on Sunday mornings and that bothered me. Wangu's…

The One with the Awkward Stage.

Not-so-fun fact: Regardless of how bad you want it, you cannot (and will not) Simone Biles your way out of the awkward stage. The awkward stage is, well, the first couple of months after locking your hair throughout which your head looks like a cross between bald patches and a sisal plantation. A lot of…