Love is warfare


Our ‘Flight or Fight Instinct” is triggered when we start to fall in love.
Accelerated heart rate and breathing 
Elevated blood pressure
Release of adrenaline
Increased circulation to muscles and brain
Muscular contraction of stomach and intestines..

We have romanticised these warnings of course
We say:
“she made my heart skip a beat” 
“she took my breath away”
“he gives me butterflies in my stomach”
“I feel flushed and flustered around him”

As if these are not the same reactions our bodies have 
in times of high stress and danger,
like when we are facing a predator in the wild.

So falling in love is a form of trauma.
An existential survival warfare
which triggers our natural psychological reaction
honed through many years of evolution.

When your heart starts bounding in time to those drums of war
drop that heavy chainmail armour, lest it slow you down - and run.
Run while you can.
Run so maybe you can actually survive unscathed.

Juicy Raindrops! ♡

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By rights


Them: You’re an activist.
Me: Really? I don’t think so. 
T: Why not?
Me: Because I don’t have causes. I simply have things I believe in and that matter enough for me to speak about. That is not activism. It’s human rights.

 Juicy Raindrops! ♡

Happy Democracy Day!???

Mind your cuppa


That is the thing with this life. Not every cup of tea is yours. 

*this she thought as she watched the stevia flavoured tea go down the drain, rinsed out the cup and went away to make a new cup of tea* 


Juicy Raindrops! ♡
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(Lesson from discovering and experimenting with new tea blends and flavours).
This is the first and last time I try stevia as a sugar replacement.

By fire


Some times the words cannot bear it anymore and they force themselves out from within 
And I hear them
The ones she says and the ones she does not
Honestly sometimes I wish she would just say them all.
So we can get it all over with
I do not know if this slight regret I’ve begun to feel is mine
Or hers
Am I just empathically absorbing again 
Or is it all me?
50:50 maybe?

But regret is a useless emotion if you do not learn from it
So whether or not these feelings are inherently mine
I will take the lessons they teach me
And the ones I have been learning about being more open to the unknown 
I will take the lessons and I will live on.

I am not one to cry over spilled milk and closed doors
This, again, is another lesson I learned after repetitive storms
It is the gold line in the shape of butterfly wings that graces my back
It was a lesson learned by fire.

Juicy Raindrops! ♡

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Healed? or Hidden?


I’ve always thought I had to heal by myself 
No. That’s not completely true.

I found myself judged for some of my traumas 
- things I had kept bottled in my heart for years -
by the people I had told it to in trust so I could heal. 

This taught me to work through my healing process on my own. 
Otherwise, I did not count it as ‘real’ healing. 
I belied every other method of healing.

Having lived a few more years now, 
I’d like to correct my past self of her view on the topic 
and add some age acquired wisdom:

Healing is yours. 
It happens at your own time. 
Your own pace. 
Your own way. 

No one can take it from you. 
And no one can dictate it for you. 

If healing for another means finding justification in someone else
Then let them go for it.
Yes it is a road filled with uncertainty and danger 
but they could have better support than you did back then. 

Some people are fortunate enough to come together as two broken souls 
and heal each other just by being together and accepting each other. 

It is admirable that you want to do it on your own and are also capable of it
And maybe you don’t have it in you to trust anyone else with that position of power again
But healing is healing, my dear
in whatever form it comes.
You might not approve of some of its manifestations.
But I hope you learn to recognize when it is truly what it is. 

Having said that, 
healing is not self destructive. 
And sometimes having that support could help you heal quicker and better 
There is no reward for HOW you heal
Just as long as you do 
Healing is its own reward. 

So don’t swat away that reaching hand 
Or that steady presence because of your old wounds 
What this shows me now actually is that perhaps
just perhaps, 
those wounds never truly healed at all. 
You just buried them under mounds of subcutaneous cells 
like the body does with the tuberculosis bacteria.
You have built fortress walls around yourself 
higher than those of the Colosseum in its glory days. 
That is not healing honey, 
that is hiding. 

And, I am going to say this now because someone has to.. 
over the last couple of years
you have completely perfected this role.

You are not healed. 
You are simply in hiding.


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Juicy Raindrops! ♡

(It seems I channeled my inner Gretchen for this one, she would be proud).

Heartfelt truths


You want me to trust you with my heart
To trust you to not change your mind 
To not alter when alteration finds.

My heart desires an ever fixed point 
Assurance you can not give it 
And my heart will not settle for less.

Cowardice it might be 
But truth it is. 

Juicy Raindrops! ♡
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The tenant


“Come back home” the voice said softly, cajoling me with that tone I have never been able to say no to.

Don’t you see?
Can’t you see?
A place you can kick me out of when I no longer fit the slot you created for me is not home.
It is a rented space 
And I pay rent by continuing to conform to your rules and perceptions
Without creating any ripples 
Or raising my voice above a soft whisper.

This is not home
You are my landlord and I am nothing but a measly tenant 
Begging for scraps, extensions and a warm place to lay my head at night. 

This is not home
Not a place I can rest in comfort without fear.

You... are not my home.

Juicy Raindrops! ♡
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Choosing forever

She turned to face the room with her tearstained face
Never taking her eyes off him she said softly:
I choose him.

She cleared her throat and said loudly, almost forcefully:
I CHOOSE HIM.
For every day for the rest of my life,
I choose him.


Juicy Raindrops! ♡
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be wary of the writer


Preface
I am a writer. Take everything you read with a grain of salt.
I can romanticize the peal of thunder and destruction of a nation 
while demeaning the Amazonian butterfly and its fluttering wings. 

I can do the reverse of both too.
In the same piece even when I feel like it.

I can be overly expressive, barely coherent and yet speak of emotions so honest 
it will make you pause and reflect for a few moments. 

I am a writer. Be wary of my words.
And yet, know that each one is truth every single time. 

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Juicy Raindrops! ♡

How to quit smoking


Maybe I shouldn’t use so much gasoline. Or maybe I need more? Hmm.. I’ve never had to start a bonfire before. I took the pages from all the dreams and hopes I had and made a little hill of them. There were photographs of things I thought would be, things I had romanticised and wanted to make a reality of - just by the power of my desire. But relationships need actual work and time. Like a sapling they need water, food, good soil and at least 6 hours of sunlight daily to grow. We gave too much of some and much too little of the others. There was no balance and so we stagnated and now are dry and brown in several significant places and not even super-gro can save us anymore.

I take a deep, long draw from the cigarette in my hand and I give the pages and photographs a last cursory look. I never thought it would come to this, you see. I kept holding out hope that things would only get better. That with age and wisdom we would only understand each other more but the reverse seems to be happening. We are mis-communicating even more everyday and my heart keeps hurting. Our sapling has no more leaves on it and looks like a toothpick stuck in pot of mud.

/another draw of the cig/

I cannot keep living this way. This is my biggest trauma and as it is one that i keep reliving daily i am unable to heal. I keep poking at it and even when I do not, new ones are inflicted upon me. I do not like who I am sometimes. The reactions that have become my default setting to protect myself, to protect my little ones, to keep the peace, to do as my Lord says. Responsibilities that shouldn’t be mine alone .. excess baggage i carry.. bleeding all over those who do not know of my injuries. 

/another draw of the cig/

This is on me. We are a culmination of all our life choices and I have everyday made the decision to stay, deny the obvious and even go as far as to call it unconditional love.

/watching the smoke i exhale merge with the wind and get blown away/

I do not think I can keep living like this. Not if i want to maintain even a shred of sanity anyway. And while sanity isn’t something I particularly advocate for, being a psych ward breakout and all, even I have to admit that this is the kind of sanity I absolutely need to live a wholesome life with whatever time I have left here. They say to quit smoking, you have to not put cigarettes in your mouth one day at a time. What better time to begin than right now?

/tosses unfinished cig on mountain of broken dreams and watches the flames instantly come to life/

I thought it would hurt to watch the flames rise. Instead I feel lighter as if I have finally stopped fighting against a current determined to flow the other way. Maybe this is what Mr Tolle meant about giving off a negative charge. I thought I understood that line but in this moment I find that it has new meaning for me. Imagine that. 

/watches the flames as they begin to die/

I think I’m ready to begin healing now.

/walks away finally/

Juicy Raindrops! ♡

P.s.:
I am raw right now writing this. I haven’t had a chance to read it over, edit and make it ‘pretty’ and ‘cohesive’. I didn't draft this like the rest and come back to edit it weeks or even months later. I apologise for any typos and inconsistencies. However, this is me right this very moment. Because this is big. It matters. and this feel right right now. So I will publish this now. As it is. As i am.

Not defined by numbers


I do not want my life,
my level of happiness and fulfilment,
or even my moods to be determined by numbers.

Not the number on the scale or
my bank account or 
the years i have lived or
the time i have left or 
the number of followers and subscribers or
of business sales, ad clicks and balance sheets.

These are numbers that i will have to come across in the course of my life 
and damn right i will work hard for some of them 
so i can live the kind of life i want
so i can eat good food, get medical aid, pay for knowledge, help others and travel.

But in no way do i want these numbers to become my definition. Not even close. 

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Juicy Raindrops! ♡

Mr Tolle again


“Whatever the present moment contains, accept is as if you had chosen it. Always work with it, not against it. Make it your friend and ally, not your enemy. This will miraculously transform your whole life.” 
- Eckhart Tolle

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He thinks I’ve forgotten it all. He doesn’t know the number of beats my heart skipped whenever I saw those numbers flashing on my screen calling.

I never took it for granted. Maybe I should have told him when it mattered. 

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Juicy Raindrops! ♡

Nox


Do you ever just marvel at the wonder of life and all it entails?

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Juicy Raindrops! ♡

Lumen


Do you ever just get exhausted with life and all it entails?

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Juicy Raindrops! ♡

Shey na juju be this?


How can I miss you after I just saw you? 
How can you linger on my mind like a broken record?
Or those awful supermarket jingles?
Why does my heart keep imprints of the places where you touched it? 
How can I want you this badly even after all this time? 
What exactly have you done to me?

Juicy Raindrops! ♡

*Shey na juju be this? = Isn’t this black magic? (Pidgin English)

Shades of grey


You see, we are not just simply black or white 
Sorry love, it is not that easy. 
We humans are complicated 
We are varying shades of grey. 
All of us. 
From the pious to the most depraved. 

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Juicy Raindrops! ♡

to my Saviour


Thank You
Thank You 
Thank You
It is everything i want to say
and yet it is barely enough.

Thank You.

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Juicy Raindrops! ♡

How?


And when you asked me why I don’t come to you on my dark days.

I couldn’t understand it. 


How could I explain to you that I didn’t know how?


Juicy Raindrops! ♡

A light lost to time


You know I’ve often wondered if anyone would notice.
If there would be any kind of memorial for that piece of my soul i would give up to become Serenity.
Would the ones who knew her before mourn the loss of her light?
Her naivety? Her almost childlike wonder of the world around her?
Would they even notice? And if they did, would they shrug it off as expected?
Would they sigh in relief that she had finally “grown up”?
When she makes new friends and meets new acquaintances
Will they tell them about the light they had missed?
Would they lament over it
And cherish they memories of she who had been lost to time?

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Juicy Raindrops! ♡
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