of eating pawpaws & writing on the blog

its been three years since my last pawpaw. i feel in love with one last sunday. inside a fiesta themed supermarket with jua kali barbabacue reminsicent of men clobbering metal under the hot sun.brown skinned folks looking for a bite or two.

its been three years since my last pawpaw.

today, my lover ate a pawpaw (papaya) for the first time. he doesn't like it. that to me, is very strange. especially for an island descendant. he thinks its mushy and goey. i for one cannot finish expounding the joys and beauty of this fruit. from its skin ( which is a great cleanser)..the berries that you can use as seeds..the absolute delicious insides..and the branches that give awesome shade.

today, my lover ate a pawpaw for the first time.

with each bite, my ( insydes) sides craved for more. for more sunlight and smiles with mama karanja. outside her kiosk wrapped up in a khanga making chapatis. the hour long lunches filled with laughter and ' nani ngombe na chapati.' i had with stringent purspose stopped dreaming of pawpaws. then mombasa mangoes. or maasai market..

with each bite, my in/sides still crave for me.

the blog no longer is mine. for my eyes or ears and stops of silent despair. ive become voyeuristic like that..the list on the left is indicitive of that..peeping through your spaces..other corners..please comment..does my pain remind you of yours. i began quite literally almost alone. with my synshine friend whispering words of encouragement. i was alone..swept away with grief rescued by words. years before rings of diasporic means..

the blog no longer is mine. for my eyes or ears and stops of silent despair.

Growth in wisdom may be exactly measured
by decrease in bitterness.-Friedrich Nietzsche