intimate conversation in bed.
[22:34] I hadn't intended for this blog to be anything but a diary of my journey into adulthood and discovering myself. It turns out that who I am is a highly emotionally, touchy-feely, black-girl-magic loving, twenty-something year old who loves beards, green tea and design. But besides this, I see myself as a storyteller too. I think people that have gone through a thing or two tend to be experts at sharing stories, I suppose it's how we 'cope' with things. I have a peace about where this blog is headed. I see it as a massive visual and verbal outlet, making space for only beautiful things and considered words. It's close to midnight, and I have work in the morning, but my fingers don't seem to be tired...I'm trying to stay up past my normal bed time, which is around to be 9pm. I'm 23 and it seems like the adult thing to do.
"I don't know how to tell other people's stories yet, and I'm not sure I want to"
Let us be painfully obvious here and call a goat a goat—we like the sound of our own voices. Well actually, the sound of my own voice irritates me after a good 9.2 minutes, but I do enjoy writing about things that concern myself; be it about race, gender, migration, religion or hair. [22:58] The conversation always come around to my personal experiences, because it's what I know best. I don't know how to tell other people's stories yet, and I'm not sure I want to. I think I'd rather give them the platform to tell their own stories.
Speaking of platforms, for my own sanity and peace of mind, I have to get out of Twitter, it's so destructive, and I find myself angry about so much everyday. Then I get stressed out because of what's happening on the other side of the world, and then I feel crap about feeling crap about feeling crap because I'm like 'oh well you have the privilege of feeling something, whereas their experience is a crappy reality'.
"I have to get out of Twitter, it's so destructive, and I find myself angry about so much everyday"
On an entirely different topic, I was invited to an Ann Summers event a few months ago, where all these sex therapists were talking about the female body and orgasms. It was interesting—if a bit much for me, since they were serving bucket-loads of champagne and my head was too light to be concentrating on anything serious, especially regarding my lower regions. They were coming out with a whole new range of sex toys (unreleased) so we all got a goody-bag to take home to test out. (I have yet to post a review on this blog, but I'm deciding if I should be kiddy-friendly or nah). In the goody-bag were two dildos with various vibration settings [Read: scary vibration settings], one of them had "bunny-ears" on them, and the other had a silver ribbed tip.
Then we also got a clitoris vibrator thingymahjiggy, and a penis ring with a vibrator, lastly, some lube, condoms, sweets and some "sex/mood-enhancing" chocolate. [23:40] I hate chocolate so much, but it was the only thing in the bag that didn't make me anxious or awry. Note: Sex-enhancing chocolate doesn't do anything, and it just tastes weird. I'm in two minds about these toys, they're perched on my bedroom cabinet, glaring at me, still in their respective boxes because I have no use for them, and I still have lots of questions.
It's 23:46 now, finna go sleep, I don't think I can hack this going to bed late thing, my eyes are droopy. See you in my next blog post guys!