Jed Kimani
Bio
Taking note of the reflective moments in life. When the walls of reality melt down and the essence of time fades away. And all that's left is you and your mind space. I jolt what's in the mind space of my reality.
Stories (4/0)
The Twisted Tale of a Wilted White Rose.
And for the longest of moments, I take a long stare at the ceiling. Dangerous Levels of Introspection by JP Saxe is on repeat, a small black stereo speaker that is incredulously close to my ear carries a warm mellow tune to my voluminous mind. My eyes center at the edge of the ceiling, a part with yellowish concentric circles marking where the rain leaks from the roof. A sudden tire on the corners of my mouth, a smile I have worn since morning. Its 3.30p.m, and the golden tinge of the sun illuminates my silver-threaded shear. The room is filled with bursts of radiance, with floods of scented smoke from the cheap lavender incense sticks burning on the table. I wish I would live in this minute forever.
By Jed Kimaniabout a year ago in Journal
The Twisted Tale of a Wilted White Rose.
I thought I had finally seen it. The end, to all the pressures of existence. Fitting in. I realized something in these few reflective moments of life, that I should have a long time ago. That maybe fitting in wasn't ever an option for those born to stand out. I, however felt it new, this whole new atmosphere of possibilities, opportunities to be me, however, my esteem hadn't yet recovered from the years I was wrapped in self-contempt.
By Jed Kimani2 years ago in Journal
- Top Story - October 2022
The Twisted Tale of a Wilted White Rose.Top Story - October 2022
Fresh. This tabula rasa of its sort was my chance to redeem myself. Show the world, and I, that I had purpose in living. Existing. I had become so much of a survivor, in the previous settling of events, that I had forgotten how much of 'me' I was initially.
By Jed Kimani2 years ago in Journal
