For i am a traveller of the winds,
Home is everywhere i dont hover,
Dont judge me for having my wings,
For i am one of many covers.
(My bestfriend♡, has been advising me to try poetry for a while now. With that i figured i could specifically use it for this article…but…alas!. It’s a raincheck for now)
Now back to my journey of life. You are prolly here to read how i fell in love and got heartbroken then sat at a corner. With a bunch of tissues stuck up my nose, a bottle of vodka and whatelse. Beating some wall and slowly sliding down the edge to my knees.Well😂😂
As much as the 20 years of my life gave me enough reasons to do all that screenplay, am sorry if you will be rather disheartened to hear this, however i was just composed and normal through it all. Nevertheless i have a hunch, if i was ever given such a part in my drama club, i would have made the perfect nature. So yes! i joined drama at some point in my life, and while it lasted, i enjoyed.
Okay let’s rewind<<. I’ll take you back to the wonderful kid i was while growing up.
I was always sunny and good- humoured as i can remember. Then my dad was always my smile keeper. I wouldn’t even sleep earlier than he came home and when he was extremely late he would find me crashed on some space. Watching some baby Huey series in the name of waiting. Ofcourse he wasn’t empty handed😂
Then I grew up(lol). Whatever that means! but i was at a point in life where the reasons to stay awake at night were multiplied. The long replies, secret calls and texting past midnight. I would wake up late and sleep late, that does not make me a rebellious teenager however. (not that much).
And life was better like that. I loved the transformation and the feeling it brought along. The engrossment to writing started insensibly but the need was just basic, so my notebook and a secret locked diary were my secret keepers for a while. I used to keep them under the pillow, somewhat i had this false idea that whatever i wrote would be actualized in my dreams. I don’t know your reason to keeping your dairy under the pillow or mattress, but that was mine😂.
Sometimes i would think of burning whatever i was writing especially after being disappointed. But my dear diary assured me to just keep writing.
Afterwards i was outgoing atsome point. First i had a group of friends then it was narrowed down to one best friend. We did everything together. We ran in games, we even wrote together and then, the only thing that mattered was our friendship. Times went on as somethings were taken away from my life while others just kept coming.
And basically that has been it. I stop at some moments to think about the many times life has given me a blow, one i thought i would never recover for instance. But the diplomatic ways i have learned in my journey to deal with all stresses both acute and chronic are just automatic.
See, it’s not much of a story. Only two decades and here i am with what’s left and what am still uncovering. Most times i like to think my life not as story but a journey. A story has some attachment to the ending but a journey is never clinging.
I like saying that i am only a traveller in my own life enjoying the uncertainty of what is coming and leaving at the same time. It’s the balance of it all. However am only sure of one thing that:
Whatever i have collected along the way is meant to be my accessory while as for the leave outs, they are better as the roadblocks they are.
(So with that stated i would like to post the full poem at the beginning, just not to disappoint someone 😂 if you think poetry is something i could use in my writing, then i would love to hear from you.:-)
(Pens up!) Say it with me…