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I have to stop writing to you like this… in tears

Battling Fear

I think years can be described as the great battles that take place within them. The internal ones with self that lead to personal growth; and the other ones with the World and fate that we have no choice in fighting.

Last year, my great battle was against the fear…


But about Life

This is loosely inspired by John Green’s podcast and book -The Anthropocene Reviewed- where he reviews different facets of the human-centred planet. I want to say the idea for this essay is entirely original but I don’t believe such a thing exists. …


Driving past a dead body on the side of the road was a decidedly pedestrian experience growing up in Lagos. I remember one occasion when I was either 8 or 9; I had broken my left arm for what would be the first of two times in my life. I…


Music: Recommended but not necessary

I wasn't going to write this.

My friends have come to know me as a documentarian. This is exactly the sort of thing I am likely to write about. And I did. For the first week, when I still had a semblance of downtime…


A note about letters

“I’m sorry that all I have to send you is this letter. And I am sorry for all that a letter cannot be. Even the best letter is only just a piece of someone” — The World to Come

I really like letters. This is particularly interesting to me because…


Some of my favourite books are of people who experience the same manifestation of depression/anxiety as I do.

Take the book I finished reading today for instance: Hyperbole and a Half: Unfortunate Situations, Flawed Coping Mechanisms, Mayhem, and Other Things That Happened.

There was a section in the book where…


We’d been together for three years. Three years and a couple of months. On our way to four. Three years and neither of us had said it. There were, of course, times in the first year when I almost said it. The words picked at my lips, bubbling to come…


Disclaimer: I talk frankly about thoughts of dying

For the longest time, I had a hunch that I would die at 27. I don’t remember exactly when I first thought it. At some point in teenagehood, I stopped assuming I’d live to old age and started considering I might die young. Somewhere along the line, that number just…


Photo by Vidal Balielo Jr. from Pexels

I want to get married and have children. Probably not soon, probably not in the next five years. But at some point in time, I hope for these things. I always have. I was raised to want these things but even as an adult, and even as I believe and…


Photo by Binyamin Mellish from Pexels

If my own story felt phony, the second-best way to be authentic was to be close to people whose stories felt real. Wendy had such a story.

The Great Gatsby is one of the more undeniable classic works of fiction. On this list of the best books of all time

Mo Isu

Writing what I can| Being Vulnerable and confused| Making podcasts (inside a bubble)

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