Born in the nature isle of the Caribbean, Dominica, raised in the tranquil village of Petite Savanne is the lenient, charming Miss Guiste, born in a middle class home raised on what money can’t buy, instilled morale’s and respect brought on by parents. She considers herself blessed, being born in a family of talented people. Her father a natural folklore teller, a mother whose hands weaved tapestry, brothers who wrote books,painted,sewed their own clothes and founded their own radio station who was renowned back in the 90’s, moreover sisters who cooked better than any Italian chef, and who were also actors.
Laurna Guiste is a writer/poet by nature, discovered this talent at elementary school, further recognized by English teachers in high school. She has always had a wide imagination and finds fondness in creating characters, painting a picture with words. Gift laid dormant through her years in college though, and she gave prominence to more practical studies like business since writing in her country yielded no great benefits. This dream of becoming an author was to be buried but soon resurrected in the year 2014,with the aid of God and two other creative/ great minds the 7 Clique Movement group was founded.
Laurna also known as Laurns aim is to flow in writing change hearts and touch lives,encourage peeps especially young people and women to flow in their God given talent.God bless.
Women hold grudges,years pass by and we hold unto it closer than we hug our best friends..
She hated work ,Alice felt like she was being haunted by all her past lovers as she wore insecurity as a daily garment,worn in rag like attire,not pretty at all,rather uncomfortable. She often felt embarrassed that others could see its dirty edges beneath her formal wear and most likely they did.
Alice had many boyfriends or guys she got close to,flirted with foreplay which ended before she even knew she was in a game of being heart broken. She felt prey to many situation ships and it added to her grotesque robe of pity and hatred.
Alice couldn’t bear seeing her exes lovers or girlfriends as she often compared her self to them living her incomplete and unhappy. Life seemed to be cruel to Alice as she began seeing them more often.
She felt life was unfair as they seemed to be on every road she strutted upon,at every corner,she felt the envy at every meeting,the long,hard stares,the awkward silence,the gazes,she felt they knew her stories because she was stupid enough to share them with him.
Alice was like many women creating her own monsters in her head,fighting her existence,trying to prove herself to her allies that she too was worthy. Jealousy choked her like a heavy bead necklace she couldn’t dare rest at the dressing table before bed at night.
She compared her curves,her eyes,her hands,lips to hers,her reflection in the mirror was never kind as she thought he’d always prefer hers.
Alice was living a lie,sealed in a shell of self deception as she held unto something that was no longer in her grip. She had to fight off the demon of her insecurity and be grounded in who she is and love that person fiercely.
Alice owed it to herself to let go, move on,be strong and be free from comparisons and be and LOVE her individual self as God would desire her too.
Pops Restaurant is situated in the heart of the primary town of Dominica,Roseau. A cozy little restaurant with an american theme,modern architecture with red drapes at the windows onlooking into the streets. I step in and feel quite welcomed.
Greeted by the staff at the counter after I scrolled through the offered menu i decided on the “Grand Slam” an all inclusive big breakfast pf champions just to be informed that they do not have eggs or sausages. i frowned and ordered- bacon,buttered toast,pancakes and iced tea.
My appetite dances and is highly anticipating of the meal it is about to receive,which my palates are already thankful for. I am served within 15 minutes but i stare in disbelief as the young waitress brings a white Styrofoam container to my table along with a plastic fork in a white napkin. I opened the container to find my ordered breakfast squeezed together,toast, pancakes and bacon all over each other. The iced tea was also in a Styrofoam cup. I did not understand the reason for having such cheap table wear at an upscale looking restaurant. I did expect silverware folks and a knife please,a glass and a porclein plate at least,I did say I was going to stay in the restaurant to eat it and not take it home with me.I also had to wait to use the syrup as it was being passed around.
Nonetheless I took a bite and to my horror the pancakes were bitter,the bacon was salty and the iced tea could have taken more sugar. The only palatable item was the buttered toast. Forced to tear through the bacon and pancakes with my hands since i was not given a knife. I placed my focus elsewhere to escape this torture i placed upon myself. To add insult to injury two young boys entered the restaurant for tea and were very loud and obnoxious, laughing very loudly without stopping and refusing the waitresses demand to step outside or be quiet.
I emitted that place before I could see how long they could keep up with their lack of discipline
That restaurant was not what I expected and fell below expectations in several areas. The ambiance is good but the food doesn’t fall through with what is surmised.
It’s Friday and I’m leaving the office,stepping over the noises of the familiar voices I’ve been hearing all week. My bag is heavy on my side,it holds my lap top and my makeup i have my lunch bag in my hand,I sigh it’s been a long week,but a good one.
I’ts a carnival weekend,a festive one,a season where women get excused for dressing up and parading the streets with next to nothing on. A weekend of anticipated drunkenness and reveling the streets. But I’m stepping out just thankful it’s another TGIF,a phrase that’s being trended all over the world today and yes I’m thankful.
Before I could get hold of the door,he stops me,or I stop him,he says he hates me for always leaving without saying good bye,I smile and turn to face him and tapping him on the shoulder “Oh I forgot to tell you,be safe this weekend,don’t drink and drive”
“Again” he corrects me
“Again”now a crowd is forming,more of my co workers are leaving.His eyes never leaves me,I smile”Good bye Sam”
I make my way towards Cat Cafe on King George the fifth Street,this small, rustic restaurant that sells crepes and coffee. I know the owner,she’s french,I actually liked to work there. Now it’s just where I hang occasionally,I order the Cat Cafe,the coffee with the white frosting on top,sprinkled with cinnamon. I breathe in deeply,
Sitting at home, reminiscing my brother’s great work and poetry and how much he loved to write, he would wake in the middle of the night, with a phrase or thought and placing it together the next day. Like sewing stitches of words, Staying hours and days placing haikus and finding the perfect rhythm, poetry was my brother’s playground and he knew it well.
His love for the arts, Shakespear, accolards, Derek Walcot, Myer Angelou, all the greats whom he emulated, the way he spoke of their work in such great admiration.
I don’t believe he knew just how much I admired him and wanted to write a quarter of how great he wrote, he inspired the very passion out of me. I can humbly admit he was my biggest fan and I pursued writing because he made it sound like a world of adventure and indeed it is. I remembered when I was about ten years old, I wrote stories just so he could read it over and over and give his feedback and he would always be impressed and would boast that there was something about my writing that just stood out. His words of encouragement were so valuable because they came from someone whom I considered a pro at the art of writing.
I followed the path of writing because he led the way, he decked the walls of literacy with words that popped out at you and ignited your imagination, his words and works created a world I was born in but didn’t yet discover, and I am glad he embarked on the path.
When I lost my brother during Tropical Storm Ericka in 2016,I felt that the artistic part of me sort of died too, with him being gone I felt no one was left to guide or inspire me. I believe one of his purposes was to help me to crawl, maybe stand and now it’s up to me to walk. No one can get me to the other side but me.
When I won the Outstanding Youth in Literary Arts award in 2016 I felt he deserved that, it was all him and I did dedicate it to his humble heart and amazing existence.
My brother David was my muse and as he’s gone I realize that he can’t be replaced but I know he would want me to continue writing. I know his legacy is intended to live on through me and I pray that I won’t disappoint and that as he did I will find inspiration through all things. I will not quit or keep making excuses; I will give fan to the flames which he started.
In his hand I became a pistel, cold, lucid, lethal and deadly, I was whatever he wanted me to be, I was a crayon being crushed in the art of love making, being brewed in his cup of tea, becoming empty as he poured all of me, in the process I lost my identity and became bitter, wounded, like a battered tree,
Misused and abused I lost my leaves in each passing season, every weather left me cold and tear drops were normal. The weakness between my legs made me miss his company, miss his scent as lay next to me, that tiny moment I felt wanted, and felt maybe he would change and love me.
Months turned to years and we are still fighting, arguing over spilled milk, because they reminded him of her breast, the scent reminds him of his mother, as he laid on her chest and instead of feeding him, she poisoned his childhood, told him he would be no good, and her bitterness has carved him into the man who doesn’t know how to treat a woman.
His actions molded by his past, trying to fight to be better but instead he becomes bitter and full of hate, me trying to relate but falling short, because I am used to being loved and in the end we are both left broken.
I hope I’m not too late in wishing my readers and fellow bloggers a Happy and prosperous New Year..I have been busy procrastinating to say the least. I will be honest with you,it has been a while since I’ve written and as usual a lot has happened since then. But my blog site has always been in my mind and heart and my thoughts are always on here thinking of my next,new post. I have not written in here but that doesn’t mean I have stopped writing,doodling in note pads,pieces of paper all over my house. Truly, I may have gotten lazy but I will never cease to write,I will forever love this gift of writing and will forever hope to inspire. So Happy 2018 and I hope the year started off well for you and that many of you are still at your New Years resolutions and wont give up on them by next month and more than that kudos to those who are just continuing on the projects they started last year and bringing them to fruition or higher heights.
Last year My country experienced a category 5 Hurricane,Hurricane Maria,one which took many lives and homes,hopefully this time I didn’t suffer such a loss but it was like dejai vous since I’ve already gone through similar catastrophe,one that forced me to vacate my home in the summer of 2016. My place of residence has been different for almost three years now and without the presence of my brother home has been and felt different too.(That’s another blog). But yes my country Dominica,is currently under reconstruction,trying to stand after she was brought to her knees,the healing has been slow but steady. Many people are still without homes,jobs and still grieving loved ones.
Hence,one word that sums up my 2017 is Grateful, I am forever grateful for life,my family,my present home and for every blessed day and thing i have been given. For every moment we live and breathe is a blessing for tomorrow is not promised.
I do not know what 2018 holds but I know God holds my 2018 and His word says don’t worry about tomorrow because He is in control.
So, I did not write down many resolutions per say but I do desire to acquire greater discipline in finishing things I start,stop living in the past,stop comparing my journey/life with others,be focused and avoid distractions. I hope we as writers/bloggers write and blog more this year and truly inspire others to be their best selves and live their best lives. From one blogger to another,let’s blog shall we?
Have you guys heard of the military diet? It’s this THREE day diet plan where you practically starve yourself for three days and you’re suppose to lose ten pounds in that one week. I know it sounds crazy but when you feel too tired to work out and green teas have not been working and you’re desperate to shed those extra pounds and I mean desperate you do about almost anything.
Well, I first heard about the plan from a co worker of mine and she was telling me how it entails of eating bout( 5 )five crackers, one slice of bread, coffee with no sugar and some other light weight stuff. She said it was working for her and her stomach had gotten flat, she did look a bit smaller in my eyes so I did decide to try it out.
The first time I tried it out was due to the encouragements of a co worker, she said it worked for some people and just like me was she was desperate, day ones breakfast consists of half a grapefruit, one slice bread with peanut butter, one boil egg and coffee with no sugar, as tasteless as it was I did it, and there were days I cheated and ate other things and in one week I lost about 5 bounds. My boyfriend told me that was water weight and I hadn’t really lost anything. Regardless it was something to me and as much as I was glad about tha,t those three days were miserable. I was weak, fatigue,my sugar went too low and I almost blacked out.
Not too long after I heard my co worker fainted and she went on sick leave for weeks, omg did we almost kill ourselves over some get slim quick nonsense. I don’t care if I had lost the weight if I had followed evrthing but its obvious the body isn’t getting sufficient nutrients from that diet,to me it seems hazardous.
So from my experience it appears you may lose the weight but its through starvation and you could end up in the hospital so I wouldn’t recommend this for anyone.
I am still on my weight loss journey and that was a learning experience, today im looking at healthier, smarter and tastier choices on loosing weight. Stay tuned with my next post to see the next diet plan I tried.
Two years now since I’ve been natural and its been a bitter sweet experience. I did the big chop and I texturized my hair because I thought it would be more manageable.
I didn’t quite embrace my natural hair at first,I would texturize it because it was so short and I didn’t know how to handle it.
I decided to go back natural because I was fed up of the relaxers who did more harm than good. My hair was breaking badly,the color had changed from black to brown and I couldn’t wet my hair as freely as I wished without me looking like a stray cat. I wanted freedom and relaxing my hair every three months was also costly. Moreover I heard that relaxers are toxic and damage your scalp,I believed so because I was a victim of having several scalp burns and oozing painful sores after I tried economizing and let my sister do my hair. Dollars were saved but my scalp wasn’t.
My cousin gave me my first relaxer just before attending high school since I wouldn’t have time to comb my naturally thick hair in the mornings before school,relaxers made it easier.
I recall my hair reaching my back the first day I did my hair,was so thick and long,I felt amazing. I flipped that hair and I felt like magic. With years my hair got damaged and broke horribly and my hair got short at the fronts. I started not liking my hair but still relaxed it because it was what I had become accustomed to. I hated how I got roots fast every time I wet or washed my hair. Sea and river baths became less enjoyable since I had my hair to worth about after. Every night we were required to set it in rollers so it could curl the next day,no doubt there were good hairstyle days but my hair always got roots fast and was still breaking.
Endured damaged hair for years and I decided to dye my hair on my birthday,bleach it actually. Oh my I looked so gorgeous with blonde curls however up keeping it was tedious as I couldn’t wet it as I pleased. So I got fed up and was motivated to go natural because almost all those around me was becoming hair conscious and natural was the new trend. I was reluctant at first but went all the way in Feb 2015.
The first year was hard and at times I wanted to give up as it was so short and couldn’t style as I wanted. I so desired to have my hair in one,up in a messy bun but I had to endure the afro season and it was tough.
I thank God for my best friend who also joined the natural journey and she assisted me greatly with product usage. I honestly did not do proper research before embarking on this journey. I didn’t know how to care for my hair using modernised and more fulfilling products that suited my hair texture. She told me about sulphate free shampoos,leave in conditioners and deep conditioners.
It was a whole new world and I became excited about my journey since i began experimenting with new products. Before that I felt stuck in a rut and texturized my hair as I didn’t like the texture. My hair also was still breaking, I was upset about that since that was one of the reasons why I went natural in the first place to avoid breakage. My bestie rescued me again and hooked me up with some hair mayonnaise that elimated breakage.
So doing your research before you return natural is very important. Research your texture and discover what works for your type of hair. It took some trials with different products to decide what I liked best. I decided I wanted products that enhanced my natural curls and encouraged growth so I use Olive oil deep conditioner.
My hair texture has changed significantly from when I was a kid. As a child I had very course,thick short difficult hair. That was why I texturized my hair to make it more manageable,but I wasn’t embracing my natut hair,there was still chemicals added in my hair. I must say my encouragement to go all the way natural came from the huge wave of naturals posting embracing their natural hair all over social media hashtag team natural bombarded me and I seemed to be missing out.
I got so motivated that I followed these natural hair queens and the products they used and started experimenting some more. I got to more growth but the ends were still texturized, one day after washing my hair I got so frustrated with those straight ends that I took a scissors and began chopping the straight ends. I wanted to be fully natural.
So with patience I got all the texturized ends out and I was all natural. My hair had to undergo me being very patient and loving my hair. I developed a hair regimen,I got the products and my hair has gotten curlier and longer.
The journey has been bittersweet, ups and downs but the longer I stick it out the more I see my hair transforming to the curly long hair I desire. The key is patience,self love, love the crap out of your hair and don’t be afraid to experiment different hairstyles and products.
Natural hair journey may not be for everyone,but it’s a personal decision I made for personal reasons which I stated and its doing what works best for you and loving yourself no matter what.