Doing just book reviews has made me very lazy because I don’t have to think too hard or create something new – I just expound on what has been written. So when Debo, my brother, hit me up about writing prompts, I almost felt like it was a shade – although a shade I was happy to stand under. Guess who’s looking to be creative again! Me. Me. Me. Me!
I want to be an artwork. No, don’t say: You already are. You were molded to this shape and size, and every part of your body was created thoughtfully. I already know that. When I say I want to be an artwork, I mean, I want to feel like an artwork. I want to live like an artwork. I want pictures to be taken not just of my face, but
I am the M in Mr. NIGER D Melancholy. Oh? The M does not stand for Melancholy? Now I’m red-faced. I always find innovative ways to embarrass myself. And people are always looking at me and my actions and judging me. I am always thinking about what and who and why and how and where Every action has consequences Every emotion matters Every mistake is not a mistake. Sorry, I
Hey Mel, It’s finally your turn. I know you’ve been reading the letters to the others and you’ve been overthinking why I chose to write to you last. Save those deep thoughts for better things- I write to you last because I love you best. People say you’re a ‘creative mind prone to severe and frequent depression’ but I say that’s a shallow way to describe a genius. We know