Sitting here by engineering with my friend Yanesh. tumbling while he learning them greek numbers. Snapped some photos of him doing it. He caught me in the second one.

I haven’t created in a long time. I woke up this morning and thought of someone and just did this.  Tripnstumbl this is for you friend.

I haven’t created in a long time. I woke up this morning and thought of someone and just did this. 
Tripnstumbl this is for you friend.

3 am Conversations


The secret ways of your smile infect me
Calling my appetite out of dormancy
The damnable feeling of attraction sweeps me
Something I thought was lost begins to stir
A beast arising from it’s deep slumber
Woken by the only one who could control it
Your voice is like the finest hard drug
Devastatingly addicting, it takes me whole
A gateway to some kind of fantasy world
Drugs do not campare to the facets of your mind
Dangerously controlling a hidden part of me
We play games in the dark, silent hours
Standing at the edge of a cliff, below unknown
The feeling to jump head first encompasses me
The contemplations of the power I hold over you
I feel your power over me is much stronger
I ache to reach into you and take what is mine
The pieces of yourself that you’ve locked away
A chest of things so intimate seduces me
I am careful lest it be a pandora’s box I open
I would gladly risk it all for one taste of you
The temptation is almost blinding and I…
I must show some sense of control
But what do I register as control with you
when you have my mind going in too many directions
The temptation of your pandora’s box takes me
I’d damn it all for your sweet devastation

abovelimitations:

Why I need feminism in six easy screenshots.

(via pocproblems)

Spiralling
Sometimes it feels like I’m just spiralling downwards without stopping.

Spiralling

Sometimes it feels like I’m just spiralling downwards without stopping.

Once upon a time I was a little one
Playing in the dirt, mud up to my chin
Singing made up songs, voice off-key

Once upon a time, I was a young one
My biggest problem, the homework I did
Waiting for play time to come around again

Once upon a time, I was almost grown
General depression sinking into me so deep
Hitting the books, taking tests, making grades

My childhood innocence has long left me
Leaving me with cruel people, cruel realities
Losing my way, wondering where playtime went

Your words thick like paint
Temporary comfort for me
Maybe you cared once for me
Now, you’re tired of my presence

I like knots of all kinds
Especially the noose around my neck
Your delicate hands placed there
Another temporary comfort

Wistfully wondering what love feels like
Pondering on the one to ease my loneliness
Staring at you from behind curtains
You’ve stopped noticing me

Bury me under a silk cotton tree when I die
So my spirit may soar with the characters
Bury me under the roots of that tree
So I may spend my days with Papa Bois
In the quiet solitude and slow conversation

I am a mixture of past and present
Of influences long gone and right here
A blending of colours and features
A mixture of singing and talking
My accent is glorious
I carry the traits of the past
Upon strong shoulders of tomorrow

Imitation is NOT Acceptable: Caribbean, we need to stop with this


I don’t know how many of you have heard of Caribbean’s Next Top Model hosted by the lovely Wendy Fitzwilliam. It is supposed to be similar to the popular America’s Next Top Model but my god, it turns out to be one imitation.

The girls themselves are beautiful women in every right. From the tip of their head to the bottoms of their feet. They are aspiring models. I don’t really have time to watch the show but I saw some photos from Episode 3 in which the girls get a make-over. It was horrendous what they did to these girls.

I really need to give an example here because I am not good at explaining without one. So this young lady is Trudy-Lee. She’s absolutely gorgeous and she’s one of the contestants in the show. This is her before picture.

This is her photo after the make-over.

Trudy’s hair was so beautiful. They should’ve just put it out, give it a LITTLE trim because let’s face it: that hair is divine. instead, they cut off her locks and give it one ugly ass colour. Trudy was devastated when they cut her hair and honestly, so am I.

Some of the other girls look like they’re wearing coloured contacts as well. On a whole, the styling done to these women’s hair was poorly chosen. Many of them had their hair straightened in the make-over (or the weave got put in). Why are we still adhering with the beauty standers of the nations like the USA, UK and Europe? Why do we feel that in our own show with our own people that we need to conform with the so called beauty standards of the countries who dominate our media? It should have been done a lot better than this. And why not let them flaunt their natural hair? Why not let these women show the people watching what women of the Caribbean look like? As a Caribbean woman, I want to see these women flaunting that natural hair. I want to see them with more natural looks to them. And it is not just me. Many people who watch the show have also voiced this same opinion. Caribbean women are strong people who walk down the street with their natural hair like it’s nobody’s business. A good majority straighten their hair, yes, but many women still opt for their natural hair texture.

The show’s structure itself is a cheap imitation of America’s Next Top Model in too many ways. The challenges are a little different at times but overall with the judging especially. Even the logo and opening sequence are an imitation of ANTM. It doesn’t sit well with me at all as this is the product of Americanization of Caribbean culture and society. That we as a people cannot create something similar yet different to a show and must stick to trying to imitate the show exactly.

You know, the Caribbean has its own unique flavour to it. We have our own culture and create expressions. Our history has contributed significantly to our richness. So why can’t we use our own culture and creativity to give this show our flavour? Why must we keep imitating the Americans to feel that we are doing it “the right way”? Imitation has become unacceptable. We don’t need to imitate the show to make ours a success. We need to start getting our creative gears going and create our show with our tastes

Painted Sky (Re-do)
I tried to paint the skyBut like always I didn’t do it right

Painted Sky (Re-do)

I tried to paint the sky
But like always I didn’t do it right

One More Time

One More Time

My soul was flying above clouds
Soaring with the vultures
Hoping to empty out the darkness
The muck stuck inside it

Your mind was fair game
I filled it with all my darkness
And as much as I filled it
You transformed it into light

Your words filled the emptiness
That I never knew was there.