Osame Osayande > Recent Status Updates

And these men, walking toward him in a group, with crinkly hair and skin which is not quite white but surely is not black? They had sullen, unhappy, angry eyes, eyes Simeon knew from the streets of Harlem. Baggy pants, worn shoes and shabby shirts. They glanced at Simeon unsmiling, and something strangely like recognition passed between him and them. Then they went on by him and disappeared.

Fighting the stone face, Simeon learns, is not simply a matter of defending one's own people, and sometimes requires actively breaking with them. By the end of the novel, he has repudiated
"racial" loyalty to his black American brethren in favor of a more dangerous solidarity with Algerian rebels.

seemingly omnipresent but stick stuck in her physical world of blood, pain, heartbreak and suicide we the readers explore the authors “blob” of thoughts that race, slow down, and move forward and back between different memories, times and places in her life. the book proves to be written by a skilled authors for a eye for well crafted prose, but ultimately not my thing.

I already had a degree! "Yeah, a degree in sitting on the couch all day twiddling your thumbs."

What sense is there in preparing the body for death seconds before it arrives? Like love, death catches the body. So let it be caught unawares.

Suffering is incressingly equated with poor mental health and we seem to have given up the right to be both mentally healthy and desperately unhappy at the same time

"I'll give you treasure chests full of gold pieces, I know the value of spending time with you.