Random confessions

Read this in a whisper.

Because doors always hold some kind of mystery…. Taken at Old Boma building, Dar es Salaam.

• Maybe it's a problem, maybe it's not, but I admit to feel a certain kind of sadness, and it's sweet. I do nothing about it, just blame it on the enneagram type four.

• I will do anything not to touch the door-handle of a public bathroom. I once even waited for the woman who had entered, pretending to fix my braids on the mirror, only for her to come out and open it again as I subtly walked behind her to make sure it doesn't bang itself back before I stepped out.

• Many times lately, I get up in the middle of the night usually around 2 or 3am, and start thinking about many things. Like if I should start up a creative business next week or self-publish a poetry book, like by the end of this year? Then I go back to sleep.

• These days I get angry when I start to think about how some people have so little money and some others seeming to have too much. That disparity makes me wants to cry.

• Some people move out when they get to college and some others move in. My heart sinks a little sometimes, to be on the latter criteria.

• I felt like I really liked someone last year, but it felt unfair that they always had to choose between work or me, and I almost felt guilty for always having time. And so we watched that little love boat drift, and none of us bothered to throw down the anchors.

• Maybe it's just in my mind, but I always have the best of food appetites during Lent season.

• I go into bookstores sometimes and walk around reading whole pages of a couple of books and buy nothing. If I did that everyday and chose one specific book, I could have finished reading that whole book inside the bookstore and never having to buy it.

• Dementia sucks, and I wish no one ever had to experience it. But when the waters are high, you might want to build a bridge. And I feel like we built one, my dad and I. I never imagined holding hands with my dad for almost the whole time he's eating.

• I rarely ever look at people for once and just leave it there. I usually go on creating their stories in my head, imagining their private lives. Like if they are expecting a child soon, or if their rents are due, or if they had a nightmare last night and wished they could call their Mama, but never did because they feel grown up. I just think it makes them more interesting.

Now over to you, my reader!