Writing about life, technology, identity, and everything in between. Not everything has to be about code.
When I was a kid in Uganda I didn't see it. The poverty that many of my country mates live with
I don't know what to do with that boy now. He just read a poem with a nightmare running under it and took only the singing, and walked off sure he'd understood the whole thing.
Inside the church, there were formulas. A way to structure the week. A way to pray. A way to date or not date, that someone had already worked out for you.
As a teenager, I could have ended up in all sorts of trouble.
These days I do a strange thing with the good parts of my life. I check them out to feel if they are really real.
I was low-key religious by then. Not properly. I'd started reading the stuff, but I was hanging back
I loved that church. I want to say that first, because what comes next is true at the same time, not instead.
I arrived at Buddo Junior School in the second term.
I've started a couple of blogs. This is the third. The first two are dead, and it's worth talking about why they died, because the reason is actually the whole point of this post.
