letters to people I love: mein gegenwärtiges Leben in den vergangenen Monaten

 

aug 7th, 2020 - letters to people I love: on trying to breathe through a pandemic and another resurgence of the 1960s crm.

  

i hope this letter finds you safe. 

comforted. and whole.

in these uncertain times, 

you've been beaten down by the world.

and all that it seeks to protect.

i know that you have been pitted against it. against each other. 

for this is a new normal. 

this is not normal. 

but it must be for now. 

a covid break of platonic interactions.

 

the friendship root [2.0].

my parents bore me in the darkness of the buganda tribe. 

in a mud hut,

that was short of life.

it barely kept its body and soul together upon my arrival.  

because the straws that were made up its roof were withering, 

like the love of my parents soon would.

i tell you 

this 

because 

i have deleted you. 

from every part of my being.

from every part of me that you ever touched - whispered into - smiled at

and from every dream you ever invaded.

we are became lost to each other.

 i was wrong.

in

gravitating

to

you

simply because i so wanted to believe that we were the same level of damned.

hungry to believe that our rotten beginnings were enough 

-

to drown out 

the transient laughs masking the loneliness of this one-sided affinity.

in this ephemeral of existence, 

this is what i know

of my mother and father’s life in love; 

of the things, the human race mourns about… mourns for, and after

“love” - 

should not be amongst them.

life is so long. 

you will not be the only one that i fall in love with.

because

we were young when we got into a friendship.

without much thought.

but we learnt to grieve deeply when it was lost.

but we were better at hurting each other childishly,

like my parents.

3am rumblings.

the friendship root. 

my parents bore me in the darkness of the buganda tribe 

in a mud hut short of life 

because the straws that made up its roof withered like their love eventually would 

i tell you 

this 

because 

i deleted you. 

from every part of myself that you ever touched 

from every dream you ever delicately whispered into my ear 

we became lost to each other 

in the fleeting time 

i 

gravitated 

to

you 

i was wrong. 

i wanted to believe that we were the same level of damned 

desperate to believe that our rotten beginnings would be enough 

to drown out the one sided forced interactions, crappy silences and uninvited smiles 

this is what i know 

of my mother and fathers life in love 

of the things the human race mourns about... mourns for, and after 

life is so long, you will not be the only one that i fall in love with 

when we were young we always got into a relationship without much thought

but learnt to grieve deeply when it was lost 

but we were better at hurting each childishly 

for the low days/moments/years.

1. remind yourself everyday that life is just a process ... a temporary process
and that as sad as it seems
you will never able to do all that you want
because things take time.
remember that in thing regarding life ... in regarding moments where you need to remind yourself how to breathe
take all the time needed and a bit more
because your physicality and mentality are important
so don't go crazy but also do go crazy
bearing in mind that no one ever really wins at life

2. and this is the beauty of this terrible existence.

june 6th 2020.

How WE die - a repost.

i thought that it was fitting for the current state of america.

originally posted on dec 11th 2017.

by the barrel of the guns of the police

by the policies of their president

by the hands of our own people 

by the limitations of the education system 

by the injustices of the justice system 

by the bars of our jail cells 

by the tears of our parents, of our ancestors 

by the sadness of our parents when we get stuck in the hood

by the words, you spit at us

-

but this is not how we die 

not in front of our unseeded/seeded dreams 

not in front of our unborn/born children 

not in front of our mothers and fathers

your racist trauma is how we survive 

we are a people 

a whole muthafuckin race

from the archives. [samm henshaw.]

the jet lag tour, from the living room set, with love from samm henshaw. 

may 16th 2019.

on your twenty second year of life [may 1st 2020]

welcome to another glorious year of your life,
one that i hope brings you your aladdin wishes.
but not ours.
we closed in october, at the capitol.
and i was sorrowful for truly the first time, in a while,
it stung. a lot.
but it grew on me,
like the moss that has grown on the memories of the people i left behind.
so let's not disturb this newly found peace of ours,
evoking our misplaced and half-hearted thoughts.
because it's taken me so long to get here.
to find peace once more in forging a life without you.
you are no longer my favourite staple,
but i'll always be the one that roots for you the most.

welcome back, forgotten misft.

hi there,

its been a while. when i stopped writing on here, i stopped writing in general and i lost my way. but i think i'm back now. i hope i'm back.

i finished my final year at leicester on monday 18th may 2020. by that i mean, i submitted my last essay and slept for more than a while. it felt good. it felt needed. but when i woke up, i was back to the old me. anxiety-driven. with even more insomnia than before. but being here, writing here feels good. it feels like the old me. and i'm glad to see her again.