To whoever was misfortunate enough to stumble upon this agony-inflicting, masochistic, Ill-fated, politically incorrect piece of literature that would, in the 19^th Century be banned following a public purge of the writer on scaffold (I’m a Kenyan woman so they would probably just double up my cotton-picking time and oh boy would the biceps on my fingers glaze in sexiness and appeal) Enough of that, you are already here and you cannot stop, not right now at least. Welcome to the circus show, one of my many public displays of self-deprecation where I mostly just sum up my year and make it publicly known that I did not in fact achieve all my yearly goals.

This would occasionally end up on WP where a few intimate people will see and once in a while, probably in June someone will make a comment that will send me in a month-long piss contest with a stranger on the internet. In honor of finally having an active Substack account this year, which was not even on my list (I should definitely add it so I can cross it out) I have decided that I am putting this piece out here.

This is a thanks giving piece, a wrapped if you will. One of the three that I started on ’22 when my spirit was young; I was naïve, pubescent even, ignorant of the burden I was bestowing on my future self when I made the promise to keep documenting every year. As you can tell my dearest reader the agony is already manifesting in this wretched quest to self-gratification.

Let’s get into it!

For the purpose of context, I will let you in on the irony of ’25. When I started this compilation in ’22, it was so exciting. Not just the writing, the publishing and the time I spent re-reading it in the next year but the mere fact that I was starting a sort of franchise which when read together will sort of show immense growth in words, achievements etc. It felt like I was engineering a time machine. ’23 took a terrible turn on me, the piece I put out was so satirical that I almost got a feature from Chandler Bing, only he died. Everything took a positive turn in ’24 and the piece was gleaming in optimism; it was like watching the resurrection of Jesus in a 480p film from 2001. It was fantastic and it felt like I would never have to battle it out like I did in ’23. From the way I saw it, I would never experience a year as bad as ’23 little did I know anything, literally anything guys, can happen in the year of possibilities, 2025. It’s actually so comical how despite the terrible bits about this year (which are a lot) I have seen/experienced stuff I never knew would be logically, scientifically, pop-culturally possible, I mean damn- it was like open season for fuckshit.

A short run through of the fuckshit open season of the year of possibilities, 2025. Writer’s lens.

1. My couch got drenched in human urine and bleach and this was not a science experiment gone wrong.

2. I got involved in domestic violence between two lesbians and almost got arrested after playing mediator. Rumor has it, they are still on the hunt for me and my compadres.

3. I slurped a noodle from the kitchen drain without knowing, be vary careful with who handles your food or rather handle it yourself.

4. I got a stalker on Instagram who I believe was mentally unstable enough to forcefully make himself my sub. This did not in fact end well as you may assume.

5. I chocked on an Ice cube and answered the long un-answered question, ‘if you chock on an ice cube what evidence will forensics have on your death,’ I believe the answer is you have to be a different kind of weak to chock to death on an ice cube.

6. My brain fertilized itself and birthed not just a tumor but a literal duplicate of itself that became its alternate version when I got really high and decided to watch The passion of Christ (One of the many reasons why I am like so)

Now pessimism aside, this year of possibilities started off pretty okay honestly. January was amazing. Okay that’s a bit of a stretch- January was like driving at 60kmph, perfectly normal, not too fast and not too slow for you to doze off on the wheel and run over a blind person or, you are so going to hate me for this but, one of those handicapped people that are supposed to be on wheel chairs but aren’t. Okay let me make this worse for myself and set the imagery clear for you- only because I deeply care. I was driving back home with my folks this month (December) and this guy who was all alone on Mombasa Road was crawling to cross the highway and here’s the strange thing, his legs were decapitated. Now that’s the kind of person you wouldn’t want to run over while sleeping on the wheel. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, the month was pretty chill.

My only resolution in January was to overwork my Spotify and try to build better stats than the ones I got last year, you know just like every other person. I am glad to say that it paid off although February was my best listening year, there’s just something about being single on valentines and having a Spotify subscription that goes hand in hand because this was my exact same verdict last year. Don’t be fooled folks, I’m only ever single in February. And December. And sometimes June but only because it’s my birthday month and I can’t have my SO fucking shit up for me. June also importantly happens to be the budget reading month in my country, for some reason I have to be angry enough not to sustain a relationship. April is also quite a tough month to be in a relationship in, my April fools theatrics go out of hand, that’s all I can say. September might be heavy because for some reason its everyone’s birthday and I just can’t get so into this, its one of those months where you just find out. Well, my point is, sustaining a happy, healthy relationship has never been an issue for me

Now February was merely interesting. I took writing to another level and I found myself in a real-life version of Ruby sparks and a little bit of Stranger than Fiction. I won’t get into detail with this but I had to have a deep conversation with myself about intellectual property when my victim used a picture of me on a Spotify playlist. Now this sounds really harmless until you see the guy’s Spotify- 90% of his Spotify playlists were dedicated to a bunch of girls he’d interacted with. I don’t know If the treasury met a certain criterion or not, like did every single girl who made it end things with him through an insulting work of fiction that was nothing but complete fiction. I also had to do immense self-reflection; I stood in front of my mirror and I asked myself, so you are on a public roster huh? Now I had a hard time answering- was this a good or bad thing? I guess I spent most part of February fighting for my Intellectual property rights which were, as I later on discovered, nonexistent (I got my picture taken down though, one word- Blackmail, actually two words, I HATE COMPUND NOUNS). I also got flowers on Valentines Day from my friend; it was her birthday. Irony aside, this was the moment when I decided to get myself flowers every month through the rest of the year and I have. I am incredibly happy about that because I received over 10 flower bouquets this year and most of them were from me.

January-March was my book reading period where I went on a decent streak. This wasn’t my biggest reading year, I read more books last year and I had a goal for at least 10 books, I must have been pretty smug about myself to set that down. I only made 7 reads this year:

Books read in the year of possibilities, 2025. Books are in the order of favorite to least favorite.

1. Poor Things- Alasdair Gray- 1992

2. Giovanni’s Room- James Baldwin- 1956

3. The Bluest Eye- Toni Morrison- 1970

4. Of Love and Other Demons- Gracia Marquez- 1994

5. Carmilla- Sheridan Le Fanu- 1872

6. The Luciferian Path & The Witches Sabbat- Michael W. Ford- 2017 (Initially published, 1999)

7. The ways of the lonely ones- Manly P. Hall- 1925

Before I start to stroke my own dick about how much I loved these reads, I’d like to put it out there just for the sake of- honestly, I’m not so sure why. The sixth read was purely out of curiosity and its more inclined into philosophy than the title leads you to believe, it was a bummer even for me. I guess I have next year to really get into satanism. When Poor things premiered in ‘23, I remember watching the trailers and anticipating the HD release on my pirate sites (Oh go to hell if you judged me you consumerist machine), I knew the film was going to be absolutely nuts and I was right- this was my favorite film in ’24 only, I could feel something missing so after my rewatch in ’25 I remember listening to the dialogues between Mr. Astley and Hanna and realizing that the dialogue can only be from a book and you can imagine what I did next, I pirated a copy of Poor things-now as a writer I don’t know what to say about this, as a matter of fact I just erected my body on a pedestal for public disapproval. I deserve rotten tomatoes on my face.

Poor things was my favorite read this year because of the way the story uses its humor, the cool images on the premise of every chapter, its brilliant build up on sci-fi (We can only thank God for the queen of Sci-fi, Mary Shelly who I assume paved way for books steered towards mutants and body horror. What I loved most about the book was the ending. I wont spoil it for anyone but It was a brilliant ending, one not even employed in the film.

Giovanni’s room is the most romantic thing I have read in a while and that’s why it made it to #2 (I have a knack for gay romance, I just can’t help myself- But of course I acknowledge that the book was more political than romantic, critics stay the fuck away from me. Actually...critics, find me). The Bluest eye is the one book I was obsessed enough to review I can’t wait to read Sula and Beloved. Best gothic read this year goes to Of Love and Other demons which is a little questionable but quite romantic

Despite not reading much this year, I did a lot of writing especially in the second half of the year when I decided to join Substack. I had Substack a couple of years ago as a reader and honestly, I used to read people’s beautifully crafted think pieces back when they weren’t so demonized and I genuinely used to get so intimidated. It would never even cross my mind- airing anything out on here. I pushed myself this year, I did a lot of fiction, dipped my toes in horror and the grotesque, did some research papers and decided that I wasn’t ready to send anything out for publication this year. When I said this year was absolute shit for me, if it wasn’t for immersing myself in my own little world of fiction, I doubt Id have survived most days when I was pushed beyond my limits. My personal favorite piece by me this year is ‘21^st Century Anachronism’ which I edited to ‘Existential? In this Generation?’ The reason why I love it so much is because this has been the only thing I have written that has been so particular when it comes to summing up my anger towards…stuff. Re-reading it feels like I am reading the lyrics of a punk rock song.

I turned twenty-three at the back seat of a cab on Mombasa Road. I was drunk as shit when it happened and I remember looking at my phone to check the time as it dawned on me. I can safely say my year went to shit since that day. For the better part of this year I:

1. Spent so much time burning candles and incense as soft jazz played on the background

2. Sat in café’s as I played music, scribbling on my notepad, tapping my feet, gleaming in satisfaction.

3. Gotten shitfaced with my friends.

4. Met really cool individuals (One of these folks happens to be a guy I met at my infamous liquor store that’s a few minutes from my place- My friend and I are picking up another bottle of liquor and a couple of cigarettes. The guy is standing by the store silently smoking his fag. I ask for a light and he watches me light it and once I hit, he asks, ‘Last one?’ I laugh and say yes. He says, ‘Me too, since 1996’

5. Visited a lot of new places

6. Graduated – This was so good and I am so proud of myself

7. Finally decided what I want to do with my life- Ill talk about this towards the end.

8. Laughed a great deal, even when I didn’t have to.

9. Pulled a lot of pranks – I think I went too far when I forgot to ‘sike’ one of my buddies who was led to believe that I was dead for about a month.

10. Talked to the love of my life that most people think is a person I curated in my head to help me deal with my fears, on some Shutter Island shit but he is real though- hence the reference

11. Played sims a lot

12. Discovered a lot of cool songs.

13. Went to the cinema alone – a lot and I discovered that you should probably sit through premiers if you are going solo unless you are so tuff and grounded.

14. Fought a 180-pound man (verbally) (From a cross the balcony railings)

15. Got insane additions to my closet (mostly thrift- If you see a crazy lady scouring, throwing fits/fists at the thrift store that might probably be me or my soon to be nemesis- if I don’t already know them)

What made this year really difficult for me especially through the last half can honestly be blamed on growth. I was forcefully being uprooted by life from my comfort zone, forced to confront so many realities. I have never had an experience like this before where its back-to-back no lube sex from the universe and I had so many moments where I kept falling and it got to a point where I forgot to pick myself up, realized that I was at my lowest but I am insanely grateful that I got out of it. I am so glad that I have people I could always count on to help me get back up- make sure you have people like that in your corner. I mean I know it sounds pretty obvious that you need your friends to pick you up but I couldn’t hit up just anyone.

I realize now that I am being backed into a wall and I need to confront my shit and I am already doing that. If anything- this year made me really strong and fearless. I was also very shocked at the number of friends I lost this year at a simultaneous rate. Someone told me that It was my frontal lobe developing; that I was becoming mature enough to know what is for me and what’s not and I have been wondering what was I before? A retard? Anyway, the destructive second half of the year of possibilities was breezy. It was like being sad and alone on the beach and obviously, in my case with a couple of cigarettes and a Lorde song playing in the background as I constantly uttered, ‘What was that?’ I cried a lot, secluded myself which honestly felt very right for me and I spent an insane amount of time in my head. I noticed that it was getting out of hand when I cracked a joke in my head once in public and I started laughing at it. During this time as I mentioned, I spent a good deal talking to one of my favorite people and I noticed the hope silently growing within me.

I don’t want to say what it is, not because it will get jinxed or whatever but I have finally realized what I want to do with myself and I am happy to say that it does not include hiding in the trunk of a car about to be compressed by an automobile compactor. I haven’t really gotten the whole gist but I can safely say that I have direction as to where I start. I am pretty confident in myself because I know there is no path that I can take that’s subjectively wrong. What I am looking forward to next year is happiness and satisfaction, not just as a destination but a consistently occurring phenomenon throughout my journey; I know I can’t be buzzing all through the year I’m just hoping that I will find joy in big, small, inutile or major occurrences.

Final list of more random things that occurred in the year of possibilities

1. Got blocked by Nescafe on twitter

2. Got very close to astral projecting, actually I might have done it. Turns out that my cat is my anchor.

3. Spent time with my grandma while she was tripping on fent after surgery.

4. Actively watched my pops get his karma when he tripped and fell on his back moments after shouting at me for driving like a retard.

5. Stopped someone from jumping across the balcony

6. Educated at least 10+ men this year, when I was drunk about women’s rights and the ongoing femicide. I am fun at the club (they absolutely hated it)

7. Wrote down a great deal of my peculiar dreams only to unlock a pattern

8. Had two people talk to their therapists about me- now this, ladies and gentlemen, is perhaps one of my favorites.

9. Created a new chemical substance in my fridge. I will not get into this due to legal reasons and patent rights (not yet acquired…op- TMI)

To whoever was brave enough to stay through the end I am really proud of you, I always believed in you, what is your sexuality?

I also want to finish off on your chest, right in your big heart. I want to say that no matter how hard it gets (guys I am really sorry I am on my period and this is all uncontrollably impulsive like God’s work) you can always pick yourself up, there is always something, anything and If there isn’t go out to Naivas or Quickmart, go to the meat section and stand there for a while and take it all in.

Never give up on yourself- Ghandi

(Okay Ghandi didn’t say that. I did. and so what? I am not bulimic and or famous. I also can’t rock a dhoti BUT – I’ve got nothing)

Merry Christmas and happy new year folks, also do something about Kwanzaa.