Putting pen to paper

I opened up my notes app once and wrote a paragraph describing my disconnect with everything. I know, 'shits getting deep' but although I'm far from good at writing I enjoy putting my thoughts to paper.

I don't know I guess I'm just warming up my writing skills, yeh there you go that's the purpose of this blog post; preparation and practice?!

War within-

"Dream of a tyrant knocking you to the ground. Wake up from your terrible fantasy. One day the walls will crumble and porcelain dolls crack. Roof caves in and lonely you stand in a corner crying for a saviour, for a God. 

Darkness blinds you from smiling and sharing, there's a palm on your bitter mouth. A venomous volcano erupts and lava spits on every flower and blackens the earth. Charcoal flakes puncture the foot, molten rubber sticks sock to your sole. Choking on the stench of human roast, screams pierce your shadows. The soul has awoken, fluent in petrol and flames. And the brash bone cage lay silent as the insides melt away." 

I hope I didn't depress to impress!

Keep smiling- Bridesmaids

It's Christmas Eve and I need wifi

It's Christmas Eve. 

Yes, that's me in the corner...everyone stared at me as I took a selfie with the brass band. 

I'm at Liverpool street station, paranoid, as an announcement just blared "this is an emergency evacuate immediately." 

I thought of bombs, death, the end was nigh! Wallahi I was bricking it.

Yep, no one moved. So with the great advantage of having little legs I scurried up the stairs, yes stairs not the escalator. In fear of being "the" news as opposed to presenting the news in future. (Yes I still hold onto that dream.) 

As I step foot outside I'm happy as my lungs are breathing in fresh air and I'm ecstatic as I'm spoilt for choice! Costa or McD's lol. It's not food that I'm after, I WANT WIFI. We are a week away from 2015 and there's no fucking WIFI! Are you dumb?! I-cloud is a disloyal bitch.

I decided to perch up beside Costa, not going in as I have two sorry pounds in my pocket lol. And besides its just a drop in, no seats. I look into the station and people are slowly starting to go inside ...hmm maybe the emergency wasn't an emergency after all. 

I'm still paranoid.

BUT I have an EMERGENCY, CAN SOMEONE hear me OUT PLEASE? I NEED WIFI. 

No I don't have credit. No I'm not on contract. And yes I'm still that bitch who uses pay as you go because funnily enough I'm comfortable with that, ALRIGHT? 

Yes as you can tell I'm bloody fuming. I'm an hour early. Clearly I'm very eager to see Simone. 

PJ:(Drita it's just a joke don't wack me)

My glasses are sliding down my nose, I haven't mastered the gravitational pull on them just yet, because I actually wear contacts on a daily basis. But guess what I decided to do with them? Yes, I decided to peel them off my eyeballs that one day I did an all-nighter in the library. My eyes were dry as fuck okay and when that happens I get a headache. So yeah, I took them out and admired the way they dried up to a crisp. 

Now you can understand why I'm single. It all makes sense. I'm actually a mess. 

(No Santa I don't want a match.com login thank you, I'm perfectly fine I was js.)

I woke up at 6 okay. So don't question anything you have just read, just know that I'm pissed off. Sat in Liverpool St Station with no wifi. My hands stinking of  bloody M&S handmade salt and vinegar crisps that I bought for 89p (89% of which was VAT and air). I'm sat on a metal bench so my bum feels like it's wet. Every time I look up an old man stares right back. There's a group of toffs tooting brass instruments to Christmas classics I.e jingle bells. So in conclusion everyone's having a merry fucking Christmas as I sit with my mini suitcase, twitching my nose and frowning as I question my sanity on this smooth morning of Christmas Eve. 

Anyhow, I wish everyone a very merry Christmas and a happy new year motherfuckers! X 

From nudes to skin tones, to skin talks

Today, I sat in a talk which I thought would influence, inspire or entice me to like my supposed career path.

Here we go...

So, as I sit trying to catch my breath as quietly and as subtly as I could, the speaker is sat on the stage with a lecturer from my university in a Newsnight fashion.

At first, I heard “being the only Asian at that time,” he instantly got my attention.

He talked a lot, the questions formed by the lecturer were shit to be honest, “who was your favourite lecturer?” for example, what a time waste. If this was 20 years back is that question still relevant now? No.

I looked around, there was a mix of males and females from all backgrounds listening in to what this talk entailed. Not going to lie, I was waiting for one question. And that one question was brought up at about 13.37 when I was just about to check my notifications on Facebook.

I threw my phone into my bag.

“So I mean, erm so like would you say that the posh Asian girl who went to posh schools and received proper education is more likely to get to where you are at now, I mean working for the BBC etc…” and he went off on a dry ending as he adjusted his choking belt around his pregnant belly.

Hold up though.

“Posh Asian girl?” 

Who’s that pls?.

My neck twitched. My curls now stuck to my lip gloss.

I thought to myself…

Is this dick for real? I’m no toff, but I’m no scrounger either. But wow, that was a big dose of “fuck you”. Number one, what the hell is “proper education”, and two I ain’t from no posh school. So suck on my dick when I sit here knowing fully well I worked my arse to get to where I am, through cultural and religious barriers. Not a silver spoon stuck up my arse and Dr Khan as my dad. I want no medal, but that was insensitive and benefited no one in the room, instead he embarrassed his toff ass and grew pink in his porky cheeks.

“So how did you feel being brown, I mean is that why you got into the positions you did...?”

Lol, “feel being brown” ??  Like it’s a symptom of God’s mishap.

“It’s not about skin colour, it’s about the cultural and social background that you come from.”

I became nostalgic of that one time (in band camp) in year 10, I was pulled into an empty room and was sat at a table of Asian girls, and this one line shrieked in my right ear “don’t end up cooking chapati, we want to see you girls in uni!!” as I sat with sweaty palms and a throat full of phlegm ready to spit at this ethnic representative authority figure.

So I guess now I class as a brown face in university, and perhaps ten years down the line I’ll be asked the exact same question about “feeling brown”. Lol

Back to this talk.

The guy went on to say how he was someone who no one had come across before, he was new something fresh. All because he was a Muslim Asian male, full of ideas to make these controversial, religiously touching and political documentaries.

Okay. I can do that without having a dick.

My conscience spoke to me.

“If you’re from a background where you know you won’t get any help, it’s better to recognise that as early as possible, it’s very important.” 

Okay... 

“If you know you’re from an immigrant background, back then no one gave a shit what you thought about."

Right...

“If you are from a certain social status, or class then you immediately fall into the trap of being disadvantaged in the world of work.”

Yes I fucking get it!

I know the reality but can you give me something to take away from this please?!

Where’s my motivation? 

(Plays Motivation by Kelly Rowland.)

What I wanted to ask before his ass left the auditorium was, “where the fuck do I fit into this?”

I'm an Asian female! Does that mean I can tick a professional’s boxes like he did?

Am I supposed to seek creativity through “keep doing what I'm doing?” cos what the fuck does that mean any more?

“The degree didn't even help me where I am now, it was taking every work experience I could.”

Someone take me!!!

You know what? It fucking sucks having all the passion but no one to push you further. No Asian female that has actually made me go “woah shit, if she can do it then so can I!” Instead I'm seeing Riz Lateef presenting the news looking pretty and Mishal Hussain talking to Syrian political figures. They are symbols of success but…. I don’t see them for who they are, I'm blinded by their BBC microphones for crying out loud!

Instead, I'm behind the bars of higher education, work experience: work for other people so that I can gain a few more bullet points under the “skills” subheading on my CV.

“The BBC employs 12.4% (BAME) staff.” That stands for Black and Asian Ethnic minority people btw.

So you tell me, whether that’s deflating or motivating?

I need my bed. Where’s bae at?

*Realises there isn't one, eats cold pizza and sways to Isaiah Rashid.*

My Tinder experience

My thumb hurts.

I have been sat here crossing off so many people that I feel sick by the reality of what I am actually doing. Now, don't get me wrong, the soul purpose of the app is to dig whoever you want and get wet when your phone screen lights up to tell you "you have a MATCH".

Let me tell you my story.

So I'm sat in my living room with my three other friends and I am on the app store downloading Tinder. It'll be a laugh right? Why not. Okay, so I now have to go on Facebook because my current profile picture was not cutting it. Finally, I upload a buff picture and voila. I have entered the world of Tinder.

Right...so it's been 2 hours and I haven't actually matched anyone apart from my three friends LOL.

Suddenly I come across this guy, who looks racially ambiguous, 21 and good looking. Ayeee.

Fast forward. It's now the day after and I am sat waiting for my future manager to hurry the fuck up and ask me all the questions in the world for this weekend job that I was desperate for. I didn't get it. Anyway...

My phone lights up. It's a match. It's that guy. He says "What's good". 

This convo fi dead.

Surprisingly over the course of five days conversations and emotions started brewing. He was an art student, I liked art! I liked slow jamz and so did he. I guessed his favourite model; David Gandy. He guessed which uni I went to. We always talked, always. We had phone calls where he was nervous and sat through silences lol. Eventually we couldn't wait to meet up one day. 

(Yeah, you're probably listing all the possible consequences in your head, trust me so was I.)

It's the day before we will eventually meet and I am sat in Chicken Cottage with my two friends. All of a sudden I get a phone call. This guy is telling me he's at my university and thought he'd just let me know. 

Okay.

Well damn. This is a bit sudden. So of course as we had mutual feelings. (I thought.) I may as well take this opportunity to see the guy in person. I told my friends and with excitement we drove off to uni.

Whilst I'm sat in the car, I'm angry because he feels a bit invasive. I'm nervous because it feels like he wanted to catch me off guard. I'm excited that possibly he was eager to see me. I'm happy because now I can see whether the chemistry exists. It seemed to good to be true.

What if I'm on catfish? 

My friends stayed in the car and watched as I walked up to embrace my Tinder Romeo.

Yeah, he said he was 5'11...nah don't think so. But his eyes glistened in the light and his smile was warm. The conversation was smooth and beneath the layers of sickly sweet I couldn't help but choke on reality.

Something didn't feel right. He was nice. But Tindering, texting, calling and the meeting a stranger in 5 days. Too surreal for my instincts. Call me Drake but I have trust issues and my gut was in knots.

Anyway, I brushed myself off and obviously got gassed when I got home. My friends constantly teasing me like...."ayeeeee Is that you yeah?" I was asking myself the same question.

So it's finally our day! We were going to meet at midday outside Green Park station and he would ring me before hand. I got dressed, hair and make-up on 10. 

And I waited and waited and waited. No message, no calls. No nothing. Then I called on private and his sister picked up.

Tinder Romeo blocked me.

He blocked my calls and didn't see or respond to my messages. I thought something had happened. I honestly let myself think that this guy could be in trouble. What if he had lost his phone? Or didn't get home safe?

I should have rang Drake to hit the studio.

I was officially Miss Havisham of 2014. Hell no was I gonna stay in and let this get to me, so I went out shopping. :)

I hate shopping.

It's about 5 now. Like the investigative journalist I am...I checked his instagram and he had posted a picture of himself. He's alive. Oh so he is safe. He didn't lose his phone. Lol. 

"Keep smiling"-Bridesmaids

This emotional roller coaster wasn't even worth my eyebrows on flick and waterproof mascara after all. I let myself believe that this guy was just a normal genuine person after my own heart (pussy).

Took me 24 hours to get over it because it was hard to disconnect from the emotional reality of it all. But this isn't to say I'm sad, I'm just glad I went through this. And I hope he loses his phone and karma causes his balls to malfunction.

*laughs at self whilst Patrick my lecturer bangs on about government funding*

For me bae is out there...just not online.

*deletes app*

~Karma is a bitch? well just make sure that bitch is beautiful~ 

On the road to freedom

It isn't everyday nag, sigh and give up with my mother and I. In fact today I feel extremely proud of her and I shall explain why.

Perhaps patriarchy doesn't play a huge part in modern families in Britain. But, it exists. With consideration to traditional home values in our South Asian culture it's twisting and  turning every so slightly in Britain. Western ideas have indeed awoken new paths for women such as, working, breaking the breadwinner stereotype and smashing the glass ceiling and thriving from factors like education. Women like Nawal El Saadawi and Monica Ali exist, but I want to focus on a woman that I am very much connected to. 

And here I turn to my mother. She flew to the UK at 14 with no understanding of the English language let alone the Western dress code.

Tailoring is also one of her passions and here she is stood at the age of 20, representing 70's print with her brother.

My granddad, her father, migrated to West Ham to work and earn to give back to his family in Pakistan. But, he later thought it was wise to introduce his family to Britain and arranged for them to move here; this was convenient financially and socially. My grandfather, an orphan, wanted to make a change. He built a mosque himself and decided to travel the world. From Germany, Switzerland, Holland, France, Spain, Ghana, America, India, Saudi Arabia, Bangladesh and of course Pakistan. 

Back to my mother. She dropped out of education at the age of 16, cared for my Nan at home whilst her two brothers worked and earned money alongside my granddad. Then she got married and 5 years later, me, I, yes the one and only was born.

Leave me alone. Clearly I stuck to my individualism from a very young age. 

The first four years of my life consisted of wearing dungarees, watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and learning how to say "Michael Schumacher" without stuttering. 

After having four more siblings, life became hectic and family came first no matter what for my mother.

"What did you want to be when you were older?"

"I dreamed of becoming a doctor ever since I can remember. But y'know..." she laughed "life happened."

I love hearing that sentence, I know it didn't happen but it's the dream that brings a silly smile on my face.

Why I'm proud of her? 

Well...I love seeing her doing something for herself. She's so selfless it sometimes breaks my heart to think she doesn't have any leisure time! But when she does...it brings me so much joy! Like, seeing her drive! That's more independence than the average Arab princess in the Middle East.

Today I looked into her eyes and said "come let's drive somewhere."

Her face screamed, no. But I like to think persuading, motivating and luring are my biggest strengths. So, I didn't give up and hell yeah we sat in her car. I was ready. I knew she felt the rush. The kids are at school and it's just me and her. Freedom baby! Engine started, windows down, sun, songs and smiles. That was it. But it gave me great pleasure to push her towards independence. You have to break boundaries. She was alive. That's the beauty of freedom. 

So yeah, fuck you patriarchy. My mother drove on the open roads of kuffar Britain, wearing bright colours and shat rainbows on every stereotype that poisoned her independence. 

What a woman.

Spray it, don't say it

I was supposed to look over the shop floor until I saw a book displayed in a cabinet and 'shawty went in'. I indulged in Banksy's revolutionary riddles and staple stencils. From political persecution to  adorable anarchy. His art speaks to me.

SEE WHAT I MEAN?!

I was about to start on a portrait of my own. But Banksy makes me want to switch things up a bit. The quote below took over the majority of my brain and stayed there until I got home and united with my laptop.

“There are four basic human needs; food, sleep, sex and revenge.” ― Banksy

Food:

Yeah my relationship with food is amazing. I think about the fucker every second. Food keeps you going doesn't it, it's that little devil voice inside you telling you *you are hungry* and in 5 seconds flat you find yourself scoffing calories, saturated fats, sugars and ten years down the line...you are diabetic. *shrugs* My addictions; coffee, cake, nuts, granola bars, pineapple, dried mango, fish and chips, green tea, and a massive war between Kitkat's and Snickers. mmmm yeah they all hit the spot.

Sleep:

Okay, I'm not a big fan of sleep. Maybe that's because I sleep really really really late and even if I am in bed early my eyes don't like to close untill 00:20am. I have no idea how my sleep pattern will fix itself before uni starts again, I'll adjust. I dream every night. And I always dream about twenty things at once!!! If only I remember what I actually dreamt about and whether it had any meaning to my life. If I remember them, I Google the meaning. Go on judge me. It's not about believing what you read, it's just....okay it's exactly that. Once I dreamt that I was on John Legends tour bus (that was no pun shutup) and I was literally talking to him about his music. *sighs*

Sex:

I'm sick and tired. Just sick and tired of seeing people in my year with babies. Babies galore. Scans, left right and center of my Facebook newsfeed, even if I don't have them as a fucking friend someone has gone and liked a scan picture haven't they! Now look, it's good, embrace your genitals with your "loved ones" or the bloke next door but don't moan about not being ready, not having enough benefits and not being able to top-up because you want to have a quick word with Jeremy Kyle. Don't do it. If you can handle all that, by all means, laugh. Laugh some more, enjoy life and love your children! But there's just something inside me that doesn't agree with Facebook baby boom just to tell everyone that your vagina is now open, fragile and abandoned by your baby daddy. Do I think about sex?...get out of here like I'm going to tell you about my erotic fantasies, who are you, Idris Elba?

Revenge:

You could argue, revenge is a calculated plan of action to stab someone in the back if they've stabbed yours. But I mean...is it worth it? It's like you see the whole Gaza conflict, Hamas fighting because Israel started it, Isreal not backing down because Hamas will continue to inflict danger on them. Like, shut up. Sit down and discuss what's the issue here. Obviously, that is now calm due to the ceasefire and political peace talks but it doesn't mean war stops there. There's internal wars. We all have them (okay if you don't, I certainly do). You decide over time, you dislike someone, then you see them in person and you tell yourself that actually...why let someone make you so bitter like that. Forgiveness gets you places that revenge cannot.

I didn't order an Eton Mess?

The one place where the air is thick with toffee syrup, ground coffee and middle class dribble. Costa. I'm with my sister and as usual we look around for two spaces that aren't next to a family, a couple or a mute old man. We join the queue made up of grey haired women, men in suits and now us. As we stand looking like two specs of cocoa in a glass of warm milk my eyes are struggling to read the price list. Yes, I keep forgetting to wear my bleeding contacts. My mind was set on a pot of tea and a lemon muffin. (I definitely recommend it!) So, we stand and sigh as we wait. Then, two boys with silver spoons stuck up their backside join the queue. I didn't think nothing of it until they began to elbow my back as they laughed about their amusing cocaine incident at their last party. See, this is why being short isn't fun. People are often mislead about my height, thinking I'll smile at the idea of being pushed a little and fucking elbowed for that matter. 

I stand containing my anger and finally I order the pot of tea and two lemon muffins. The boys continue to talk so loudly, I don't understand how they were so casual about it but to be fair they were surrounded by their usual environment; the proud middle classes. As the barrister set up my tray, these buffoons thought it was wise to put their stinking sandwiches, innocent smoothies 'what-have-you' in front of my tray. Now look, like I said, I am short. I can't reach the tray to save my life. 

"Would you please excuse me, I can't get to my tray"

"hahahahahahahah oh shit"

"Did I say something that upset you?"

"hahahahahahaha" the two Tesco value blocks of butter were in hysterics.

Spraying their spit. 

"well?"

Both gave a look of *wtf* and *who does this thing think she is?*

Fuming, but nevertheless we sat down next to this Portuguese man and my sister sat opposite me. I take a look around. No one's brown. Does this effect me? Yeah, because I was put in a situation where I fought the stink of internalized racism. Being laughed at just because a brown girl spoke back. No one understood that one very moment of being undermined. Do you think the same would have happened if I was white? No it wouldn't have. What got to my tits the most was eavesdropping their conversation as they rejoiced their mums at the table behind us.

"ahahahaha, and she was like..."EXCUSE ME" who does she think she is?"

"I know, all she had to do was lift the tray over our food, so stupid"

"Why would you even say that to us?"

"hahahahaha, oh just leave it hahaha" one of the mums concluded.

Good thinking bitch. 

You may question why I was passive to the situation itself but to be honest my mind was dealing with more important shit at the time. Besides, my sister kept me sane by grabbing my hand and warning me not to turn around. But can you fucking blame me? People laughing at my expense and for what? 

It's true. I'm sat in an Italian established coffee shop which gave birth in 1971, London. I wouldn't know how a non-white person would feel in that time and place. Ah yes, time and place. Maybe these factors are to blame for why the shop wasn't full of non-white people. This particular coffee shop was on top of a book shop. Oh yes!! that explains it (!). The uneducated, problem causing, terrorist talking non-whites aren't found in places like these you see (!). They prefer to sit by with blue collared jobs whilst their women produce babies and orgasm over patriarchy (!). My only message to those two Eton mess' is fuck you. Fuck you and I hope you choke on your next popodom and whilst you're at it shove another silver spoon up your arse until you're in so much agony that you need to call your Pakistani private doctor "Dr. Shah" to leave you with a fat bill, leaving your Barclays saving's account to a minus four digit figure. 

I have to eat curry because I'm brown

So I stand at my stall at an "all white" fair, with the exception of the stand on our left which polluted the air with samosas and salad. I'm cold, wet and shivering. Three feelings which come under neglect.

I stare at my table which looks like something out of 'My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding' I sigh at how I can't afford the maroon bag with embossed snake print because it's £4.99 and I only have three sorry pounds in my pocket.
I sold nothing. Minutes, hours went by and all I could think of was the samosas. They smelt like my aunts at Eid, but the association didn't put me off at all. We set up at 10am and now it's 12.45pm. Fuck it. I wanted tea. Yes. Best believe coffee has been eliminated from my diet because...I can't think of a reason but I'll get to it one day. So...I politely ask my colleagues and off I went. It was like God blessed me with the ice bucket challenge as soon as I left the stall. Soaking. Drenched. I now stood outside the burger bar. Two fat white men were "busy" assembling a burger for the old lady in front of me. I stood for three long minutes until I was noticed.
"Hello!"
"Hello, two teas please!"
"Two Teas!" and he poured hot water into two cups.
"We sell tea to everyone you know! Everyone."
Now hol' up. What?! Why is he saying that?
"Yeah...I know" I replied.
"I mean, everyone!"
I wanted to sandwich his dick in the grill.
The white old lady smiled to reveal her dentures and her side man smiled too.
"How much change would you like?"
Right he's testing me, brave.
"Well, considering one cup of tea is 60p, lets double that to make it £1.20, so £5- £1.20"
"Yeah, go on then" grinning.
Why the fuck is he smiling?
"£3.80"
His fat friend in the van laughs and drops his spatula.
Ben Dover for your man, prick.
"Thanks have a good day!" and I walked away with my tea+rain.

Next.

I'm stood behind my stall again. Waiting for customers to buy something again. My boots are wet and my feet are wet again. I can smell the waft of my aunt again.

"I'm SO hungry!" I moaned.
"So, what's it you eat then?"
"What?"
"I mean like, do you just eat curry and stuff?
Did I wake up to the year 1971?
"I like all cuisines, what makes you say that?"
"Well, you know you look like you really want a samosa so I thought..."
Wow
I smiled and replied "I enjoy every cuisine as much as you love your mum's bangers and mash."
He didn't know what to say so he shut his dumb-fuck mouth and continued to stare at his thumbs.

Now look. I'm not saying I want to create a jihad with people who aren't my skin colour. No. What I'm saying is, racism isn't as obvious anymore. It's not even religious discrimination. It's undermining the intelligence of someone who clearly looks different to you and the fuck load of ignorance that comes with it. I don't have to comment on these circumstances, but I think it's only right to confront this treatment. It's not the worst, but you have to let people know wagwarn.

I came across the mayor of Milton Keynes. A brown face. I wanted to shake his hand (whether that's religiously correct or not). He's Asian and he gave me the nod which equated to "respect".

I looked around and thought to myself about the lack of brown faces amongst the crowd. I feel sad that I am stood with stereotypical comments attacking me from left and right. I feel sad that my community is immersed in the regime of prayer, mute women and patriarchal men. What the fuck. Community only gets stronger once you let people understand you and it's sad that my family (community) aren't like that at all. I'm confined in my parent's culture where they state someones skin colour before their name and that isn't right either. I don't feel social solidarity at all. It's still fractured and it's because of this shitty little prejudice people contain inside them. 

And on that note, I just won 1-0 against India on Fifa. I was Côte d’Ivoire, big up my main man Yaya Toure.

Central London on my ones

13/05/2014

Sat on a bench in Hyde Park with the bipolar weather giving me sweats every two minutes in my Ted Baker coat.
Being careful not to sit in a sneaky puddle.

My boots are resting in the slightly pebbled path and I can feel my toes getting wet. Foreign people, actually German people walking past, the litter picker in his khaki hat walks past me. A group of eleven hench men following the path I front of me, 'ballers' I guess. And a Spanish nuclear family watching their three year old chase a squirrel round the trees. A modern looking scouts group on my left having a piggy back race and I hear a leash behind me.

Suitcases scrape as four girls walk past, their faces screaming 'i'm fucking jet-lagged'. 

Oh it's a sausage dog. There's a theme of holding big umbrellas if you're wearing a suit. And if you're not wearing a suit you're looked up and down like a dog.

All I wanted was a piss, I walked into Everbean, a cafe, that's a five minute walk from the Albemarle Gallery. That's were I was today. I was eager to visit Okafor's portrait exhibition. Stunning detail and marble floors only followed by glares and botched noses.

A typical middle class man walked in and the man at reception walked over to him only to ask if he was alright. He informed him about the gallery, the artist's history and handed him an A4 paper that listed all the portraits one by one.

Did I get one? Nah. Two women, both black walked in. Did they get one? Nah.

I think I wasn't dressed appropriately. Perhaps if I bought a blazer and some heels it would have done the trick. Or if I walked in with Gucci shades and a LV scarf. Maybe if I walked in with an Arab dad, or a white friend. Perhaps if my hair was permed straight and I spoke Queen's English. I should have done that really.

Throughout the whole day I had one conversation. One. The lovely lady without judgement asked me if I needed help. This was in the Fine Art building bear New Bond Street I think. I'm talking like I know the place. I walked past LV, Fendi, Chanel, I could go on. Audi, Ferrari and every logo. The Chalet bar, Starbucks, Pret, Eat, men, women, dogs, taxis, cabs, Bentleys, German whips. English, foreign. Italian, Arab, French, German, Iranian, Dutch, Thai Embassy. streets, grunge.

Well I pictured most of it. I am now in Hyde Park. Where there's a diversity. You need diversity. Well I need it cos I've had enough of people looking at me head to toe.

Chavs, now walk past, I quietly type cos lord knows if my phone gets taken I may just turn Solange on their asses and there is no CCTV to back me up. I'm empty inside. My belly is full of coffee and thoughts. I'm feeling really weird, like I've just fell in a pit.

It's called a thought hurricane and a storm of reflection. Damn I'm hungry.

Income v Charity

So, just like every normal student who has nothing to do in their free time I started looking for jobs, left right and center and didn't get one single reply. This lasted for about a month and a half, I applied for internships stretching all the way to London as well as retail jobs in my local city center. Thing is, my mind couldn't take it no more. The efforts of going through application after application and you're sat waiting for some random Sarah to ring/e-mail you sending her regards? just no.

The need for money is always there, as a young woman its a priority to make money because I think it's part of being independent at my age. I then turned my back on money and started to think about charity. Yes, you're now thinking...that's not money. Well fuck money. If they don't want me i'm sure there's other people out there that do. I thought long and hard about the long term effects of charity work in the UK and how they influence the conditions which we see on a regular basis on television advertisements. Seeing the news about Gaza and feeling hopeless started to annoy me. So, I did the one thing I could. I simply walked into an Oxfam shop and said "I'm all yours."

From an uneducated perspective, you'd think I'm simply doing what every other retail assistant is doing but for free. Nah, I think it's much bigger than that. I feel good knowing that I'm not just helping, but i'm donating hours of my time to go towards those in need. Living in a MEDC I believe we have everything at our fingertips no matter what the struggle. Benefits, loans what have you. I am just another impatient student who needs money as a means of immediate gratification. I know I need money to get by, but I broadened my horizons and thought I am a university student. My education is the passport to a future career, but for now I could possibly save lives in countries that need it more than me. 

I chose Oxfam because I trust it. Their work isn't a 3minute advert between Come Dine With Me.

They contribute towards girls' education in Pakistan which combats the problem of gender inequality and equal rights. A challenge that my own mother faced. Also they have concentrated on midwives in Ghana, they've helped distribute tissue, water and soap to prevent diseases in Kenya and they continue to promise change in many other countries in crisis.

Money comes and goes. I hope to have a stable future once I have completed my degree. So, being part of a charity and knowing I can impact other people's future's for the better is a blessing. 

What's on my mind...

let me tell you.

I walk around these days, noticing fashion evolve into some crazy shit, most of it is dry and the rest is moist. But there's just one thing that gets on my tits. 

I sat on the train and everyone starts to stare at my hand. I had drawn a henna design the day before, and so yes there is a creative doodle on my hand which everyone ate with their eyes. I over heard a girl once talk to her bestie "oh my god, like they do this semi-permanent tattoo and i'm gonna get one like on my back, it's so sick and now "___" wants one too". Really? really? you ain't seen a henna tattoo before? 

Okay, so what? Henna tattoos are a thing and always have been since people love to get them especially on holiday. But my argument is...tradition has only just become noticed and then made into a trend.

Another example. Bindis. Now look, I have nothing against it and I'm not Hindu myself, it's just the idea of girls wearing them as an accessory. Perhaps no one gives a shit whether or not it stands as a fashion statement or a religious statement. But it's something to think about.

Rosary beads...now are they religious or do you wear them cos your boy Emz is rocking a glow in the dark one?

Different clothing brands also like to print Indian gods onto their garments as a means of looking hipster and cool. Now, there do you disagree or agree? 

I'm just waiting for the day that the queen rocks a diamond encrusted burqa, perhaps that'd stop me questioning semi-religious fashion statements. Who knows.

Do you ever step outside yourself

It's been 12 days and then it'll be 10 months.

I count days in my head because it's like my way of organising time. Distance is a feeling not just a noun. It's a period of time in which you release your energy in different ways.

When I become distant I don't express hatred because for me it's a period of freedom. But then comes a time when you sit. You sigh. You check your phone. Then wish to throw yourself into clear waters. 

My relationships with people..lol wut wait.  I only see it one way. If people want you, you'll know sooner than later. I don't do "later". 

Feelings grow yes. But it's the strength of feelings that matter. My feelings are nothing but strong which is why I find it hard to let all my energy out. At the moment my battery is recharging and I feel like a jack in the box, although I'm pushed inside and won't come out. I don't want to come out I've just had enough. Enough of spending time on people who you thought were honest. All I have given is honesty and in return I sit here writing a blog post about how I feel. 

Anyhow, Love and Hip Hop Atlanta awaits. 

It's Fathers Day

I loved this top as a five year old, I was a diva.

"You're dressed like a tramp" said Dad.
"Thanks, I get it from you" I replied.

Fathers Day.

See, I have never celebrated it. Not because that's a sign of hatred or self loathing, it's just I don't do it.
Even with Mothers Day. Yeah, the kids make a card and sign their names blah blah, but my names always absent.

I show my love for my mother in every situation that I can. Whether that be in appreciation for something, or helping her, or even talking to her with kind words. I think that's what means most to me. I value the little things not the big commercial present with a label attached and the price scribbled out. We all show our love/affection in our own ways.

Tough Love.

Have you heard of it? I believe everyone's relationship with their parents is personal. Extremely personal. Therefor nah, I won't tweet or instagram a happy family portrait to signify my love in a picture. What for? Likes? Comments? It's all a facade.

Perhaps you're reading this thinking "damn this is deep". Well yeah, of course it is?!

I can't wait to be a parent myself. It'll be that one chance to maybe hinder the experiences I have had, take the moments I've had, the things I have seen and felt towards my child. Towards bringing them up in this world in my way. To make them feel absolute happiness that I maybe crave for but fear.

Drawing a song!!!

This is my visual interpretation of a song called Forbidden Fruit by J.Cole. 

I produced it in a day with one BIC medium biro pen. Yes, it is very random isn't it. But I truly wanted to encapsulate the imagery in the song! 

So this is how my thought process bagan....

I first began drawing an outline of a tree, next I bagan to create swirls all of a sudden. Then I though *dang I hve to stick to this pattern*. Once the tree was drawn I thought *what the heck now?* 

My I-phone bagan to play "Simba" by J.Cole and then I thought... *wait wait...* 

And suddenly had the urge to draw the crown from his Born Sinner Album..soon after the Kanye glasses were drawn, then lips..juice...apples...Jesus peice...sperm...ovaries and the words "don't yell" and "K."

Of course, I'm not saying I have represented every lyric, however I did enjoy making it very much.

It's a total contrast to my original mark making technique, firstly I use pencils and secondly my use of line is to create a realistic piece. So, creating this illustration was a whole new ball game. 

Line here is created by avoiding touching other lines. The shapes are completely free form which reflects my mind as it becomes emersed in the song. (Sounds deep doesn't it?) well I think it is deep. 

After all that said and done, my next art peice shall be a side profile of a very good friend of mine. 

Stay tuned. 

Finishing my first year at uni

(Note: 23/05/2014)


Within the first year of uni, there were lots of expectations that I didn't think would come along with the experience.


I didn't think I would click with two friends I didn't think I would make friends as easily as I have. I didn't think I would build my wall of a career that doesn't really seem solid at the minute. I didn't think I would bump into people that may potentially be in the rest of my life. I didn't think I would be handling money the way I am now. I didn't think I would be laughing as hard or falling as hard as I have a few times within this year. I didn't think it would get so deep that I would shed a tear and I didn't think I would abandon people who actually meant something so strong.


As loud as I have been the entire year was so silent. In a sense that now, sitting on this burgundy leather sofa in Sainsbury’s I can hear everything getting louder. I can hear children crying, I can hear a middle age crisis but above all I can hear myself. I'm screaming "why” Why did I experience the things I have, and why to such an extent that I have grown so much. Not in height, but in my mind I feel so much wiser. I feel like the experience has made me tougher than ever before. I have lived away from my family, my own mother, the one woman who introduced me to the world. This world of terror. Absolute terror.


I don't write these thoughts down so that one day they can be published. I write them because I truly feel that my words speak louder than anything that I say. At times like this, I have spent so much time understanding, I have spent so much time listening, I have then contemplated 'doing' and well let's say this is my journey.


A chapter of my journey that is soaring through thick pages. The pages are getting heavier and I'm getting tired. I just hope that something comes along and motivates me. I have a fire but it's not bright enough. "Hell is hot and fire is proven" words of Kendrick Lamar.


Yeah well, I'm feeling the fire, so I guess I was born on Mars.

My motivation is going up and down

Okay time-out.

Let me just switch my phone off and think for a second.

I don't communicate well when I feel things getting on top of me. So I believe the best way to deliver my thoughts is to just write on here.

I have been through many applications and interviews lately, specifically within the journalism spectrum but I just have this feeling. Like, this feeling of not getting it. I don't care if you're rolling your eyes as you read this but I help the way I feel right now. Opportunities are endless, yeah..well so is disappointment. I mean, I know that's part of the journey to success. You're supposed to fail continuously until you reach that level of content. But, it's so much to handle. I have my mind set on just getting a position, somewhere, I don't give a bollocks if there's money or no money.

"I used to care about money until I realised money doesn't care about me." - Skepta

Yeah, I just read that on my twitter feed. It's so accurate for me right now.
I don't even know where I will be living next year.
I don't know where I want to go with my degree.
I don't know who's supporting me and who's not.

That's the confusion I feel right now.

I went for an interview yesterday and I was asked if I have a blog. I answered yes. Referring to my other blog which I use as a platform to showcase my work at university. Of course I know I should expand on it more. But, really? I am so indecisive. It takes time for my mind to settle for something.

Right now, I know I can't wright. I just know I can't. Even the people yesterday said my title ideas weren't so captivating yet the content sounds like it has potential.

Well...what the fuck does that mean. Just tell me i'm shit and i'll be gone with the wind. (fabulous).

My writing style isn't for the elite. It's just how I write. I write how I want to.
And if I feel incredibly passionate about something I write even better.

So what the heck. Lord knows where I am going with this right now. But I just want to get it right. I just want someone to finally realise "fuck, she's serious".

Notes

Imma shake the Can you open the seal and lip read?

Cos your track puts me on track as we race to the line

Open up the fastener promise you I'm fast enough

Marathon man can you pass me the baton?

Handle the pace of your heart that's a trip

Of Course and the rhythm got me lost

It's so a-Maze ing

Almost skating, no half pipe cos this is the full course

Of course, I have a sweet tooth, pass me the menu...

Man what am I doing?! When I have U

And be assured I'm not playing, this ain't no footsie

saying "you ain't my Man" U best believe in my words

And the feeling that was felt from the first time

Like a dear walks for the first time

Pain at pleasure was the procedure of our Rhyme 

Preparing for the passion in my imagination for next time

But don't get it twisted cos I'd dread to lose... you're mine.

Being online

I mean, these days we are constantly fixated with our phones, whether we have a notification or not, we will always try and force ourselves to post things whether that be on Shitter, Facebook, or SnapShat etc.

I don't mean to say this is a bad thing, of course it reflects that in our society today we are just simply boring people, we have the time to share what we are thinking, saying & doing all the time. But I don't see what is so revolutionary about that? Why is that a good thing. Like, say if I was really hungry why do I find myself tweeting 'I'm so hungry ffs'. Like, why is that normal? Another thing I never understood was... when people got into relationships...they would make it official on Facebook. Okay...but like...why? Does the online community really need to know? Has word to mouth expired or some shit?!

Back to what I was initially saying...I value the world, you know living without a frikin' phone in my hand. I like that I can be away from it and not have to care who's just Whatsapp'd me or whatever.

I am saying all these things whilst laughing in my head because I just think we have all gone insane. Before, if we wanted to catch up with someone we'd see them and then *boom* what you know...you start to converse and voilá. But being online is so shady ahahahahahaah. It's to the point where it's pathetic, like people truly start to take shit personally.

If you unfriend, unfollow, or block someone it reflects that you hate them...but nah, I just wanted to clean up my news feed "uno". And...just the concept of being able to indirect people. The online word is so free to expose, indirect, make shit go viral...take Mimi's sex tape for example...she's clearly missing her boo Stevie J, then "oh look" Joseline Hernandez floods instagram of her draped all over Stevie J.

It's just corruption, we're made to believe this is just getting with the crowd, fitting in...but like nah. I'd rather play snake for entertainment and write letters to contact people. Imagine that. But yeah anyway, this whole post was just for a rant's sake.

Of course I'll check my phone in due time. #Hypocrite

Asma's Room ft reflecting - Big Driis remix

If I said I am content with everything in life right now I'd be lying, so instead I shall say I think I am very aware of my desperation to bring some changes into my life.

It sounds dramatic, but I believe the changes will be dramatic and therefore I won't go back and change what I have just said. Enough waffling.

I came home for the Easter break as any normal person would do. Ofcourse I missed my family very much, considering moving to university means you reply on conversing with friends and total strangers most of the time. Being at home just means you can have that comfortable feeling again, that feeling where you can be lazy without feeling guilty. All my work is now complete, I just hope that I go back to some good grades in recognition of my hard work. I'm not even being cocky, it's the pure fact that I put my heart and soul into my work, whether that was a small feature or a 2,500 word count.

It's kinda hard to come home and just go on about university and the things that come with it. Firstly, the educative side then the social side and then the personal side. As a 19 year old, I feel a little more independent because you understand that not only are you more of an adult, you have to be wise with your energy. Nah, I'm not trying to say my knees are getting weaker but just on the whole I do feel like I am getting exhausted pretty quickly. Especially when you know fully well that you haven't settled anywhere yet.

Getting into university was amazing. It's just when you come home you realize there are still strings attached. You aren't away yet. Not at all. Basically being away from home is just a physical reminder that I am moving forward so the flip side is, being at home is a emotional reminder that I really ain't.

On that note, it's only wise to think positive. I have never said that in my life to be fair, I dislike the word 'positive' very much because it's like you're masquerading what you truly feel. So let me re-phrase. It's only wise to think realistically. 

This means keep myself busy and continue to build on the blocks that I can see before me.

*looks out the window and laughs*

It's just funny because I know exactly what I was doing this time last year and what an emotional waste. People say you can look back on your past and learn from your mistakes but I don't believe in that...I believe you don't learn...in fact you recognize. You recognize that you have changed. Changed for the better.

Idris Elba is now a father to Winston Elba who was born yesterday. Just thought i'd slip that in because it actually made me so happy. Like really happy...isn't that weird? Isn't it weird that someone who doesn't even know you can make you happy and they have no idea. haha.

If they are all rich, does that mean I am poor?

March

You know what, whether your name is Victoria Rose Smith or Shaniqua Glory we are all women at the end of the day.

I say this because I am just reflecting on my day you know. I attended an Asia House Fair which was held on New Cavendish Street in London. Okay, so this was actually to assist my friend Lauren who was documenting the event as part of her project. But see, that wasn't the issue because when I heard about it I was more than happy to go along.

The observing started as soon as we stepped foot into the place.

Okay first, yes the doors were thick Matt glass with golden embossed handles. As soon as you walk in you see a stall with prestige jewelry, then you just can't help but freeze as you notice the price tags screaming "£200". Anyhow, that wasn't the case either, because to be honest the place was beautiful. On your right there was a room converted into a café serving wine, wine and wine. So, as you would, we carried on walking to the next room, the door way inviting us to warm colours of browns and golds: this room represented textiles from Turkey.

Now..I am dressed in a jumper, black jeans and black trainers, Lauren was dressed in all black with a denim jacket. Our lipstick was fine, so what was the issue you ask? well...

You had Patricia on your right talking to Evangeline about her pin tucks, in front of you there was Geraldine talking to Rose about her wine and her collectibles of ceramic buttons at home. Johnathan and Henry were stood observing the paintwork of the golden staircase, Isabel was asked what she wanted from the stall of  hand made Kazakhstan scarves to which she replied "I like this one mummy" smiling and twirling without creasing her boots.

Yes, this was just entering a madhouse of elites because they had money to spend, I get it.

What I don't get is when I am told things about myself through the eyes and words of others. This is what I mean. So...I am conversing with a Japanese woman who is showcasing some hand made jewelry, very delicate and sophisticated. I decide to look at the most striking bracelet, a giant green stone was surrounded by chunky white stones and I was simply like 'dayumm' but she added "perhaps not your style".

Okay number one, you are judging by what I am wearing at that particular moment in time to suddenly know what my 'style' is. Two, was there any need? Three, why am I undermined like that?

Okay big deal, I honestly don't care, but I just wanted to add that.

Then, as I left the room a woman half my height, spectacles balancing on the tip of her nose with a full fringe bumped in to me. She looked up into my face like she was about to spit on me.

An Indian woman in a black striped suit, probably in her late 50's stood in crimson lipstick and her hair in a tight bun. We asked whether it was possible to interview her she simply tuned her back on us and said "no."

A lady behind a stall showcasing crafts from Kashmir, Sindh and India tried to tell me what India is. Do I look like I can't spell Geography? I just don't get why there was this attitude to automatically undermine us.

I will not lie, yes we stood out, not because we were walking around with a Cannon in our hands, but purely because we looked young, broke-"er" and clearly had "no idea" what these people were talking about.

Just because you can talk well, elaborate your vowels and wear cashmere doesn't mean you're more educated than me in any way. Yes, your daughter may be in private school right now, so what? Yes, your hair was cut at the salon and mine was simply brushed, so what? Yeah, I am not representing Cartier on my wrist but you are, so what? Money is a staple, the way it fuels power into people is crazy.

Elites turning their nose up at me is no bother, I don't give a crap that they have money to make it rain. I know that once I have money like that I will earn it, through means where I know I have worked hard. When I attended this even today, I looked around like..yeah but what do you do for yourself? Apart from inheritance where has the money come from? And more importantly is everything about you is money, do you still stand for anything without it?

Just this competing battle between the rich and poor is an ongoing issue. Rich people and poor people will forever shape society in one way or another. To think richer people hold more power is what sickens me, and to think poor people are powerless is just insane.

The experience was moving and empowering. You know what, it only made me want to prove people wrong even more. At the end of the day they don't know where you will be in 5 years time, your success is in your hands, not their words.

Burning desire to write a poem

He just wanna smoke and fuck, so I guess we both speak Hebrew

Now he talking my language, but would it work when I ain’t Jew?

Rents due late, and so’s your love when we come through,

In due time we’ll cash all these memories

Stack all these memories, in my mind bank full of sanity

But your back’s turned to face me,

Face screwed up, back stabbing, always injure me

Injuries that A&E can’t stitch up, see...

The threads getting thicker, my words are getting quicker,

The bloods just iron bars, pump fist I'm a prisoner

In this dark world, I walk but run to find cover

Under my cover, stand cover when my eyes close,

The only warmth was your hand and now it’s the fire that’s under me

Ash in my eyes, sting from the morgue

Where our past lays, ashes to ashes,

No dust to dust,

Cos the dust is in my lungs, I suffocate in the prison,

But the bars break-up like us,

Like me, like you, like what the fuck

Fuck feelings, flippin' weight on my sanity,

And your carcass rots as I run free. 

-Asma Qureshi

My relationship with time

I don't seem to find the time to write on my blog as frequently as I would want to, but I think that is purely because I am always busy doing other things. Also, my blog is mostly for reflection...nowadays I seem to forget to reflect.

Yes, I have faced a heavy work load over the past week and I sit to ponder, when will I find time to chill and make time for myself. Yeah I won't go on to bore you...in fact I just want to say...

I learn things everyday, it seems like I am making it up, but it's true. I experience things and when I do, I mentally take note. You know, at times we sacrifice our thought process for others, the people that we prioritize. I have always done it, maybe you have too. These people are the ones we choose to think about, isn't that weird? There's billions of people we meet on an everyday basis, people we exchange two words with or even those people who you have known for a lifetime, and suddenly they pop into your head.

It freaks us out sometimes. You then decide to carry on thinking about them, or you choose to block it out. I always pick the second option, not because I am selfish, but because I am careful. The mind is too powerful to think about someone. This is because personally, when I think, I then imagine and then I fight patience.

Reality dominates imagination. That's what kills me. No wonder my dreams are always realistic. I think it's because I don't allow myself to hallucinate 'what life would be like if...'  that thought is lethal.

One thing I do believe is that, your relationship with your time reflects you. I don't know how, and I can't explain why...I just totally believe in it. And for me I am punctual but patient. That is what I am. And with that said, I conclude by saying that...
                                                With time it'll turn out just great.

Affection and attention

Affection and attention.

If you could only choose one which one would it be?
What's more important to you, emotion or image?

You're constantly noticed for your looks, than asked how you're feeling.
And I don't mean the 'you good?' in fact I mean 'how was your day?'

Because I mean...can you remember the last person who complimented on your looks or the person who asked how you were?

Maybe you're thinking does it even matter?...I think it does.
Because it helps you answer that one question: What do you want?

And to be fair, I have never been asked that before and if I was asked that right now I know which one I'd go for. It would be affection, as attention is disposable. You reply 'thank you' and your ego grows an inch.

Affection builds, it grows and it's something real. It clears your mind, a bit like green tea. haha.
It makes you stronger. And it's pure.

Attention is addictive, the day you get 11+ likes on a Instagram picture, it only creates the expectation to get more likes next time. Poor example, but you know what I mean.

When you don't get affection you get lonely and you rely on attention.
When you don't get attention you're disappointed and it makes you angry.
But you try again and again to get attention so you end up with affection.

See...you seek attention to get affection.
You can't seek affection to get attention, because when you have affection you no longer need attention.

It's getting confusing now isn't it. Okay I'll just leave you with that. X

Why listening to Jhene Aiko made me think

Somehow I'm really connected to Jhene Aiko and I'm thinking about why.

Hmm, it's getting sunnier these days isn't it? I am sure the weather effects ones mood. Urgh, I should be getting on with so many tasks right now, I have an essay, two presentations, an evaluation and a review. The idea of writing within journalism is a daunting one, I like to talk...but putting speech into words is quite tricky. Like right now I am writing how I think...and the way I think is so random. The sentences that you have read so far don't connect at all, in fact if I gave this to my old English teacher she would re-boot her computer straight away.

Things are looking busy these days actually, and this isn't just work wise, just in general. Yeah, it's so obvious to say 'there aren't enough hours in the day' but that's not what I mean. I think there are enough hours..it's just the way you use them. At the minute I am using it wisely..but it's a slow process. I'm an immediate person when it comes to change...sometimes I prefer change to hit me like a brick wall, because that way I have no time to think about getting over it? You know what I mean.
 (ah shit I think I am going off in a tangent.)

But...you know what, I'm not going to re-write everything because to be honest that wouldn't be a true reflection of me. I don't go back and erase things..that's just weird. I like flaws because that's what makes you different. I mean if we were all perfect, there'd be no substance, and that would mean we all end up liking the same shit and hating the same shit. We'd become minions of conformity.

Yes. I got it. I think right now I am fixated on the idea of going out my way to 'do me'. That sounds crazy right? I'm bored of lefts and rights..I want to jump of the path and make my own because the path's too long and boring for me.

I don't know whether you can relate, but if so I just think concentrating on yourself should come first sometimes.

Okay, back to my chocolate digestives and my work. Bless.

I am TalkTalk you are Lebara

Perhaps this issue doesn't bother you, well this is something that certainly gets on my nerves. And I applaud you if you can relate...

Ever sat in a room, whether its a classroom, a social group, any group really where someone asks a question that you know the answer to...but you don't want to say it.

I'm a loud mofo, I will talk all day long, yet ironically I hate long phone calls...anyway..my point is..

these past few weeks I have tried the "let me be a little reserved" as I believe you should always experiment with yourself. And so, I decided to stay quiet a little, I didn't say shit in class. I simply looked around to see whether anyone actually talks. Nah, nope no one. Of course there's the occasional one or two people who are always answering the question (that gets on my tits), but on the whole..no one. No one. No one says shit.

Then I wonder why.. why why why, could it be they are shy...but you are here to study journalism..
could it be they know the answer but don't want to say anything because that would seem uncool...erm but if looking cool is prioritized over your study then that's a bit weird...
could it be they're hungover?...okay fair enough
scared of whether your answer is wrong?...who cares man, everyone else isn't right all the time,
language barrier?...well your arse is in England now so fix up
sore throat?...yeah right
want to let everyone else do the talking?...how will you let your self be heard then?
bored of this long list?...yeah so am I.

But see, I simply don't understand, I can't stand silence in a room full of people, that's just wrong. I mean I know of some people that are so vocal on Twitter and what have you...but when it comes to real life...your personality is dandruff.

That's all I wanted to address, other than that I have so much work on my shoulders right now, so till next time...peace out.

Drugs

Yeah I wish I was talking about Paracetamol too, but I'm not. Its this MD cocaine, stuff that goes into your brain, numbing you for that good 6 hours malarky. What bullshit.

Why is there the need to start, is it the buzz? or the kill? cos its only fun now, but what you gonna do when you're addicted. Yes, this drug craze has been around for ages, I'm not trying to say this is something new. But it's the fact that I am seeing it now...

It has only just become visible to me, at first I thought 'yeah people do drugs' however I didn't know it was so many of them. These days people are smoking or sniffing..what next injecting and selling? Who knows where you'll end up you know.

Yes, I get it, some of us will just do it on the rare occasion because that one mate is with you and you feel like it'd be silly to say 'no'. Fine. However the thing that scares me the most is when people become reliant.

You will no longer want a sober hour in your life, because that one hour you will have to face your troubles and you will have to feel stress. So...if you take the drug then all your problems gooo awayyyyy and your happpppy soooo happppy.

-quit tripping-

nah, it's a scare, a real scare, people are no longer satisfied with their life, depression will be the worlds no 1 disease and oh shit how will we cope?!

Fuck knows, but looks like everyone will be jumping on a drug soon. It's a shame.

Not ALL people...but like seriously is that how you value your life...the one thing you do own.

People have their reasons, but no reason should force you to put your health or life at risk. No reason.

Let me just rant for a bit

Don't underestimate me or assume that I now am something that i'm not. Shit man.
Why be like that, it takes time and patience to realise what you have..and usually you realise what you had till it's gone. Yeah if you click that you know.

Seriously, I can't be bothered, you make so much effort with people and they have the audacity to let you go. But...what if I'm gone tomorrow, what then? There's no time to hold shit in, what the hell do you have to lose. Do you have Drake's reputation, that maybe if you say how you feel you'll be laughed at. Please.

Balls were made for a reason. God said 'shit let me give you these so you can feel like a true man when your voice drops'. But nah, it's like you're just staring at your balls thinking they're going to feel themself. No life don't work like that. Everyday having to go through emotions is long. But we all do it, why hide. You saying how you feel is being human.

Shame if you can't do that though, cuh I ain't fucking with no one if you fuckin with me. Period.

It's 09.43am

Every time you think you are going right just know that there's a motherfucking left somewhere, ready to spit on your journey.

You're thinking, 'But is it that deep?' Well yeah? It is. There's no time to write five paragraphs on ways to guide you through self-help bullshit, so instead I'll just keep writing about situations where you can relate.

It seems as though you have made a friend who wants to get closer and closer, but really all you're thinking is "get out of here". 

You have a massive workload and you think you'd do it bit by bit, but you leave it to the last minute praying it'll sound good anyway.

You'll get that text after 56 days of staring at your phone and it will read 'I miss you', bitch are you kidding.

You soon realise maybe you are beginning to invest time in the wrong things, well then just change it?

BTW I ain't moaning about nothing, it's what I have seen around me that is making me agitated. Cannot stand being around pessimism, always negativity and people having to say shit about you. Keep talking though, I actually love it. I once (2012) walked past two people talking about me and I pretended I didn't hear a thing. Why pretend? There is no time to pretend about shit like that. Just simple rudeness is getting on my tata's, it's even more confusing when you're left in a place when you actually start to convince yourself 'maybe it's me?' get the fuck outta here, it ain't you. In a way, people who you associate yourself with, make you. 

"Focus on you." - I need this tattooed on me..like on my eyelids or something. 

Will Time Tell?

I wrote this in my notebook on the 9th of January and whatever motivated me to write it is probably the notion of life.

'In this generation there's too many games. 

Everyone is a player, playing their own game.. multi-player, single player, board game, interactive game you name it. 

Everyone is eager to start one then everyone is scared to finish it. 

No-one dares to finish the game because being a loser is no longer a threat.

The thing is we all want to win. 

But someone has got to lose and everyone is pretending they're winning.'

Confused? Yeah me too. I like it though, so regardless of your opinion, you have read it, thanks.

I made a "Sho" friend

Yeah so like, Leicester Square is a right sight, you can see everyone of all shapes and sizes there. I don't know why I just said that. Anyway, you know what I mean. The first thing I read was 'There is no darkness but ignorance.' I don't know why that is significant, but I made it sound like it would influence my day somehow. I tried to take a impressive i-phone quality picture of the statue, but the sun and a happy family next to me didn't allow me to do so.

Hmm yeah after doing about 7 360's, food and a few laughs...

Suppose you're in a park, its pitch black but the sky is looking a little pretty. The city lights are peeping through the swarm of trees protecting you, and well it's pretty much silent. Reached a cross road at one point, I learnt that three lefts make a right and was reminded how much fun it can be just having a conversation y'know. A conversation about Earth, just real grounded stuff. Yeah looking at the ducks..(whatever bird breed they were) was interesting, made the scenario into a crips and bloods scene. But you, as a reader are not cool enough to interpret such a normal sight into something so bowsy. Two officers then walked past and said that park gates were closed, yes! That once in a life time opportunity to climb over a gate y'know. I jumped shouting "yes". I don't know, maybe that's my inner child coming out.

Well that's me, always looking to have fun. But I suppose you're wondering where the hell is this post going? Let's just say...experiences shape who you are right? Sometimes you choose an experience and at other times the experience comes to you. lol I'm just chatting poo now which is slyly making some sense.

I think if I want to overcome one thing, it is to combat the hesitation of making a choice.

I just had to get this Ted Baker coat

Arriva Bus- 02.42pm:

So as I arrived at the bus stop there was a man eating a chicken and bacon sandwich, he asked me what the time was and I said 2.13, the bus was due in just over 10 minutes.

Great having to share breathing space with a man who likes to eat when he talks and cough without covering his mouth. Then I started doing my usual analyzing of my surroundings..I predicted a school boy would get off the bus stop opposite me and then take a trip to the chicken shop..and I was right, I smiled at my own little success. Anyway as I stared down the road, every single vehicle in the world approached.. a helicopter flew over even a JCB truck, but no bus. I then realized I was sighing every two minutes, no wonder the man kept staring at me. I am in the juggernaught of a bus right now, it is trembling my brain cells and I hope I have enough to last me hopping today. I need to find a black Parker coat with a fur hood, you have no idea how hard that is. I await a text from mevish as I was running so late. Was supposed to make CMK for half 2 and it is utterly half two. Oh dear, the curse of colour people time has got to me. The girl sat in front of me is wearing exactly what i need but hers is a chav version as I can smell Charlie Red and her roots are dyed red. Just checked whether I was sat in the disabled seats, I always have a habit of doing that, I don't intend to, I just feel like I need medical advice sometimes. Hahah how can I say that? Okay I am thirsty my throat is dry with tobacco residue that was dancing in the bus shelter. Yep just went past Maria's Fish Bar, nearly there, hopefully it shall be a blessed day. I just spotted a woman with reflective pink trainers. Okay now I pray hard that it's a good day. 

Home- 09.48pm: it was a good day! 

FAM-I (don't) Love You

"Let's go to your aunts" she said. "People visit family all the time Asma, that's what being a family is all about."

Okay. Hold the fuck up what.

Me, yes I am a family person...if that means to stay in your own household and act like a complete goon within the walls of my own flesh and blood. But if a 'family person' means having to visit other people...you know what I mean. That aunt who has 3 kids now. The uncle who recently wed that hoe. The cousin who is pregnant. The long one hour drive to that random woman, who saw you 10 years ago. That whole package, are you with me?

I stood at the glass stained door only to fear the smells that are about to cling onto my military coat. The stench threw itself on me as I entered the door. I look back to see my mum put a smile on (you know them happy family ones) and I was not going to smile back. Don't get me wrong, I like seeing family...if they care about you that is. If they remember your birthday and notice that you aren't at school anymore and that you are a grown adult. So I shook hands and french kissed all the women and greeted the children. The baby started crying as soon as I walked past it, so they made some next excuse like..."oh she's just getting to know you haha". Haha. No. Does it look like I have 'lets be friends' on my forehead? So I sat down, the TV was off (great nothing to look at) so I began to scan the walls and what they displayed on them. There were artificial flowers and paintings of idealic sceneries. Little stone birds perched on their mantle piece and a whiteboard with Arabic on it placed just behind. My aunt sat next to me and dropped the 'how are studies going?'...that one question that my parents don't really bother with. I answered with a smile and said they're alright and then outlined the basics of my course at university. She smiled with pride, that was humbling. From the corner of my eye the baby started making it's way towards me, I got up without a care and wanted to check out what the other walls looked like. lol.

On the plus the food was alright, but I just saw all these numbers rushing around me..all them calories and saturated fats just put me off. Played Ludo with one of the girls, yeah that was pleasant as it brought back memories of being 6 and playing board games all day long. Then I spotted some glitter gel pens, another leaf in the chapter of my younger days. I then starred at my siblings drawing, then all of a sudden I wanted to draw to, but then changed my mind and had a great urge to write a poem. It was called "No Broom in the Room"- the title is pretty self explanatory. Yeah the girls laughed whilst reading it. At last that feeling of naturally laughing seeped into my emotions and I laughed too. Hmm..then time passed, I look across the living room and my parents are now watching the news...politics. Yawn. Then I made my way to the front door and we left. My aunt said "Till next time...probably Easter yeah?" I nodded with a 'yeah' and she concluded with that heart warming "Take care."

This post doesn't really have much to say to be honest. But it's an emotion within me that I can hardly put into straight forward English, I mean right now I feel deceived and angry. You will frown and think "but why?" that's another question that I can't get across either. But somehow coming home and running into my room to write about it just takes a weight off. A weight that is made up of family tradition, neglect, unbalance, unfulfillment, vomit and claustrophobia.

I am encased in this cocoon of pretence, London is calling my name; I am not a celebrity but get me the fuck out of here!!!

[if you didn't get anything...don't worry you weren't meant to]