My Own Advice

This morning I dreamt that someone who I care very deeply about passed away. In the last couple years I've had dreams where my emotions in the dream are affected by my conscious; knowing how reality might affect the dream, or the dream affect reality. To contextualise this, my last conversation with the person who passed was a few months ago and didn't end well.

It was a tricky one because I didn't feel and still do not feel that it's my fault but that's neither here nor there. I actually don't care about that anymore but it was an important point to bring up for what's to follow.

The Irreplaceable Great

"Would you be angry at me if I told you I cried a bit this morning and it wasn't because you were in hospital?" I asked my friend as she lay in her hospital bed and I sat beside her.

True story.

This was a conversation I had with a friend on Wednesday 8th May. I awoke at 07.28. Two minutes before the alarm I forgot to set. The land awash with the the pouring of the Heavens. I prayed this would not prove to be pathetic fallacy for the same situation that had plagued my mind the night before.

09.20. It was true. Sir Alex Ferguson announces his retirement from his position as manager of Manchester United Football Club.

Broken Glass at Christmas

Come with me as I take you on a journey through the eyes of fictional character Abs Williams, of Nigerian descent (Abs being short for Abiola and the surname a result of colonisation) as he prepares for his 25th Christmas. 

An Unhealthy Obsession

All my life, I've noted in others, and at some stage most likely myself, a desire to retire early. If it wasn't retiring early, it was wanting to retire my mother early. In the more recent years of my life, I've steered well away from that notion, truly wanting to spent the rest of my breathing days writing.

Why do we as humans have such an obsession with retiring early? And why do so few of these obsessions materialise? I think I can answer the first question. It's sad to say but one of the key reasons why most do the jobs they do is because it pays. That could be paying: - the bills
- holidays
- nights out
- addictions
- children
- debts

The Stranger and His Son

Below is a short piece I wrote last year December. It had been intended for the website I was having built at the time but that has been indefinitely postponed. Nonetheless, being that time of year, here it is for your pleasure.

The Stranger and his son

There's a man who I have seen a few times in the Starbucks I go to to write. My guess would be that he is in his 50s or 60s. Having been here for the last two days, as well as seeing him on a number of previous occasions, I think it's safe to say he comes in here every day. I think its somewhat a routine for him. He comes in with his disabled son. I wouldn’t be able to tell you what kind of disability he has but to contextualise and help you to visualise (without hopefully coming across as ignorant) I would compare it to that of Stephen Hawkins, who has a motor neurone disease.

My Illicit Affair

Two nights ago I was skimming through some of my old pieces of writing and discovered a few things.
1) I used to be far more open and personal in my writing. 
2) Most of the pieces I've written in the past, I wouldn't post without heavily editing, solely due to #1.
3) There are a few pieces which are fine just as they are.

So here we have it again, another one from the vaults, which fits under the criteria of #3. I wrote this piece around two and a half years ago. Without further adieu... 

Keep Ya Head Up, Keep Your Head Down

Dear Hakeem,
I see your struggle and it can't be easy
Seeing everyone around you doing big things
Feeling like your hardwork might all be vain
Wondering when you'll get your own break.
Keep ya head up
It's yours if you keep chasing
Keep your head down
Because their story is not yours.