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Writing is hard.

Writing is hard work. Generating stories that catch people’s attention and holding it are very difficult. -David Ogden Stiers

When you start writing you realize that all the thoughts you had in your head are not so easy to put down on paper once you get round to it. Sometimes you write and wonder whether that is actually what you were thinking in your head or did you just construct a sentence hoping that someone else would understand what you were trying to communicate.

Writing is hard. This coming from someone who has no mastery writing skills and now just simply immersed herself into this world of writing recently with no experience whatsoever other than the occasional posts i post on social media with no particular intent to educate or inform. The irony of starting a blog when you don’t even know how to communicate in normal life situations.

Writer’s block, i have never experienced that and neither am i going to experience it in the near future. Simply because i feel that in order for you to experience writer’s block, you must have a sense of who a writer should be, mastery of expressing feelings in words, catching people’s interest and keeping it and the talent to back it up. And i have neither of the above so i will term what i sometimes experience when i have nothing to write about as chewing blanks. Yah that sounds like it. I open my blog with the intent to write and i don’t know what to write so i go on a hiatus for days until i find something unimportant to think about then i write about it.

I have recently become convinced that in order for you to have content, you must read widely, interact with people outside of your circle and travel a bit more in order to gain new perspective on issues and about the world. So i promise myself this year to read more and travel a bit more so that i can have content and interesting life facts to share. I should be ready to experience life outside of what i am used to and to interact with interesting people and have fun while at it coz i want to look back at my blog and think, “wow, look at where we started. Such shallow blog pieces in the beginning but now look at you, you’re doing awesome!” Then i shall pat myself in the back and carry on with discovering the world before me.

Therefore, here is to adventurous futures and book filled night stands.

 

Humanity

When was the last time you did something for others?

The world is full of nice people. If you can’t find one, be one- Anonymous

I am an ardent follower of Humans of New York and am always amazed at how much love and care is out there in the world. People who are doing wonderful things out there for others without asking for anything in return. Some of the stories on there can move you to tears, so much suffering and hate but amidst it all, love and care. Of course not all is love and light on there, there are those whose hate you can feel it through their words even if you can’t see or hear them.

Humans of New York is a photo-blog and book by Brandon Stanton that features street portraits and interviews collected on the streets of New York City but currently he is in South America, Brazil. Many of the stories have touched me in many ways but one stood out for me. It was about this little girl called Heloisa who was about to turn six. Her mum said that for Heloisa every elderly person feels like a grandparent and for her sixth birthday, she wanted to have her birthday at an elderly people’s home.

Now this may sound like just a normal story but we have to look deeper. Do you remember when you were 6? Would you have thought about doing the same thing at that age? I can bet that a very small percent would have done that or thought about doing that at that tender age. This little girl is selfless and instead of thinking about herself, her birthday, getting gifts from her parents and friends, planning a birthday that will be the talk of all their kindergarten, she decided to give back instead, to think of others before herself.

It is a simple act as anyone would imagine but for me this got me into thinking, what have i done lately for others other than myself. Most times we cry about how we don’t have money/we are strapped for cash so we can’t help, or we say we have too many problems why should we listen to others, we cry about not having time, we are so busy that we cannot think of others. In a world where everyone is so focused on their lives, earning a living and dealing with their own issues, we have forgotten to be human. To call up that friend who no longer attends social gatherings, buy that street kid a cup of tea or something to eat, looking after our elderly parents or grandparents, being there for family and friends or just simply showing up when and where it matters.

This little girl chose to put other people’s needs before her own, she may have done it out of her pure innocence but maybe that is how we should be. We should become like children so that we may help others when we can instead of overthinking it. I am not saying that you should go out of your way to help, what i am saying is help within your limit.

Here are ways you can help; Example i can choose to buy a street child a mandazi or tea or just lunch every once in a while, i can visit a children’s home and help out where i can; there are some children’s homes where you can even help with simple chores like helping cook the children’s meals or do some cleaning, you can decide to visit the sick in hospitals, especially the children’s wards and even read them a story or simply just play with them, you can visit elderly people’s homes and help where necessary (don’t know if there are some in Kenya), or the elderly could be living in your neighborhood, help them with their groceries or just talk to them, you will be surprised by how many would like that, you can volunteer when you get time, or you can simply share your talents like there is this band of young people who usually go to Mater Hospital with their guitars and sing at the waiting area, i was so impressed the first time i saw them and i thought it was such a lovely gesture, someone in that reception that day who was feeling a lot of pain must have for a moment forgot their troubles as they listened to their angelic voices, you can volunteer at the church and many other ways.

Personally i like to volunteer once in a while at this children’s home where i help with feeding and changing the babies and help put them to sleep. It is such a calming and satisfying thing to do because i love children and heck in the process i get to learn how to take of babies for free so that when mine finally arrive, they will be in good hands. Don’t forget family too, the also need our help sometimes so don’t just assume.

So like Heloisa, let us not say we are too busy, too tired or too broke, too self absorbed to do something for others, for it is by doing so that we awaken our humanity and help those who are in need more than ourselves and surely we shall be blessed beyond all measure.

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Fifty Shades of ‘Wasted My Damn Time’.

Is there a movie you’ve ever watched that makes you feel so ashamed of yourself, one that you’d be caught dead watching? Well…i do, unfortunately. For me it has to be “50 Shades of Grey”…yep, i am ashamed, very ashamed. The movies are an adaptation from the books by E.L James which some have termed as soft porn ala rape. I am quite ashamed, mortified actually by my actions recently, the fact that i went and darn watched another one!! gasp. Fifty Shades Darker!! As if the first time was not embarrassing enough!! I cannot even begin to tell you how ashamed i am right now. I wouldn’t even want my mother to know that i have watched that crap even if she wouldn’t have a clue what the hell that is.

Why watch the movie then if it was crap the first time round, you may ask. The answer is simple. I don’t know. I was curious. I think i just couldn’t help myself, i wanted to see how stupid and silly this book serialization can get. Coz i mean don’t get me started on the cliche and quite silly plot line, the underdeveloped characters (childish to say the least)…etc etc. So let me start where it all began, how did i even get to know about this Fifty Shades stuff. It started when i was at this new job and didn’t have a desk and so was seated where one of the employees who was absent for maternity leave was supposed to be seated. Fresh out of school, first job so you know how idle one can get. At this time you still don’t know what you’re supposed to be doing and they haven’t figured out what to do with you before you start being sent to photocopy stuff and run errands (that is fetching tea or coffee to me and you).

So as i was busy idling, i started perusing through the file content on the computer i was sitting on, and that is when my eyes got attacked by this file that had all kinds of digital books stored in it. The first one that caught my eye was Fifty Shades of Grey. Now don’t get me wrong, i had heard numerous times about these 3 series of books that guys were hailing as soft pornography for old or bored housewives and so i was curious, i wanted to know what these “old and bored housewives” are reading about.

So i started reading them and finished with them in about a week, reason being the plot line is not complicated and the language is not that complicated, it’s like it was being written for children but with adult content. The BDSM was written in such a silly and childish way it can’t even interest your imagination. Did i find them interesting? Nope. Was reading them worth it? Nope. Were they a master piece? Definitely not. Wasted my damn time that’s for sure.

The book was okay but the movies were a drawl. First of all, the two main Characters played by Jamie Dornan and Dakota Johnson were not a good match. Their chemistry is non-existent, Dakota’s acting is like watching a plank of wood floating in a basin (much like Kristen Stewart, that girl has only one expression for every scene in the movie). I felt like before the movie had begun, it was already the end. Shallow plot-line, weak and underdeveloped characters..i could go on but i don’t really think i care that much. So let me go simmer in my own shame in the corner.

For those who haven’t read the book or watched the movies, thank the heavens. There is no other silly crap ever written on this earth that can equate these book/books by E.L James so save your brain the torture. Others may argue different but my mind is made up on this.

Grief

Grief part III: I don’t have a father (cont.)

“Grief is like the ocean, it comes in waves, ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim”— Vicki Harrison.

Sometimes I find myself, sometimes I can’t, sometimes it overwhelms me sometimes i can handle it. And this scares me because now I walk this earth without a father (I know God in heaven is a father to us all) but here on earth, there is the scary realization that i don’t have a father…and believe me nothing is more saddening to me than having realized this fact immediately after my dad’s passing, when you are trying to figure out what this means. That thought, so final, so cold; ‘I don’t have a father anymore’

How do you soothe your younger siblings when they echo your thoughts with those simple words? What can you say to them to comfort them at this time when you yourself you’re struggling with this loss and you haven’t quite figured it out yourself? You realize theirs is nothing much you can say to them to alleviate the pain that you are all feeling, you haven’t figured out anything yet yourself so you just pray that God will give you all the strength and the peace to go through this whole process and not succumb to it.

Personally I feel like grief never really goes away, it’s always there with you. Sometimes you forget but most times you are stuck at that moment thinking about your loved one who died. It could be a milestone that you are about to pass and you’re there wishing your dad was there to witness it all. I dread the day I get married, he would’ve been there to walk me down the aisle but he won’t be there, I don’t even want to think how that day will go.

He would’ve been a wonderful and cool grandpa, oh he would’ve spoilt those children, now they won’t have a grandfather nor will they experience it as I did, and it scares me. It could be your sibling’s graduation and you realize the pain in their eyes amidst the happiness of finishing school, you can feel that they are wishing your dad was there to witness their important milestone. I can’t even imagine the pain when we reach all those milestones and our dad is not there to witness them.

Then you worry about the rest of the family, how are they doing? How are they dealing with this loss? Some people don’t really want to talk about it then you are left wondering how they are doing. Sometimes you just feel like if you had a way of making everything right you would so that they don’t have to feel the pain that you very well know they are feeling. Then you worry about your mother, how is she coping without her husband. What will happen to her when all of you fly the nest?

I miss him with the whole of my heart, each single day, we all miss him terribly. I wish I could have even just a day to talk to him, ask him how he’s been, hoping he doesn’t miss us like we miss him. Hoping he knows that he was loved beyond all measure. To tell him that we will be okay and not to worry. To let him know that we will take care of mummy until we see him again.

To those who still have their parents, cherish them and everyone around you while they are still here with us. Go home visit your parents when you can, take your mum out for that coffee or dinner date and she will be glad for it, not for the coffee but for setting aside your time. Call the old man and ask him how he’s doing, arrange for an activity he likes and take him there and spend the day together. Just be there for your loved ones when they need you for you never know when their time or our time on earth will be cut short, we are all on the same journey so enjoy the in-between.

Grief

Grief part II: I don’t have a father…

Growing up, my greatest fear was losing my parents. I would never even want to bring myself to finish that thought, I dreaded it with all my heart. I sometimes would selfishly wish that I die before my parents (which would’ve been even harder for them-I don’t have children of my own but I hear people say that it is the hardest thing for your child to go before you). And then it happened. The man I loved the most, a man who introduced me to everything I know; music, books, movies, football, life and all else, was gone. Gone from me and not to be heard from again.

I used to feel like he got me like no one else would, he was my rock. He was my adviser and everything I did, I somehow would find myself indirectly looking for his approval. I admired him. How he would be so youthful as to be classified cool by my friends and young cousins and yet command their respect at the same time. He was basically my hero, I was a father’s daughter.

There is no easier way to have a loved one pass away; some people say that if only a loved one who died suddenly had been ill for a while so that they would’ve gotten time to reconcile with their soon passing but i can assure you this, no amount of time can prepare you for the passing of a loved one. Whether it happens suddenly, like an accident or through a lengthy sickness, the pain is the same..as far as i know.

I still don’t even know what I feel at this moment, whether I have moved on from my father’s passing or have I just pushed it to the back of my mind only to relive it over and over again with no warnings. I can’t even tell where I am at, grief is so full of confusion, sometimes I don’t even know what I am doing with my life. I know someone can say; but you are an adult surely you should get over it and live your life and figure it out.

Yeah sure you can try but I came to realize something, I don’t know if others feel the same way, but i strongly feel that a parent, a father for that matter, gives you this identity, this feeling of knowing who you are, there’s a stability of life when they are around that you didn’t know even existed before, but when they are no longer there, you feel lost. Like yes I know who I am and what I can do and what am capable of but somehow without my dad, I am lost.

You can’t really explain it. This feeling of loneliness in this world, you sometimes feel like your family no longer has a place in the extended family or society because the person who connected you to these societal structures is no longer there. You felt like you belonged when he was there because he would somehow take charge of everything, you didn’t have to worry about anything, you were protected, your needs were taken care of. but all of a sudden you have to figure important things out by yourself, you no longer worry about only yourself but you worry constantly about the whole family and there is no break from that.

You are thrust into adulthood real fast, before you can even figure out how to take care of yourself,  because someone has to help your mum out with putting things in order and that person is you. And thus further realization that your dad carried so much weight in form of responsibilities that you didn’t know about because you were there thinking everything used to run by itself. You realize he did so much and he was taking care of so much. Then you gain a new respect for him and miss him even more.

Does it get easier? Maybe it does, i don’t know…

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My desire is irrelevant….

via Daily Prompt: Desire

I know it, you know it and so there is no need to pretend…my desire is irrelevant.

My desire is to one day be that extra wife/mother who wakes up extremely early in the morning (at 8:00 am) to make sumptuous breakfast; roast maize and strungi (tea with no milk) but i know it, you know it, i can’t boil water to save my life, so there is no need to pretend.

My desire is to one day travel the world, sleeping each day in different locations, each with their own stories to tell, dipping my toes in crystal waters, running through the meadows…naked, getting a glimpse of the glorious sunshine at dawn from every top penthouse in every city, sampling sumptuous breakfasts from the best hotels known to man by renowned chefs, sleeping under the stars each night, heck even skinny dipping my pompous ass in still waters at the Bermuda triangle, dancing in the rain barefoot, walking paths only walked by those who came before me, chilling by the lake, throwing stones into the sea to see if it’s possible to fill it up…but i know it, you know it, i can’t save a dime even if my life depended on it, so there is no need to pretend.

My desire is to one day be a renowned scholar of such stature that no one has ever laid their eyes on. A scholar whose innovations stun the most educated of minds and baffle the most simplest of them, a scholar whose name is echoed across all disciplines; be it in the sciences, the arts or the plain tom foolery that seems to be suffocating us each day, a scholar whose life is well balanced out that i have a functional family, an envious social life and all these areas at par with my educational pursuits…but i know it, you know it, am not the sharpest tool in the shade and my social life overwhelms me as is, so there is no need to pretend.

My desire is to be that friend who everyone turns to when they are in need, a friend who will put her needs before her own, a friend who will show up when needed with a packet of tissues and a whole bucket of KFC chicken, a friend who is ready to give the last shirt off their back…only to replace it with a more expensive Versace one, a friend who knows all your flaws and all your strengths, but still likes for who you are, a friend who will stand with you and watch your back but gets distracted by an ice-cream truck passing by, a friend who will stand with you through thick and thin and offer you a shoulder to cry on or a slap to get you back to reality…but i know it, you know it, i am the most antisocial human being to have ever walked the earth with no friends but my dog Skippy, so there is no need to pretend.

My desire is to love and be loved with such intensity that it will drain the air out of my lungs, i desire to be loved for my curvaceous (not fat) body and not my mind (hehe), i want to be loved for my….you know it, i know it, that huu ndio mwisho wa mawazo, so there is no need to pretend hehe…

Youth

The Best Speech That Was Never Given

Just came across this wonderful speech online. This was apparently a column written by Mary Mary Schmich for the Chicago Tribune about a speech she would have liked to give to a graduating class in ’97. A speech that speaks to young people of generations gone and generations to come. It spoke to me personally so thought i should share in the hope that it will speak to you too. Read on…

Ladies and gentlemen of the class of ‘97:

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they’ve faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don’t worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts. Don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don’t waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind. The race is long and, in the end, it’s only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don’t.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You’ll miss them when they’re gone.

Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else’s.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don’t be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they’ll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They’re your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you’ll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you’ll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don’t mess too much with your hair or by the time you’re 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.

-END-

Fiction

Baby…at least that’s what i call him

via Daily Prompt: Baby

At least that’s what i call him. No he’s not a baby, he just behaves like one and he has no idea he behaves like one. So he keeps being ‘baby’ every single day and i let him. Shameful i know but only i know why, because his little ego would be crushed if he knew the extent to which the name ‘baby’ suits him.

Baby has a big mouth, but instead of using it for crying like other babies, he talks. He can talk for days! About everything and nothing in particular. Which is really annoying, it gives me headaches from here to Timbuktu. He talks from morning to morning without stopping or getting tired. Baby doesn’t need much prompting to start these talking sessions…he however only stops when it’s time to eat. And boy can he eat! Baby can eat anything and everything, including but not limited to metal shavings, dirt, wood pellets, spaghetti, and candy…but never words, he can’t eat his words, he says they make him feel like puking.

Baby doesn’t know where he left his socks last week or any other week for that matter, so i am tasked with searching for the socks each morning or when his feet are feeling cold, which is like all the time! but i think it’s because he opens his mouth all the time. Too much heat escaping through that mouth.

Baby doesn’t like children, at least he’s told me that much. He says they make too much noise and we are better off without them. Yeap, rolled my eyes at the time too. I mean where do i begin, but i let it go and agree with baby, as i always do. You see he always has to be right, always…or else he’ll start throwing tantrums. His tantrums are epic, he can roll on the floor for days, naked! Until his butt is bruised, yes that butt which you’ll soon find out i stuck a fork into and burnt in hellfire!

Sometimes i love baby to the core and sometimes i just want to stab his ass with a fork…a big fork…then i cook him! In hell-fire if possible. It should be hot, not too hot to burn him instantly and not too lukewarm that he should enjoy it, rather a right kind of hot, the hot that slow roasts meat. Then i feed him to my dragon. Now you realize that i haven’t actually stuck a fork up his ass. But i might…just might.

But don’t get me wrong, i love baby but baby needs to grow up or else….

Grief

Grief part I: Stages of Grief, sort of…

Grief
ɡrēf/
noun
noun: grief
  1. deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone’s death.

Have you lost a loved one either recently or in the near past…or in the far past? There are a lot of thoughts that come to your mind when you have lost a dear loved one. Why should someone i love pass away? Why is it that God can allow this to happen? Why him/her and not me? They should’ve taken me instead. I didn’t get enough time with him/her. Did they know how much i loved them? Were they scared towards the end? Is it a scary journey back to God? Will i ever see them again? We had so much planned. I didn’t get time to say what i needed to say. I needed more time with them.

Grief is quite a complicated affair, an unparalleled pain that threatens to consume you from the inside out. You feel a physical pain that no painkiller can ease, a gaping hole that is not physical but you can feel it. The feeling of uncertainty of the future without the loved one becomes quite jarring, confusion sets in, denial sets in but in the first morning as you wake up, it becomes quite clear that your loved is no more. Your mornings from then on become a nightmare that you have to wake up from over and over again, that is if you are able to sleep at all. Eating becomes a task that you easily forget as you busy yourself with the activities of the day, if only for a moment you can forget the reality right before your eyes.

You walk through the coming days like a zombie; wake up, funeral arrangements, sleep, no sleep, wake up, welcome family and friends who’ve come to visit-you hear of sentences like ‘tuko pamoja’, smile, church service, forget to eat, sleep, nightmare, wake up, forget to eat again…you repeat this until the day you finally lay them to rest…the finality of it coming when they lower your loved one into the grave, you see their coffin one last time and the reality hits hard. You may even forget breathing at this very moment.

The support you get during this time can be quite overwhelming (unfortunately, sometimes not, depending on the support system you have), it eases the burden of this whole nightmare. I know this because when i lost my dear loving father not too long ago, i came to realize how important it is to show up for your friends and family when their loved one passes on. You don’t have to bring money or food or anything, just be there. Why? Because sometimes all the family needs is the company/the warmth that comes with it, the laughter to keep their depressing thoughts away even if it is for a moment.

Sometimes people say; ‘but i don’t know what to say in this situation?’ The best advice is, for now don’t say anything, yet. Just be there, offer a shoulder to cry on if they need to, piga those random stories that make people laugh and help them forget for a moment. But remember to observe the mood and act appropriately depending on the situation. It may work or not but the bottom line, show up for your friends.

Then comes a time when finally everyone leaves after the funeral and you are left with this gaping hole in your heart and home/home life. Their favorite chair where they used to sit is now empty, you don’t even want to sit near it. You are having flashbacks of how they used to sit there diligently every evening watching the news or Sunday morning reading the paper, or cross-legged watching their favorite series. Somehow it had become an unspoken rule that that is their seat and nobody sat there, now it’s just a stark reminder of their absence and your empty soul.

You miss hearing them come in through the kitchen door asking what is for supper, you miss their calls during the day asking where you put the remote/socks, or around 8pm asking what’s for supper ‘ama nijipange’ when they hear it’s sukuma and mayai again. These moments are going to come back to you every single day for the rest of your life, but does it get easier?

I don’t know but let’s find out in the next chapter; Grief part II.

Note: These articles are not in direct reference to the Kübler-Ross model of the five stages of grief, although at some point i might reference this model.

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The What is this? and the Why even bother?

So let me begin by saying that i don’t know what this blog will be about exactly so i am going to wing it and make it up as we go along. Maybe at some point it may get some clarity but for now, it is just what it says it is; musings. about anything and everything but mostly about life.

I have been thinking about starting this blog for a long time but could not get round to it because i know that my writing skills are minimal to non-existent and because i cannot sustain a single thought for more than 5 minutes (a thought about githeri and avocado just crossed my mind as i typed that). But then i asked myself, if we had to always read only literal amazements (not sure this is a word), then we’ll never know about how the rest of us view the world, the non-arty people who have thoughts in our heads about life but we never know how to express those thoughts on paper. So this one here will not amaze you with its literal prowess but it will amaze you with its simple view of this complicated world we live in or not hehe.

This may be a journal, or maybe a friend’s thoughts, or an acquaintance’s thoughts, or just pure gossip, or psychology matters (this blogger has vast experience in this field as a professional), or about life, or about grief and death (mostly about this, will get round to it later), or about family, or about school, or about boys, or about love, or about food (lots of food!) or about stuff…just stuff, or silly stuff, or about work, or about what i saw jana kwa mat or the internet or about nothing important really….

Someone somewhere is asking why bother when there are so many of these out there, and i can say i don’t even know what I’m thinking starting this but why not? For me i feel that this year should be about why not, and it is the why i have started this blog. So good luck to all those that i may mislead along the way and welcome to those i might connect with with my musings and simple mind. To those who will hate; it’s fine you have your opinion, I’ll have mine and we all agree to disagree but all love all around. Criticism is very much welcome.

 

Welcome aboard!!