First blog post

This is the post excerpt.


This is your very first post. Click the Edit link to modify or delete it, or start a new post. If you like, use this post to tell readers why you started this blog and what you plan to do with it.


confessions of a depressed woman Part 1

she kind of saw it coming; it started with the sleepless nights, then followed overthinking and feeling worthless. She saw it coming but she had no idea it would be this intense. Sometimes she would cry while showering because then no one would notice she had been crying because the tears would run down with the water from the shower. But you know what came easy to her? Letting go, she believed everyone but her deserved all the happiness in the world.  Whats scared her most was the fact that she was getting used to the disappointments, it became okay with her when they kept saying, ” i’m sorry but something came up, i cant make it, Diana has a party so i have to cancel our plans,” her answer would simply be, ” Its okay, i understand.” I guess you can say that disappointment became a part of her. She tried so hard to be a part of something but it all came crashing on top of her like a pile of rocks from a crumbling  mountain after an intense earthquake. She saw it coming but she had no idea it would be this intense….


Does it really exist, you see people define a secret as something that is meant to be unknown to others. When you think about it, who are ‘others’ because experience has taught me that there is no such  thing as a secret, lets take this particular scenario as an example;

Melissa and Elsa were sitting on the green grass under a huge baobab tree with Elsa leaning against the tree trunk and Melissa lying on her back on the grass,  “You will never guess what happened?” Melissa said sitting up then moving to Elsa’s side, also leaning n the trunk she pulled her phone from her pocket and started scrolling through it,  “you have to promise not to tell anyone?” Melissa said finally finding what she was looking for in her phone and handed it to Elsa. “Oh come on, who would i tell, what is it?” Elsa said grabbing the phone from Melissa. ” Oh my gosh, isn’t that Mike, Danielle’s boyfriend?” Elsa said closing the book she was reading to focus on the image of Melissa and Mike, with shock written all over her face. “Yes it is, please don’t tell anyone because he made me swear not to tell anyone.” Melissa said with worry on her face. ” how long has this thing being going on between the two of you?” Elsa asked looking up at Melissa “a few months,” she answered with a shameful tone.

” You will never guess what i saw yesterday?” Elsa was walking home with Miranda. ” What? please don’t tell me you saw that jerk again?”  Miranda said stopping at her tracks. “No it has nothing to do with him. Its Melissa, she is seeing Mike.”  “What but isn’t that Danielle’s boyfriend?” Miranda said with disbelief on her face. “Yep, i know.”

So think about it people, looking at the scenario approve; does a secret really exist, what determines who ‘others’ that shouldn’t know are? so what is a secret?

“Its not only a dream’

When we were kids we all wanted to be something and it excited us whenever we mentioned what we wanted to be; that my friend is what we call ‘dreaming.’You don’t necessarily get in bed to dream, a dream is one’s desire to accomplish something greater than themselves.

Martin was at day care, every time before school his mum would wake him up and they would; work on her garden together, wash the dishes, clean the house and make breakfast together, this was Martin’s daily routine on weekdays before school and he did all this with enthusiasm and marvelously; every now and then he would make mistakes like cut a leave inside of cutting the weed off, break a plate.His mum would smile as he picked up the broken pieces of glass scattered on the kitchen floor as she ran her hand through his soft black curly hair and say, ” Now you will know how to separate a weed from the plants and you will learn to pick up after yourself.”

One day it was career day at school and the children were asked to create an artistic picture of what they wanted to be when they grow up; Kids grew people in doctor coats, police uniform, holding a chalk to the board, an ambulance with a paramedic and more. The teacher smiled as she went around and chuckled at the one of a teacher holding a chalk, ” Good Job Lisa, that almost looks like me.” she said brushing Lisa’s hair with her hand and passed. She got to Martin’s office and began to fume anger and asked Martin to hold his paper up, ” Kids, tell me what you see?” His teacher said, everyone started laughing but that did not bother Martin at all, he just smiled and continued holding the picture up. ” Martin, what is the meaning on this?” The teacher said still fuming. ” Its a picture of my mum Ms Louis.” he replied proudly as he turned the picture to look at it. ” So you want to be your mum when you grow up?” a kid said with a sarcastic laugh with a whisper but Martin heard him.  “Yes” he answered…… To be continued

Been a writer Part 1

Been a writer is what  i have always wanted, why you might ask…

Writing helps me improve my imagination, with writing i can be in different places while still sitting on a chair typing on a computer, i can create a whole new world and it is amazing, full of passion, enthusiasm and joy but on the other hand it is full of detriments, terror, pain and sorrow. What i love about writing is that you can go back and erase all the mistakes you have made(Thank God i’m not using a typewriter, lol!) The last time i wrote i was in trance for a very longtime; somehow i was able to block out all the noise surrounding me and ignore the growling of may stomach(despite my love for eating, hahahaha!). Writing and speaking a very different; when writing you have to know when to pause,when to stop and when to start a brand new chapter. You can’t use words such as lol  so i’m breaking the rules.

I don’t write because i want to be the next best selling author(okay maybe somewhere in my subconscious mind there is that desire) but writing is the one thing that helps me find balance, it helps me get my mind off things i’d rather not mention or think about. Writing is a way of meditating…

What’s my purpose in life- “ever felt like you were lost, like your talents are misplaced or rather feeling adrift most of the time? Feeling out of place is never a good feeling; feeling like you are not where you were meant to be in life, like you should be doing more than you are doing at the moment and you should be some place else. Most of the time everything start to drag, your head refuses to leave the pillow in the morning because you feel like you are lacking somewhere, everything doesn’t make sense and all you can think about is, ‘what if I was working as a personal assistant like I’ve always wanted to or was the market researcher that I’m meant to be? what if I had taken that first course I was offered at varsity instead of the one I did for four years’ and now regret making that particular decision. “Is it too late to start over, even if you start over where exactly do you start, can you even answer all this questions you are asking yourself, should you ask for help or its better to just go at it alone, will what I’ll be starting even help me find out what it is I’m meant to be in life?” Such are the questions that feel your mind, leaving you with a throbbing headache and like someone is hitting the back of your head with an axe. Fear seems to be the only thing that you know best.

Starting out is easier said than done. You keep asking yourself whether its worth the risk; all those people you will lose along the way as you climb that ladder, all the agony you will feel, the neglect and the wonder that will constantly visit you at odd hours of the night when sleep is nowhere to be found, wondering who you are and if you like the person you have become; is it worth the risk? This questions will cloud your mind before you can even think about where to start, before you can even create a web plan of how to start, no one will tell you how to do it because you believe you know better and help seems like you are bothering people or been preserved as a victim and that you can not allow…