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Musings of the Socially Aware

Akilah. 24. NYC by way of the Queen City. Take your brown eyes, your pretty smile, your silhouette.

WARNING: Do not take this blog too seriously. It is all encompassing of the fleeting thoughts I have, even if they are just momentary. Don't read too far into me.
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Posts tagged "bk"


Everything smells
Like chicken feet
Or cigarette butts
Or cigarette vaginas
I said it.
It smells like shit outside
And I don’t care if this is Bushwick
I did not move to New York City
To be broke
And living in a stink womb.
I did not move to New York City 
For this:
February is hard
February is lonely
Even if you’re not alone.
I recently changed the positioning of my bed in my bedroom to soak up a little more feng-shui. I moved my bed next to the window and it’s actually quite lovely. The first night I slept in the new arrangement, the moon shone light right by my pillow all Fievel in American Tail-like and I thought to myself Ah, yes, this is it.
Then this morning, I woke to the putrid smell of a moist New York beneath an unhealthily depressing grey sky, and an article in the Huffington Post prizing our little NYC as the 10th most miserable city in America. 
Great. Happy Saturday. Congratulations. You pay too much for rent, too much for your career, and too much for f*ing peanut butter — all so that a “journalism-sort-of” news site can tell you that you brought this upon yourself.
And yeah, okay. At least it’s not Detroit. And people talk about this all the time. Blahblahblahblah, new york  is like an abusive boyfriend,
Blahblahblahblah, it’s a love-hate relationship, blahblahblahblah, blah blah blah. 
My question is, WHY? No but really, why are we doing this to ourselves? And this is coming from someone who absolutely loves this city. I love everything about it including, I admit, the misery. I promote this city like it is some neat and unheard of dive bar with the best tater tots a human has ever tasted. But the reality is, there are hundreds and thousands of cities that
did not make that top 10 list of miserable cities to live in. There are cities and towns with trees and blue skies and birds and people are happy and everybody is eating bagels and nobody is vegan or on a gluten-free diet. There are cities where more risks are being taken with art and music and performance and more space is available to actualize creative ideas. There are places where TIME is an actual thing that people have. Time to make art to make love to make dinner, even.
There is no punch line to this post. And no, I am not moving to LA. I will continue to consider New York my home. But on this glum-drum Saturday, I just ask you, O reader, to consider a bit. And maybe let’s like, change the world, or paint some cool shit, or like join a food co-op or something and make New York worth living in despite the financial woes, polluted streets and…well…homicide rates. Til then, I leave you with this:

This post is everything. Although, I’m making it a mid-year resolution to fall back in love with this city, damn it.









I’ve been pretty much AWOL the past week or two because of some majorly unexpected life shifts. If I can give you any advice for your 20s, it’s to never get too comfortable. Things can change overnight and you’ll have to be ready to adapt! Blech, enough with being cryptic.


-Realized just how much I inhabit the same wavelength as my friend, Nessa, who took beautiful pictures of me during her stay in NYC.

-I saw the cutest Pomeranian staying warm in front of this heated area in front of a bodega. 

-I had the pleasure of meeting up with a friend from high school at the Bengals bar in the Lower East Side. The Bengals won! Who-Dey.

-Took a walk around Brooklyn, and noticed that (A) the street art here is beautiful and (B) it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

All the love,



1. Watching leaves grow up and take on their new golden color in the crisper Fall air.

2. Spying on puppy dogs from coffee shop windows too early on Saturday mornings.

3. Hanging out with amazingly talented rappers on bohemian couches at friendly apartments.

4 & 5. Celebrating Brittany’s Dogtoberfest to help her raise money for the ASPCA when she runs the Disney marathon this January.

6. Seeing the contrasting-haired Brittanys together at the festive event. Too much laughing, and smiling ensued.

7. Seeing beautiful Lexi’s beautiful model face (never often enough). 

8. Caturday is every day.

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This is what Hurricane Sandy was like in my corner of Brooklyn, NYC.


The moment I moved to Clinton Hill in Brooklyn, everyone was telling me about the great things to do right down the street. That’s part of the charm of Brooklyn, you are in walking distance from great little shops and eateries all the time.

Well the first place that anyone mentioned was Dough Doughnuts. They raved to me about it! “It’s Zagat rated!!!” I didn’t even know what Zagat was, but I’m now absolutely certain it’s a high honor.

Dough makes fresh donuts, EVERY SINGLE DAY. Probably starting at 4 a.m. through close at 7p.m. They have new unique flavors that are rarely associated with donuts. Just look:

The space is small, with only 2-4 seats, so it’s kind of a grab and go establishment. But it’s really the industrial/warehouse/open feeling that makes the place. There is definitely an experience that it provides that screams “YOU’RE IN BROOKLYN OKAY. WE’RE TOO HIP TO FUNCTION.”

I bought the Dulce De Leche for my friend, Brittany, and I got the Cinnamon Sugar one for myself! The donuts are huge, even for my big mouth, and one is more than enough.

So now that I’ve past on my raving, it’s safe to say that I totally recommend this place and if you end up in Brooklyn, you must make an effort to stop in!

So it’s a super rainy morning in NYC. Can I tell you that I stood on my stoop in Brooklyn for no less than 2 minutes contemplating if I really needed an umbrella? Well I did, and I decided that I did not, in fact, need an umbrella.

I was wrong.

The great thing, though, is that once you’re caught in the rain, it doesn’t seem so bad. It’s like the anticipation on a rollercoaster where you think you might actually die at the drop, and when it’s over, you can only think how silly it was to be apprehensive in the first place.

And can we just agree that I’m a total creeper and should start a blog called “the back of NYC” because I’m really good at not asking people to take their pictures and just getting their backs? But come on, she had a cool umbrella and it was raining—would you have stopped?