This year I lay my hopes in gaining enough courage to join my fellow Rwandans in celebrating the lives of those we lost, and to outwardly acknowledge my mother's death, so I can celebrate her life.
About the last six years, I've been in a serious relationship, I just got married, I got clean off drugs and I started thinking more outwardly about my environment, what's going on around me.
And because my parents outwardly disapproved of my honesty, whether it was about sex or disability or mental illness, I wanted to ensure that all my published writing would remain online.
I'm sick of sitting through painful moments where an older man is outwardly commenting on my appearance or asking questions about my sexual preferences, putting his hand on my leg or lower back, and being told to laugh off revolting advances by someone who could be my grandfather, all because they are a "really good collector".
Outwardly, I do my best to support their swerve toward pragmatism.
My outwardly high S means that if you ask me whether I would like to vacation in Italy or India, I will say Italy, because I've already been there, and I know what it's like.
Then there are the unhelpfully hypocritical parents, anxious to hear about their children's progress and outwardly supportive of my efforts to help them improve, but always slipping in anecdotes about how they were "never any good at maths/spelling/the periodic table/oxbow lakes".
Still ketty, I was overthinking every factor of outwardly appearing like my pants weren't harboring an ass-fugitive.
I'm not acting it outwardly, but in my head I'm, y'know, walking around, high on coffee, humming a fucking clubby electronic tune.
