By the end, the battlefield is silent.
The dice are gods. I am their chosen-Aynke, ruler of hotels and collector of debts.
Survivors plotting revenge and quietly weeping. My flatmate still won’t speak to me, and therapy may be needed.But I WON and victory never felt so sweet 😈😈
Monopoly isn’t a board game. It’s legalized emotional damage. 🎲
Every time families or friends play, someone surely cries, someone flips the board, and someone doesn’t get invited back next time.
The powerful become the tyrant. And by the powerful, I mean me. I’ve been stacking hotels like an empire. My flatmate is giving me the side-eye like I’m a war criminal. Therapy and trauma management may be required later but right now, I’m unstoppable.😌
I love the was my friend Dums loves- so unashamedly, loudly and she isn’t scared to let everyone know. For the last 110 days, she had made me count down to the day she is seeing her boyfriend. She’s just arrived the airport guys. I love love.
Today, a church acquaintance called and noticed I wasn’t my usual bubbly self. Without hesitation, she prayed me back into God’s presence. I’d been struggling to pray for days, but she quietly held my hand, led me to Him, and left me there. Grateful for people like this.
And when I rock my fro? A simple ‘Nice hairstyle’ would suffice. Why the need to ask, ‘Can I touch it?’ Do I touch your hair? Also, stop with the fake admiration: ‘I wish I had your kinky hair.’ No, you don’t. Let’s exchange if you mean it. Exactly. Nonsense😤
As a Black person in a western state, changing my hairstyle shouldn’t come with a Q&A session.
No, Karen, I didn’t ‘grow it overnight.’ We’re in the age of Google—surely you’ve heard of wigs, extensions, or clip-ins by now. Dear non-Black folks, it’s giving shade, not curiosity.
I’ve noticed that the darker the season, the harder it is to pray. It’s like the weight of life tries to silence the very cries that could bring relief. But maybe that’s when prayer matters most—when it feels impossible.
Feels like yesterday, I was sixteen, dreaming of 'someday' as if it were far away, believing my whole life was still ahead. But time moves quietly, slipping by without warning. Then it dawns, ‘someday’ is suddenly today, passing by in moments I barely noticed.
That ‘someday’ has become ‘today,’ and without warning, ‘today’ fades into ‘yesterday.’ The future once dreamed of is now the life you’re living, shaped by all the choices you did or didn’t make. And you come to understand that life is less about what you planned for someday
For the longest time black has always been my everyday color. I didn’t know it was a problem until my aunt asked “kilode to Shen fasho dudu bora”.
That was when I noticed I had a black duvet🌚😂😂