Young Adult

We were minds of timid curiosity Touching, prodding, slowly patting If it bites, jump back but it must be okay if it doesn’t. Overly imaginative, a little crazy and very stupid But I guess it’s all the same It was celebrated Or met with a slap on the wrist To cause a bruise that healed…

I think I Get Art Now

Last summer a few friends and I had this thing where we got together once a week to talk about weird stuff like conspiracy theories, how the sun will die, Angles, Satanism and…. you get the drift. It was a lot of fun. I kinda wish I could get that group back together again…. Anyways…

Introvert Problems!….But I Don’t Know That I am an Introvert.

Don’t be Weird! Don’t be Weird! Don’t be Weird! Don’t be Weird! Don’t be Weird! I have days sometimes where I am so content and everything seems to make sense but even if it doesn’t, I find a way to be okay with the not making sense because I’m too busy being content and satisfied…

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 traffic is like, Addis sizzles…

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 that I actually get paid……in…

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 around and you can hear…

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 or how someone else was…

I’m Writing About Purpose and Shit Again

*Note: I’ve had like eight large cups of coffee in the last three hours.  I feel like picking up heavy stuff and running. It’s a miracle I’m not dead.  Feel free not to take me seriously.   Let’s begin. I don’t understand the point of wrapping gifts. Like what the hell is the point? Why…