Freedom traced the edge of the pavements in stilettos, aiming hopelessly to keep her balance as proof to Rodger who waddled along behind her, that she really didn’t have too much to drink.
The light hearted laughter soon faded into silence approaching Freedom’s apartment.
“I was wondering Rodger, why did you stay with Samantha?” asked Freedom abruptly, as a way to fill in the silence that became associated with the two since they were little.
Rodger turned around to face her so that they were exactly parallel.
“Well she was just there. You never said anything; so I always guessed.. Well you just never felt the same way about me.”
“Do you love her…. now? Even more than me?” Asked Freedom gazing past Rodger out of fear.
Tucking his hands into his pockets and looking at his feet like a bashful child, nodding vigorously.
Freedom met with his eyes and worked up a gentle smile nodding in response.
“That’s good. I’m glad.”
Freedom walked up the stairs to the front door with keys clenched in hands and a hope that as soon as she got past the door, her heart would finally settle somewhere even if it was in the dull open space of a polished tiled floor.
Turning back around with a slight quiver to her lip she opened her mouth intending to quietly get his attention but ended up opening her mouth a bit too wide, saying Rodger a bit too loud as though her best kept secret was just released into the streets; becoming known to every household along the street that night.
Rodger’s head turns back towards her.
Drawing back and stumbling on her words; Freedom gets round to composing herself.
“Good night, Rodger.”
“Good night, Freedom.”
Naked I lay here in bitterness and self-pity
Remembering all the bad men who called me pretty
And didn’t mean it
The thoughts we think is a very unintentional project that I seemed to have started. It all started after the ‘I, too, Am Harvard’ project. Get your secret thoughts onto a white board was the idea. A day later a friend of mine put up a personal post about what he think others think about him. I could relate so much to the post that I had to write it down, I asked for his permission and kept it anonymous; but I didn’t want it to just be another thought, there needed to be a reply. Someone to be a voice of reason.
I am one to keep all my thoughts to myself and my mind eventually turns into a hotpot, good and bad thoughts alike boiling over. So I grabbed my pen again a second time but to voice out some fears, voice out the worries and disappointments and add another thought to the mix and that was God’s . What does he think about the things I am thinking? He probably has something to say and I opened up my Bible and grabbed my camera.
I don’t know sometimes I read God’s replies and they may seem dismissive or too focused on him; but I just wanted to clear up that his thoughts about everything matter so much and he always has something to say about everything; he genuinely cares. We were created by him and for him and he knows that we won’t really have joy until we get our eyes off ourselves and onto him, otherwise we just sink straight into worry and fear.
I don’t know if I started this to encourage others just as a way to say ‘you aren’t alone’ or just finally let go of some thoughts and bring up others for discussion because they are well overcooked and have made me and a good chance others, tired over time.
So many things that I don’t understand
Like why am I so lost if I have a Captain?
I’m tossed back and forth by deceitful whims
and if it all falls look within
I’ve been breaking my own heart
way too long
I did this from the start
Now I’m all alone
So focus on the heart if you want a home
I can’t settle for that cardboard box no more
I’m caught up in this game again
He’s acting like we’re more than friends
Why is this happening?
I don’t know if he the one
but I don’t want to lose his love.
And all the girls said
All I really know is that I don’t wanna be hurt
Today was a God day
A day where I hoped a little bit more than what I had grown accustomed to
A day where I wasn’t as afraid as I thought I would be
A day where I listened to Muslims and Catholics
And shared what God has done for me
A day I got a bit more better at painting digitally
A day I counted how many more years I have to go until I’d be ‘epic’
This sort of day is rare
But I should expect them more often
Even when it rains
A very quick post on what I got up to in the weekend, it is rare that I take so much photos and what better place to show it than on here. On friday I headed back down to London but before then I attended this graduate panel where former Bucks New Uni students came back to share their experiences working in film and animation. They gave a lot of helpful advice and there were free cakes and yes that pretty much sums up my friday. Then came Saturday and I celebrated with friends Bimpe’s 21st Birthday. The birthday girl looked gorgeous of course and in “black timing” tradition no one was on time and the official hashtag for the night was #YBey. We had dinner at a very beautiful restaurant near blackfriars called The Fable which had book quotes printed all over the mirrors in the toilets and book shelves and pages upstairs on the walls, for a story-teller like me it has ‘future home potential’. The food was really nice to for the price we paid, I ended up having a crab and crayfish linguine and for desert knickerbocker glory with the toughest honeycomb I’ve ever had to chow down to.
I am outcast
Sadness has shortened my days
And my eyes well up with tears everytime I awake to the reminder of shortcomings in my life
Like never being able to get past a 2:2, or having a boyfriend and the probability of never having a fruitful job
And a relationship with God that in my mind is breaking apart
‘Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life.’ Proverbs 13:12
I wanted to be extra sensitive on this topic, as what I will be talking can be a touchy for some if the context I will be putting it in isn’t understood. So I am making it clear that my use of miscarriage and the unfortunate circumstance of not being able to have children as an example of a longing and desire being unfulfilled. Miscarrying hope is such a moment of deep brokenness. There are a swirl of emotions that rush in but the one that stays seated above them all is anger. Anger at the circumstances, anger at the lack of control over them and anger at God for not changing things or making them better.
The feeling of being so close to giving birth to something and it dying before it could even transpire, and then the months and years after are replayed like a scratched record over and over again with the same result of never finishing but every time it is played it only becomes more damaged, 8 months turn to 5 and the 5 to 3 and the 3 to 2 and all of a sudden….nothing is happening anymore.
On Tuesday 11th February, I had a little day trip with Simisola and Tayo to… you guessed it France! and
Oh My Heart