Day One

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Four fingernails painted blue; one pink, holding a flower down to take a photograph that I will publish somewhere. That's what I thought for my first image on this very public platform.
I am in my mid twenties, female and Black African, and this is my story.
I want things. I want so many things, I'm scared. I never got most of the things I wanted. Sometimes I feel like Wednesday, the unnoticed day of the week. But I'm no Wednesday, I know. Because I'm firstborn, so I'm a trailblazer by default. But my limits are only close by. None too far.
That's where dreams come in.
I remember when my first journal writing was read out loud in class. The writing was candid, unbiased and because I knew it was only meant for me, it was open, with no bars held. I hope to recreate that openness here even though this is not meant only for me.
The open journal is a new thing for me. But I want good things in life. As they say...
Pia mimi nataka vitu poa in life, etcetera etcetera. - Wakadinali
A lot would change. And in my uncertain world, my sanity was pegged on a lot of things remaining the same.
Of course that never happens in God's world (kwa hii dunia ya Mungu), thus nothing remains the same. No matter how much effort I put to influence otherwise, THINGS CHANGE, inevitably so.
This is my first step.
We all know the advice future writers are given. That if you want to be a writer, then write. That's what I'm doing now.
I would care to point out that I had a plan about what my first article was going to be, but I'm guessing that wouldn't help here. Because it would still sound like I'm rambling. Well, I'm not. But I did have a plan, I really did.

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