It has taken me 6 months to begin writing this and now more than ever I stop giving a hang to AA Gill’s words, “Never write with a view, face a blank wall, the world is a distraction”. I have had the hankering to speak to you each day these two months. To see Nzisa comment pop up within the first hours of me posting. I appreciate it. Don will whatsapp me relentlessly demanding that I post or our friendship will go to the dogs. Here’s what, threats work. Judy is always on the verge of sending me an inbox. Mercie, Ruby, Kent, Nyela, Evans, Kamau Wanyoike, Tabitha, Mugendi, Shem, Grace, Nadia, Anna and all those other ghost readers, Happy New Year. What I’m trying to say is, I missed you and for that reason, this post is longer than average. Now that we are done with the touchy-feely, let’s move on, ey?
I love words and music that strike a chord. Music whose grandeur cups the side of my face with its smooth palm. Because, this is how I like to be touched.
Letters that dance and form words.
Words that rhyme.
Words that make disfranchisement sound like sun.
And now Paris is doing the same. Paris is male. He is a man who can get it.