Life is indeed beautiful but then life isn’t a carefully tiled floor that contains wonderfully patterned set of tiles which is arraigned for approval. Every situation encountered in life isn’t gonna favor or benefit you, and as a result of that, it’s only imperative to finds a way to unwind from the complications of life. For me: Writing is my fun extra curriculum activity, which I use to calm myself and unwind from the serious series of stressful living.
As much as I find a solemn Solitude in writing, I also do know the importance of having a life outside the blogosphere. One’s dedication to his/her blog should never replace the place of reality and different other hobbies; besides blogging, the only activity I find thrilling is reading other people’s book and innovations.
It’s relatively easy to replace priorities, such as diaries upkeep with love for blogging, for me blogging has come to stay as one of my foremost hobbies whenever am less busy: but through it all the knowledge of what a blog is never elucidate me, and for that reason, my priorities are all straightened out.
The eventful night of Wednesday ended with the rising of the Thursday morning sun, leaving me in a middle state of inception. My consciousness was just barely coming back to me when I noticed My roommate for the night was already alerting me of his goodbyes, via the packing of his luggage’s. With a one closed eyes, I bid my friend good day, hoping to see him soon again. While I was yet she contemplating whether or not to close the one opened eye I had on while bidding my friend good day, The Ram close to the window of my room started making some certain noises that inevitably drew my attention and placed an end to my longing for more sleep time., I could faintly fathom the imaginary thought of pain the animal is putting up with in its head, knowing partially well he would be slaughtered in a couple of hours for the Popular eid-Mubarak festival celebrated widely by the Muslims.
The fun for the day had just began when my dad’s friends started off on each others throat, each one of them insulting the other in a derogatory tone. I mustn’t lie, the catastrophic scene was more fun than I could have anticipated, and to this end I, I sat down to take a bowl of pepper soup while I watch the gullible scene our supposed father’s were creating. I know alcohol can be a source of inspiration, but then; no one told me it’s a form of truth serum!
After watching the elderly men tear each other into shreds, the sleep I thought was over 13 hrs ago was already making a loud knock to my head, apparently it’s time to go revisit my succulent mattress. Without much thought, today was a another splendid day in my life!
Beside the window the damaged heart stood; star gazing the field for comfort:
Looking onward, the damaged heart cried, hoping for a lasting salvation;
Like the sorrow was never going to end; the damaged heart gave up hope:
Like her damaged heart wasn’t enough, he had to place a punch to her soul:
Further damaging her only made him feel powerful, but then was that enough reason:
Putting up with reality the damaged heart, knew that which she must do:
Just like the switching of life and death, the damaged heart gave way to comfort.
and amidst the loss of hope, the damaged heart grow her own salvation :
But then in the end, the hunter became the hunted, damaged he became at the mercy of the damaged girl.
The whole matter of relationship for so long, have been a topic I don’t like coming to reality to face. Reason been that, I have seen a lot of heart-broken, for what they believed so much in to be a genuine love. And yet we all go around proclaiming how important love and relationship is to our survival.
But then, the pain that comes with loving someone so dearly doesn’t stay without its own gains. as much as love and relationship hurt when it’s over, the joy it brings while it remains can’t be quantify.
So therefore, this is a letter to my future wife;
Dear Future wife,
hello love, my name is Michael and in as much as you don’t know me now, soon you’ll come to be my life partner. a lot of things won’t be right with me. in fact, you may have to fix my broken heart over a long duration. my complexity will be frustrating, that am sure off, but then don’t look at the complex man who i have come to be; instead, look deep into my eyes to find the simplicity of my person, if not for love, but then for our unborn child.
over the years sweet heart, you’ll come to discover the past i have kept so well from you, and it will disgust you. but please don’t turn to friends for explanations; please turn to me for explanations. i would sometimes be arrogant, but then love, please don’t try to outsmart my arrogance; instead, just lemme be.
lastly, i would do a lot of things that would provoke you to divorce, seeing how my empathy is a little low towards love. but please dear always turn to my mother; because “she is indeed the only one who can quench my raging storm!”.
your future Husband
Early this week, I read a post on a lovely blog about A letter to the newly diagnosed , to which end I placed a touching comment.
But then this post did not just captured my eyes and intellect, it also found a way to my heart. I have always thought of what power illness, sicknesses and disease operate with, that makes them exert so powerful an impression and a restructured way of life on their victims. But then, the more I ponder on such thought, the more I feel heavy at heart towards all that is concerned. Sometimes last year I had a brief illness, I believe the Doctor tagged it “gonorrhea ” but then I would not put you guys through the detail as to how I contracted such ailment. The pertinent inspiration I want to draw from such experience was that, during the period of time this ailment persist, there wasn’t a part of my existence that didn’t flash before my eyes, from the past to my present. This flashback overwhelmed me and in no time, depression sets in; my only saving thought was how do I stay alert.
Going to the toilet, I can’t overestimate the pain that engulf me whenever I want to use the convenience room, but then the hope my doctor placed in my heart brought a whole new light to my life, this hope; I will forever be grateful for, because it just didn’t add to my strength, it gave me something to look forward to and at that moment, my life changed for the better.
That moment, was my life defining moment, where I understood more about what life could be for different people going through different things and circumstances. Always take it to heart to always say something beautiful to anyone around you, because in reality you just cannot tell what does beautiful words you saying could be doing to that person.
“Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.”
It was indeed a coincidence! we met like a stranger at the hallway, looked past each other like we were never going to talk to each other ever. then suddenly the organization’s WIFI was our common ground. from that day onward, our friendship became a long story filled with emotions, it got so serious seeing the end was so hurtful, but then a end was inevitably going to surface. but then who said “a friendship ever have to end!” its all about one’s perspectives. just as Dr. Seuss said “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” and this is all am grateful for.
in memory of a wonderful friend.
- What are your writing habits?
writing can be a getaway mode of relaxation, and it could be a means to quiet joy, for instance when i indulge myself into my writing habits, i love picking up on hysterical event that have occurred in the past, and also i appreciate picking on peoples intelligence.
- What equipment or supplies do you use to write?
my equipment for writing is majorly my personal computer or my device. occasionally, i use my diary and notebooks
- What do you need and want in a physical space?
to be candid, the enviroment in which you write or type, goes a long way in stating how your articles will come out; especially if you are a person who do more of articulate writing. so therefore i love writing and typing in a serene environment, where sounds from fellow humans are at its minimal