Why There Is No Manual For Life…

No one can ever write a manual for how to live, simply because we experience the same thing in so many different ways. I have been looking for a simple description of a feeling for the past few hours, only to come to the conclusion that maybe I am the only person in the world who experiences this the way I do. I am searching for a name for something that I will never be able to find, not because it doesn’t exist, but because I am the one who has found it.

I wonder what it’s like for other people to live. What do they see? How does the world look to them?  To me, I constantly feel as if I’m inside a bubble watching the world go on around me, wanting to reach out and touch but not able to, wanting to live but not sure how. It’s as if I’m not really alive, but a spectator, yet my actions are still on display because they have the propensity to hurt someone else. I suppose the first step to living is popping the bubble, but I’m pretty sure it’s made of some extraterrestrial material that’s impossible to crack.

I always knew that everyone was unique, and all that hoo-rah, but it never occurred to me that we could experience the same exact emotions in entirely different ways. At the core, since we are all human, we all have the same basic human needs and emotions, so I had always thought that the same way sadness feels to me it’s gonna feel to someone else. When you hear someone talk about a feeling they have and you go “Wow! That’s EXACTLY how I felt”, it’s amazing at the silent community that goes on behind the closed eyes of our feelings, and we feel as if someone can actually relate to us. But because we each see the world so uniquely, even while someone else’s description may be that we’re thinking at the time, we all experience it in entirely different ways.

In seeking self-actualization and fulfillment therefore, we cannot base out lives on someone else’s experiences. We can draw inspiration from others, but we cannot say that because this person overcame this by doing that, or because such person has such a happy life, let’s try doing these things to have one too. Because everyone is experiencing every moment in a completely different way from we are.

I have always had a problem with communication, and I believe it is because even though I know that everyone is different, I have never been able to fully grasp the concept that other people aren’t experiencing the world the way I am. It’s like looking through a pair of binoculars. We are all seeing the same thing, but if you are beside me looking from a different angle, you have a different plane of view. And that to me is hard to accept, because I will never be able to see everything the way someone else does, and it is hard for us to look through one another’s binoculars. The most important part of communicating, living, and understanding, is realizing that we are blind to a lot of things that other’s aren’t, and making our decisions without these pockets of vision.

(Thought: Creativity flows from that dark place where we cannot find ourselves so instead we attempt to manifest it in our work.)

It’s Time to Grow Up

So you probably wouldn’t expect to hear this from me, the eternal 6 year old who is the champion of being young forever. And I still am. But at some point, we as young people need to grow up. It doesn’t mean we must lose our youth.

Like everyone else, being only nineteen, I’ve made a lot of stupid decisions. A lot of them I attribute to youth and inexperience. No matter how intelligent you might like to think you are, you’re going to make stupid mistakes, because you’re young and you don’t always know better. Sometimes you know better, but you’re still going to do stupid things, because that’s just the way life goes.

Many people have called me immature because I still sleep with a princess blanket and watch animated movies, and behave like a 5 year old when I want to. Many people have called me immature because I might get up one day and put a ribbon in my hair, or I might sit on the ground colouring, or I might still jump in a bounce-about, or I might walk into a store and really really really really want a squeaky stuffed toy.

Frankly I don’t care. If those are the things that make me immature then so be it. But these same people, yes all YOU PEOPLE!, might want to take a look into yourself. Are you mature because you’re now finished high school and you’re driving a car and going to parties and having a ton of sex, or are you mature because you are making something of your life?

For some of you, it’s time to grow the fuck up.

Growing up comes with taking responsibility for yourself. You have to realize that you’re no longer a kid, and if your life is going down the drain, then you’re the one that’s responsible to grab it and pull it out. It’s up to you to figure out what you want, set your goals, figure out how you’re going to reach them, and then doing it. I’m not preaching that everyone must go to university and get a degree and sit in an office the rest of their lives, but you have to figure out what you want to do, and how you’re going to do it. You want all the money in the world? For what? For your giant house, or for your children’s education? For your 6 cars, or for sensible long-term investments?

Growing up comes with taking responsibility for your body. Oh, so you’re grown now? You gonna have sex and drink and smoke and have a grand time? Throwing yourself at everything on legs because you’re young is immature. This whole concept of You Only Live Once is immature. It’s time to grow the fuck up. Be responsible about your sex life, be responsible about your choices. By all means, go out and party and get drunk and live like you’re young. YOU ARE YOUNG. But don’t make stupid choices that you’re going to regret. Have some self-respect, and have some sense of self-preservation. Growing up and being mature means you have to think past tonight. How is this choice going to affect me tomorrow? How am I going to deal with it? Am I being stupid or am I being mature?

Growing up comes with taking responsibility for your thoughts. It means thinking for your damn self. So you’ve been told something for 20 years. Are you going to continue to live your life by it just because it’s all you’ve heard? Maturity is educating yourself, reasoning things out for yourself. It isn’t just going with the crowd, or with society blindly because “that’s what everyone else says”. How many of your opinions are shaped by someone else’s influence? When you really think about it, how many of your beliefs did you come about with on your own? Growing up means accepting that there are different kinds of people in the world. Growing up means that you might not like everyone or everything, and you might not agree with everyone or everything, but you are mature enough to tolerate and deal with everyone and everything.

Growing up comes with taking responsibility for your future. How are you helping to shape your personal future, the future of your family, your country, your world? How much do you know about the changes that are happening so quickly in the world around you? How do you plan to respond to and deal with these changes? How are all these things going to impact you, and how can you make them better? What difference are you going to make? How are you going to benefit yourself and your country? How are you going to be a positive force in the world? Or are you just here to take up space and breathe some of the air, and then die without having really done anything? What small contribution can you make to make something somewhere better, not just yourself? It’s time to grow the fuck up.

Growing up comes with taking responsibility for your mistakes. You’re going to fuck up, but maturity is learning from your mistakes and not making them again. It’s about fixing the shitty situations you have caused. Bad things are going to happen, and being immature means that you’re just not going to deal with them. At some point you’re going to have to go through tough shit, and you’re too old to cry like a baby and hope it all goes away. You have to be responsible enough to get through every obstacle that life throws in your way.

So call me immature. Call me a baby, call me stupid, call me whatever you like, because I am mature enough to not care. You think you’re so grown? Look at yourself, and tell me how much responsibility are you taking in your life? How mature are you being about your decisions? Because I’d rather be a stupid 6 year old with a future, than an “all-grown-up” 25 year old going absolutely nowhere.

Grow the fuck up.




Why We Are Dangerous

Ok so this is poem #3 titled “Danger” (or the longer title “It is a dangerous thing to be a woman”)

It’s a short poem about female sexuality basically and the power we can wield as females. It’s a bit sexual obviously, but I do hope you enjoy. I like it though, I’m just not that confident in my spoken words skills, especially with this one. I think the delivery was pretty terrible.

Nonetheless, feedback is always welcome.


Do stay awesome.


Lol I almost forgot to post the link:

“It is a dangerous thing to be a woman”


I’m singing the blues



As a writer, my biggest obstacle has always been inspiration. Although every day I can find something to spark my interest, it is often difficult for me to put this to paper. This leads to my sporadic blogging and writing, sometimes getting struck by a newfound zeal to write for a few weeks, and then getting caught up in life, and feeling as if there’s nothing happening worth putting in words. To me, writing is an art, and writing just for the sake of writing depletes the magic associated with it. The same way it is impossible for a painter to rush a portrait, he must do it at his own speed, it is impossible to extract true passionate writing from me under pressure.

My second obstacle has always been feeling inadequate. I might write a piece I think is extremely powerful, and the feedback I get from it completely demotivates me. I’ve always felt a lack of support from people who are very important to me when it comes to my writing; some of my closest friends don’t even know the name of my blog. Yet how do I try to show them how important writing is to me if they are simply not interested? If they don’t care enough about my interests to read themselves, then I don’t feel motivated to show them…I simply give up.

I have problems with praise. It is much easier for me to deal with  criticism on my writing than to get a “like” on Facebook, or to hear “I like it.” To me, it doesn’t seem sincere. I’m not saying it isn’t, but my first thought is going to be that they’re just saying that to be polite, or so that I don’t feel bad. I suppose I expect the same excitement from people as they would give about something else they really loved. When someone reads something they find interesting, they tell others about it, they share it on Facebook, they pop up in your chat and say “guess what I just read”. But that doesn’t happen with my writing, and I end up feeling much more inadequate than I did before. This usually makes me just stop writing for a while, and try to explore some other interest that I might be better at.

I suppose I’m not a “writer”. I’m not good enough to be considered that yet, although I would love to. Instead, I’m just a girl who writes poems, and stories, and blogs occasionally. As much as this is my heartbeat, as much as this is immensely important to me, I don’t have the skills to make this anything more than a hobby. I don’t have the potential to make my passion into anything, and that is something that has always hurt me. So I do try.

A sightly sad post tonight, because I’m feeling slightly sad about all this. Do stay awesome if you are reading.

One Love: Jamaican Blogger Tag

Soooooooo Brady made me stop being lazy… Idk who the hell I going tag though but I suppose by the end of the post I should figure it out? Or no?

“A Blogger Tag is a game (so to speak) where Bloggers of all niches endeavours to form links, possibly discover new information and new Bloggers and have fun while doing so. It starts with one blogger (in this case, me) who chooses the topic of the Tag and then gives a list of questions or one general question which is wide enough to have its answer broken down into list form. After the first blogger answers said question(s), he or she will “tag” other Bloggers to continue the tag.”

The rules for this tag:

· Title your post “One Love: Jamaican Blogger Tag”
· Link back to the blogger who tagged you ( you may add a brief definition of what a tag is if you for the benefit of your readers)
· Copy and paste the rules at the beginning of your tag.
· Copy and paste the questions as well so readers know what’s going on.
· Answer the questions (No duh! )
· Tag seven other Jamaican Bloggers to continue the trend. Kinda forces you to make friends, no?

The questions are as follows:

1) Why did you give your blog its name? (If it is named directly after you, try and make your answer interesting. eg: Did you feel nervous at all about putting your name out there? Did you just lack creativity at the time?)  Well straight and plain my boyfriend named my blog. I was making this blog and I asked him what I should name it, and for some strange reason he said “Monotone Skittle” so I stuck with it. 

2) Why did you start blogging and why do you blog now?  Simple answer to both, because I love to write. 

3) Do you think being Jamaican influences your blogging style?  Not really, since my posts aren’t specifically Jamaican-oriented. I supposed though, being Jamaican gives me a point of view unique to my country. 

4) What do you think about the increase in Bloggers in Jamaica?  I think blogging has thankfully gone from being stigmatised…however it’s kind of become too much of a fad/trend. There’s no passion behind some of the new blogs around; blogging has just become a cool thing to do instead of retaining some of the art it once had. 

5) What is your favourite thing about being Jamaican? Ok there are a lot of things I HATE about being Jamaican, but they’re also so many things I LOVE about being Jamaica. Most importantly, I love how diverse and pervasive our culture is, how it can be recognized anywhere around the world as being Jamaican; the way our culture, especially our music, has infiltrated the rest of the world is amazing, considering we’re just a tiny little island in the middle of the Caribbean, and the way people try to emulate and replicate our culture is mind-boggling. That’s the thing that makes me proud, when I’m watching a European show and I hear reggae music in the background, or when I hear an actor trying hard to imitate our accent and saying stupid things like “Irie Mon”, or when I see the response we get at the Olympics…

6) Ackee and salt-fish or “ (mackerel) run down”? None of the above? I’m sorry I really don’t like ackee or run down. Bite me. 

7) Stew peas or stew chicken? Stew Peas. Stew Peas. With spinners and pigtail. Stew Peas. Need I repeat? Stew Peas. 

8) Tastee Patties, Juici Beef Patties or Mother’s? Juici Beef

9) Pantucky or KFC? I plead the 5th

10) What do you hope to be the future of blogging in Jamaica? I do hope that blogging continues to increase the way that it has, and that more opportunities are provided for the bloggers, whether it be community, encouragement, help, motivation or whatever the case may be. I do hope that the art of blogging doesn’t get lost though, no matter the type of blog, whether it be music, entertainment, product centered, technology, vlog, or anything else, the most important thing about blogging to me is expressing YOURSELF how you choose, and that, to me, is an art. I hope that Jamaica as a country can also become more open-minded and a more encouraging place for people to express themselves without fear, and that we can learn to be less judgemental and more objective, so probably more people can be encouraged to blog too. 


Anyway back to this tagging thing, I really have no idea who to tag, since I’m not very active in the blog “community”

So I will big up Brady from  http://theincompleteid10t.blogspot.com since he was the one who tagged me in the first place.

Now then, on to the tagging:

Aundra from keystomykarma.com

Ryan from ryanmattis.wordpress.com

Gordon from gordonswaby.com (if he’s not too busy of course)

Chereese from idendefy.blogspot.com


I broke the rules omg. I didn’t tag seven -_-

Why yes, this IS a black feminist post!

Taken from forcolredgurls.com



So, as some of you may know, I recently cut off my loc extensions, and now I’m left with just my own plain and simple stubby 6 inch locs. I thought cutting them off was going to be easy, I could never understand why girls/women thought of their hair as such a protective shield, or a safety blanket that they couldn’t do without.

But when I looked in the mirror this morning and the first thing I thought was “Holy shit, I look like a boy”, that’s when it hit home. See, I just didn’t feel pretty anymore. It was as if my short hair meant I was permanently doomed to be dull and unattractive, and as much as I thought I was so cool, embracing my “natural beauty” and all, I felt as if my beauty no longer came from inside, or even from my face; it was that hair that I paid seven thousand damn dollars for.

But in the hours since then, I’ve realized that I am, like so many other women (and especially us black women!) letting my hair hold me back. I shucked the idea that beauty came with straight hair when I made the decision to grow locs, citing non-conformity to the image of white women an all that….but I hadn’t realized that I was still holding on to this idea that girls with long hair are just prettier. After all, they seem to get all the male attention anyway. And I used to be annoyed seeing black girls in the straightest longest weave they could buy, as if their own negro kinks weren’t enough, but yet here I was holding onto these artificial negro kinks as if my own stubbies (as I’ve started calling them) weren’t enough either.

I was too busy feeling like a boy that I didn’t realize how much this new short carefree hair suits my personality. It’s crazy and wild and slightly untamed just like me. It’s open to so many opportunities, and despite its restrictions, all it needs is a little love and care to look like something completely magical. I’ve been terrified to let anyone see, what if they don’t like it? What if they think I should have left the braids in? What if they don’t find me pretty anymore?

But seriously, who cares? Isn’t it my hair. Am I not a beautiful black woman whether I have stubbies or 12 foot long dreads? And besides, I’m acting as if my hair won’t grow eventually anyway. 

I’ve always scoffed at women who cut their hair and then go through this overly dramatic life change where they’ve shed all the weight of everything that’s bad in their lives. And while I still think that whole notion is a tad too theatrical for my tastes, I feel like I’ve shed a thousand pounds, not just in weight on my head, but in inhibitions. I just feel free and wild and like I can just blow with the wind, something that I’ve always felt to some degree, but I was letting stupid things hold me back.

While I’m not yet 100% comfortable with this new short hair, I know that I will be. And I know that it suits me, and I know that no matter what it is, I can rock it. I am THE champion for natural hair, I love it love it love it. So many people will look down on me because I have short kinky stubs. Maybe I won’t look as polished as my brown-skinned long haired friends from higher societies…but I’ll look like exactly what I am: Me. Basically, this is what I really look like, and if I really look like a boy, then I guess I’ll just have to do my best to look like a very pretty boy.

Simple one line advice to my fellow women: don’t let your hair hold you back.

Seriously, stop obsessing and just do you.


Stay awesome, forever and always :)



Wanting It All

Below is my second spoken-word poetry piece.  The inspiration behind is basically my ambitions in life. I want everything I can possibly have, not monetarily or materially, but I want all the experience, all the fullness and the richness I can possibly pack into my life.

I want to die and be pleased that I lived to the fullest I could. I want to be able to live every single day to its absolute maximum potential, because…well this is cliche, but tomorrow may pretty much be my last…

Which would SUCK by the way, since I haven’t achieved anything yet!!!

I apologize for the cheap mic sound quality, and the poor voice quality as I am still suffering from this stupid tonsil infection…

Oh! And for the errors I made. Remember I’m still quite a novice at this.

Anyway, here it is:



The words to the poem are posted under the video if anyone cares :)

Please stay awesome

Imagining and Doing

Use your imagination

For those of you who, like me, are searching for some passion in life, or are searching to find what exactly it may be that you’re good at, or what you want to achieve, here’s a little advice I happened to stumble upon.

In a talk given by the lovely Dr Naila Keleta-Mae (i.e. my lovely cousin-in-law) she speaks to the concept of “Imagine and Do”. I’ll post the youtube link a little further down, because it really is an EXCELLENT talk, but I thought I’d highlight some of the things that stood out to me from what she said. (Some may be paraphrased)

“Freedom lies on the other side of truth-telling.”

“The hardest part is imagining yourself doing it.”

“Secrets steal away parts of our imagination.”


Basically the first thing you have to do to achieve your goals is to imagine it. Now I’ve imagined myself doing many things, such as going to the moon, but I had to change my imaginations to things that were a little bit more realistic. (just a little). And I’ve resolved to stop living in the shadows being discontent with my abilities, and to go out and try to chase my passions down and maybe I’ll be able to hold one tightly enough that I can become great at it.

I would recommend the same for anyone. Ok so maybe you don’t think there’s anything that you’re really really great at…but maybe there’s something that you really love, you’re never going to achieve anything in it until you go out and try :)

That’s my tiny piece of advice for you to day…the extended version, don’t forget to check out the link below! *points down*


Sometimes I get Tired

I’m trying to get started in spoken word, and this is the first piece I have done :)

It’s called Sometimes I Get Tired, and it’s written basically for women and girls, their role in life, and how they feel about it basically.. So enjoy!

I’ve been having serious trouble getting the video into the stupid post. I presume I’m not technologically inclined enough to do this… but anyway you can simply click the link :

Click Here For Video :)!

Thanks guys :)

Stay awesome :)


Ok guys, I’m writing this quick post to my few (and I mean like 2) followers to apologize for not posting in so long. Eek! I know I promised I’d post more, but I’ve been working on a bigger project (admittedly very very very slowly). That’s all I’ll say about it for now *fingers crossed*

And school is starting back up again soon so you know that that’s gonna kill my posting-time :(

Oh the woes in life. Lol anyway ta ta for now.

Stay awesome, stay amazing, stay you.