Later

Hello reader,hoping you're doing your best in the chase for change and chance,yours truly serves you with this read. The prompt behind this was a random thought at a random hour of day about the game I so much love,basketball. I stalled in birthing it here because I was quite unsure about whether reader's would enjoy an entirely sporty piece. Here we are regardless,on that courty vibe. Basketball is a game of wit,to which height is a huge addition. Most coaches plant the tall players at the base for obvious reasons,rebounds and last man clean up business. This is a lot of work . To the smaller men,this is not to say your bakes and shakes are unnecessary. Matter of fact they are as vital as securing an offensive rebound. This right here however was a party for the bigs. They get all the attention and appraisal.  Big men are selfless,vocal and are expected to run fast enough and reach both ends in good time. The smalls can be selfish with the ball making big men their good beasts...

https://veeworld6676373.wordpress.com/2020/10/19/how-not-to-cook-3/

Welcome to my party,the ocassion is pity,pity party. Make a point of putting on black while reading this,I wrote it in black ink,seated on a black chair wearing an all black ensemble. Not that I was sad much, no. I am a big fan of black as a colour and writing about death in a black environment makes me want to go on and on. Did I mention that I am a black woman,properly tanned?  As a writer an idea pops in your mind and you pick a notebook and pen and want or rather begin to write. Midway through you realise perhaps you would have done the article justice if you had researched on it. Then you're tempted to stop midway and curse the thought of starting it in the first place. Totally missing the point you can end up with what looks to your eyes as a shitty piece below what you are as a writer. This is the story of my life and I hope in my writing I don't sound as inexperienced as the draft sounded.  Death isn't talked about much. Open discussions about death are weird to mos...

Friends,welcome to my little ted talk that I am almost certain you won't learn a thing from. That however shouldn't be reason to zone you out,come on. You need something you can relate to after a long week of chasing paper,some love or whatever the chase was about. Sigh out loud and sail on. It's a warm Saturday evening,or perhaps the warmth was just on me. What do you expect after looking  hot the entire day?Carrying around looks this good is such a struggle folks. If you think I am not hot then you're lost honestly or you just don't have taste for the finer things in life. If I wasn't into writing I am certain I'd be a great stand up comedian who makes you want to sit down and as a friend I am that and much more. I am either extra or not.  So back to that Saturday when my friends want to go out,not like I was anywhere close to them when they were planning this but I was in their mind like a chaperone or something. I am not a totaller* but I am very specifi...

It's been a while since I signed in here. Forgive my inconsistent,almost unavailable and close to lazy self. Yes I just referred to myself as lazy,for lack of a better word to describe a writer who goes for two weeks tops without writing or having a plan for a thing as such there of. Consider this the most personal I could ever get. I have battled the thought of having this here for a while and I guess I should get started before I change my mind for the a hundredth time. My mother is home,only when she's getting ready to sleep or when she's asleep. She gets up early to leave for work and returns when the 7:00pm news bulletin is halfway done. She's not answerable to anyone in the least,me. So when I confronted her about it in a way I thought was best,it didn't rub her well. It was just as I expected,she became mad at me and accused me of being ungrateful and not acknowledging her efforts to make sure we're given the best upbringing. First of all we're alread...

If you should take my child Lord Give my hands strength to dig his grave Cover him with earth God send a  little rain For grass will grow If my house should burn down So that ashes sting my nostrils Making my eyes weak Then Lord send a little rain For grass will grow But Lord do not send me madness I ask for tears Do not send me moon hard madness  To lodge snug in my skull I would you send me hordes of horses Galloping, Crushing But do not break the yoke of the moon on me                     Jonathan Kariagu Lord,I hope this day is good..🎶look up that song. I woke up feeling pumped up with the energy that emits motivation. Then I thought,why not share it here. So here we go. This poem does it all the time when no good is coming my way. The main aim of this writ is expression. I don't intend to forcefully make it your favourite but I sincerely hope it gives you a sigh moment.  I live in the countryside where grass is a carpet,natural and normal. We see grass,different types all rou...

https://veeworld6676373.wordpress.com/2020/07/25/how-not-to-cook-2/