Boobie traps and courageous raps. – By @saphire_rose

By Saphire Favell


Boobie traps and courageous raps.


I just have to warn you… I’m hungover so this scab is going to be atrocious. I’m sorry. Whilst I’m here I’d also like to send my sincerest apologies to my liver too. So there we go, apologies dear friend, but mostly, please forgive me (once again). My sober Friday lasted about 2 hours so cheers to sobriety going down the drain and a bon appetit to the many Jagerbombs guzzled beneath last night’s dazzling firework emblazoned sky. But it was worth it – sort of. Regardless I am still on the path to righteousness as I was in bed by midnight so really that’s a plus isn’t it.


On another note – we’re 7 weeks down. Scary stuff. I can’t even begin to describe how much I’ve learnt in the short time I’ve been here but what I do know is that I’ve already learnt more in the past two months then in the whole three four five years of uni. Mad ting.


But shit is getting serious now. People are starting to boobie trap each other’s lockers and poison the canteen gruel. It’s outrageous but I’m here for it.


As Andy said on Friday during reflections… he is here to bust a ball. Whilst I’d rather keep my nonexistent balls intact and uncracked – I agree. It’s time to start making some book worthy material. After all.. time waits for no man.


And with this realization I’ve also decided that I’m going to start writing a lot more poetry because, one day, I’d actually like to be able to tell someone that I’m a poet. How sick would that be? How pure would that be? Shout out to my favourite mentor on the course so far on for this one. Deanna, you delight.  


The next goal is to try and actually get up on stage and perform something live at an open mic night or wherever it is that people go to have their Eminem moment. I feel like my rap career (lol) has come a long way since spitting bars with a tinder date I immediately had to friend zone to rap battling with policemen on a street corner in Chiswick.


In fact, on the 14th of November (my birthday) it will be a year since my interview day for the school. It’s the day I performed my first ever piece of written poetry – my proudest so far and my most honest too. Cue the cringe.  


Even though it feels like time has flown by, a lot has happened this year. I quit my job and freelanced, visited four countries, attended one wedding, loved and lost, danced and dumped and witnessed too many a sunrise.


This year I’m going to play harder at school and work harder on myself and savour every moment. But mostly I am going to savour this moment – the last sentence of this scab and the sweet embrace of my bed.





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