My Thoughts Are Dangerous

By KHADIJAH TOU TOU and James Sserwadda

Self-destruction is resistance to change, while vulnerability and honesty are qualities of self-reflection. The book exemplifies different phases of the healing process, separated into chapters. My Thoughts Are Dangerous captures the importance of embracing and pinpointing one’s own affliction and discomfort. If only we are willing to reevaluate our own perspective, may we recognize the silent teachings of life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781664123731

KHADIJAH TOU TOU

Khadijah Tou Tou has the soul of a true artist. She grew up empowered by a mom who would say “If you’ve told yourself ‘no’ to an opportunity you want, go after it anyways because then the worst answer you’ll get is a ‘yes’ since you’ve already denied yourself of it.” After receiving her BS in mass communications with a concentration in broadcast journalism and minor in African American studies, she decided to pursue a career abroad as an international educator. Through her works, she explores an array of themes in accordance to her experiences, not limited to evolution, spirituality, race, class, gender, philosophy, religion, and mental health and wellness. Tou Tou often performs her artistic expressions through storytelling, singing, and theater. She hopes to keep improving childhood literacy rates through accountability of her own teachings, preparing young girls for leadership roles and always surrounding herself in diverse and inclusive environments. Follow her podcast called “In Trance” on Spotify, Google cast, and/or Apple Podcast and visit intranceu.com for more information, updates, inquiries, and/or bookings. Instagram: @khadijahtoutou @intranceu Twitter: @khadijahtoutou YouTube: La n’ Lew Booking: [e-mail] Illustrator Biography: James Sserwadda is an award-winning artist who made strides as a remarkable Afro-punk artist and art educator who was born and raised in Kampala, Uganda. He received his BA with honors in vocational studies in art and design with education from Kyambogo University. Currently, he’s completing his MA in experimental art and film at Beijing Film Academy. Making his mark on the creative industry in Beijing through his Afro-centric style and passion for the community, he has galvanized the international community and established a burgeoning but steady following. James is still teaching art to children and teens in Beijing and continues to work on many art projects expanding across various fields, such as field sculpture, fabric decoration, painting, and experimental art and film.

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Copyright © 2020 by Khadijah Tou Tou.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 08/27/2020

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

810946

لا إله إلا الله محمد رسول الله

To my mo

ther,

for the paradise rests at her feet.

My spiritual fathers.

My sisters.

My niece.

My family.

My teachers.

My friends.

My lovers.

And my professor,

who pulled me aside to tell me,

"You should watch what you write and say

because your thoughts are dangerous."

How?

My thoughts might just save the world.

Peace, mercy and blessings be upon you.

My fellow human being,

you are bearing witness to my coping mechanism.

This book was already written.

I’m merely tracing the lines to what was

already predetermined as my destiny.

This is me with my mask off,

no makeup,

snot running onto my lips,

meeting my tears

which avalanche down my face with only the promise of

-DEATH-

to my old ways.

I save no face in this.

The hidden shall be revealed.

The wet tissue and blow of the nose reveals

I am strong,

I am vulnerable,

I am gentle,

I cry.

Welcome to the healing process.

This is a conversation between us.

You ready?

Contents

Phase 1.   A Revelation Of The Throne Boqor(AD)

Phase 2   I Know Why A Good Girl Goes Bad

Phase 3   Getting Over It

Acknowledgments

Phase 1.

BOQOR(AD)

A REVELATION OF THE THRONE

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I learned mercy in the letting go of my ex.

If he really wants to talk to you, then he’ll contact you first.

But he ain’t no mind-reader, so if you want to talk to him, then you can’t expect a closed mouth to get fed.

Just pick up the phone and text him.

No.

Yes.

NO.

YES.

Girl, you a whole queen, you fear none but the God you serve.

This is me arguing with myself.

Yes, I talk to myself. Everyone does, right?

You know the kind of thoughts you get when you’re making a decision, when you don’t want to relinquish your power?

Yep, that was what I was going through.

So I picked up the phone, stumbled to put in my passcode, and began texting.

Boqor, let me know when you get back in town. We have lots to talk about.

In the Somali language,

Boqor means King and

Boqorad means Queen.

Before I could even exhale, Asalam alaikum, Boqorad. I have returned. Calling you now, In Shaa Allah, he replied.

Alaikum salaam, Boqor. My deepest apologies, I always forget to greet you correctly. I’m still becoming accustomed to using these Muslim Arabic phrases. Give me like two minutes. I’m walking in the house from work.

Take your time, Boqorad. Let me know when you’re ready.

Ring, ring, ring!

Asalam alaikum, Queen of queens, my Boqorad Zareen. How are you? How was your summer?

I’m irritated and low-key pissed that he ain’t tell me when he got back and never even bothered to call. But out of protocol and respect for greeting purposes, I’ll be nice and not trip just yet. Besides, summer looked great on him. I seemed to had forgotten how handsome he is.

You know you get on my nerves, right? Don’t you ‘queen of queens’ me, Boqor. We haven’t spoken since the day your feet touched your homeland. You tell me, Wassup? How are you? How’s Mom? How was your summer and your grandmother’s sweet kiss? It’s been five years since they’ve seen you. You left a boy and returned a man.

Boqorad, I have no excuse to give you this time as we promised communication and honesty. I have something to tell you.

Wait, he has something to tell me? Like what? Wait . . .

So you know how men hate hearing we need to talk from women?

Well, I feel the exact same sentiment when a man tells me I have something to tell you.

Fine, I’ll pretend to be unconcerned and go with the flow before I decide to make assumptions or start questioning his intentions.

YASSSS, you better be honest and communicate! Throw it at me, I’m ready to catch, Coach.

To answer your previous questions, home was good, Mom is good, Grandmother is good. Alhamdoulilah, I got married and even had a few business ventures while I was…

WTF did he just say to me? Did he just tell the woman he has been courting for over two years that he has a wife now? Surely not. Nah, bruh,