Why this blog
Why would I waste time writing while friends are here to listen? Is this secret space even safer than the diary I don’t want to keep? This is not a journal, nor is it a confessional. Did I call it idea keeper, or boredom reliever, it does not make it the place to keep my secrets. A secret garden is different from a garden of secrets. My garden does not hold secrets, it’s one to keep my recettes . In my garden will grow my flower. Once the seeds and soil are united, once some essence is given by nature, it will rise. Slowly, gently. The leaves stretching like yoginis and the petals as defined as my kinky hair, it will grow. Bathed by the smiling sunshine, swaying to the charming sound of poems and stories, it will glow. What a beautiful flower to be! It reminds me of life. I can recall moments of happiness, nappiness ;). There are memorable friendships, the lost ones and the ones that grow stronger. I can’t forget anything that made me Fatou, Ndeye Fatou, ...
