Why do you have a blog?
I started my blog 5 years ago and before that, I had a previous blog on blogger which we would never speak of again please and thank you. When I began writing on this beautiful blog of mine, I never imagined people would find me lol it was for my eyes alone if I’m being honest. I wanted a place to dump my midnight rhymes, stories and wild imaginations. I kept losing the random pieces of papers where I would write my amazing pieces and end up getting frustrated so a blog seemed like the wise thing to do secretly but you guys found me wow.
Are you okay?
Of course you can imagine the questions that poured in once my blog began to grow. “Are you okay?” “Who did this to you?” “You know you can just talk to me about this?”. Sometimes I would publish posts and receive a flood of messages from my friends and strangers expressing their concern. Somebody cannot even write fiction again.
For those still wondering…yes, I am okay. No, this is not my life. I wish my love life was as existent and eventful as it is on here. Okay that was a lie which I should really just have deleted that previous statement but, yolo. Sometimes ‘you’ is someone my friend has told me about. Other times, ‘you’ is an imaginary boyfriend I dreamt about. For the most part, ‘you’ is Michael Ealy from For Coloured Girls or a random actor in yet another depressing romantic movie. This is not my reality ladies and gentlemen, my heart cannot even accommodate all these love relationships.
Is your poetry personal?
I have a wild imagination and I don’t particularly appreciate people asking if I write about the men in my life because first of all, no. But also, I don’t know you like that to open up if I really was. On the rare occasion, I integrate elements of my reality into my poetry for example in ‘Issa Sonnet’, he really didn’t call me beautiful first, he called me interesting but then I let my creativity finish the rest of that piece. In ‘I Need You’, I did share chocolate flavoured liquor with an erudite young man but no, I don’t need anyone and I am not suicidal. In ‘Tough Love‘, I really did learn to love differently and I won’t cry when you cry but there was no ‘you’ and even if there was, nobody is bending over to act as anybody’s footstool when bench has not finished in the market.
Can you write more honest pieces?
Yes I can. The real question here is would I? Once again yes, I would write some and consider posting them. The thing about writing honest pieces is it involves telling personal stories and that’s not really my thing. I like to leave things exactly where they are especially if they’re bad experiences. Recently I’ve been asking myself if this was because I have made it my responsibility to protect certain people’s reputation. People who have no problem trashing my reputation to whoever is interested in listening. So I’m actually going to write a few things and then debate posting them later on in life. I’d also hate to shut up about my miserable experiences when I know full well other people can either learn from my bad decisions or feel empowered by my strength to keep pushing. I aim to inspire.
Can you write more stories?
I try to. I honestly do but it takes a new set of skills to write good stories. I wrote The Cancer Germ in he summer of 2015 only managed to make it sound good on 2017.
Have you thought of writing a book?
Yes lovies, I had started one in September. It was going to be a book of short poems focussed on the different phases I went through following my breakup. Each poem described a different emotion I felt like anger, regret, lust, even reluctance to accept the new love of my life but guess what? My phone died on me and so did all of my poems and my motivation to write a book. RIP to my author title. It’s not for everyone.
My face is currently beaming with ecstatic happiness knowing that we finally had this conversation 💜
P.s I’m currently listening to Claim by dvsn and I have just screamed out ‘Surprised you still talking to the same dude’ so, you would be right to expect a post on how everyone in my life (including myself) was surprised at the fact I was still stuck in the same place for timeeee
2 Replies to “You Asked And Now, I’m Replying.”
Of course. Pieces of us drip through our poetry.
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Happens subconsciously as well