I Just Write

Brickell: My Name means Bridge Hi, my name is, what?  My name is, who?  My name is, chka-chka, little bridge in Old German. A boy’s name, actually. The name that I tell everyone, bypassing the first two my parents donned me with. Brickell. So many variations: Brickster, Brickie, Peanut Brickell. Bree, Bri or Brie. Bri Bri (my favourite actually that only one person has ever called me). And of course, mispronounced giving me my (literal) street name Brickell Avenue. Or misheard where I’m forced to say, “with a B” as I trace out the letter in the air to the person who just called me ‘Raquel’. And fun fact: it’s not even my legal name, spelling wise. Will the real Brickell please stand up? Your name means a lot, right? It’s what everyone knows you as. But who are you really? Are you your name? Your personality? Your character traits? I don’t know. It’s not like a name dictates who you’re going to be as a person. Or does it? It’s not like Catherine is going to tot...

Busy Bee, Busy Bree, Busy Me What’s the quote? The devil finds work for idle hands? I work harder than the devil I bet, because I cannot sit still for one single second.   Peace that passes all man’s understanding, I am promised. And I’m sure I’ve received it. That’s why nothing’s happening.   Be still and know that I am God . Psalm 46:10   Can I get a fidget spinner at least, please, God? Because I’ve turned into one trying to sit still . I know that you are God, but can I please have something to do, other than nothing? How can I just sit here when there’s so much work to be done? I get it, you don’t need me to complete Your work in this world, but You really want me to just be still ?   I discovered what faith meant in a 20-minute conversation. Simply put: all God asks us to do is trust in Him and obey His Word while we wait on Him. That’s faith. Whatever you do to fill the time is your business. But those are the two requirements as a Chri...

This is it. This is the Peace, the piece of God I’ve always asked for. "Um Pôr do Sol na Praia" - Silva e Ludmilla The kettle whistles. I think to myself, “Wow, I really love making my cup of tea.” I pour the boiling water into my teacup, already filled with my creamer, sugar and of course the black tea bag. (Fight me, this is the right way to make tea.) I sit down at the dining table and think “Wow, I really have nothing to do.” I don’t have any obligations at this point in time. Yet, I’m still searching, seeking really, for something to do. It’s funny how I’ve got to learn how to relax. Literally sit myself down. Breathe in. Breathe out. These are conscious thoughts that I have to make. My teeth have actually been hurting the past couple of days because of how tight I’ve been clenching my teeth, biting down. The less things I have to do, the more agitated I become. Why? As my schedule frees up and I have less and less obligations that I actually have to tend to, ...

I was waiting pour mon Prince Charmant “Who is he?” you ask. Well, the one who charms you the most, obviously. What does it mean to charm someone? To have them under a spell. A spell of good looks, humour, wonderful words, whatever the sort may be. It’s my fault for believing he’d show up. Life is no fairytale. It’s my fault for watching all those Disney princess movies. Life is no fairytale. It’s my fault for believing in happily ever after’s. Life is no fairytale.   I relate the most to Belle, in terms of Disney princesses, I mean. Her name means Beauty in French. She read all the day long. And loved her father very dearly. She didn’t intend to be charmed or fall in love with the Beast. It just happened. We saw how fed up she was with her small town and wouldn’t even give the Charmer of the Town, Gaston, the time of day. The whole town marvelled at her yet made her feel like an outcast because she was a mystery to them. She was headstrong, well-read and beautiful. Doe...

What is the human cost of war? Humans. Uh duhhh. I heard a CNN anchor pose this question in passing the TV that everyone’s been glued to during this Russia-Ukraine conflict. I don’t know if it was a quote or if this question was actually being asked, but my reaction was “Is this even a question?” in a bewildered manner. It was a form of rhetoric to get us, as viewers, thinking. The cost of war is human life. Period.   There’s no circumlocuting the point. No beating around the bush. There’s no need for the use of rhetoric when it comes to times like these. The evidence is clear. Human lives are at stake. This topic is not one to be danced around. It’s become so common. 24/7 surveillance of war. Truly desensitising. All morality has been lost at this point.   When countries choose to fight, when they choose to engage in war as opposed to engage in conflict resolution, they make the choice to endanger human lives. There’s no if’s, and’s or but’s about it. Wh...

Lock up, lock up, lock up. Make sure your door is double locked. Are all the doors locked? Did you check the windows too? Okay, good. Just making sure. Good, now no one can get in. Can you get out? Good, so only those with a key can get out then? Okay good, only those you let in can get in.   Seems like a pretty good security system to me. I hope you feel safe. Locked away from everyone. I hope they feel deterred, on the other side of the fence. I hope they know your house is off limits. I hope they never try to get in.   Wait, you wanted to be a part of a community? But how can they get in? But why would they want you to let them in? Have you seen how your house looks from the outside? So, you’ll take all the locks off the door? But what about your safety?        

You know if you’re a fly, you like faeces. If you’re a bee, you like flowers. You like what you like, and you’ll like it until you stop. And some people just don’t know any better.   Let me pose this question to you: What is the difference between a gated community and a ghetto? Both are under surveillance: one by usage of cameras, the other, policed. Both have reserved geographical areas: one, the suburban ring, the other, the inner city. Both are bound to these areas, who enjoys it? Hiding away for so long left me forgetful of the feeling of belonging. Now that I’ve re-entered the world and to be surrounded by so much positivity and light, I ask why I kept myself away for so long?   For those that don’t know me very well, I haven’t been, or at least have been on and off social media for the past two years and I’ve only just re-joined society, if you will, about a couple days ago, with this blog actually.   I remember my cousin asking me if “I was on the run” because I h...

  Curated, Crafted, Calibrated, Calculated (clandestine) Character A cool, calm and collected charActor What is a mask? Is it something that covers and hides the face? Or is it something that the face covers and hides behind? I had posed a similar question to a few close people in my life. Whose fault is it: the fool for believing in the fool’s gold to be real? Or the fool’s gold itself for not being real gold, almost as if it had planned to be deceptive? I haven’t come to a conclusion yet.   But I’ve found that the answer varies from person to person and sometimes the same answer, just delivered through another means. One said adamantly that it is the fool and at that point in time I believed it was deceptive of the fool’s gold to pose as real gold. I took their answer personally and in return adamantly disagreed. Another I asked and they were stumped. A third-party had to be brought in, to which their response was “It’s an inanimate object, correct?” This answer prom...

ABC: A Better Citizen And what does it mean to be a Global Citizen?   Well, I think it’s quite obvious: a citizen of the world. Does that literally mean that I go into life thinking I can become a literal citizen of each country, obtaining tangible documents from each country to prove that I belong to 195 nations? No! It means that I look to respect and be respected wherever I go. I interact, relate, and connect with those low and high, no background check required.   Now, many may look at this as an innocent view of the world. “How do you expect everyone to respect you?” “How do you expect to just like everyone you’re put in front of, every person that crosses your path?” That’s what the critic and judge say inside me when I make a declaration as big as I will respect and be respected by every person I encounter. That is a tremendous feat. People are difficult. I know cause I’m difficult. The fact of the matter is no one likes the same cup of tea. Respect is a decisi...

Avec un regard intense et les yeux louchés, il examine l’horizon pour voir les frégates qui lui indiquent où est la grande prise du jour : « Là-bas ! » crie-t-il joyeusement, dès qu’il les voit.             Il se dépêche frénétiquement au gouvernail et le saisit de ses mains calleuses qui montrent son dur labeur. Le vrombissement du moteur s’intensifie alors qu’il pousse la commande du gaz se chasse la proie comme un guépard, vite et concentré. Ce n’est pas sa première journée au travail, c’est assuré ; en fait il est pratiquement né sur le bateau, suivant les traces de son père depuis sa naissance. Passant ses jours sous le soleil chaleureux a rendu son teint bronzé et l’océan est comme un miroir, réfléchissant ses yeux azurés.             Des thons énormes sautent de l’eau cristalline et il sait qu’il arrive au bon endroit. Il est maintenant temp...

Neverland, Everland, Foreverland? The Promises of Peter Pan Why did Peter Pan never want to grow up? It wasn’t like he knew what adulthood was about. He never grew up!   However, he held on so tightly to the rails of his childhood that he assumed he’d have to give it up when he grew up. Perhaps, along his travels, he met some Scrooge’s, a few grumpy adults that put a bad taste in his mouth. Maybe the glory of youth was too much to let go of. Who knows? What we do know is that adulthood entails reality. There’s no escaping what’s under your nose. Staring blatantly at what’s in front of you, making eye contact with it and never breaking it. You don’t want to show weakness, not anymore at least. When you were a child, it was okay to cry, throw tantrums and recover all within 20 minutes and go on about your day business as usual. But now, that’s no longer acceptable. Those twenty minutes allotted to your release of feelings are no longer tied to you at the age of twenty. ...

“It’s best to share.” Or is it?   What’s yours is yours. What’s mine is mine. What’s yours is mine. What’s mine is yours. What’s mine is mine. What’s yours is mine.   When is the best time to share? Whenever you’re ready. Share what exactly? Your story, your food, whatever it is that belongs to you.   Generous (adjective), willing and happy to give to others.   But what if I give too much? What if I overshare?   I can remember when Twitter first became popularised in the early 2010’s. People just sharing their thoughts. That’s a diary, isn’t it? I could never get the hang of it, no matter how many accounts I made. But now, there’s this weight of what you post must be witty. What you say must count. It’s no longer just sharing random thoughts with friends (at least if you want to go viral). It’s you sharing with people the best part of yourself. Things which you think matter. Well, what if you share and it’s not well received? What if i...