Shedding

So let’s face it.

At twenty-one I’m becoming a bit of a stripper.

I’m stripping down and shedding. I’m shedding that destructive little girl who didn’t really know her left from right.

And it’s starting off like this: Read more

Still Overboard

Lately, I have come to discover a little truth about my current self.  That truth is:

I’m still overboard. 

And by that, I mean I am still working through the mess left behind from my recent conundrums in life. In my current state of being, I have acknowledged that I am not perfection – yes. But it is that sort of acknowledgement that strengthens me, motivates me and pushes my twenty-one year old self to get better and be better.  Read more

Abba and old new beginnings

Abba/ἀββα is a Greek word.

Translated it means,

Father

But I’d like to think it more intimate. Because there exists, enough words in the Greek vocabulary for ‘father’.

Abba, ἀββα seems so infantile. It calls out to trust. Unshaken in its own vulnerability. Whether inhaling or exhaling, whether I runneth over, whether I have nothing left it is, but one, of the very few words I find myself breathing out without labour for air in my lungs. And lately, in the secret world of my own ponderings on which I have become fixated and accustomed, I find myself in a place where I am vacating the past in order to live in the present. So, in all honesty, ἀββα is my only solace.

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Blue’s Clue

I’ve been doing a lot of letting go of late.

Letting go of my hair, letting go of my feelings, my society position at university next year, my hairy legs that don’t seem to be getting on with the changing seasons, my incessant need to be right and mostly my obsession over having the last say in everything. Because recently at twenty-one, I have come to the edge of the start of something new.

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The God-Father

If it isn’t obvious by now it will become strikingly apparent in the next sentence *currently under construction* that I am the C word.

No – Not that C word. The other one.

Yup folks – The skyscraper building, shattering glass windows, Read more

The pain physician

At twenty-one:

unadulterated, emotional pain is a repugnant cuisine I have very much unwillingly consumed.

This kind of pain has a standstill effect on you. Once settled, it re-acquaints you with your every breath. Your heart becomes a ticking bomb against your chest. The ground beneath your soles suddenly gives and every step forward is a fickle attempt not to spill over your body. It leaves you with a lingering awareness of yourself but chokes you with the detachment from not belonging. Read more

Owe it to the twenty-year-old.

Twenty year old me didn’t expect to lose me, but she did.

She knew a lot about keeping things safe but what she didn’t know was this: protecting something meant you kept it locked in your heart and you threw away the key. So it’s clear she didn’t truly love me anyway. She lay me on her chest during her nightly talks with God and didn’t really understand what it meant to hold fast to what was dear.

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