It’s been a minute since I’ve posted a podcast. A part of that is because yo’ girl is no longer single, which means I’m still in the process of recalibrating from having all of my time to myself to sharing my space with another. Because we’re not taking the conventional route with our relationship, we’re actually creating, together, the context of what we want our partnership to be. Let me tell you: it’s work, as all great things are.

The other reason why I haven’t posted is because I had been sitting on a recorded conversation that I had with an old friend from back home a couple of months ago right before he passed away. I’d been hesitating to put it out because I wanted to get it right—I wanted to make sure that it was perfectly edited, posted at the perfect time on the perfect platform. It wasn’t until Ted passed that I realized that there is no perfect time. He didn’t want me to edit our conversation. He didn’t want it to be perfect. He wanted it to be real. He just wanted to be heard.

Because there are very few edits, the conversation you are about to hear is pretty damn raw. There are quiet moments filled with background noises and sounds within the conversation we had in Ted’s living room. Ted shared pieces of his writings that he had never shared, thoughts about life and what’s fucked up with the world.

Ted was loved by all and for good reason. I was blessed to share this intimate moment with such a beautiful human being before he passed on. It’s a long one, and there is a lot to get out of this conversation. If anything, all I ask is that you listen with an open heart—and I’m sure Ted would too. So, in honor of our late friend, Sathia Chet, mostly known as Ted, I share with you possibly Ted’s last captured words.

Love always,

Ranny