Browsing Tag





For the most part, we seem to only be interested in the voices of the famous and distinguished, because apparently “fame” and “status” is what makes someone worthy of being heard. There may be some truth to this. Those kinds of people have experiences that deviate from the ordinary and there is a lot to be learnt from the unordinary. Nevertheless, everyday people; the ones that don’t live in the limelight, they have voices of value too.

Based on the above train of thought, I have decided to begin a series on this blog called Human. It will showcase prominent people in my life, their stories and the essence of their humanity. Gradually it will also assemble a puzzle of who I associate myself with, and how those people determine who I am.

To kick things off, I interviewed my boyfriend of 3 years; Daniel. I asked him who he was, to which he replied “Daniel”. Now I know that answer is simple in form, but when you know him like I do, you understand the intricacy of the reply. He is the kind of person that needs to be pushed to consider himself. He lives for others and as a barber and textiles student, he makes for others. Naturally, any interview pertaining to himself was going to require a lot of work. I got there though… I always do.

“I’m a creative person, and one that uses their hands more than their mind. One day I would love to have my own textiles label.”

The truth of it is that one day he will have his own fashion label. He’s 21 years old and is already a qualified barber and clothing store manager. Whatever co-ordinates he enters into his being, he manifests them, and I have no doubt that he will soon make himself known in the world of textiles.

“I like to be able to create something from nothing and that’s what textiles is. I can create materials and from there they can be made into something else, but what I made will always be a part of it.”

This led us down the tangent of legacies, of what he is going to leave behind in this world.

“I don’t want my name to be a forever type of thing. When you’re not there, your name could come to mean something else and I don’t want that.”

Another testament to who he is. Yes, he wants to spend his life creating and yes, he most likely will, but the pleasure he takes from it will never be rooted in selfishness. He wants to create simply for the joy of creating and the quality of his work will always mean more to him than the popularity of his name. I guess, whether I realised it before I not, that’s kind of why I fell in love with him.

Probably the most important question of the interview was, if you had to live your life as something else, whether it be an object or animal, what would it be?

“Well I would probably want to be a living thing, not like a chair or a phone.” He laughed.

Did I mention that he’s British? You can tell by his humour.

“You could be a tree but that’s very stationary and stuck in the ground and you could be a lion but that’s a lot of effort… So I would probably be a meerkat.”

Why a meerkat?

“Because they’re fun.”

So there you have it, a snapshot of Daniel. No he isn’t a movie star and no he isn’t a famous musician, but he’s human and in that humanity, there is a story worth sharing.


Yes, I Want to Be a Teacher


Are you shook? Most people are when I tell them I want to be a teacher. In fact, they protest the very thought and insist that I pursue another career path.

“There’s no money in teaching.”

“You won’t last long.”

“Aim higher.”

Fuck you. Fuck each and every one of you who conjure such words with your mouth and force them upon me. I sincerely apologise for my inability to align myself with what you deem as worthy, but in saying that, I do not apologise at all. I want to be a teacher and if that unsettles you, then so be it. However, if you would like to open your mind for perhaps the first time in your life, then keep reading.

I’ve always been a little school obsessed. It may have verged on unhealthy, but I had to have the best grades and I wouldn’t let anything stop me. That was until something did. In year 10 English class, that’s sixth grade for you American folk, we were given the task to produce a piece of creative writing.

I had never been much of a creative writer. It required me to see things as more than they are and for some reason, I couldn’t. Nevertheless, I wrote a story, god only knows what about, and presented it to my teacher.

“It all seems very forced and I can’t find your voice. I think you know this isn’t as good as your usual work. Give it another go.”

It was the first time I had been truly critiqued and so naturally, I lost it. I read every tutorial I could find on creative writing, I wrote with a thesaurus wide open and I tried so desperately to channel my inner J.K. Rowling. A week later, I handed in another story.

“Again, it’s too forced. I don’t even know what half of these words mean and I’m pretty sure you don’t either. You’re overthinking this. You need to write about something you can feel, not about something you think you can feel.”

If I hadn’t lost it the first time, I had lost it now. In fact, I actually cried. What I thought was my saving grace was not, and now I had nothing to save me. I retreated into an empty classroom and sat against a wall, hoping it would taste my tears and chew me up. Although it never did, something else finally bit into my flesh and demanded acknowledgement.

After years of denial, my Dad’s suicide possessed me. Without my teacher, I don’t think it ever would’ve happened. I took a pen and paper from my bag and let his death write its truth. An hour passed, a single hour, and I was done. Still trembling, I typed it into an email and sent it away.

The next day after class, my teacher asked me to stay behind. She told me of how my words climbed into her head and screamed at her heart. A friend of hers and killed themselves a couple of weeks ago, and in my story she found her pain. She hugged me, thanked me and gave me purpose.

Ever since then, I have written with my soul on my sleeve.

What she did for me is what I want to do for others. I want to take their humanity, no matter what state it’s in, and nurture and accept it. I am not naive in this desire. I know that some students will torment me, hate me, ignore me and whatever else, but I also know that such behaviour is not without reason. There is a reason for their pain and although I cannot cure it, I can teach with words how to live alongside it.



bleach horror short story

Chapter One

Thursday afternoons are my favourite afternoons. I push my key into the door, discover only silence and then bask in it. To be honest, the reality is a little less graceful than that but still, on afternoons like this, I am the King and Luke is free. We stumble into the house, drop our disguises and open our mouths to the sweet, sweet taste of Captain Crunch. As our stomachs begin to pity us, the television gives its performance. Maybe Batman is on, maybe SpongeBob is on or maybe even Thomas the Tank Engine is on… no matter the show, we watch. Luke watches because it makes him happy and I watch because it makes him happy.

The beginning of the news is our warning. He soon bashes on the door, expecting it to bow down but everyone knows that it only does that on special occasions. I pick myself up from the big armchair, his armchair, and pace towards the entrance of my Kingdom. As soon as I twist that handle though, it is no longer my kingdom. Continue Reading


‘RuPaul’s Drag Race’ Is Truly Iconic

rupaul's drag race

I may be a full time student with a part time job, an internship, a house to keep clean and a relationship to maintain, but RuPaul’s Drag Race has taught me that I am a magician; I can make time to watch this show, even when I have none. In fact, my boyfriend and I have managed to watch two seasons in one week. If that ain’t magic, then I don’t know what is.

Firstly, let’s begin with the legend that is RuPaul. He has revolutionised the Drag scene and continues to be one of the most influential figures in the LGBT community. More than that, he is an advocate for equality in all contexts and challenges the status quo by presenting identity as fluid, not fixed. Also, did I mention that he defies beauty both in an out of drag? Continue Reading


I’m Not Gay, I’m Pansexual


This minor detail may not be important to a lot of you, but it’s important to me; I’m not gay. Ever since I started a relationship with my current boyfriend of three years, I was automatically assumed to be gay. At first I just dealt with it because the ‘gay’ label seemed a little more accurate than the ‘straight’ label. However, as time went on, I began to despise the label that I had so foolishly accepted as my own. Continue Reading

Literature Thoughts

The Strangest Thing Happened Today

the strangest thing

The strangest thing happened today I encountered myself. I have been walking the earth for twenty years but I have never been able to see whom is doing that walking. Today I saw. I attended a university class named ‘Creative Writing: Voices’ and was forced to look upon my soul in all of its glory, in all of its distain.

I consider the act of writing to be innate. It is more than part of my existence, it is the reason for my existence. Weaving words together is a thoughtless task, one that I would compare to breathing. You don’t calculate the way in which you breathe, you simply breathe and I don’t calculate the way in which I write, I simply write. That is how it has always been and the child within me thought that is how it would always be. That child was wrong. Continue Reading


Everything Wrong with the Revival of America’s Next Top Model

america's next top model

For the purpose of this article, I am going to have to subscribe to the stereotypes of homosexuality and declare my love for America’s Next Top Model. That being said, I am still ready to drag the show’s revival harder than Donald Trump gets dragged.

For those of you who weren’t made aware, Tyra Banks officially declared the end of the show in October of 2015. She believed it had come to its end and stated that cycle 22 would be the last. Following that announcement, all hell broke loose and we experienced the end of the world. Okay, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration but people were genuinely upset… I sure was.  Continue Reading


‘Please Like Me’: A Television Show Worthy of Obsession

please like me

Even with the most acclaimed of television shows, I am still able to keep my composure. Not even Game of Thrones was able to take my soul hostage until I finished each and every episode. I had control… I usually always have control. That was until ‘Please Like Me’. After subjecting myself to the ingenuity of the pilot episode, I subsequently finished all four seasons in a matter of days. Continue Reading


Gay, Bald & Ginger

gay, bald & ginger

“You look like a giraffe”, “gay bald ginger”, “Damn your foreheads gigantic.”

That is a mere goody-bag of what is said about me on the internet. The reality is, people don’t like me. I am in a homosexual relationship, I have an abnormally large forehead, my voice is high, I have freckles and I openly share my opinions. Those attributes come together to create difference and even though we are living in a progressive era, those who are different are still crucified… I am crucified.

This article does not contain a cure. I am unsure of how to open the minds of the ignorant and fill them with the knowledge that we are all collectively human. I wish I could do that but the history of this world has taught me that no matter how hard you try, some people will always be left unconvinced. On that basis, I only want to share with you what I am sure of; myself. Continue Reading


How Do People Write Books?

I want to know. In fact, I need to know. How does one dedicate their entirety to writing a book? How do they sit their for hours and hours, consumed by the words that bleed from their pens? How do they sacrifice a significant period of time for a story that may not be good enough? These are the questions that have kept me from sleep. I just don’t understand. How do people do it?

I know that I am a writer. It is one of the very few things that I am sure of. I pick up a pen or rest my fingers against keyboard, and the pain within me finds refuge. It still very much exists but I begin to understand its existence and that is enough to keep me writing forever.  Continue Reading