Wordsmith.

Abstract.

The sleepy snow has been falling asleep a touch too soon.
I took a step from inside out and was accosted by the cold.

Fanatical shit.

So like anywhoos. DOOM.

I’ve been relaxing these past couple days and nights, trying to collect my thoughts. My mind is very vigorous, too much for its own good. I’m always thinking about something.

Exams. Those things. Those sly things. Haunting. Lurking. Slithering. Lingering. Two more weeks until they emerge, make their way towards me. No diggity, I’m not stressing. I’m way too cool for that.

I need Q-tip’s album. Enough said. I don’t buy albums much, but this is one that I actually…want. I’ve heard some songs here and there and I was blown away into out-her-space. As soon as I heard “We Fight/Love” and “Believe”…my mind was massaged and my ears were caressed. I know what I want for Christmas.

I played ball in the RAC for the first time in eight million centuries. I was on a high as soon as I walked in the gym. “I feel so good” was all I kept whispering to myself. Just holding the orange ball, gripping it hard with soft hands, centering my eyes on the tricky rim and releasing RAC ball #6 into the seemingly sheer air felt like a dream. Women hardly enter the gym for sports like basketball, and so when I was in there, the guys were overwhelmed with emotions, ha-ha. I had a smug look on my face: “And what motherfuckers, I play basketball and I for damn sure am not leaving right now. Deal with it.”

Life is great.

Here's a little freewrite I just did that probably doesn’t make a damn bit of sense but that's just how I do.
What this means? I don’t know.

Wordsmith.
I’ve got a rising love jones for words. I love how they slither across my lips as I say them, roll off my pens and pencils when I write them. Express. The way they crash and clash, collapse in front of my eyes; enthuses me. The way they love and become one; intrigues my soul. Sometimes I can’t take it. The sound makes my mind quiver. Shake. Vibrate. Lose control. I don’t know what it is. I can’t tell you. It’s a secret to be discovered, by me and you. The uncanny shapes, coils and curls fill me with sensations, penetration of pleasure. They fill my crux, they fill my page, my letters of pleases and thank-yous. Words are extraordinary. They fill me, my lost person, shielding me from the heavy rain. Words are at my selection waiting for detection as I long for their fond affection. Words – they are me to you.

Later Days. *waves*

Journey.

And the winner is… Barack Obama. Believe me when I say I don’t follow politics. At all. Whatsoever. I just don’t. I can’t say I understand politics either. But the fact that my own brown eyes witnessed a man of colour speaking to millions of people with dignity and grace; the fact that my own brown eyes witnessed a man of colour trying to promote change and trust, the importance of family; the fact that my own brown eyes witnessed a man of colour who is not your stereotypical depiction of an African-American said something to me. It inspired me not to be the best I can be, because I was raised with that mind-set – but it inspired me to be more. It inspired me to do more. It showed me that I can provoke change among people if I believe. I must say, I got a bit teary-eyed watching the amazing history. Still do.

Enough tears for one moment.

I was conversing with my father as I do everyday. He was telling me how he became a traveler world-wide when he was eighteen. Starting in his homeland of Ghana, he travelled to Sierra Leone, Senegal, Morocco, and so many other places I was in such awe of that I don’t even remember them. I was just sitting back and observing him, talking about his adventures and connections and just…everything. He had told me before that he went everywhere before going to Canada, but I never knew it was this much. Back in the day when things were cheap, he bought plane tickets to Italy and from there took the train to so many other places – Paris, Poland, Belgium, Germany…

He lived off of a few bucks and cheap food, but it was the culture that he embraced so well. He lived in Italy for three years, spent summers in Europe, ate food he never knew of, met people he would’ve never found in Canada or USA. He even snuck across a border in the night with his friends…don’t remember which one. Shit, he made me want to do that one day.

I told him that I always wanted to travel, and I probably developed this love for learning and loving culture from him. He told me these days it’s way too expensive to do what he did, but I could still do some of it…after second year of course. I almost yelled when he said that. He told me planning is the most important thing, as well as being aware of your environment. And being a woman and all, that’s something that was emphasized. He said it twice.

I want to travel the world. Always have. I have this endless love for learning and experience. Being where I am can make you a little closed minded and narrow, but the possibility of getting away opens new doors and unlocks the curiosity in my mind. I'm too excited already as I type this so I'm just gonna stop. Yeah. I'm saving on up right now.

Serenity.

Glimmer of the sidewalk
Brilliant city lights capturing my mind's eye
Whistling air in the shadows of night
Leaves me, a painted scene
A cloudless sky, a love with me
Wander through the unseen
Secrets with two keys
A marvel of the mind
A Serene Dream

Ramblings

You know, words and things.

These past few weeks have passed me by so quickly. I’ve got a lofty stack of work to finish up before I can truly relax. I can’t say I’m stressing too much though. I work pretty well under pressure. I haven’t seen my eyelids fall peacefully in a while, but it’s all good.
September to now has been all about me wondering and wandering, trying to find myself in this colossal place called university. I’m still the cool kid that brings lunch to school everyday and listens to music non-stop. But this life, this complex life hasn’t really…stuck with me yet. I’m still not used to it. I don’t even remember my whole schedule. I forget sometimes. I don’t know a lot of people. I’m a raindrop in the puddle. It’s weird. I hardly have any guy friends. VERY weird. I haven’t played a sport yet…now that is some fucked up shit on my part. It’ll change though, I promise. I’m even allowed to leave whenever to wherever for whatever. Yeah, I’ve been on a Maxwell high for like four weeks now. Love that guy.

If you ask me how the life is…high school + heavier workload + more freedom = university life.

Basically. The only skill I’ve learned here thus far is that it’s up to me to figure out what’s important, not to take everything I’m taught and write it down in my mind and on paper. That’s an expertise I won’t let go of. It bugs me how the opposite was the case in high school. What bullshit. But I guess you live and you learn. As they say, things will get better.

I believe, like Q-tip && D.