My soulful space

I feel like getting out there. Ah ah, not to meet new people, but to simply just explore. It has been sitting on my mind lately. I even made a folder in my Notes app for the places I would love to visit.

I want to start with Kisumu County and its environs.

This weekend I was supposed to hang out with this cute face. Bummer! It won’t be happening due to valid reasons.

But while we were planning where we’d hang out, I jumped on TikTok and started checking out places in Kisumu. And demwit demwit demwit! Kisumu is actually sooo beautiful. Leave alone the lake and Dunga Beach, please. Kisumu is a beauty and I am not exaggerating.

So technically my FYP registered. And so did my nudge to just get outside and explore.

I know I want to start doing these cute solo trips and solo dates, but before I get there… first I want to start with tiny, cute baby steps. I need a buddy.

And who’d have thought? This is also hard. I mean, finding a buddy. A hangout buddy? A buddy to hang out with. Okay, you get my point.

I genuinely do not know how to do small talk. I respond awkwardly to celebrity gossip because I usually have no idea what to say, okay. I basically couldn’t care less what your favorite influencer is on… give me some real stuff. I wanna know why most of your attempts at relationships usually end at 72 hours into the talking stage.

I’d also love a buddy who’s entirely comfortable with silence. One with whom we could just sit and stare into nothingness and there won’t be any shred of awkwardness or any weird attempts to fill the silence.

But also one who wouldn’t mind my bubbly side, because I have a wild bubbly side that comes out occasionally.

I really want to be outside for real. I am so ready to be outside now. I want to sit somewhere in Malibu Bay, sip a cute cocktail, watch people as they go about their fun. Judge them gracefully in my mind. Admire couples. Tell random strangers that they are genuinely gorgeous and then sit and journal while at Bingo, in the midst of beauty and chaos, on a table made from a boat. I wanna wear my cute crop tops and weirdly baggy pants to Takawiri. I wanna take shots at Hideout. I wanna read a book at some cute resort in Rusinga Island by the lake as I watch the sunset. I wanna carry my gadgets and work in a hidden gem somewhere in Siaya.

I just really want to add beautiful shades of bright colors to my life. I want my last stretch of my twenties to be pure bliss. I’m talking rainbows and glossy because I’ve earned this shit, okay. I’ve done the work.

What I’m trying to say is, I think my spark is back. I even took a selfie yesterday.

Anyway, a friend of mine who happens to be the guy behind my tattoos recently told me that I should get out of my comfort zone and expand my writing. He suggested politics. I told him I couldn’t, even if I tried, because I don’t even have the lingo.

And that’s the thing. I do not write for anything else besides the fulfilment I get from writing. Basically these are simply journals I choose to share with everyone else because I want to come back when I’m 90 and toothless and see what my 25 yearold self was on.

I’ve written about most things I’ve encountered. When I was working at that toxic workplace, I wrote about it. I go back and read my stuff and it’s a wholesome reminder in my gratitude journey. I wrote when I was struggling with a whack self-concept. I wrote about emotional regulation so much until my nervous system clocked it. I wrote about self-validation and now I am in a place where I just don’t care about external validation. My writings hold me accountable.

“But you could just write the stuff you put out in your personal diary.” Yes, you’re right. I know, I promise. But I do a bunch of diary entries… and I also enjoy sharing bits and parts of myself in the form of words with the world. Guys, this is my form of aesthetics. Like how y’all take amazingly beautiful pictures and cute videos of your day-to-day lives? Yes this is my way.

So to my tattoo guy, I don’t write for the metrics, hun. I write for fulfilment. I write to connect with my kindred spirits. I write because this is the only way I get to trauma dump without feeling any form of guilt. I write because writing has healed me. I write because, just like I relate to other people’s beautiful words, I find so much peace and solace in knowing that one or two people get to relate to my words. I respect politics. I just wouldn’t know how to write soulfully about politics. I am not writing here on my space for money… I know where I go to write when I want my writing to pay me.

This is my soulful space. My authentic space. So I won’t niche down. I will write about every fascinating encounter I bump into. I will write about my traumas. I will write about my weirdly awesome friends. I will write about my healing journey. I will write about the things that still trigger me. I will write about my happy experiences, not leaving out the sad ones. I will write about my love life. I will write about the things that broke. I will write about this random human who rang our doorbell in the middle of the night. I will write about a random Tuesday afternoon that felt different. I will write about every small town I visit.

And if politics ever stirs my soul, I’ll make sure to write about it too.

I mean, I will write about everything that stirs me in that moment.

Meanwhile, I hope I find a buddy soon. If I don’t, I hope I find the courage to go on the cute solo dates and trips on my own soon enough.

My twin flame with dreads eventually reached out by the way. See the magic of writing authentically?


Well about my style of writing refer to – https://missinjairu.wordpress.com/2023/07/10/childhood-dream/

Cheers loves.

Author: Miss Injairu

This is my best kept muse. Have fun. View all posts by Miss Injairu