In My Feels

It took me a while to understand what it takes to dedicate your life to writing.  To say that my brain is warped is an understatement. Reading and writing should be at an excess if you looking to be a part of this exclusive club. Imagine pouring your soul out to the world so that you can put food on the table. Where do you draw the line with your readers? Or is there no line at all?

A month down and 11 more to go. I’m not counting; I just know. That’s a lie but, I’ll pretend like I’m not waiting for the year to just evaporate. That’s how it is when you write. Content comes and ideas seem to evaporate. And there you are, stuck with a steaming pile of content that lacks any galvanizing ideas.

Ever since my grandma passed on last month my writing levels have decreased. Surely she didn’t take them with her. That would be a big problem. May she rest easy though. I decided not to write exclusively about her because she ‘lived’ and that’s all that matters to me. If you’ve lived your life to the fullest then you’re definitely part of a select few in someones good books. She’ll always be in my good books…

I’ve been angry of late; consumed by this dark world that’s trying to bring us good folk down. You can’t write the poop that happens in Zimbabwe. It’s a real life fairy-tale here. Evil rules with no contest and death is a closer friend to all. A hero is yet to reveal him or herself. Many have come and have been dealt with accordingly. Will my generation die without experiencing the real revolution?

I used to play rugby back in high school. I’d say I was good enough to go pro. I think the scary truth is that I gave up because I liked the pain too much. More than a decade later I sit here wondering what would have been of my body if I had continued. That’s a great question especially now that I’m overweight. I’m doing something about that though. February is going to be extremely painful but, then again you ain’t Zimbabwean if you don’t know real pain.

Don’t message me and ask me how I’m feeling. I’ll probably lie to you because I extremely doubt that anyone can handle my feels. And yes, there’s plenty I’ve left out. Wouldn’t want to jizz it all out at once would we? I feel like I’m too nice and accommodating to people. Maybe my pride is too big to come out and say that life is having me up the bum-cheeks. I laugh because the sexual innuendos say a lot! At least you know that this is about my feels:

A comprehension has to be written in order to gauge the thoughts that run a mock in my head. I’m starting to talk to myself. That’s another lie because I think I’ve been doing that ever since I knew what a toy was as a kid. Don’t be ‘weirded’ out but, I sometimes find it soothing to blurt out a few things to myself. Nothing strange in particular though. I randomly feel the need to tell myself to get a grip or to go cook or to go take a shit. Those are just examples but, I’m starting to realize how weird that sounds the more I read it back.

In the end, I wrote this as an extension of myself. I know future me will read this like I read all my past blog posts. He’ll probably mutter to himself and ask why I didn’t talk to him (myself). I’m glad I wrote this though. My mind is at ease for once. And I’m not sure how to describe this feeling of relief.


You’ll never find sin what you entered sin to find; you will end up hungrier.




Photo Credit: Lê Tân


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