A Most Weird Journey Today l took a trip To a strange strange place A pitstop between heaven and hell It was a most weird journey I saw places l knew People smiled and said hello Strangers ran to their cars to help me They had no idea That today I took a most weird journey To a place l shall never return A place l never wanted to know existed A place that changed my #life In ways l never knew or asked for

I spent hours looking at my touch screen phone for you...and then you left. Do this. Do that. Try this. Try that. "There's a bar in Liverpool Street full of great men". I had heard it all before until my new friend, Anna* told me a great story about a great guy she had spent the weekend with- a friend she had made online. It's a no brainer really when it comes to Internet dating. You are either for it. Or against it. I'm against it. And this is the truth. Or at least it would've been the truth had I written this blog 5 months ago. The truth is, I am very much for internet dating! I'm so for it in-fact, there should be a law, a decree, a royal charter, declaring that 'everyone above the age of 21 MUST indulge their raging fire of youth by taking careful advantage of the plenty of fish out there!" And yes, there are plenty of fish out there. I'm not the most striking girl you will ever see. I don't walk into a room and turn heads with my blonde flowing locks and size zero frame. I walk into a room and everyone takes an unnecessary party break to stare at the girl with the afro and size 12 hips. Yep. I'm that girl. But it's a good #life I promise. I'm not saying I don't get dudes, I'm not saying I'm spoilt for choice either. I'm your average looking girl with a personality to rival yours! On average I would say I get between 40 to 50 messages per week. They range from dudes of all ethnicities and #lifestyles- either declaring a minor interest or texting full blown proposals. Exactly! My devilish pleasure comes from simply clicking a yes/no button. That's right. This thumb has the power to declare you void or valuable and either bruise your ego indefinitely or rock your freaging world! Cheers to thumbs! Most of the guys who message me are again, average* (terrible word-*insert synonym here) but occasionally I get a message that catches my attention. Then the necessary steps follow- click, check profile, scroll through pictures, send reply message. That's how I met *Adam. Whilst checking his profile I was struck by his frame. He was covered in tattoos and his pictures reflected a world of creativity to which I am involuntarily attracted. I replied to his initial message (which was a compliment on my beauty-obviously) with a humble 'thank you very much'. Then we got talking. I wish then l had known now that I had just opened the gates of temptation and would become an unwitting character in a dark tale of love and heartache. When l say that l began 'talking' to Adam, I ofcourse mean the 20th century forms of communication, such as whatsapp, twitter, kik etc. This is the norm for me. With iPhone 4 in hand l catch up with every aspect of my #life. I spend hours a day literally stating at my touchscreen. I spent hours looking at my touch screen for you Adam, and then you left. I text using a variety of options and functions. But that's mostly all l do-text, not talk. Infact, I hate talking on the phone! Send me a voicemail and l will NOT listen to it but l will definitely secretly wish that smart phones became smart enough to disable the function permanently. So, we talked. Adam and l. Initially we talked back and forth for a few days then it just went cold. A month or so after this I missed the great little banter we had created so I messaged him a 'Hi, I'm still here" message, by way of texting his name (Adam!) Adam replied almost immediately with "the one and only" I will never forget this message. Because this was the beginning of one of the more exciting stories of my young #life that left me feeling numb and love struck at the same time. I will never forget a lot if the messages we sent each other. They ever deep and sincere, brutal, honest and funny. Some of my favourite that I have saved in a file called "us" on my phone, went as follows. "I never knew that perfect existed until l met you"- Adam "You're my dream girl! Marry me"-Adam "I would love to eat a string of spaghetti with me on one end and you on the other"-me #ireallyfuckinglikeyou-Adam #ireallyfuckinglikeyounorethanyoufuckibglikeme-me #ibetyoidontfickinglikememoretganlfuckibglikeyoufuck! "Adam "'What is a beauty like you doing with a punk like me!?!"- Adam "Two days ago my #life was basic, now it's perfect because of you baby"-me "I've never met anyone as awesome as you!"-Adam There where at least 100 "I miss you so much's" exchanged during our brief two week love affair. And that's how we got to know each other, talking via touch screen and spiritually connecting via the universe. Adam and l had what people call 'a spark'. We just clicked. There is nothing else I can use to describe the sudden rush of synergy that seemed to flow as each message came through. It was electric. And as electricity goes, play recklessly with it and you will get shocked. We had many many many obvious spiritual, educational, social, cultural and musical differences. We couldn't have been more different. He was a college drop our, tattoo artist, hedonistic living rich hero rebel. I am a conservative, past-grad educated, safe socialising, music loving social rebel. But that's what connected us. I spent hours listening to him and learning him. And he did the same for me. We had such great laughs mocking each others #lifestyles, looks, breakfasts and lunches, sending silly and sexy selfies and catching up on how each of us where doing every second of every day. At this point, a few days after we had swapped numbers, (I asked for his number first-bow down bitches!) we had literally spent every hour of each day texting back and forth. I learnt him. Not learnt about him. I learnt him. Because there was no expectation from either end- I never once mentioned being in a relationship and neither did he. Infact, we seemed to have gone speeding past the amber lights of #life and went full on into making future plans together, like travelling together to a tattoo convention in Amsterdam. You see, we are about that #life! Neither of us had particularly planned what the social reactions to our interracial shenanigans would be. Que the strained early morning looks we got in the hotel diner that morning after we consummated our weirdness in a grotty area of eas' London blood! Adam and l had both come into this relatively blasé and non-expectant. We where willing to throw caution to the wind and flow with the either angels or demons. We where willing to flow together him and l. We spoke about everything and nothing in between. We spoke about us and them, law and politics, music and movies, love and war, habits and traits, family and friends- we spoke a lot about 'us'. Many times we would call one another 'perfect' then he once replied another complimentary message with "Both of us can't be perfect baby. You're perfect, not me". I took this in and it affected my emotions. What we did most of all is we laughed! we laughed a lot. He once promised to 'dirty wine' for me- l still laugh at that memory! Adam has a great sense of humour and a sweet virginesque innocence. I would push the conversation to intimate pastures and he would coyly guide me out of them. I liked even this side of him. With him being younger than me, l ofcourse empathised with this side of him, taking sensitive steps to get to know him without being weird or pushy. It was on a Sunday night that we arranged to meet for our first 'date'. It wasn't supposed to be that, but we found ourselves free on a bank holiday Monday and what else does a social networker do on a bank holiday? Meeting up was a comedy of errors- phones not connecting, buses diverted, trains cancelled, alighting at wrong locations 2 times. But eventually we met and we went to a lovely little bar along the Thames bank, in Greenwich. Adam was everything l assumed he would be, except he was better looking in person. His tattoos were so much hotter in 3D (his phrase) and we immediately knew that we not only had great banter and some feelings for each other, we had chemistry. Great chemistry at that! It seemed like it was a union that was 'Made In China'. We had a few drinks, ran a few errands then the time to part came. I drove Adam to a train station and before he left, we stared at one another, we hugged, both released sighs if relief that neither if is are serial killers, then we kissed. And it was beautiful. So beautiful. To #quote Adam, "when we first kiss the earth will stop dying at the awesomeness of us". This #quote had been quite prophetic on his part because our first kiss was in good ol' Peckham. A town in London that is always slowly dying (we had agreed to change this story fir the sake of not committing social suicide). It wasn't just in Peckham, rather, it was under the bridge at Peckham train station, illegally parked on the side road- with hazard lights flashing, to be exact. Adam was poetic like that which unfortunately suffered me a piece of my heart which I will probably never heal, unless he returns. He was into Willie Nelson- quoting me poetry and swooping me off my feet. After our first date, we carried on our text conversations as usual. I was falling deeper into his abyss. I was free falling and l didn't want to scream or shout. I was falling for a guy l met in front of a touch screen and had only met once and spoken to on the phone a couple of times. I was deep into it with him and our affair seemed to have no end- we believed that even the dust and the sea envied our natural connection. Proceed to the next weekend. Adam had planned a romantic-ego-gratifying 'swoop age' which was supposed to "swoop" me off my feet. And that he did! He had prepared the hotel room for me. Flowers, my favourite chocolates, pizza and alcohol. We had a great night and l would like to put it out there that society has crafted this black men/white men myth. And it is a lie. I was a happy camper that night. I became mentally in awe of him- yeah, he was that good. I will spare you the sordid details but what l will let you know is that l wish l had known that was the last time I would ever kiss him, hold him or see his thoughts and wondering a permanently inked on his slender frame. A few days sent by which seemed rather 'normal'. Then the messages on Tuesday went for longer periods without being answered. Any attempts to broach my concerns where shut down gunshot style! Men have a way if fucking up a woman's day with a lil harsh sentence and that is what he did. Many times that week. Wednesday was better but then came Thursday- "do you want me to stop serving a customer to send a message?"- funny that, it never seemed like a problem before now?!? Friday was worse. I knew something was going on but I didn't know what. And he wouldn't say. I stepped back and so did he- no texts came through that day to make me laugh or simply smile. It was particularly devastating because we had agreed that it was my turn to swoop him. I had planned our next get together at my place. I went food shopping and slutty bedroom outfit shopping. I even bought my lingerie in his favourite colour. But this was one piece of lace he would never see. Adam and l had a little squabble Saturday morning after another series of unanswered msgs and phone calls. On Saturday things where pretty tense between us and l knew that this was the end. I had a feeling in my gut that no matter what the night would bring us, it would not last into the morning. I didn't bother him much that day. Just pleaded gently for him to uplift his mood and come round later to forget his woes. Those messages didn't get expected responses either bit was then that l knew. This was it. Adam never came round that night. Instead l drank myself into a stupor and checked my phone more times that night than l had ever since mobile phones where invented. I went to sleep that night with a clouded mind. And l woke up with a broken heart. And l went back to sleep with both. This is how lve been living for the past 7 days. It's been a week since Adam and l communicated. He never did reply to my last "are you coming?" text and the final "I hope you're okay?" The answer to the former is 'no' and the answer to the latter is ????? I have no idea. I have no idea if he is ok or what happened!?! I do not know what I did or said or if the blame is even on me! I do not know if he just simply can't be arsed because he got what he wanted then left. What I wonder the most though is- WAS IT REAL? All the feelings we supposedly shared, all the things we found fascinating about each other, all the kisses, naked pictures, morning kisses- was it real to you Adam? I mostly want you to tell me this , did you just want an experience with an older woman (4yearsagedifference) and most discharmingly , did you just want to smash a black woman then move back on to your reality? I have so many dumb (yet justified) questions. What perplexes me the most about this whole situation is that there was no goodbye. There was no argument, no lying or whatever else normal people break up for. That's all I want really- an explanation. I just want closure. Whether or not I ever get a reply is a stones thrown into a never ending abyss. At one point the stone might rest upon a bank and, hopefully, that is when l will get my explanation. All I want is a text message. Its the least l deserve. You don't just walk into someones #life and turn their emotions upside down then leave without notice! That is cruel and it's unfair. lf karma is real, the tables will one day turn and someone out there will make him feel like I feel right now. Im a deep hollow confused mess! Although l would NEVER wish any ill upon him, no matter how much of a douche he is being right now, he is far too freaging rad to have a broken heart! I got used to staring at my touch screen sharing my #life with you Adam. I will read and re-read and never delete the next message you send me. I will keep it- even if it says 'fuck off' or 'I'm sorry'. Two simple words is all lm waiting for, an explanation. Something to help me move on and let go. However, if more is available and you want a part of my heart again I will gladly accept. There's plenty of #life left in this heart of mine and will share some if it with you. Please don't judge me. I know a lot of this doesn't make sense. I can hear the voice of the wise crying out obscenities against me. But the angels understand what l mean. They where there when we had encounters and created memories. You were not there, so please don't judge me. I will accept him back because what we shared was heat. And I miss him, I miss him terribly it aches. I have never connected with a stranger on such a blazing platou that he had me drinking and crying and reevaluating my #life. He challenged, excited, satisfied and inspired me. I would have you back Adam as a friend. As a lover. As a thunder buddy. Or at least, like Sheeran and P Money said- can l say goodbye to you?

I Don't Know If I Was Raped ... It was one of our many nights out. I was all dolled up as we did when we went out. My hard partying sister invited us to another if her impromptu drink ups and Ofcourse, one does not decline an invitation for free food, good music, friends and family. And most importantly, alcohol. That became my nemesis which l hold a great fear and respect for now-alcohol. Tyrone* was an old friend. We had grown up together in a small town in Zimbabwe. He had been in my sisters class at primary school and he had migrated to the UK at some point in his teenage years. My family had already moved and settled in to #life in the UK- a #life that was normal and relatively successful by all accounts. I would see Tyrone at different intervals throughout the next few years. Usually in bars, clubs, mutual friends' weddings or birthday celebrations. He was a familiar face and we would always say hello. He was much closer to my sister than l- but being the type of person who gives love freely and holds relationships in high esteem, l would make casual conversation and move on until our next unexpected meeting. Eventually, after about 10 years of being acquaintances, he requested my friendship in Facebook and I accepted. I want it to be clear that I accepted his friendship based on him being familiar to me. We were not particularly 'friends' but we were very familiar with each other. It came by surprise when I got a message from him asking me out on a date. On Facebook! (Did somebody say '21st century lame ass dudes?'- l agree!). Ofcourse I chastised and moked him ridiculously about it until he got my number from a mutual friend (who I still have not figured out yet). Unfortunately, I answered that first call and we became friends. That was my first mistake. We spoke on the phone quite frequently. I must admit that the conversations were very easy. We had a lot- too much, in common. We spoke about our days in Zimbabwe, our lives in the UK, our faith (which was very different) and Ofcourse any plans we had for the future. It was the summer of 2011 that he asked me to make it official. I wish I could say it was romantic and expected but it wasn't. It was after a string if those 'hey how was yo day' type of text messages that he threw in a 'can you be my girlfriend?' I atypically slaughtered him for that weak attempt, laughed about with my sister and friends and accepted an 'lm sorry' date from him. It was in this date that he asked me out and we became official. I told my friends and a few family members that after 5 years of being a celibate God fearing Christian, I finally let my holy guard down and was willing to try love. They were naturally, overjoyed that at 26, l was finally dating/courting. Being that our relationship started at a point where I was admittedly going through a 'sexual transition', l was not ready to enter into an intimate relationship with him. He knew this as we discussed it at length during our friendship. U fortunately, l learnt one day that he didn't respect nor care too much about my growth process. So that night we went to my sisters' drink up was supposed to be normal. We were supposed to go out, have a few drinks, a bit of banter and food, then head back home. It is here that I will confess what I believe has only ever been my only mistake in this situation. I stupidly used to allow him to spend the night at my house. He did this quite frequently and for two whole months it seemed to work. We kissed and touched but l still was not ready to take the relationship deeper. Kissing, touching and laying next to each other was what I wanted, needed and liked. I seemed to have it all that point. At the drink up his best friend (who doubles up as my sister in law and my sisters' best friend too) made a remark about me "not looking happy". She was right. I wasn't. I wasn't happy with the course his #life was taking. He wasn't a 'go getter' like me. He didn't even have money to buy me Nando's one night. He had just started UNI at the age of 30 and the prospect of him having to go through 10 years of education and training until employment left me feeling uneasy. I had graduated at 21 and had become a full time teacher by 23. He just didn't match up to my very normal (not high or low!) expectations. He also wasn't very intelligent. I learnt that very early in in the relationship. I like to sh*t talk regularly but l also like deep intellectual conversations which stimulate my mind and leave me with more questions than answers. I guess it's because I am we'll educated and I am a great educator- it's a just have in my #life partner. And he definitely did not have it. As a result of all the above plus more, l had made up my mind that I was going to leave and move on that night. I guess it showed in my body language and we left the party early. We got home. I was tipsy. I got changed quickly. Went to my bed. Went to sleep. Woke up to him kissing me. Then blacked out. Woke up to him f***ing me. Then I blacked out. Tried screaming STOP but whispered it instead. Friend pulling him off me. Then blacked out again. What happened the rest of that night, I do not really remember. When I woke up that morning l knew that l had not been drunk that night. Two glasses of Rose do not make a regular drinker black out ok? I think I asked him what happened and his reply was "I feel like I took advantage of you last night. I'm sorry". Stupidly, l just smiled and said 'its ok'. That was his first and only admission of guilt. Any subsequent requests for him to help me understand these flashbacks I was having were met with disdain, denial, accusation and he would always, always brush me off. I hated him a thousand times more than I ever liked him. I never knew what it felt like to be a victim of sexual a***e. I grew up with a protective father who made me cherish my womanhood. I only ever had consensual sex and I have never blacked out during sex before- there is no man who is King Kong in bed who will knock you out with his manhood (if there then lucky you!). To this day I still don't have answers. The hardest thing has been trying to talk about this with my friends and family who were there through out the whole courtship and relationship. It turns out that when you are mistreated in a relationship that involves more than one person, you will rarely get the justice you deserve. Take, for example, pre-mentioned sister in law, who responded to my sober story with "you can't make a man sleep in your bed and not have sex with you!" Right before she told me that "God is with you. Just pray about it!" I decided that day not to talk about it again to anybody. I was the victim. I needed answers. I needed to know that I was understood. But that never happened. I saw him last night for the first time since we broke up. I know today that I still hate him with the sane passion and vigour that I did when those flashbacks first started. He tried to talk to me and l calmly said "I do not communicate with rapists". No conversation, a slight unconvincing look of self pity, then he turned and walked away. I hope to God l never see him again. Ever. One day I will heal. One day I will know exactly what happened. What I will never do though, is blame myself for what he did. Yes- I shouldn't have let him sleep in my bed that night. Or at all some might say. But what about my human rights? What about my right to say who does and doesn't have access to my pussy? What about my right to drink alcohol responsibly without worrying if my boyfriend is going to spike it? What about my right to tell my story and have a comforting ear listen to me? I have rights that where definitely violated and I unapologetically will always know "I do not know if I was raped". But my heart, my spirit, my soul, and my body (which bled a little that morning after 5 years if celibacy) know what happened. One day I will accord the truth. Writing about has helped me walk through that part of my #life and begin to deal with it. I am waiting to see a therapist and l am waiting to know what I already know. I still believe in love. I still like men (I like f***ing ok!). I also like being respected and protected by the person I choose to spend a night or a #life time with. It's my body and its my choice. I hope none of you ever know what it feels like to NOT KNOW if you had sex or not! So I sit here writing this piece with his ugly soul edged in the creases of my mind until the day I choose to let him out. I want to hate him more and more everyday but I can't. He took something big out of me and l simply cannot let him take anything else. So let me sip my tea, watch a movie and fantasise about the love I have only ever seen in movies. Let me live. #TNM

The Love Of Money... Some people are so poor, all they have is money!