Because life is too short to keep you from living your truest.
In May last year, I wrote an article called Quit Social Media…based off of the Cal Newport TedTalk where he said you’d be happier and better off with out it in your life.
I was accused of gaslighting (manipulating a subject and making someone believe that what they are saying is untrue) someone I utterly respected, and since that time have been resolved, it continues to be just as problematic.
Alas, a year has come and gone, and here I am in…
Pain can only take you so far.
It is so much easier for people to hold onto grudges than to let them go. It becomes a sort of crutch. Some kind vindication for what has happened to you, a justification, for all of the pain caused. It’s easy to stay hurt and bitter, than it is to free yourself.
Having spiritual and emotional blocks do nothing for human development. Have you ever held a grudge so long, you have no idea why you are holding it? …
And how we can fight for their childhoods.
My Grandad didn’t always tell me Anansi stories. Though growing up I knew a lot about the trickster-spider-God, thinking back to my childhood I struggle to understand how.
When he told me my first two Anansi stories I was already 23, visiting family in Jamaica for a month. We went on a drive to get ice cream from Montego Bay.
‘H’Alex,’ he asked me from the driver’s seat.
‘Yes, Grandad?’ I asked, watching the winding roads filled with merchants and fruit sellers. …
And why you waste time giving it to others.
There are numerous ways in which we lose our personal power. Is it story time?
I was getting on the train to work today, where I met a friend of mine. We talked for a moment with the initial chit chat that comes with the London commute, but then we got onto work.
All of a sudden I felt compelled to tell him the amount of hours I was working, on top of producing Mostly Lit and engineering other projects. Foolishly I began to say “80 HOURS A WEEK! Can you…
Something on lesson learning, friendships, blame and rebuilding.
This past year has been a challenge. I have consistently fought against the profession I inadvertently fell into. I have tried to manage and grow my passion project. I have made many new friends, and lost some I thought were good for me. Some faded away silently, others went in an explosive rage.
But if there is one thing that I have learnt from this year and all of its challenges, is that there is always a connection.
As a society we are always told to ask the world, universe or God…
Because I am my own worst enemy sometimes.
I don’t trust anything that I write anymore.
For some reason, I have had what one could call a ‘writer’s drought’. Not so much a block, because I can definitely come to write when I need to, but more of a drought. A quality within the writing has gone.
I will write something so important to me, but have some irritating tenuous piece that doesn’t end up representing the thought I had. Or it might, but I think it’s because I honestly don’t trust it.
And the reason I don’t trust it…
When did we become so self absorbed?
Of late, being ‘busy’ has become one of the most over used and over played phrases in our generation. Along with ‘I haven’t got time’ and being ‘booked’ (with a T), these phrases have been moulded into language to position speaker as modifiers to ultimately dismiss what is lacking in this generation: visceral emotion.
Let’s unpack this. As a generation we are so caught up in ‘self’ – self care, self love – and while that is a great thing to behold, there is, as with most things, its antithesis.
Repeatedly falling from…
Because music is one of my coping mechanisms.
For the introduction of my #MentalHealthAwarenessWeek posts I wanted to talk briefly about coping mechanisms.
Healthy coping mechanisms are great because, when your brain is musty — you tend to do musty things.
Most of the time when in a negative spiral I find myself eating atrociously and not looking after myself at all. My body inflates and my self-esteem lowers. It all becomes quite unbearable.
So the following is a collection of things that help me ‘cope’ when the times get really rough.
There was a stage where I wrote profusely about the pain men cause. From childhood, to adolescence and fatherhood. It consumed me. It turned almost cancerous. I began to ache until I could ache no more, and I crashed. Plummeted into myself and stopped writing.
This is what writing trauma did to me.
Any person who engages with me even remotely whether on the topic of books, will know that I am a huge Junot Diaz fan. …
Why writing is like therapy to me, and what it means for how I write.
I can’t afford a therapist, so I write.
Growing up, it was the only way that I could communicate to other people without hyperventilating or running away in abject shame at my pipsqueak voice and my awkward countenance.
Writing stories of escaping, or diving into fan fiction or creating worlds that only I could imagine existing, I began to long for some kind of freedom from ‘it all’.
When I was nine or ten, I wrote a letter to my parents.
The letter, which showed…