If This Was Up To Me

If this was up to me, I’d spend my life in school. When I say “if this was up to me” I mean, if I had the financial means to do so. I have been “visualizing it” and “calling it into existence” – probably not hard enough or too many people are doing the same and I just have to be patient…

I dream about money coming out of “nowhere”, meeting a generous billionaire who wants to facilitate someone else’s life: mine!

All I want is a house, my own house – two stories with a well lit attic (cause you know I don’t like food smell in my bedroom and I be cooking) – maybe close to a lake (like in that last “this is us” episode) with a beautiful kitchen with a gas stove – where I can host dinners for my family and friends, a place where they can come spend some time away, a peaceful place – close to nature.

I want a car, doesn’t have to be new – just have to be reliable, with a large trunk and good on gaz so I can take road trip if I want to, or get large canvases to my house when I need to.

I want to be debt-free and have enough extra cash to take some leisure trips if I want to or visit my people in France and if someone needs I can give some of that € away.

Also, have access to higher education so I can get the help i want to craft and edit my book.

I want free+great healthcare so I can do my yearly checkups and tune ups when I need to. That’s all- if this was up to me…

Diem Perdidi

written 01/23/2013

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The pesky sound on bald walls bounces, pulling her out

The rabbit hole she would have loved to spend the day.

There he is, striking a pose, majestic and proud,

 

Waiting on her next move, alert, carried away,

Purring louder than cicadas under hot sun.

She acknowledges his presence, so he slips away.

 

Now, her steps he precedes all the way to the kitchen:

Her heart he knows is wrapped around his little paws!

On her bare feet, he jumps, initiating fun…

 

But time is running out and the sun’s heading west

Faster than hungry lions hounding a gazelle.

She does not like her job, though tries to do her best;

 

Ultimately, ends up leafing through her new Elle

Magazine. She doesn’t even read the captions,

Instead studies models’ perfect figures: she dwells. 

 

She yearns to become the center of attention,

Out-of-reach beauty standards set by society,

While deep inside she longs for appreciation

Slowly exasperates deep insecurities.

What is a girl to do among fair goddesses?

Maybe there are details she might have overseen?

Deep down inside there are issues she must address:

Is superficiality more important than

Women’s souls, discounted by the freedom of the press?

 

It’s 5 o’clock: no time to think, just time to thank

The Universe, and forget how imperfect she is.

Gin and tonic tonight will numb her aching brain,

And maybe distract her from things she thinks she missed.

Back home, she lies in bed and snakes between the sheets

Without even undress, in her clothes she will sleep.

She drifts off in second, don’t even count sheep.

Decelerated dive down in her rabbit hole,

Another worthless day: a diem perdidi –

Unable to be claimed nor remembered, that is for sure.

 

#GetYourTeamTogether

You may not fully appreciate your blessings because you are comparing yourself to a team’s efforts to make someone fit a current standard of perfection

You have to recognize you already are pretty wonderful and stand out on your own! You are smart, kind & taste like Meyer lemons meringue tart

Cheer up + #GetYourTeamTogether

©️ Daphné Mia Essiet, 2018

The Sky

Versatile is the Sky
Reflecting my inner desires
Varies in shade and intensity
According if it is noon or midnight

The Night’s passionate indigo
Expects the bright embrace of the pink morning light
Unless the stormy clouds
Start their impetuous fight

Temporarily, that is
Cause we all know that in the end
It will always be
Here, there, everywhere
From any angle of the sphere

©️ Daphne Mia Essiet, 2018

#JustDont


Appearances are somehow misleading.

Most times… What seems great, perfect, enticing, greener on the other side… Is in fact completely rotten.

Somehow, the smell does not bother your asepticized noses, probably because you have been acclimatized to it. Little by little. One passive aggressiveness after the other. F*** That.

Somehow, you feel uncomfortable but you DO NOT want to trust your gut. F*** That.

Don’t let your insecurities get the best of your happiness. Be who you are meant to be and have as much freedom as you can possibly attain being who you are. Don’t let others’ bullshit mess with your spirit, your soul, your aura. F*** that, F*** them.

Remember: you only live once in that body of yours, and who knows who/what you’ll be next lifetime. Enjoy the Freedom you have been granted this time around.

Love like you give a  damn; kiss often (the French way and don’t apologize for it); hug everyday and inspire others by being the best version you claim to be.

Appearances are somehow misleading. Most times… What seems great, perfect, enticing, greener on the other side – just ain’t.. Trust me! Don’t let mofos rain on your parade. #JustDont

With Love.

©️ Daphne Mia Essiet, 2016

#SmallTalk

In any capacity, the type of bonding(s) we are able to generate makes all the difference. From atoms to people, it undoubtedly dictates its architecture, in terms of aesthetics and functionality, hence the strength and length of any relationships.

About #SmallTalk… I recently realized that I really- really – really despise it. I do tolerate a 20-80 ratio, but too much rambling usually bruises my aura and hurts my soul…

Interestingly enough, for a long time, I was unable to pinpoint the reasons why I’d find some people so enticing and others bland. For a long time, I was incapable to tangibly grasp why strong bonds [or lack thereof] were to form between me and [InsertHere] strangers/acquaintances/friends/family members/lovers. Curiosity being my middle name, (I’m an enquirer) as well as my being feisty, newness has always ignited my cravings for debates, arguments and french kissing beautiful lips. (Not necessarily in that order)

I’m passionate about *understanding processes* on how worlds revolve.
I’m passionate about voicing my he[art].
I’m passionate about deep diving.

Isn’t tasting each other souls a potent way to bond?
Isn’t experiencing different flavors an interesting way to discover the depths of our inner-selves?
How else could we, as spiritual entities, blend and connect at a deeper level if not for a genuine desire for comprehension?

Too much #SmallTalk, this tue-l’amour, this charade of word collection – is most definitely lethal to meaningful relationships.

In any capacity, the type(s) of bonding we are able to generates makes all the difference.

Maybe not for everyone… But it does, for me.

#SmallTalk

©️ Daphne Mia Essiet, 2016

Can We All Just Get Along? #PeaceOffering

  

I recently celebrated the 11th anniversary of my arrival in New York. Eleven years, is a long time. Yet, when you meet an 11 year old, you feel as they don’t know much about life and that the best is yet to come.

Of course I miss many things about my mother’s land: my family, my friends, the food… the ease at which one is quick to purchase a weekend in Rome or Budapest, or even New York. The health benefits just to state the obvious, four weeks paid vacation, the month of May… just to state a few…

When I tell people I am French, they look at me dubitatively, and ask why I am here. Like if France, was the most romantic and idyllic place on planet Earth. Well, my dear friend, I guess we always think the grass is greener in other side of the pond, don’t we?

The reality is that my love living here, right now; more specifically, I love the opportunities, to know there are there to grab if you work hard enough. Of course, there are opportunities other places, but for now, here is my home. Will I always love it? I do not know. It’s been only 11 years, and I might change my mind at some point.

Today, I am really comfortable with who I am and represent, and do not feel I shall refrain from comparing or criticizing things or people I find offensive, distasteful or admirable; However, it came to my attention that some of my rants bothered certain people, not because of what I was saying, but because of who I was… which could be understandable, I guess? One might feel attacked, looked upon, dismissed… Maybe I should stop complaining about not being able to find a descent baguette up in here? I mean, it does sound condescending, but perfectly fits the French stereotype I think you have of me, isn’t it right? I am just trying to make you feel comfortable since I refuse to disclose my “race or ethnicity”: now you can put me in a box (smiley face). Here I go again… just joking… not— bygone…

Bottom line, I love it here, and from now on, I think I will try to be a bit more considerate of your feelings people, cause I want us to get along and bond ❤

©️ Daphne Mia Essiet, 2015