What Writers Do

It’s been about a month since I’ve come back to Addis. People ask me if I miss Mekelle. I only think about Mekelle when I’m thinking about how much I don’t want to go back. Even though I nearly died a few times because I’ve somehow managed to forget what …

I Don’t Have a Title

This article I am about to share was written about two years ago. I wrote it for Student Ethiopia but my editor who was also my sorta friend thought it was a little deep in the politics so she never published it. The best thing about working for myself is …

I am Not a Poet

This is not a poem.I promise you I am not a poet.This is sometimes the way I talk.And it if kinda rhymes,it is by accident.Coincidence. I hear poets feel a lot,See a lotHear a lotBecause they pay attention.I pay attention.How can I not?How can you not?When hearts are breaking all …

Like Everybody Else 

I like my blog. I like that I get to write some of the things I’ve been wrong about but have learned from. If you’ve even noticed, there’s a certain theme to some of my posts where my ideas are just usually me realizing how wrong I was about something …

Religion

I learned today that most of us think of ourselves as good people and it made me wonder what the hell gave us such an idea. After much spacing out during conversations and looking out windows, I thought that it might be because each of us have different ideas of …

The “I don’t care” problem

Caring hurts. Things are more often than not, going to go sideways for us. Dulling out the feeling of concern and interest tends to provide a certain insulation to being hurt but we are not vampires in the sense that Damon and Stephen Salvatore are. We can’t just turn it …

About Journaling

I was sitting at a café balcony doodling in a notebook the other day. This kid I know passing by sees me and comes over to say hello. He glimpses my notebook and says, “What are you doing out here? Writing in your diary?” Then he doubles over laughing like …

Peripheral

  There was once a time when people fell in love because they thought they were good judges of character. A man would catch a fleeting glance of woman’s lustrous hair and her shiny red lips across a room and be convinced that she was beautiful and she would make …