From a living Single: Honesty

It’s been a while since I’ve written any poetry or anything even relatively close, but I was thinking about my last blog and these words came to mind. It has no real form or scheme and I really didn’t intend for it to be a poem, so if it fails to sound like one, that’s probably why. I really had no intention of sharing this but I figured, what the hell…
These are just a bunch of thoughts I scribbled together.

I have absolutely nothing to lose from being honest with you. I feel like a lot more of our problems wouldn’t occur if we were all like children: brutally honest. If we all said how we felt – not just for being rude and offensive, but simply because being truthful would make things so much clearer – we would escape many of the miscommunication issues we have.
My question is can you handle me at my unfiltered, unadulterated truth? Can you handle me bare, raw and honest?

If I told you I’m a Christian that doesn’t understand it all, doesn’t have it all together, and sometimes questions her faith, but is searching for answers and truth within herself, could you handle it?

If I told you all my insane ideologies – like how I believe we’re all one because we all come from the same source – The One – and therefore by hurting each other we ultimately hurt ourselves, could you handle it?
If I let you get a peek inside my mind at my thoughts on religion, sex, marriage, life, racism, feminism, politics, war, peace, Hope, eternity… could you handle it?

How about if you flipped the script and were open and honest with me? One hundred percent honest.
Would you be able to do that? Just lay it all on the table, no matter what “it” was? Would you be able to accept the challenge?

I believe that in honesty is where we find love. True openness and vulnerability is in honesty. Anyone can have sex, but not everyone is able to go completely naked before someone.

Could you?

If I asked you right now to strip away my covers with your words of truth, would you? If I asked you to wash me with soft kisses from your lips that draw only truth with every breath, would it be too much to ask? Or if I asked you to unlock my deepest parts and discover the secrets that lie behind the jewels stored, using your key of sincerity, could you?
If all this seems like too much to ask, then you’re simply not enough for me.

dating · Inspiration · Life · relationships · Uncategorized

From a Living single: #WasteHisTime2016

As I make this confusing, frustrating journey through my twenties, there are a few things I’d like to share with you, just so that you don’t:

(a) make the same mistakes I do and

(b) learn a thing or two about what a 23 year old in 2016 may experience.

So, buckle up, you’re in for a helluva ride! #FromALivingSingle


I’ve come to the realisation that people like to make life a lot more complicated than it really is. No, like seriously, I’m starting to wonder if we do it out of habit or spite. This time in particular I’m talking about the age old topic of romance.

Now, I know you think you’ve heard it all before and what I have to say may be nothing particularly new, but I want to take the time to remind people of simple things in relationships/dating that may make the entire process 50 times easier. Grab your pens and papers boys and girls, mama’s giving notes!

  1. Chivalry isn’t dead, but openness is. – I dare you to tell me I’m lying. Go on, I’ll wait…

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Today’s relationships lack openness, and so everyone just ends up in these no name, confusing situations where you’re wondering what you are, if you even are a “thing” or if the “thing” is headed anywhere at all.

If you’re perfectly fine with a “thing” being unnamed, unmoving and unclear, go right ahead, luv! #DoYouBoo.

Personally, I think a conversation needs to be had when a relationship/thing is still young, just so that he’s not planning a wedding while you’re just looking for the relief of an itch.

Don’t be afraid to DTR (define the relationship) just because it makes things “real”. Life IS real, so this ends up being pointless. 

2. Honesty really is the best policy – If i ask you “Bruh, you single?” Don’t tell me “Yes” when you know you’re holed up in your baby mama’s apartment with your 3 kids and a promise ring on her finger (Because let’s be real… these type of men don’t actually propose.) If you’re currently in a relationship, even if it’s just a “thing” BE CLEAR ABOUT IT. Ain’t nobody got time for #fckboys.

3. #DontWasteMyTime2016 – Does this even need explanation? I’m a firm believer in “everything happens of a reason” and taking every situation in life as a lesson or a stepping stone, and after being in a “thing” for over a year that didn’t work out (Not because of any misunderstandings, “things” tend to just not work out), I’m really not here for the time wasting.

And just because a girl says she doesn’t want to waste her time doesn’t mean she expects you to marry her, have her kids and live happily ever after. It simply means she wants to see if your relationship has the potential to be more than a “thing”.

4. Stop looking for an out before you’re even in – BIG ONE with our generation. We’re so caught up in the “what if it doesn’t work out?” and “What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” or “what if I look stupid because I caught ‘feels’?” that we miss the bigger picture. We miss all that something could be, because we’re so caught up in what may happen or who may think we’re insane.

News flash – Love IS insane! It’s selfless and patient and kind and all the things we’re naturally engineered to be, but trained not to be.  No wonder it’s so hard. Doesn’t mean it isn’t worth it.

5. Take the dive, it’s okay. – If by some miracle you do happen to escape the chains of “what if” and fall in love, don’t be afraid to just dive in and swim. If it works out, you won’t regret it. If it doesn’t, it may hurt for a little but you’d have learned what you needed to, in order to prepare you to fall in love again.  Take the chance, I promise you it’s worth it.

Moral of the story: Be straight with people. Say what you mean, mean what you say. Openness is next to happiness.


#QOTD: “What if I fall?”  “Oh, but my darling, what if you fly?” – Erin Hanson


It’s Not Mental Health Day but…

Let’s just be real… let’s just be honest.

(This paragraph has everything to do with the blog but nothing at all.) I’ve just finished watching last Thursday’s episode of Tamar & Vince. I watched how Tamar pushed herself completely. She felt sick but nothing could hold her back. Her illness turned out to be a lot worse than she thought it was and in the end she had to completely slow down. I’ve always said that Tamar is my spirit animal… I enjoy that.

Tonight as I watched her push above and beyond herself, I tried to pep talk myself into doing the same thing. The more I tried to curve my “inner voice” into cheering for myself, is the more tired and depressed I felt.

I’ve experienced depression before. What they don’t tell you is that one person can experience depression in different forms. Having gone through depression through majority of my teen years, I’m not sure if I can say which is worse. The past of not wanting to live and doing almost everything in my power to not be here, or wanting to live and be something and make something of myself but just not having the strength or the will to get off the couch.

There are people counting on me. I have teens that look up to me, in and outside of church. I have friends that rely on me to be there for them in their time of need. I have several jobs that need me to finish what I’ve started. I have several books and movies that are desperately waiting to be taken from the turmoil of my mind to the black and white of paper and ink.

But as I sit here with mixture of nicotine and menthol stinging the back of my tongue, I wonder what everyone would think of me if I just stopped. Not because I wanted to, but because I’d reached my end. My spirit wants to fight… I’m a warrior… that side of me can’t help but be who she is. But my body is currently playing “follow the leader” with my mind and right now my mind says stop.

My inner turmoil isn’t just the anxiety dancing around to the beat of the 10 million questions booming around in my head, it’s the inner battle between my warrior spirit and my wary mind. This dance has been going on for a long time, I just haven’t been moving to its beat. And now, it’s caught up with me. The exhaustion, the fatigue, the fight – it’s all caught up with me.

The questions have gotten louder and there is no way to answer them. The dance has gotten faster and there’s no way to slow it down. Each day I only grow older and each day I feel less purposeless… or less like I’m accomplishing my purpose (not really sure which one). What is my purpose, anyway? Why am I here? Why are we all here? What’s the point of it all? How many of us leave this earth without having these questions answered?

I’m not really sure where I’m going with this…

I needed to write… I want to write a work of fiction but it’s all happening too quickly in my head so I needed to write the truth. This is what happens behind the mask. This is what you don’t all see.


African Lives Don’t Matter?

It’s always interesting to see people’s response to tragedy. It’s always even more interesting to see the social media blow up when similar tragedy happens in different places of the world but don’t get what some are calling “equal recognition”. As one that makes a living from social media, I can truly say this is a space where many voice their opinions and the ignorant seem to be louder than the informed.

The tragedy in France has brought out the mourners, the attention seekers, the conspiracy theorists, the misinformed and the uninformed. With all of the ruckus that continues to surround this terrorist attack, we fail to zero in on the real issues at hand. I am here to highlight some of these issues (Those I feel comfortable disclosing, anyway).

  1. What happened in Paris isn’t any more or less sad than what’s happening across the world – “If this is true why does it seem as if the media coverage and outrage far more exceeds that of the coverage in Syria, Turkey, and Kenya?” This question leads to point number two…
  2. The media has been covering these attacks, you just haven’t been paying attention. – I listen to BBC World news almost daily and also follow their feed on Twitter for instant news alerts and I have been tracking these attacks for a little over two years now. The fact that your television or twitter feed is solely tuned into CNN – an AMERICAN news network – doesn’t mean the media is doing a bad job at coverage of what’s going on around the world. The fact of the matter is that the United States has interests in parts of Europe. Kenya, not so much.
  3. “White privilege wins again.” – Not true. In this case I am inclined to not jump to throw my race card in the air, but simply look at the facts. The truth is, many of us have closer ties to Paris than we do to Africa. A co-worker was on vacation in Paris and happened to be in the same theatre the Paris attacks happened. Luckily he left just short of an hour before the attacks took place. Some of us have travelled there ourselves or have friends and family in France on vacation or working on the Teaching Assistant Programme, so our antennas were all the way up when we heard about the attacks. Therefore, it was easier for us to be concerned about the happenings in France than in Kenya. Does this make us bad people? No, it makes us human. Does this mean we care less about what’s happening in Kenya? Not necessarily, we are just able to relate more to France.

My advice to everyone saying ‘African lives don’t matter’ – stay informed. African lives DO matter. The coverage is happening (Anyone remember #BringBackOurGirls? Let’s not be unfair…) just because you’re not keying in doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.

Be the change – the only way you can do this is to actually research what’s happening. Find out how you can bring more attention to the issues happening. How can your voice make a difference? Start the conversation.france kenya.jpg


Support your own! #WTSChallenge

You all remember the ALS challenge that was going around right? Fill a bucket with water and ice and have someone throw it on you to help raise awareness about the disease then tag a bunch of people to do the same and or donate? Kind of hard to forget when the entire world was doing it even though half the people didn’t know what it was about.

(Before we read on… Disclaimer: I am not undermining the importance of the ALS challenge or the seriousness of raising awareness but the point must be made. Do continue…)

I find it so interesting that all of Jamaica (students, teachers, ministers in government and other Jamaican celebrities) were all up, on and over the ALS challenge to raise awareness for a diseases that Annually, is responsible for two deaths per 100,000 people, yet our own “water tanks in schools” challenge that affects our Jamaican students, has been driving the damn struggle bus to raise $500,000 JMD (for those who don’t know this is not a lot of money).

Water tanks in school is an initiative that was started to raise money for our Jamaican primary and basic schools that are without water tanks during the drought that led to water restrictions and were forced to  close on a few occasions because there was no water. They challenged you to do 10 push-ups on camera and donate $500 JMD (thats a little over $4.00 USD) or do no push-ups and donate $1000 JMD (a little over $9.00 USD). This started over 9 weeks ago and they are yet to reach their goal.

My question is where are all the  Jamaicans that were so quick to join the ALS challenge and donate and raise awareness for a cause that is as likely to affect you or anyone you know as Clark Kent’s meteor falling out the sky and landing on your house? Why aren’t Jamaicans crawling all over this challenge (which, I may point out is far less painful than having a bucket filled with ice thrown on you) to help our OWN students? It makes me wonder if activism in Jamaica is all about the hype and not really about getting things done. Where are our ministers of education and Youth & Culture (who were so quick to upload an ALS video might I add – yes I’m throwing unapologetic shade) to encourage their colleagues into donating? It’s 5000 USD!! This shouldn’t have taken 9 damn weeks to raise! We are always so quick to support foreign but will never support our own. This ridiculousness needs to stop.

*calms down*

If you are interested in supporting this very important cause PLEASE make your deposit at NCB Ja Ltd Account # 371088881 (Swift code: JNCBJMKX) and post your video to watertanksinschools IG #WTSPushupChallenge.

Support others, but support you own first!


Out of the box – Leaving my comfort zone

I recently made the decision (by recently I mean just now) to post a book I’d written some time in high school online. Truthfully I’m not really looking for a “buss” (huge recognition in Jamaican creole) but I’ve really just grown tired of my 49,000+ words sitting on my laptop looking pretty … or whatever.

If I’m honest with myself it really isn’t awesome, but it was my very first attempt at novel writing and I think for a depressed, lonely sixteen year old who was searching for an outlet (I recently revised some parts but majority of it was written when I was in the 10th grade) I did pretty okay. That, along with the fact that it was my very first attempt is why I am comfortable posting this without being too hard on myself. I have grown not only as a writer (why am I not doing this in school again?) but as a person over the last 5+ years but it is nice to see where I am coming from.

[aside: quick Q&A]

1. Do you want to be a writer?  Ans: I am a writer, even though at the end of my final semester in university my Degree won’t say BA in Literature it really is a passion of mine. Now I’m into more script writing but writing is writing.

2. Do you think you’re great at it? Ans: I think I’m a pretty decent writer. Is there room for improvement? Heck yes! TUNS! But at the same time I don’t have to use terrible sex scenes to cover terrible writing… #SHADESnoshade …

3. Are you ready for the criticism you might get?  Ans: Any word you can think a female has been called I’ve probably been called it or worse… I’m Jamaican so I have a VERY thick skin and I know people will always want to tell you their opinions – mean or not. I’m ready for anything (I think).

[end of Q&A]

I’ll post a snippet of it here jut because… why not? And then you can hop on over to wattpad if you want to see how much worse it gets.


March 2, 1996

“You’re up Tajahnѐ!”  Taj tied back her dark curly hair as she prepared for the track in front of her. She bounced on the balls of her feet and took off at lightening speed to the obstacle course before her. As the first concrete flying saucer came towards her she reached for the gun in her back and shot it down.

She tried to ignore her unusually upbeat sister behind her cheering her on as if it was a contest instead of a serious warrior training session. Concentrating on the track ahead she leaped over walls and dodged every other obstacle flying at her that she couldn’t shoot, all while keeping her speed between fifty and fifty-five km/h.

Tajahnѐ glanced at her trainer, Susan Sector, standing on a pedestal overlooking the training field as she barked orders and insults at her.

“Push it lady! My great grandmother in her grave could whip your butt!”

Sector’s hands danced in front of her as if she was directing a symphony as she manipulated the elements to add more obstacles to the course. As top warrior and current leader of the Warrior Clan, manipulating the elements was a piece of cake for her. She stood high off the ground and waved her hands around to create dust tornadoes and sent dozens of concrete saucers flying towards Tajahnѐ.

Taj cursed as she saw what Sector was doing and pushed all the harder to shoot down the saucers before they went slamming into her face. She smiled slightly as she saw the checkered flag signalling the finish line. She raced towards it, falling, rolling and sliding away from more targets as they came with full force towards her. She had almost reached the flag when out of nowhere came a piece of a tree trunk. It hit her right in the stomach and she skidded and smashed into the concrete wall she’d left behind.

She could almost see the smirk printed on Sector’s face through the stars swimming around her head.

“Always be prepared for the unexpected!” Sector shouted.

Taj growled at her, not caring if she would be punished for it afterward and walked back to where her sister and other training mates waited.

“I hate that woman.” She said as soon as she reached her.

“Taj, don’t say that out loud.” Xenna hushed.

“What? I do. And I know you hate her just as much as I do.” Taj countered.

“Well I’m just trying not to get us in trouble. You know we could get in so much trouble just for saying something like that about somebody in authority.”
“Yeah, I know. I miss Mr. Fillion.” Taj said, referring to her old trainer.

“Me too Taj, but he shouldn’t have done what he did or he’d still be alive.” Xenna touched her sister’s arm to try and comfort her.

“Done what Xenna? Stood up for what he believed in? Zefron has all these rules and we just follow them blindly, never asking why. ‘Do not disrespect a superior clan or clan member or you’ll be punished.’ ‘Do not cohabit with members outside your clan or you’ll be killed.’ Blah blah blah. ”

“Shh Taj. Let it go, there’s nothing we can do about it now.” Xenna rubbed her hand up her sister’s arm, secretly praying no one overheard their conversation.

“I want to go to the shooting range and pretend Sector’s a target. You coming?” Taj said after a moment.

“I have school work to do.”

“Xenna it’s Saturday. You can do your school work later, come on.”

Tajahnѐ positioned herself for shooting stance with the 9mm aimed at the target before her. The gun was loaded with silver bullets that were set to explode once they heated up to body temperature. She aimed and fired until the clip was empty, all the while envisioning Sector’s head exploding in front of her.

“Why do you insist on using specialized bullets for fake targets?” Xenna questioned as she took a shot at her target with her rifle.

“Because it’s fun and we aren’t running short on specialized bullets. Besides these make the guns heavier, it’s good to practice with it sometimes. Get a good feel of the weapon in case you have to use it.”  Taj turned a slug between her fingertips as she watched her sister fire five shots and hit right on target.

“Nice, you’re getting better at this. Have you been practicing without me?”

Xenna only smiled.

She sensed him even before she saw him. His aura was one which brought a sense of power, strength and fear, but also one of great love.

He came from behind and brushed his lips on her cheeks. Taj couldn’t stop the smile from spreading even if she wanted to.

“You’re a brave man, sneaking up on me like that when I’m holding a loaded gun.”

“Unless I did something to upset you within the last twenty four hours I figured I should be okay. Hello love.”

“Hi Steven,” Xenna wiggled her brows at her sister and her main squeeze.

Taj watched as Steven disarmed her sister of her rifle with one swift motion and emptied the clip in the dummy in the target lounge. His muscles flexed beneath his smooth chocolate skin, and the Epsill tattoo on his upper arm vibrated with each release of the trigger.

Steven was a part of a special group of Warriors known as Epsills. They were top grade Warriors and were referred to as the “Special Ops” group of the Warrior Clan. They were the Royalties’ closest security and were sworn to protect and serve their planet at all costs. Epsills held the keys to many secrets of Zefron and were responsible for guarding such secrets.

“Aren’t you on guard at the Palace today? What are you doing here?” Taj asked him, trying not to sound impressed at his movements.

“My shift doesn’t start for another two hours. Figured I’d come look for my favourite girl and her partially neurotic sister.”

“Hey, watch it about my sister now.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Xenna is the favourite girl I was talking about.” Steven flashed a wicked grin as Taj gently punched him in the arm.

“What are you girls doing back here by yourselves anyway?” Steven asked, handing the rifle back to Xenna.

“Your girl here said she needed to blow off some steam and decided to drag me here with her.” Xenna answered, eyeing her sister.

Steven giggled, “Sector again?”

“The one and only,” Xenna answered.

“You can’t stand her either.” Taj countered.

“True, but I’m not stupid enough to admit it out loud. Have to be careful these days Taj, it’s not like when we were kids.”

“No, not like when.”

Taj flashed back to when they were about 8 years old and Xenna was about 4 and how different Zefron was. She remembered when everyone lived in harmony with each other.

The Zefron Hierarchy was more of a thing of knowledge rather than actual formality.

It was common knowledge that Clans were formed based on the powers they were born with. The Royal families were most reverenced and protected families in all of Zefron, and possessed four of the five gifts of Zefron. Speed, extensive strength, levitation and channelling or manipulation of the natural elements.

Second to Royalty were the Priest and Priestesses and Emperor Clans. They all possessed the same gifts – speed, space travel, levitation and element manipulation – but their duties were different. The Emperor Clan were responsible for making the rules for Zefron and presenting them to the King and Queen, while the Priest and Priestesses were the enforcers of those rules.

Next was the Warrior Clan. They possessed the gifts of speed, strength and space travel. The warrior clan was the only clan that placed members in levels based on how developed their gifts were. Top grade warriors were the only Warriors who possessed the gift of element manipulation and usually ended up being trained as Epsills.

Lastly was the Peasant Clan. Members of the Peasant Clan usually possessed no gifts and if they did it was usually the gift of great strength or speed. They were the regular every day citizens of Zefron who’s jobs were to ensure the everyday routines of Zefron running smoothly, and to serve all the other clans. They kept the balance between clans and were a constant reminder that all powers were gifts and should be cherished and used wisely.

All the Clans were almost completely in sync with each other despite their separate gifts and strengths. The Royal children and children of the High Priests and Priestesses would play with the children of Warriors and Peasants. There was no discrimination among clans and even the members of the Peasant Clans had a noticeable place in Zefron.

All that changed when the uprising happened. Clans fought against each other for more power and status. Clans wanted a change in the structure and order of Zefron. Nobody really knows how the uprising really began or who initiated it, but every finger was pointed at the Peasant Clan as they were the majority part takers. Now every clan pretty much kept to themselves. Peasants were further downgraded and the Priests stripped them of the little powers they possessed. These days if a peasant was born with powers, they keep it to themselves for fear of their lives or it being taken away.

Taj snapped back to the present with Steven’s hand waving in front of her face.

“Where’d you go just now?” He laughed to hide his concern.

“Just thinking. It’s getting late Xenna, we should probably head home.”

“I’ll walk you ladies home then head to the palace.” Steven offered.

“Actually you two go ahead, there’s something I need to do first.” Xenna countered.

Taj raised a suspicious brow at her sister.

“You’ve been doing a lot of that lately now that I think about it. Where’re you running off to- ouch!” Taj gave Steven a look that could burn holes into his eyes as he poked her in the ribs.

“Have fun Xenna, and be careful whatever it is you’re doing.” Steven put in.

“I need to know where she’s been running off to these days.” Taj watched Xenna through the glass in the door as she sped off down the street.

“No, you don’t.” Steven steered Taj from the building and led her down the opposite direction. “Stop worrying; she’s just being a regular eighteen year old.”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about. Do you remember what I was like at eighteen? Do you remember what we were doing at eighteen?”

Steven thought about it for a second. “Okay maybe you should be a little worried.”

He grabbed her hand as he felt her trying to steer away to follow her sister.

“Taj,” he warned.

“Okay, okay, but if she does something stupid I’m blaming you.”

continue reading here : http://www.wattpad.com/79962125-twisted-reuinion-chapter-one?d=ud