Tag: writing

A conversation between my brain and my heart. Blackish Blackish? Yes. Why Blackish? I dunno. Maybe because all my jokes come from there.  Most of

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It is morning. I am walking down the corridor with Jerry and Stephen. Stephen is holding my right hand. He has been holding me like this for days. The walls are white: white and eerie. Scary, even. It is as though there are black demons behind these walls and as we approach our destination, they will compress the walls and choke life out of us. Stephen catches my eyes and I manage a weak smile: I have forgotten what it means to be happy

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“Writing is Telepathy.” – Stephen King. ONE. This is how you will know you like books. On a cold Thursday morning, when the birds are

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First thing: Thank you Enwongo Cleopas and Oladejo Oluwatosin. You both are forever in my heart. Last week Wednesday, before I started that joke about

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​ Home is the colour of life, of nature. When you think of nature, you think of green things; green pastures, green leaves and blossoming

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​ Today, my worst fear came to life.  Wait. Do you have fears? Are you like me? Is there anything you are very much afraid

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