Square One

Here i am. Square one. Unfillterated. Un adulterated. Transparent. Me.
I always find myself coming to this. Having this conversation with myself. This time its in the middle of a different conversation that I'm having with my friends. Im currently dreading having to go back to their boring ass conversations about manipulative girlfriends because its not engaging enough and I don't care. I just want to be alone. Bask in my thoughts and cry over the fact that there are people out there who are like me and i have no idea how to find them. Which is my favorite form of self sabotage.
I really wish my brain would just shut off for a few seconds or maybe a few months. I wish i was wired differently so I wouldn't have to think about how boring my life is or how theres this unspoken blueprint for life that i dont want to follow. I wish i was wired differently so I wouldn't have to suffer constantly.
Fuck fuck fuck



Im finally done with my first semester of college and words can not explain the feeling I feel.  Attending college is one of the best decisions I’ve made, even if I’m going to be a couple thousands dollars in debt. I have a job, my grades are not failing, I have a lovely boyfriend who cares for me and loves me. It just feels like nothing is going wrong.

I love this place because I walk around college and I don’t feel poor, I don’t feel like a sudanese girl with a single parent. I feel like myself, I feel like Nyadet the girl who loves writing, who is a exceptional poet, who enjoys the occasional cup of coffee. I write as tears stroll down my eyes because Ive never felt this free in my entire life.

I know that I am and will be forever tied to my past but here it is not about my pass. Its about my future. The clouds are separating and my future is slowly appearing and it isn’t stuck in the bathtub in my house afraid to leave, nor is it spending 100% of my time consuming myself with constant entertainment and stimulation from friends or the internet. It looks clear, and saturated and colorful and although I don’t know what Im going to do, I know that I will be happy.

Dear X

I don’t know which is more upsetting. the fact that you may never know how much of an impact you have had on me, or the fact that i may never be able to tell you. Thank you for existing. For being so much of me that letting you go feels like the loss of my arm or foot. It means killing a past me and resurrecting to this form. thank you for breathing your words to life. For letting them enter the windows of my mind and having them simmer.Your touch lingers like autumn leaves that will never experience the cool ground.Thanks to you, i now know that i am not alone. That these roads are constantly under construction and the first step of restoration is a first date with myself and a book. Thanks for influencing a drive that is never ending and in all of that, all you needed to was live. And share your living.  Thank you for reminding me that beauty exist in the simplest most mundane of days when sitting in hammocks on muggy Wednesday afternoons feels like love.

Thank you for cultivating a riot in my heart.

New Hair, New Me

Im exploring new ideas for this blog. Originally created as a safe space to spill all of my gut wrenching mental filth, Ive embarked on new waters. I don’t want to use this as a journal, I already have one of those. Complaining about my life is just grey and not entertaining at all. Besides, and all of my exsissential crises, are about as mundane as a suburban white dad cheating on his wife with his intern. We’ve all felt it and heard it. Not to say that I won’t be complaining, Nyadet living without complaints? LAUGH OUT LOUD HILARIOUS. I guess i just want to tone it down for a little while. Explore new options.

On Kissing

I have never learned how to kiss. Well, at least how to execute one. It was something I never had to learn because I have always been kissed. I never had to do the kissing and for that, I have to give credit to DUDES everywhere because , being the Kisser is incredibly difficult.

My Saturday night consisted of a lot of kissing. Super cute boy named lee. NO SEX. Just good old fashion lip fighting.

on kissing:

we are children

clawing for the cookie jar,

yearning for something out of reach.

but you are here.In reach

less than 10cm a way.

we are inhaling  each others exhales

collecting breathes in case we ever run out

We are touching

and time, is stretching.

pulling me in and out.

and I am fumbling my words.

making anagrams of coherent sentences.

afraid of reading the signs wrong

we are 2 cm away from each other


there is nothing left between us but lips and desire.

We are kissing and

I feel young

Like a child

Making out is great. I wish I could do it more.



I Hear You

Im sorry I have beeen absent for over a week or so. I wish i could say I was busy training for a marathon or recruiting underprivledged youth to work for a nature conservatory project but in honesty I was consumed with my ability to do absolutely nothing.
Its kind of bewildering how much of an effect not writing has on me. It makes me complacent as though everything around me is okay.  But  that does always last very long. Like always, I always resort back to this place no matter the circumstances.
That being said, I have something to complain about (shocker).

There are MILLIONS of people who feel the same way as I do. Those of us who cruise through life in search for something larger than us. Those of us floating in the middle of shark infested, paralyzed by the fear of being eaten. Those of us who have felt the sting of our own self made poison.

The other night I was lounging with my friends, watching Madagascar. It was a beautiful day outside and my stomach was filled with cheese crusted pizza and loads of unhealthy junk food. It should’ve been heaven on earth, yet there was still this voice jabbing at my brain cells: “THIS ISNT GOOD ENOUGH, YOU SHOULD BE DOING MORE. THIS ISNT ENOUGH”

My different friend groups are comparable to a different terrain; the tundra, the dessert, the rainforest. All have a set of different characteristics and attributes unique to its location. None like the other. Each contains a beauty unique to its own.
I  am the lone traveler, exploring the flora and fauna, falling in love with the ginormous sky blanket above, hopelessly searching for enlightenment or something more. Something pure.
Is the lonely ever going to fade?

At this point I’m not too sure.
In other new, my nipples are sore.

It Rained

This morning it rained and for the first time, I found solace in the quiet pitter-patter of rain drops.  For years, I associated the rain with sadness and sorrow. Waking up felt like a chore, and doing things in the morning: a drag. The aftermath of everything being drenched in rain made me feel gloomy and muggy. But this morning, it was fascinatingly different.

I woke up and I didn’t feel drowsy; I felt revived and refreshed  like flowers after their first taste of rain during a drought. It was much needed.

I’m just overfilled with joy. Nothing feels like it can go wrong right now.