The days. Flying by ever so fast yet the pain of confusion wears away slowly. Comparing the fast paced life with the soft and unhealed wounds of yesterday seemingly contradict each other. One is a wind that cannot be caught and the other a dream delved into every second. Though, I must say, this is what makes everything so beautiful. The ability to put yourself in the spotlight, exposed to the potential failure and harm, but still persevering and taking the chance. When all that matters is to win and be a part of expectations, the true essence is missed out upon. Confusion. That's what remains. To satisfy all is not an option, but to do good for all is an aim worth fighting for. Left alone on my own, the great world my critic, my young and flustered self a victim almost. A victim. Victim to what? Answerable to who? Wronged which aspect of life? I am my own victim. With the great exposure to opportunities comes the great threat of failure. A woman of color with a headscarf, two st...
Trapped in a moment of overwhelming responsibilities, I sit here confused yet calm. To escape, I assume. Writing is my path of walk when there is no other step so comforting and relaxing. One task, then another, accumulating endlessly until there is no eye to see the world beyond. Almost inescapable. Almost, but not quite. I guess it is at times as such when one begins pondering the depths of life. Is this purely just a matter of intrigue or perhaps another face of procrastination? Nonetheless, it's a time of great thought, probably the best self advice comes when there are numerous things impending at my mind. And here, I will attempt to organise my unkempt thoughts into fathomable words, my mind seeping through nothing but an arrangement letters. Tonight. A time I had not imagined yet a time that is nearing too fast. Potential fear? Or maybe just uncertainty. I do not know. There is however an undeniable and painstakingly constant reality rushing to make a grand entrance. I co...
Tonight. 12.51am to be precise. Crazy right? It's never easy to face the true fears that lie within your deepest self. Maybe that's why I kept ignoring it, pretending that it never existed. But I was wrong. The turnstile of life draws the most vulnerable and true parts of you out, and yet I fail to see that I am limited. I am limited by myself. It's almost impossible for me to acknowledge the reality at times, to say for once that I may well and truly desire to explore beyond that which I have been given. Why, still, do I remain trapped? Do these words I let flow even create fathomable sentences? Is this the reason I was brought into this admittedly small and time bound world which will eventually consume me before pledging to another soul? These question I pose, I leave for myself to answer but realise how much more confused it only makes me. That emptiness. It's eating me away leaving me lost and open to a soul of darkness and falsity. But then, it is I who brought u...
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