These past months have made me realise something; blogging is difficult.
I started blogging one night not out of random chance but because someone told me to, shortly after that it became something more; a way for me to air my views beyond 140 characters on Twitter, and away from the hum drum of Facebook.
It gave me some level of anonymity. Nobody on here knew me, and nobody would; at least not beyond what I wrote.But that was the point; showing people what I thought was the real me without them actually seeing the real me, drawing conclusions only from what I had written.
I intended to write regularly, even posted a promise about it, but life is unpredictable and i wasn’t able to live up to that promise. And although I want to make that promise again I can’t because, although I might like to think my life is interesting enough or I’m smart enough to come up with little quips or inspirational messages to post, the truth is my life is very boring and I’m not as smart as I like to think.Not a lot happens in my life, and sometimes when it happens I can’t write it down.
I have gotten so used to hiding that I can’t fully open up. The hiding is something I have learnt recently, because when you open yourself up to someone, they have control, and they can hurt you; hurt you in ways that they don’t understand; ways that will follow you around for a long time.
But you learn to live with the hurt and the pain and the scars; not forgotten, but always there; just beneath the surface of what everyone sees. That persona that you craft because you feel you can never open up again.
You feel you know me.
But you don’t.
Thank you for your likes and comments.
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I wrote this down a while and I found it again, so I decided to post it with some adjustments.
If you love singing as much as I do, you most likely have already joined a choir or music group or something.
Now if you aren’t in any of the groups mentioned above you need to join one, even if it’s only for fun.
In every school I’ve been in since Year 8 (JSS 2) I have been in the choir. And I have to tell you, if your choir is filled with amazing talent, the feeling of being in the midst is profound.
I, once in a while, just keep quiet and listen to everybody else, and it is honestly like being in heaven.
All the voices just blend to make beautiful music.
I personally love listening to cello compositions, and being in the midst of all of these people, gives me a feeling of happiness that I’ve had only on occasion outside such a setting.
For example, I’ve found that I can’t be truly sad when listening to strings. It’s the same with when I’m rehearsing or ministering with my choir.
I might become wistful, which my dictionary defines as thoughtful sadness, but never truly sad.
But this is no longer the case, of recent I’ve been actually sad and depressed, not just thoughtfully so. It is so annoying, because this used to be my sanctum, my place of peace and some tranquillity. But that illusion has been shattered by my annoying episodes of depression, what is really pissing me off is that I don’t know what causes these episodes, I just discover that I can’t enjoy what I used to love.
So today we have put on a brave face to see if I can begin to enjoy music again.
Someone told me that my posts seem incomplete, as if I was driving to a point and I suddenly broke down.
And to some people it may seem that way I just want to say that I write what I think, and how I feel when I’m writing influences how and what I write. I don’t aim to teach, instruct, advice or lecture, I just hope that anyone reading gets something relevant to them from whatever I write.
This is not talking about clinical depression which is a recognised illness, but about that sudden fleeting but sometimes prolonged feeling of unexplained sadness, when some people say they are feeling ‘down’.
Of recent these episodes have been occurring more frequently and today’s episode is the longest and weirdest.
Weird, not in the fact that I don’t know exactly why I’m feeling this way (I never know the reason), but because the usual remedy which is singing did not work.
I decided to confide in my friends, when one of them told me to basically just slap a smile on my face and move on, that if I want to be happy I’ll be happy. And although I disagree I didn’t argue, because everybody has there own way of dealing with it.
But what I’m thinking is that just because you have a way of dealing with your episodes doesn’t mean you should just dismiss another person’s feelings.
In my current situation, guys sharing feelings is seen as feminine and gay, and I don’t know how to avoid it. I’m personally a very emotional person (I mean I cried to all three Kung Of Pandas) and I experience all the extremes of emotion, but when I go through my episodes, it’s brutal. I begin to question everything about myself.
Today I had a conversation with my dad and he was dismissive as usual, but he said something that really hurt (shockingly it was expected, but it still hurt), I was talking about my upcoming birthday and how I should celebrate it and he just broke in saying “are you where you’re supposed to be”, (some people might take it as him pushing me, but those people didn’t hear his tone, in retrospect it seemed filled with something akin to malice) and he hung up.
I spoke to my friend X from my previous post blind talent, and he suggested that maybe this was the cause of my episode, and although I do admit it was on my mind, I don’t think it is the reason, but I’m not a psychologist, so we’ll probably never know.
I have this friend. Let’s call him X. And he is one of the most annoying human beings on the planet. Not character wise though, in that regard he is a doll.
But what annoys me is his inability to accept a compliment about his creative talent.
I personal think that they broke the mold when they made him. But no matter how many times you tell him he refuses to see it.
I mean he can draw, design, dance. Things I wish I could do but unfortunately I can’t.
To me he is the type of person who should be at Parsons or Juilliard.
One time for fun we even checked Juilliard tuition fees and fantasized about how fun it would be to go there.
The sad thing is I think he is an example of what happens to the creative flame that exists when we were kids. Some kids have parents who fan these flames into a roaring fire for all to see, while others cover it with the wet towel that is their reality. But they need to realise that their reality is gone, the reality of today is a reality that is accepting of art and of life.
This reminds me of what I was thinking about when I wrote Bucket lists
Every time, I make personal effort to fan those flames that seem to be dying before my eyes, because I believe it is one of the saddest things, when a person is unable to achieve their full potential because of lack of support.
By next month I would have spent two decades and a year on this blue, green, and brown planet we call earth.
This is not cause for celebration, apart from the fact that I can now drink in every sensible country in the world(not that I drink😅). But that is beside the point. I have realised that I’m in the same age decade as Adele, Ed Sheeran, Justin Bieber, and others, and I’m here twiddling my thumbs like.
It’s an annoying revelation because this is totally deviating from my plan. This m supposed to have been on the assigned path, with the goal clearly in sight, but we seem to have taken several detours and a U-turn , so much so that the goal is no longer visible.
But we hope that it is not too late to return to the original path, or at least a proper path to the goal.
Fingers crossed 🙏
When I started this blog I said I was going to blog about everything from fashion to random dancing.
Well I have seen 2 fashion weeks pass and the closest I have gotten to a front row seat is Twitter and my ever present Instagram.
London Fashion week for me was a period of discovery, not just of new trends but also new designers (at least new to me) from Monse to Dian Pelangi, and I have to tell you that nobody has a monopoly on creativity.
I’ve seen leather, floral from Balenciaga , lace from Rohmir and living headdresses and shawls. It’s so amazing.
Such things just make me wish I was showing my designs, but for now all I can do is sadly tweet ‘I wish I was there’ and like the pics on Instagram provided by a variety of accounts from Vogue to Fashion Scout.
But one day I will be there and not in the front row. Fingers crossed.
Yep it’s another day of recognition that I don’t think is really necessary.
I’m not against women, I just feel that we shouldn’t wait for the one day in a year when we can all put the #IWD on our Twitter timelines, or repost something about it on Facebook and Instagram and think this clears us of an entire year of forgetfulness about those people who without them you wouldn’t exist.
It’s like at Christmas and new year when all the people who haven’t spoken to you all year, bulk message you “Merry Christmas and a Happy New year”, it is a bit annoying.
I guess my point is we shouldn’t have to wait for a day to be sat aside for us to celebrate the women in our lives and around the world.
I am the most ‘honest’ person you’ll ever meet, depending on how close I am to you. But that’s not true.
There was a time when I used to think that total honesty was a good thing among friends, but experience has made me wise.
I understand periods of joking among friends, when they use some of the things you’ve told them in confidence to ‘insult’ you, but jokes should have a limit, especially when they are obviously hurting you.
Friends should support you and build you up, within reason, not, cause you to question yourself.
Personally, I am giving myself a stern talking to, just to avoid the disappointment that comes with trust.
At a point 100% honesty may be expected, but only when you are sure of who you are being honest with.