Withering Heights II

I’m up at 5am.  I sleep off until 6 and then finally jump up at 7am. I’ve been checking my notifications by the hour. 5am notification about some random reply to a comment I made on a post on Facebook, 6am notification about someone getting married on my high school group chat and 7am notificationContinue reading “Withering Heights II”

My Love and Hate Relationship with Portuguese

Placing this in context  My professor looked me squarely in the face and said, you speak French, yet that isn’t enough, really,  I think it’s time for a new language and I believe Portuguese would be a good fit for you. Among many emotions to choose from, I felt nothing. I agreed totally with him;Continue reading “My Love and Hate Relationship with Portuguese”

How My Story Intersects with Africa

I grew up with my grandmother who is such an entertaining old lady. She would not back down to an intimidating Christian song just because she did not know the lyrics. The solution was quite simple; either invent her own words or substitute words with sounds that she made . The problem though was thatContinue reading “How My Story Intersects with Africa”

Book Review – Homegoing, Yaa Gyasi

  Yaa Gyasi’s Homegoing assures me more than ever of the importance of storytelling! Outside being Fante and being more than able to relate to a lot of occurrences in the book including the refreshing use of Fante diction, I am happy that through this story a lot more people will be exposed to theContinue reading “Book Review – Homegoing, Yaa Gyasi”

Willie Lynch’s Letter on ‘How to Make a Slave’ and Personal Musings

A friend and I had an extensive conversation in which I literally forced him to agree that racism had a hand in the original plan of slavery. We had time on our hands, and we were high from shoving down what would later turn into poop. We were bursting with a raw desire to tossContinue reading “Willie Lynch’s Letter on ‘How to Make a Slave’ and Personal Musings”

Invictus, William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,       Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be       For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance       I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance       My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath andContinue reading “Invictus, William Ernest Henley”

Factory Girls

4am. I am beyond late. The idealistic part of me hated the job but the realistic part urged me and told me to go gather life experience and sauce for my writings. I’d read Emile Zola and how the repetitive imagery of darkness fills Germinal. A white horse trapped in the bowels of the mineContinue reading “Factory Girls”