Uchenna, Writer, Engineering Student

Thursday, April 3, 2025

Kicking

art by GDBee

Do you ever take a really deep breath, just to make sure you still can? It's one of the ways I remind myself I'm still alive. Still kicking. I always wondered why people said that, "Still kicking." It's always said so dryly, as if there's a better alternative to literally being alive. Funnily enough, the alternative is to kick the bucket. I did a bit of research and it refers to the notion of when you stand on a bucket to hang yourself, you kick it to finish the job. So in a way, "kicking it" is an odd way of saying you haven't finished the job yet. I guess that makes sense. But it doesn't really explain why people say it.

When I think of that phrase, I usually imagine an older person. Looking off into the distance, with bitterness on their face. "Still kicking." Usually a telltale of a someone mentally removed from their youth. A little too comfortable in their mortality. As older people tend to be. All of my grandparents have always been very casual with the idea of their impending deaths. They had all already passed 50 before I was born, and the ones who remain spend their days in a quiet routine. Praying and celebrating with the time they have left. I've never heard "still kicking" from their mouths exactly, but I doubt that's a common phrase in Nigeria. Instead, I've heard "still standing" or "still active" or some Igbo idiom teaching me to cherish my elders. There is no doubt gratefulness in them for the years they've been granted. But on some level, they acknowledge their time is done. They've shifted from hard working providers to cared for spectators in their families, waiting out the gift of time. 

Out of all the gifts I've ever received, time is most definitely the oddest one. It's miraculous how it even got into my hands in the first place. So many variants of my being have fought to get here, so how I won is a mystery for the universe. I wish this fact made me grateful for it, but as much as I say I am, I really don't act like it. I've spent so much of my life wishing for redos or reverses or backtracks. Which is so odd. I'm 20 years old. There's at least a good 50 years ahead of me yet I feel so deep into life already. It's so hard, reminding myself that there is so much left for me still. The love that feels like the end of the world today, won't even hold a candle to the love I'll feel tomorrow.

You know I started this blog when I was 14. I would've thrown a fit if I saw how my life would be in 6 years. I hated science in middle school and wanted to become a full time writer. Seeing as I just failed an exam for linear circuits and systems, that didn't happen. And In a really weird way, I hope that my life at 26 makes me throw a fit too. I hope my mindsets change. I hope my circle grows. I hope my body grows. My skills change. My interests shift. My focus narrows. Because well, that's all you can do.

Tuesday, March 25, 2025

Short Film Review: Bent Out Of Shape



I used to do these all the time. Let's get it. :3

Bent Out Of Shape

So the story starts off with a seemingly uniform neighborhood. A whole bunch of squares everywhere. A square woman and her kid are sitting on the porch when a circle girl moves in. She looks like a Sally to me so I'll call her Sally. Sally brings color to everything and rounds out everything. Right off the bat, I'm loving the visual metaphors. The Square Mom is very aversive to Sally, which is very understandable seeing as she basically infected the square girl. Also she tried to shake with her left hand. Back in my village, she basically just declared war. 

Anyways, Sally continues trying to get in with the square people. Square Mom is not having it. But the kid is curious, and also miserable. They have a bike with square wheels, of course she wants to meet the round girl. After one really close call where the kid starts literally transforming, Square Mom builds a fence. While I understand the metaphor at play, I'd do the same thing as a mom. Because what do you mean my child touched you and is now going through metamorphosis. 

So Square Girl doesn't listen. She climbs over the fence and now everyone is round. Hooray! 

This is actually a pretty tame start to use to continue these. I don't really see a deeper message except to just be open to new things. It was quite enjoyable and the colors are pretty. 6/10.

Monday, March 24, 2025

Whore

Yesterday, while on break--

from pitying myself--

I saw a note. For a date.

An address. "Don't be late."

So today, I called off

and dolled my best doll

and saw myself through the gates.

I walk in, lights dim. 

The rose bushes, trimmed. 

For a second, I almost felt safe.

I'm quick to undress.

Faster than the rest.

Honestly, I don't know why.

I bare my spirit for yours,

hoping that for sure,

your heart, on mine, you'd place.

I stand there, naked,

waiting, faded--

there's always a chance that you'll flake.

"Whore," your tongue whips.

Every inch of me--flinch.

And you tear your gaze away.

I scrunch at my rolls,

my trauma, my soils.

I dumped it all in hopes you'd erase.

Slowly I accept 

that you'll never undress

and I'll never see more than your face.

So I carry my soul

and I idle alone,

looking around just in case.

All I want is to be seen,

and to equally see,

so then a whore, a whore I must be.