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Archive for November, 2010

Ghana and the story of the shoes

published on: 29.11.2010 in: All entries

We arrived well ahead of our clothes. I remember the dark, deserted streets, the non-paved sidewalks, a moon over shrublike trees, white plastic bags in their branches. There were only men in military uniform out there, at road blocks, holding machine guns. They didn’t raise their guns at our car, but they watched closely, hesitantly. [...]

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Some days

published on: 24.11.2010 in: All entries

I like some days. Some days means they are exceptional days. Means taking a long shower. Means coming late. Late to the plans. Late to the work. Late to the silencing of fear. Fear of silence. Fear of nothingness. Keep going, don’t stop. Not even when you’ve had enough. Keep going. Go. Follow the flow. The [...]

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Voice

published on: 21.11.2010 in: All entries

Sing to me, live, my dear. Say it loud and clear. Tell me that what you feel is not real. Is a fiction. A poem. A dance. A song. A place only I belong. To you means nothing not a thing. Touch me, my dear, feel me, see. You will not silence me.

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Rest

published on: 17.11.2010 in: All entries

An abstract composition of who she was. To have met someone. Twice, maybe three times. She was a powerful individual, a charismatic presence. Talented, and with that came the pain of a life led intensely. The hidden desire to simply be happy, one day. That day finally came as she met a man whom she [...]

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the wrinkles around her eyes

published on: 15.11.2010 in: All entries

The wrinkles around her eyes. I noticed those most. They told me a story of change. Of softening even though her features were still as strong as they had been back then. Her hair was only slightly less shiny. And she still looked amazing in a buttoned up man’s shirt. In fact, she looked cool. [...]

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scars around her nipple

published on: 12.11.2010 in: All entries

Everyone has had a 'friend who does everything better' at least once in their lives. Usually at school. I was best friends with such a person from age 8 to 11. Uniforms are meant to hide differences in what exactly? Because I guarantee you, our purple uniform did not neutralize the glaringly obvious fact that [...]

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The search for identity

published on: 09.11.2010 in: All entries

Hello Jaliya, Your email has touched me. I remember "Patty" very well. What her room looked like, and how we all lived together. For some reason I always remember one last image of her: I see her standing in the door of a somewhat sullen apartment building, close to an industrial territory? She waves but [...]

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Dear little boy

published on: 08.11.2010 in: All entries

Dear little boy. I announce, “we’ll tell your teacher we’re going to London.” I say it with excitement, as if it were my first time. As if I am your age and going to London is something grand and special. But you are putting on your shoes and don’t seem to hear it. You are [...]

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Once again she tries

published on: 05.11.2010 in: All entries

Look at them, the boys and girls, how they strut up on the stage and present projections of what they dream to be. Girls with back-combed hair, high heels, big earrings. Boys with leather jackets and sneakers. Chin up, twiddle the fingers around the microphone, make the gestures a rock-star would make with the free [...]

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