I have noticed that when the sun sets I’m in a pretty bad mood. It’s like all the pain comes flooding in again, emotional and physical, and I find it hard to be happy for other people.
But what I have found to be the greatest foundation for a metaphor is that if you give your emotions time to fade, or jisort (sort themselves out) , if you give it a couple of hours or days or weeks, you will find yourself waking up in the morning feeling and being better.
You will be glad that you gave it time.
The metaphor that is the reality of the sun setting on your sadness, and rising on the promise of new joy is beautiful.
It’s wisdom. And I Thank God for it.
Whatever you believe in, even if it’s noting, (no judgment here) I hope that you gain wisdom from it, and that it brings you renewed joy and far reaching peace every morning.
Happy end of March babies.
I love you. Thank you for being one of the reasons I stay sane and focused on my journey. Thank you for reading. Thank you for feeling with me.
We’ve made it to the last day of this celebration. And I have to say that this did me so much more good than I thought it would. So thank you for tagging along. Now for the finale! Today’s featured artist is Angie Ngugi!
“My name is Angie Ngugi, a poet, writer, feminist and medic who is passionate about telling stories and personal experiences through poetry.”
It’s not that you weren’t perfect, you were. It wasn’t the fact that you weren’t enough, you over flowed. You made me feel loved. You were gentle. I saw you today. I was a bit surprised to see you since last I heard you had moved to another part of town. Yet here you were, Right in front of me.
It had been two years since I last saw you, so a lot was going through my mind. You had changed, a little. You had a new spring in your step, you looked happy.
I was having a bad day so you were the last person I needed to see. I couldn’t faceyou, especially after how we ended things. My first instinct was to run and hug you. Muscle memory, I guess I wanted to ask you if life had been kind to you. Whether you finally accomplished all your dreams, Dreams that used to be ours But it wasn’t my place, anymore.
I watched you walk away from me, again I wish I hadn’t let you go but all I would have said was “It’s not that you weren’t perfect, you were. It wasn’t the fact that you weren’t enough, you over flowed. You made me feel loved You were gentle.”
And it just isn’t fair to drop that on someone Especially after two years, the AUDACITY. So I let you go, Like I did, two years ago.
Thank you all. For helping me grow in hope. I needed this.
So we are at day five of this post once a day celebration. And day *insert number here* of social and physical distancing / quarantine. So here is something different you can feast on. Bio below….
Hi people of the internets! I’m thesarcasticbanterist. I’m both moody and bubbly depending on who you ask. I live in the grey with occasional dips in black or white. I love writing. To me it’s like taking a chaotic bunch of wool and knitting an intricate sweater. Check out my blog if you are so inclined.
Every so often I look back at some of my most impactful friendships. In self reflection you can’t help but remember the people who either hurt you and left a dent or people you hurt to the point of pushing them away.
This is a draft of a letter I wrote to a friend once. A depressed friend. I’m not a psychologist. I didn’t know how to separate myself from a situation. I just soaked it all in like a sponge until I couldn’t tell myself apart from her problems. I had to learn to navigate depression from the seat of a friend. Mental health awareness is only in its infancy. Awareness on how to be the friend of a depressed person is only in its conception if being considered at all. Nobody talks about the resentment and guilt. It’s not trendy right now. I’m still learning but I’ve come such a long way. What I’ve learned is that sometimes compassion is a skill. An active process. It’s not always an automatic switch even if you love them.
‘There are few things I truly hate. One of them being words left unsaid between friends. I realise you may have a limited quota of things to care about at the moment. And I may not be in that list. Fair enough. You’ve said you hadn’t truly felt comfortable opening up to me but you did to some extent. I should’ve considered that a privelage. How many people can say we express even a fraction of our truest selves to. I can count on maybe one hand. I didn’t mean to undermine your suffering. But I can see how my actions reflected that. It is now that I realise something I’ve known but never truly appreciated as true, there’s a big difference between caring about someone and showing that you care about someone. I assure you you never stopped being one of my best friends. A person I deeply respected even if I fell short of showing it in recent times. I’ve been the worst example of a friend by allowing something as ugly as frustration and anger to soil something as pure as compassion. Five years is a long time. Or maybe it isn’t. It’s all perspective I guess. In a couple of decades you might not even remember my name. It was hard. Sometimes the person in front of me seemed locked away somewhere unreachable and in trying to get to you with the smallest chisel. Nobody denies your strength but being strong also means being able to admit when you are weak. . In my desperate attempt to change your mindset I set myself up for disappointment. But I want you to know that the world is not out to get you. There are people who do love you and want to see you do well. More importantly I hope you stop looking for love in all the wrong places. ‘
Thank you for your responses and love on this series. You amaze me daily.
Hey everyone. I hope you are keeping safe and practicing social and phsyical distancing. And quarantined if you are infected.
The Artist I’m featuring today Jon Mwangi. He is a poet, singer and event organiser.
Here is his piece.
I’m guilty from the moment I’m born, i’ve been a white man’s shadow for too long, the lion in me has been tamed, caged but still longing for air.
I’m not allowed to speak, when I’m pulled over the only thing I should do is put my hands on my dash board and make sure that the police is not threatened.
I have lived in fear, my consolation was not the stars, it was music, church and family. Cause you were guilty not by evidence but by the way you looked.
I’m sorry, I guess my dark complexion is intimidating cause I’m only built for greatness cause I know you scared of me, the way I aim for the stars still pushing Luther’s dream, sad to say
I’m a customed to pain, greatness has been my daily struggle, I have concived it and the only thing I’ll give birth to is only black excellence cause i’ll moon walk myself out off this chains of oppression so call me Django Unchained