Surviving the brutality of August
...dear diary, the eighth trip around the moon is almost coming to a full circle and I am still struggling to quantify where time has disappeared to. I must have been sucked into doing life through my unexciting daily routines and fascinations that spice up my desire to live an adventurously simple life.
...i am falling in love with the ordinary accepts of life as crucial revelations unfold in a familiar old-fashioned way. Like the sun creeping on another hopeful dawn, the taste of black coffee on my tongue, the giggles that echo in my house now and then, the aroma of homemade food, the rebirth of poetry and prose or the freedom it comes with.
...and nothing in all this drains me like the expectations I am known to pile on myself as it's finally sinking that some life lesson sits at the edge of whom I thought/think was/is the best version of myself and like the continually evolving being I am, a higher self awaits to deny any involvement in decision-making with my current/former self.
...it doesn't help that in any fickle war with my inner self, I evaluate my place and pace based on what has been ingrained here by living fearfully or whilst in survival mode overlooking every mental battle I have won against my loud inner voice.
...but somehow my pens always seem to find ways to drag me back home and the pain in my blood long became the ink that gets to set me free. And on this page, I am allowed to paint my shame however I please and in return, it transitions to some kind of power to silence my obnoxious ego.
...these words have carried my crumpled spirit across my most turbulent of seas and past the blackest of these skies. Unknowingly or intentionally, they telepathically clear paths when I feel lost and guide me back to my light or shrine and in this dying season it hasn't been any different.
...and so time might have slipped by but I am taking the minimal changes it has left behind as a sign that I survived amongst its most brutal phases. That my fatigued soul gets to look back at August and say that I survived it.
See you soon.
wambuku w.