“How has mindful photography shifted your perspective in life?Wait!..
Let me rephrase,how has your view of life changed ever since you picked up the camera?”
If you squint really hard ,the shirt reads Every picture tells a story .
This question wasnât addressed to me, but it got me wondering. And for sure, not only did picking a camera shift my mentality, but It also allowed me to slow down .
The voices in my head grow silent. Through the lens, thereâs stillness.
Suddenly, the stories I once told through words,words because that was the only language I knew, as a girl who saw the world through books,
Now, I see the world through my lens.
I tell stories from what my eyes have seen, what my heart has felt. And the moment my heart and mind agree in unison, itâs time to click.
I’m in uni and my favourite colour is purple, I’m also friends with these girls and one of them had me so figured out and I didnt like it (maybe cause she had me take down my photos on Instagram when I found out she used my pictures to katia men )âŚ.so as we played this game I can’t remember but I think ni how well do you know so and so and she got it right my favourite color was purple besides most of my things were pulple but I insisted it was yellow and my favourite color changed to yellow for quite some time đđđ đđđlol and now I just love sunflowers.
My love I never have him all to myself, but I love when I’m with him and he gets excited… I’m a big fan of the circus but when my love tells a funny story, his face lights up and an ear-to-ear smile is revealed. My favorite thing about his funny stories? The little laughs that make his voice high-pitched kinda really twinkles my fancy.
listened to this jam yesterday , my eyes got teary and the pain resurfaced.
Have you ever thought of the effect you leave on people once you hurt them?Well, pain was so foreign to me before I met you. But now itâs something thatâs part of me.I have cried myself to sleep so many times. Prayed, even. I, who didnât know how to pray, could barely recite the Lordâs Prayer to the end.I was left with no one else but God and I. And if Iâm being honest, I wasnât happy with Him not one bit. I wanted Him to take away the pain because I didnât know what to do with it. I still donât.It breaks my heart Grieving a robot, lol. They warned us about robots, but they didnât tell us theyâd be breaking hearts.I guess I have to have tough skin.But no. You know why Iâm actually mad at God? The only time He finally let me love, I fell in love with one that wonât let me love him.A widow, but my love is alive I’m in lovee with a man with no emotions, and wonât even talk to me.
The early bird catches the wormâŚ.but not whenâŚ..
Itâs barely 6:30 a.m. and I’m awakened by a woman screaming. Btw it wasn’t just a scream ,this one sounded like 15 teenage girls wailing at once. Pure chaos.almost thought the neighboring school was on fire,
Anyway, thatâs beside the point.
The neighborhood pickpockets are on duty ,( wacha pia Mimi niamke nikajitume ) âŚYou might think you’re out to catch worms kumbe wewe ndio wormâŚ.. It’s still so sad that people can shamelessly steal in the morningâŚon a Sunday maybe hataalikuwa anaenda church,but thanks to her scream the boda guys were alert , I hope they catch him left the scene during the chaseâŚ. #hiiNairobikaarada
I didn’t receive my flowers by  the thorns but somehow I got my way to them, and I was hurt. Roses have thorns, yeah?
“Yako staki.” I remember turning down his proposal a while back. “Nicatch feelings alafuunikatae?” Weâve been through this before, and I didnât want to feel the pain again.
Not so many days later, I set my eyes on him, and I’m ready ready to get married and build a home with him. đđYou know that ‘Huyo’ song by Zaituni thats how he had me feeling.
“Machozi ntapanguza.” I willingly texted him . “Hio proposal yasemaje?” Did curiosity ever kill the cat?
“Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue,a silver sixpence in her shoe…”
Never did I think I would frame a relationship through a bridal rhyme ,but this one needs structure, not for containment but for reverence.
It was meant to be all play and fun , a game of zero expectations and shifting definitions. Always warm but never clear. He had a certain charm, sassiness, a quiet confidence, a high wall I couldnât get past. Oh, and his personality? We are too alike in the wrong ways and too distant in the right ones.
It felt like the first time I set foot at his , only this time, the air had shifted. My laughter felt faint.We still talked, but it was hollow. I struggled with not being too much. I didnât want to scare him away ,not again.
Time was never on our side either. It was always too late or too stretched . We all had places to be and things to do anyway.
I felt warm around him despite his cold nature. I loved him fearlessly, not thinking of what could happen if he was unable to love me back. I borrowed strength from people who told me love was patient.
Some days, I would see him, and my ribcage would want to break loose. How can a man I barely know cause me so much pain?
It was a constant battle between what I thought and what I felt. I could only think the worst of him ,he appeared to be whatâs considered a walking red flag ,but I still chose to love him.
My panic attacks grew sharper. I was afraid of losing what I didnât really have. Anxiety crawled on me day and night. I began to question my self-worth. I mourned a relationship that never had a proper beginning or even a name.
It could be me. I could have possibly brought my baggage with me ,habits from my previous relationship, insecurities I thought Iâd buried.
I really hoped for a day heâd borrow some of my love, wear it, feel it, then return it.
I still wish we weren’t so afraid of our emotions,and given love a try.
I want him to proudly and loudly choose to love me too. But I guess love doesnât always come back the way you expect it to.
“Why have you been in a bad mood lately ?” A friend ,that cares about my change of mood, asked me earlier last week ,and all I did was smile and said something about the weather being gloomy,I mean how was I supposed to tell her that I said goodbye to my forbidden lover?
Taboo,by PHY .Has been my most played song this last two weeks .
We’ve had this conversation before and I promised never to see him again,how will I tell her that I lied ,you can’t blame me, his touch is addictive and when I spot him from miles away my mind goes on a vacay,have tried to keep a distance but when it come to This man ,my decisions, like brushstrokes on the canvas of my life, are inspired by a fervent yearning, an insatiable hunger that defies reason and embraces the primal depths of desire.
How will I tell her that every time this Man looks into my eyes ,everything I stand for crumbles beneath the weight of my transgressions .She can’t get me . I have to keep it all to myself , I don’t expect her to understand how every time he moved a step closer the flickering flames within me unabatedly burnt consuming all my doubts and fears.
I wholly blame myself ,its my avaoidant attachment style ,I loved being with him only because I didn’t have to show affection he had his girlfriend for that,there’s a battle between my heart and my mind ,I thought I got this ,the whole time I played myself,how will I tell her that I’m sad about losing a man I should have avoided from the beginning? How will I let her know how , her wise words of advice didn’t really seat with me ,does she have to know that I let my desires forsake me?
No one has to know how I feel about him, I’ll seek solace in the melodies of music, I’ll let the melodies drown my sorrows. I can’t tell her how my heart aches at the thought of no longer being by his side, how i cherished every stolen moment we shared .
I have beautiful marks of regrets within me, for I always knew our time together would be short lived.I’m just happy, I experienced the depths of love and passion with him, even if it was bound by circumstances. He has left an indelible mark on my soul , and I will forever cherish the memories we created, holding onto the lessons and takeaways from our “love”. As I bid him farewell, I genuinely wish him the utmost happiness and fulfilment in his life’s journey.
If you were from my neighborhood, youâd automatically make it to the good neighbor list. Thereâs a man from across the street who shouts, âGood neighbor! Barcelona!â every night after his drinking escapades. Every time he’s home drunk , he greets everyone on his way  loudly, proudly, and with zero shame. And trust me, heâll be sure to point out that you are indeed a good neighbor.
When we first moved here, I found it a bit weird , like, why would a grown man go around screaming âgood neighborâ to just anyone? But if I remember correctly, there used to be a show on one of our local channels at that name. Maybe he loved Barcelona and the show so much that those are the two things that come to mind after a bottle or two.
I still consider him a good neighbor though. Despite the noise, heâs actually a great lad ,minds his own owns a cow and supplies milk to the rest of us at a fee, of course. I also get to borrow tools from him sometimes.