Empress

'I swear one day Imale I will lock you in a room and we will fight' my mum screamed angrily at teenage me.

See my mum and I then were chalk and cheese, water and oil, flammable substance and a spark, safe to say we did not get on. My father's cool demeanor vanishing when he had to play peace maker. I would push my mum to the edge, not on purpose I just seemed to really get on her nerves and I played on that. For years this continuted and my mother and I grew further and further apart, I never understood her nor her me. But I was cool, my dad loved me, enough for both of them and that was good enough for me.

My dad would always tell me my mum was my only friend, I would snort and roll my eyes at this statement. How was he gonna say this woman is my friend? I was offended, friends dont spend 95% of the time fighting. The other 5% was for sleeping, eating, work, school.

Then our world crumbled, when out the blue, my father dyeed - this is great four lions reference btw - then it was just my mother and her kids, she had lost her best friend, we had lost our father. And yet the distance kept widening.

Then I got into situations I can now identify as ridiculously toxic, but its calm innit I can now admit I was looking for some sort of love. Deep.
At the breakdown of that shitstorm I decided I would come out to my mother, hell she was the only person, I felt who didn't know me. I spent days and weeks mentally going back and forth about telling her, but I felt like a fraud and stifled by my facade.

Then a lot of my black gays know this part LOL. I ain't trying to relieve that.

At this point I became comfortable with the idea of being alone, emotionally. I consumed with the desire to be loved relegated the need for my mother's love to the part where all that is disdained inhabits. I greedily gorged on the desire shown to me with little regard to where it came from, it was never about them.

Laziness killed the wanton beast within me, in time for me to move out of my mother's house.

Turns out this is the change we needed. At this point I started to see my mother not as my mother but as a woman, who had kids.

We started to smile more, together.

And as my birthday nears, I see my mother not as a woman but as a fucking hero bro. The love that my mother continues to bestow upon me has been the most radical thing.

Her love feels like the sun on your face on the first day of summer heat after months of winter. Her love feels like nshima after hunger, like finally getting hot water after weeks of kettle boiled bucket bathes, like the £30 contactless limit. Ethereal.

As hard as the last couple of years have been, she has been relentless and has raised 3 fucking awesome well adjusted independent children.

I realise now that all that time that we weren't chalk and cheese, but rather two peas in a pond. Albeit different boats.

Guys hug your mum man.

P.s - Imagine being loved like this. This is God level love. I am gonna go make my mummy a brew.
Lol jokes I am cosy in bed.

Open Office Fishbowl

The day usually starts with a loud blaring alarm.  

Then my heart drops in a drop akin to how your heart feels just before the first drop on the big rollercoasters. Only that this time there is no jovial under or over layer, a large dark void fills the space that excitement once filled.

I reluctantly get up and out of bed, hoping some debilitating illness befalls me before I reach the bathroom. I giggle at the ridiculousness of praying that a stray shower spray goes up my nose and drowns me. I mean we all know a drop of water can kill you.  

This is suicide ideation I will not deny it, nor downplay it. But these feelings hit me at very specific times. Every morning before work. Showers wash this away and give way to nothingness.

The drive to work usually soundtracked by loud blaring music.  

It doesn’t matter what I listen to, it replaces any thoughts or feelings that might have instead occupied my mind.  

I get to work.  

I sit in the car park to the very last minute. I gasp as I leave my car, it feels like I have entered a fishbowl, its filled just below the point of where I can breath freely, when the fishbowl tips in a particular manner I can breathe. But for the most part I am constantly trying not to drown, my nose filled with the stench of humid dank chemical water. 

15:59.

Relief and a little disappointment that I have to do this again tomorrow.

Return of the Mack

Mate.

So I am back.  This time with a vengeance ngl I have heard this before somewhere, maybe in a movie or a diary entry, I dunno my point is my point.

Anyway this time, unlike the other times my motivation is consistency, because now man goes to the gym regularly, enough to not have to be specific, and runs 5km park runs, so why can't she be consistent on a blog right?

You nodded in agreement and I appreciate the belief.

And with this ladies, gentlemen, those that are non-binary, I say stay tuned to this show.

I also want to thank the great cousin Mwambz for igniting the flame, for encouraging me to dust off the soapbox and to clear my throat and to pretend my musings will be coherent and easy to follow each time.

Also I kinda had a mental breakdown and was encouraged to write as a way to express and explore my situation. That is also a motivator I guess.

P.S - This time I will try to be purposeful with my edits, but I am not promising anything. Because proofreading is for proofs.

Peeaacceeeee.

Ultracrepidarian

As far as unsolicited messages go this one probably made you roll your eyes when you saw it was. As it goes I don't blame you fully for that reaction. Just a little bit. If I am honest.

There is so much I could say and probably should but I think it dilutes the impulsivity and genuineness of this.

The simplicity and easiness the smiles and the uncontrollable giggles the mid day thinking about you and the late night inside jokes spread across YouTube videos.

I miss you. It's probably because of a myriad of reasons. But because of those reasons you won't know about this. Instead you will know the unanswered calls the abrupt texts and the loud silences.

Why do people smile when no one's smiling?

The first time their eyes met, a tingle went down his spine, he only felt this when he really felt a song; this intrigued him and he smiled at her. She had butterflies; for the first time she was speech and thoughtless, lost in a present moment. They both felt a spark and he approached her.

The first time they kissed everything stood still, they were the only people in the room, in the world, on earth. The first time they made love proverbial fireworks exploded, it was as though a firework factory had gone up in flames. It was beautifully chaotic, destructive and loud. Nothing but them made sense in that moment as they simultaneously climaxed into each other. This was the last first time for both of them, their lives were just going to begin forever.

If you have consumed any amount of media you have encountered this story and numerous variations of it, you have gushed over it and secretly hoped it will work out like this for you eventually. If you have watched any Disney films, listened to 90s RnB, you not only feel like you are entitled to these moments and that you know them like you know the back of your hand. And for a lot of people this is exactly how their idea of love plays out in their minds and maybe even in reality, but unbeknownst to them the cues they have for love have been heavily influenced and shaped by the media. So before you think that the media has played no part of it, its only very recently people used to get married based on their parent’s coupling it was all on purpose for a purpose. In fact some cultures have kept this but because of globalisation, romanticism is flourishing everywhere and people who still practice arranged marriages are regarded as quite peculiar.

Romanticism as an ideology has a lot of flaws, like most things but we do an excellent job at overlooking the shortcomings that are presented, for no other reason than reason does not exist in a romantic setting. Things just happen for the sake of happening, because LOVE.
 We spend an awful lot of time searching for The One™ the one who is our soulmate, one crafted with us in mind. The One™ whose soul and our soul will effortlessly find each other and converge seamlessly; they will get us and accept us flaws and all and us them, those mind warping moments of loneliness will simply melt away once our souls become one.

Why do people smile when no one's smiling?

Its cause their thinking of someone they're loving

Keep on believing we are meant to be and

Nothing's stopping you and me from going to heaven

Sweetest love 

Even the music doesn't exempt us from the influence of romanticism. From the moment you know that your partner or a stranger is The One™ they tell you its easy sailing because the assumption is that the other person feels the same as you do. Music is the universal language so when the instrumental gives you tingles, then Alicia Keys is singing in your ears about love, you start to listen to the music with an anticipatory, almost celebratory ear for when you find the love that she is singing about. Then we start to look for the person who will give us that same feeling as the music, we even expect to feel that feel on sight, without having spoke to that person we just want to look up see the first person get the tingles and BAM thats The One™. We are to trust our instincts with matters of the heart, they would never let us down because well instinct, and this experience is supposedly intrinsic to the human condition.
 

Then the sex, toe curling, neighbours knocking, bed breaking, profanity screaming, eyes rolling back, you get the idea. Sex with The One™ is life changing, it affirms everything about life as spoken by the elders of your religion. The sex you have with The One™ would never disappoint because both of you want nothing but the other’s pleasure, they wouldn't be disgusted by your weird kinky desires because sexually you are both compatible,in your kinks. When yo find The One™ infidelity would not happen, because of mutual respect and open communication.
The realities of sex with The One™ or anyone for that matter is that our fear of being shamed by our sexual partners for our sexual desire means that instead of being true to our sexual selves we lie and conceal to appear appealing to our partners not knowing that they too are lying and concealing their desires for the fear of disgust and rejection from you. If sexual communication among couples was encouraged you would find out that both you and The One™ were both into Kinbaku but because you don't communicate you will never know for sure. 

All this sounds all well and negative but theory doesn't always translate well in reality, but sometimes its so beautifully done that you have to take a breath and savour every moment. In my line of work I have been fortunate enough to meet all sorts of people and have listened to all sorts of love stories. I met 'Raj', he was a man in his mid 30s he didn't believe in marriage and or love after the breakdown of a relationship years back. His friends and family would always pester him to get settle down and he would always rubbish them, then his friend introduced him to his sister in law, Raj and the girl eventually fell in love in and Raj couldn't see himself without her in his life. Only that they had only talked for a week, she lived in India and he lived in Hampshire, they barely spoke the same language and well he had never met her, but the way he spoke so highly of her and how she had changed his perceptive on things other than just love. Then on the flip of that I met couples who met in their teenage years and have grown together for years, they bicker and fight but they have foundations that run deeper than just love.

This whole thing of aspiring to one model of love is detrimental to the survival of love, we live in a time when even the ideology of romanticism has been bastardised. People are praised for having side chicks and for lying and cheating and spreading venereal diseases to their unsuspecting partners. If dialogue was opened up about relationships, expectations while in relationships less people would be in situations where they despise the whole idea of love and become hard shelled individuals afraid of having real connections and conversations with others. 

Monogamy isn't for everyone and neither is polygamy, however the best thing is communication and being honest not just with yourself but also your partners.What will work for you may not work for someone else, so when you settle in a relationship you have to do it for the right reasons.

-Mal
'5K to Couch'

P.s When you are rebelling against the establishment, when you envision The One™ and they are this hero type of dude capable of saving you from all your woes, when you are walking in nature and you think that its the most romantic thing, when you look at the sunset and think wow wow wow love, when you get mad that your matey forgot valentine's day or steak and blow job day, just remember none of that was an individual or original reaction or thought. All the media and society you have consumed has ensured that thats how you will feel and think about things of the heart. 

P.s.s When you like someone next take a step back and see why you like them. What you might find will interest you. 

Periods Emotions & Poops

A couple of days ago I was on my period. The pain and flow was so bad that at one point 

I thought my body was rejecting my uterus and extracting it through my vaginal walls. 

I was prepared to just die from the pain and brutal force of the ever wonderful crimson wave.

Horrid!

If none of that was bad enough, from the depth of hell it left in its path tea tree oil

resilient spots, a bloatedness that had its roots in a dark corner in a part of hell 

even demons are scared of. Even that is NOTHING compared to my personally gift wrapped 

present from you guessed it, hell. 

For people who have had the privilege to know me, they will tell you just how much of a badass

I am.

I'm no instagram baddie but I am bad fam, insta baddies wish they were me. 

However this period brought with it a distortion of my awesomeness. I know I was crafted 

by God himself. For the first time I felt like the devil beat my face and body with the 

ugly stick himself. My self esteem was at an all time low. Now I know that the source of 

this dissatisfaction with my reflection was a result of the great red flood, but for some reason 

just like Taylor Swift I just couldn't shake it off. Now I am not writing this as a way to feel

sorry for myself, ain't nobody got time to be doing that.

I am writing this because it occurred to me that some girls feel like this on a daily 

basis. Some girls can't shake this or become indifferent to it. it made me think of

the people I have encountered with numerous stories of their young teenage daughters,

sisters, cousins who have become so consumed with their quest for body perfection that

they skip meals and instead opt for a glass of water.

The young adults who persuade their parents to paint their bedroom walls the ghastly barbie pink,

after reading on snapchat that this is a diet secret of the rich and famous.

The adults who spend millions of pounds making sure their tea cupboards are filled with

teas promising them the key to 'slender' bodies, although ironically these products are pushed by cosmetically enhanced celebrities.

The attitude we have towards the bodies of girls and women needs to change, too many 

women are looking on social media, on their TVs and in magazines and seeing a very narrow 

representation of what beautiful is. When they log on to their instagrams the boys they

like, like images of girls who don't look like them. (Women shouldn't do things for men)

but my point is it's very disheartening when someone you like only seems to like girls who

don't look like you. We are capable of celebrating body diversity. We are not born to all

look the same, some girls will never be skinny size 4s and some girls will never be slim thick

There is a whole conversation of bodies we need to be having regularly and loudly. 

We are doing the next generation harm, and we are meant to be a little more enlightened 

than the generation before us. 

-Mal 

'5k to couch'

P.s Beauty is a social construct used to make you insecure enough 

to buy shit you don't need.  You are beautiful because you are you and 

that by itself is enough to make you the most beautiful person in any room.

That and being kind really. 

Behind every meal is death.

Sometimes it hits me and I think I used to have a father.

And in the blink of an eye I don't.

We might have not always seen eye to eye but fuck me life is lonely.

I would give an eye and a leg to feel as secure as he sometimes made me feel.

In my mind my father never dies, its a pity I don't live there.

For something that we are born to do
I know nothing of you.

I would give so much for even just a minute.
A millisecond.

I no longer dwell on the moments we had.

But rather the moments so prematurely robbed.

Because of you I am.

-Mal 

'5k to couch'