I feel a certain way
Heavy heart
So many things on my mind
When I look to the future I’m not too happy with what I see
When I look to the future
I’m not too happy about not knowing what is to come
A little uneasy.
But I should just

There are some things it don’t believe in
Achievements for others
No big deal to me
But I should be happy for them
In this happiness for the other
Is there a little trace of sorrow for myself?
Not a good thing

I can
I have. I did. I was–relaxed.
For a minute I could breathe.
Then the anesthesia of pleasantness wears off
And then I remember
All my problems reemerge
Flooding back to the light
And I get this uneasy feeling
Which is a bit difficult to pinpoint

But this feeling of uneasiness
It’s really driven by fear
This may just be the root of all my problems.
Because if I faced discord or challenges head-on
I wouldn’t be here

I’d have nothing to loose
Because I know I’ve tried
And I’ve put myself–my best self–out there
And the world can take it or leave it

But now I’m trapped in a box of fear
Waiting for tomorrow to muster up the strength to handle and solve
I’m on the verge
I could be in that place at peace in the midst of it all–whether it’s chaos or good times
But my shoes are full of cement
Cement of fear
And I need to make a move

If I don’t,
I’ll beat myself up
And wind into a cycle of some degree of self-loathing
I don’t want to be there
If I’m not there already

But I’m just being honest
Exhale. Breathe.
I’m in a weird time space
But it’s time to buck up

Of course.
I must remember the golden rule.
My Golden Rule.
Something I heard from somewhere:
Success or progress is the culmination of a series of small steps or small failures

I feel like what I’ve said just may not even make sense
That’s how up and down I am
How uncertain and certain.
Whether that may be, I still have to go about my day.

Basically My Ode to My Granny

Why was I up at 4am?

Well, I was chilling with my granny. Yes, my granny, whom I absolutely love. One day I will be her.

She just left, and to be honest, my heart has broken a little. I love her.

See, granny just flew in from Zambia. I hadn’t seen her since 2007. Before that, I hadn’t seen her since 1999.

She’s so jolly. She is loud. She’s happy. She’s wise. She’s crazy. She’s wild. She’s fun. She’s funny. She doesn’t care what anyone thinks. And she always has a bottle at hand.

In the midst of her faculties dancing and swaying by means of her drink, I saw Granny catch a glass of red wine from falling on the beige carpet in slow motion.

In the midst of vibrant and animated conversation, I saw Granny dose off. But then, all of a sudden, completely out of nowhere, Granny would jump right in and say something riveting, obliterating your amateur notions that she was too old and sleepy to keep up.

A sharp and intuitive woman. All whilst under the influence. But you would never know.

That’s how badass my grandma is. Slow motion! I kid you not.

What makes Granny so special? My paternal grandma seemed like a nice old lady at 103 years old, but I’m not sure if she knew who I was.

My mother’s mother was wonderful. In my eyes she was and still is the central part of what I pompously sometimes like to think of as the Kapilikisha Empire. She is where it all began. But time with her has been paused, and my memory is not nearly enough.

At the moment, Granny is all I have left. For the first 7 years of my existence, I knew her solely as my granny from Kablonga with the swimming pool and the great Easter parties. (Kablonga is the name of the place where she lived in Zambia).

But in 2007, as I was much older, I looked into my granny’s eyes and took a little glimpse at her soul.

Today, during this time period of July, at the lovely age of 20, I looked into my granny’s eyes and saw her soul again.

But this time I saw it with much clarity. The 7 years I went without a grandma, I forgot what it was like to have one. I forgot how good it felt. Like the ideals of having a father, for whatever reason, the ideals of having grandparents just felt distant and unreal to me.

But when I look into Granny’s eyes, I see love. I see a friend. I see someone I can laugh with. I see someone I can be silly with. And even though our time was short, I see a best friend.

I see a sweet woman. And I also see that when I looked at her soul, and got to know her a little better, I know that I only scratched the surface.

She is a nurse. A midwife. There’s so many things about my grandma that I didn’t know.  Things that I don’t know.

This woman definitely has stories and truths for days. And I can listen and be enchanted all day.

A rare thing I do, but I’ve just publicly declared someone my best friend.

My granny is a great woman with a beautiful spirit. And she is one of the people I aspire to be like.

I’m sad. She’ll be on a plane soon.

I wasn’t kidding when I said my heart has broken a little.

She probably won’t read this, but shout out to my granny, man.

Love always, Tasha.


Late night boo thang.

When it’s late at night and you want a significant other to talk to. To fall asleep on the phone with. To FaceTime. To Skype. When you want someone to ask you about your day. When you want to hear about their day too. But then reality sets in and you remember that the person that you want to fulfill this role is unavailable and probably not thinking about you at this ungodly hour.