[to rhythm of J. Cole’s Apparently]

I like to write alone, be in my zone
think back to Cleveland first.. moved in your home
perf to what 4-year-old me had ever known
wish I could’ve stopped the arguments
wish Pops wasn’t gone

I’m so sorry my mama left you to deal with me alone
I was always in detention, mouth so sassy, acting grown
had no clue what you was going through
how you kept holding on

and how could I be so reckless ? you deserved to be respected
but instead I gave you headaches, talking back, doing what I want
yet you put up with my ways, showing me God’s love through you
behavior might not showed it, mais grand-mère je t’aime, I do

and I need to treat you better
wish you could live forever
so we could spend more time together

I love you Granny

originally written and shared via @tee.krys on Instagram | June 24, 2025

in the words of @jamiraburley , I want to “bask in the uncertainty of things that make [me] feel alive” .. when I picked up cycling as a hobby , I didn’t know what I was doing , whether or not my legs would give out on me , or even where I was going sometimes (literally.. I’d simply follow the person in front of me) . all I knew was that I enjoyed it ; I wasn’t worried about “succeeding” or reaching some particular goal , nor who was doing it already or what others would think about it . I started doing it & kept doing it b/c I liked it . on my bike , I felt present , alert & alive . I felt good.. really good . & that’s all that mattered . it’s time I transfer some of that same energy into other aspects of my life ☀️🍃

brought in my new year doing more of more and less of less. so blessed 🫶 — originally posted by @tee.krys on Instagram December 19, 2024

My “new year” begins on the anniversary of my birth. This collection of images is how I spent the days surrounding my ‘24 birthday in SoCal.

I redeemed a trip to wine country that I won on a television game show. My primary male suitor at the time surprised me with room service delivery of a wine I’d mentioned on FaceTime the previous night. When I got back to Los Angeles, he also sent flowers to my home.

I played in the mirror and admired myself, reaffirming my physical attraction and being okay with that being okay, if that makes sense.

I got my hair professionally pressed and cut for the first time in probably a year. One of my former co-workers from Neiman Marcus had been getting her hair done by this lady inside of Ulta. I didn’t even know there was a hair salon inside of Ulta retail stores! And I would’ve for sure never thought for myself, as a brown girl with ethnically rich tresses, to go into Ulta to get my hair done. That seems to be what we’d call “some white people sh*t”. I went.

I scheduled a content collaboration with a spa that had reached out to be a birthday gift to myself as well. And it’s really a gift in more ways than one because not only am I having a 500-dollar luxury spa day for free, I’m starting my new year with a glimpse into what I want to be doing: making a living by living. I want to get paid to be me, as I should be. I’m very much that girl and the more that I say that, the more that I believe what other people see in me.

Most importantly, what comes with every realization that I’ve reached yet another rotation around the sun, I reflected. I reflected on what I’ve done, what I’ve not, what I need to do less of, what I want to do more of.

It’s a whole year later as I type these words, I’m currently at the beginning of my new year again, what a timely reminder. Actively making it a point to do more of what brings me true happiness, less of the temporary highs.

because I miss the days of Insta without curation , where pictures haven’t passed through editing apps and been meticulously scanned over down to the crooked pinky nail.. and everybody wasn’t rich with it all figured out living perfect lives , so perfect that they have the credibility to sell thousand-dollar courses instructing the next dreamer how they can be a millionaire tmrrw by plucking hairs out of bootyholes or land themselves into the lap of a millionaire by clicking her shein heels together

Related reading: Stop Letting the Instagram Girlies Scam You Out of Your Money with Those Courses that Will Get You Nowhere

I said I was going to be a quiet, aesthetics-only girlie on this account, but it’s looking like I lied. bye.

oh. & one more thing, y’all see how these new iPhones are trying to make us think our eyes are playing tricks on us? girl, you’ll be EATING in selfie-cam , until you click the darn button to take the picture & pull that bih up in the camera roll , like “naw.. I know that ain’t what I JUST saw” goes backscreenshots

okay , rant over .. maybe I’ll be back to fit a trending aesthetic another day 🤷‍♀️

à plus tard! tutaonana baadaye! byeeee

— archived post from @tee.krys on Instagram April 30, 2024

Nine years ago, my journey in L.A. started as a seasonal retail sales associate at Neiman Marcus Beverly Hills.

I’m so accustomed to saying, “oh, some years now,” when people ask how long I’ve been living in Los Angeles that I forget the exact amount of time it has been my damn self!

When this app I’ve been using recently to capture daily clips sent me a push notification saying, “do you know what you were doing at this very moment 9 years ago” and I saw myself standing in the mirror of a very shiny and clean restroom wearing slacks, a blouse and a name tag pinned to my blazer, I thought to myself, “goodness, Dillard’s looks nice.” 

Dillard’s is about as luxury as it gets in department store retail in Louisiana and that’s where I worked before moving to California.

I paused on that thought, “no, Dillard’s never looked THIS nice.” I try to zoom in on my employee name tag, but the 1 Second Everyday (1SE) app won’t let me. 

My jaw drops.

There’s no way this says 9 years ago and I’m standing in the mirror at my first job in L.A.  No way.

Goodness f’ing gracious, I’ve really been living in Los Angeles for NINE WHOLE YEARS?!  What thee actual f*ck..