To write well, you must live: part 1

August 18, 2026 by kkamilah Leave a comment

Writing for fun, writing as a millennial, the case for FAFO

As a millennial and a Tumblr gal back in the 00s and 10s, I started to feel like I was existing on Substack in a sea of people who are getting younger and younger than me and, if I am very candid, having less and less in common with me. It’s comforting to know that there are so many of us who refused to disappear when blogging dissolved or turned into the shitshow that is Twitter.

I write the same way I did when I was in my twenties, which probably contributes to why I feel like an old ugly duckling on here. The cynicism has never left me, my general anger at the state of the world has only compounded, and I probably will say things that will offend some people. But I’ve never cared about that. I’m not interested in reading about beauty trends, living a soft life, being a thought daughter, or how to become intelligent and well-read. I do what I want (while wearing winged eyeliner), and I already am intelligent and well-read. I don’t understand why many other people can’t get there on their own too.

I don’t care for censorship and trigger warnings, either (probably why the kids think we’re so inappropriate). I don’t believe in walking on eggshells because you want to appeal to everyone and then making sure you only make content that everyone will like. We’ve all walked different paths and have seen the world through different eyes – blogging is for everyone and, for me, the point is to be real. Why would I want to read a carefully curated piece of work that serves to be the same as… everything else? Some people have been able to live a nice, easy life; others have seen the horrors and want to share with the class

I want to read about what people are thinking, I want to read about personal experiences and all the little things that make their lives (and writing) different from everyone else’s. I want it to be accidentally adorned with their own personal flair and I don’t want it to be so censored. Thoughts can be ugly when they’re not censored, and it seems we’re scared of that.

A Slow Morning (tea, grass, and a naughty cat)

July 29, 2025 by kkamilah Leave a comment

cat amongst plants

I woke up early this morning and decided to stay at home. A slow morning, one that wasn’t riddled with the rigid rules I decided to set myself the day before, a structured check list of errands and things to do. I didn’t go to the gym. I didn’t go for a walk to get in my eight-thousand steps before nine-a.m. I didn’t go to the shops to buy my groceries for the week and I didn’t think about getting in my protein and healthy fats.

I simply woke up, went downstairs, and made myself a tea.

It’s just me and the cat. As soon as he spotted me, he started skulking around and meowing by the door to be let out – but I didn’t want to have to watch over him and devote these first precious hours to preventing his stealthy escape from the barricaded garden walls. Why does he want to do that? Why can’t he just want to be still like me on this slow Sunday morning? But eventually I give in and open the doors; kind of because I’d like to enjoy the fresh air myself this morning, but mostly because his little face and tiny paws propping him up on my legs to be carried have moved me, although I know it is but manipulation. He doesn’t actually want to be carried and he will jump away from me as soon as he feels the warm air on his whiskers.

You can’t hurt me, my tote bag is falling down my arm

February 6, 2025 by kkamilah Leave a comment

A love letter to winter.

I gaily (but quietly, I hope) skipped down the stairs at 5:30am this morning. I put on my trainers, I filled up my water bottle. I fumbled around for my house key which, regrettably, is still only attached to one tiny keyring (Lego Voldemort) and slips away from my fingers much too easily, especially when I am wearing a glove.

My eyes flicked mechanically over to the CCTV screen (as it does prior to any time I leave the house, in case there’s a murderer waiting for me) and I immediately did a double take: I could only see a spectral wooosh of blurred white.

I walked back over to the window and peeled aside the netting to find that the street was covered in a thick blanket of fog. Nice, I thought. I checked myself – surely I should have recoiled? Surely I should be grimacing and clutching my chest and saying ‘what is this? I should be asleep. I can’t do it.’? But I wasn’t. There was no plea to return to the warm sanctity of my bed. There was simply alertness in my brain and elation in my heart: I was genuinely happy to be leaving the house. Whilst I have never been one to begrudge the dawn (I’ve always been an early bird, even when it’s dark), I sensed a change from the difficult mornings I had a few weeks ago as my body adjusted. I realised, in the gradual arrival of the end of the year, I had been factory reset to my default setting.

Letters to Santa

December 23, 2023 by kkamilah Leave a comment

Dear Santa,

I’ve been a rather good boy this year, I think.

Last week I asked for cake before I had eaten all my food, and, of course, Mummy let me have it. I did have a bit of a meltdown but mummy reassured me I was still a good boy. I screamed and screamed the house down all while aunty Jay and uncle Eddie sat awkwardly in silence, not daring to encroach. Mummy kept saying things to me, though I wasn’t really listening, or rather couldn’t hear her over the sound of my own noise.

You’re just upset, Jimmy, it’s okay. Let it all out. Hush, darling, it’ll be okay. Mummy doesn’t want to give you cake now because you’ll get a tummy ache as you haven’t touched your quinoa yet! Be a good little boy, my prince, and eat some salmon. Then I’ll give you dessert. Just eat half of it. Oh no, Jimmy, we don’t say that word! Okay, a bite. Fine, will you promise to eat it tomorrow, darling? Mummy will be very upset if you don’t. Please don’t hit mummy, that’s not very nice! We don’t hit! Oh, again! Stop hitting mummy, darling. Here, have your dessert because I know you’re very upset right now and you’re going through so many emotions.

Then mummy gave me the cake.

Daddy sat in the corner not doing anything, of course, until he saw mummy ferociously dividing the cake between me and her so that there was only a sliver left for him. By that point I was really cross as my face was hot and swollen, and I couldn’t enjoy the dessert so daddy wolfed it all down. Mummy started shaking a little bit after that but didn’t say anything. She just went into the kitchen and I heard a loud crash! bang! Daddy was hoovering up the crumbs from his plate with his mouth, like a fish, and didn’t go to mummy, so I think it was okay.

Anyway, this year I want an iPad. I’m growing up fast and daddy’s phone screen is just too small for my fingers. All my older cousins have one already; Gemma got one just because she started university and she always says no when I ask to use it. I asked nicely, so that means I should really be allowed. Mummy said so.

From,

Jimmy (8)

The Unread Odyssey: One Man’s World Record Pursuit for Untouched Books

October 23, 2023 by kkamilah Leave a comment

In a world where achievements come in the form of fast racecars and senior citizen skydiving, there’s a lone wolf in West Yorkshire with his eyes set on a record that’s in the grasp of practically anybody who has walked past a bookshop. Meet Frodo Leatherbound, a literary iconoclast hell-bent on venturing where most of us haven’t intentionally dared to tread.

He hopes to break a world record with the largest collection of unread books on his bookshelf.

As we enter his cluttered, yet charmingly pretentious library (really, his living room, from what we can see of it), it’s a sight to behold. We are mesmerised by the towering shelves bulging at the seams, crammed with books Frodo can’t even remember the names of. Some of these volumes, we notice, are duplicated two, three, even four times, like they’re breeding more books in various editions and bindings.

A cursory glance will reveal an impressive mix of subjects; there is everything from biographies of long-forgotten pop stars to the collected wisdom of world leaders, Guinness World Record books dating back two decades, poetry anthologies, hundreds of classics, a smattering of contemporary tomes, and three signed Delia Smith books.

Aptly named, Frodo insists his genetic disposition to book hoarding is a legacy passed down through some bookish DNA, courtesy of parents who have refused to comment. In a wave of nostalgia, he recalls his youth, growing up amidst a world of picture-books, hefty journals, huge hardbacks, and even the charming pop-up books that characterised his formative years. Read more

Why you should be scheduling

July 15, 2023 by kkamilah Leave a comment

I like to think there are other people like me. People who get ferociously, terribly, horribly angry whenever their time is wasted in any way whatsoever. A minute in the real world is an hour in the world of someone who meticulously plans each and every segment of their day, right down to fifteen-minute increments. At 05:30 I will wake up. At 08:15 I will read, at 17:45 I will change my bed sheets, at 21:00 I will be in bed with a candle flickering and Alexa playing Last Hope by Paramore… and so on, and so forth. Is this normal? I’m not sure.

Some might call it obsessive, some might call it insane. Some might say it’s perfectly normal to want to squeeze as much from your day as possible, considering how fast time is slipping us all by. I am obviously of the latter; planning my days so carefully allows me to feel like I have control over my life. I never, ever go to bed lamenting over having wasted the day or week, and it’s simply because I have done everything with purpose. Even the useless things. Maybe it’s boring or too grown-up, maybe it leaves little room for spontaneity — but I do consider last-minute plans. I am definitely down for an impromptu trip to Franco Manca, I just need to consult Outlook and move my Sims block elsewhere.