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I’m sad, hurt and angry.

Scratch that!

I am mostly angry.

At you, at me, at the world and this seemingly bleak looking situation.

As I lie here mulling over everything that has happened this past month, I try to convince my heart that the best is definitely yet to come.

But how can one truly convince self, when I don’t even believe what I mutter?

How long must I travel to find respite?

How hard must I struggle to find that which I seek?

Where do I go for a moment of peace?

These questions and more keep me up most nights.

Let me just say, this was not the plan.

The climb was not supposed to tarry this long…

Neither were these mountains supposed to seem so insurmountable.

Help was supposed to be a prayer away.

And so were you.

Before you question the rant, I know where the almighty resides and Psalms 121 also happens to be a personal favorite bible passage.

I just need to rant, to explain in bits and pieces to you, something I’m yet to figure out.

I just needed to write, to release this odd mix of hurt and anger I feel.

You see, I’m worried. About my world and many other uncertainties hounding me.

But most especially I’m bothered about the never-ending family drama, heartaches and brouhaha.

*deep sigh*

They said dreams ain’t easy and that I had to stick to my guns.

They promised that by choosing to be happy even when my inner man was breaking, I was always going to be a little closer to the goal.

It’s now obvious, they lied. They probably thought they knew exactly what I needed.

All this stereotyped writers.

They don’t.

I doubt that there’s one straight road leading to where I’m headed.

I think maybe I need to clear a bushpath and start the march.


From the top.

Truth is, I get that these hurdle are meant to teach me…to toughen me.

The only thing is I just don’t seem to see an end.

So tell me: when does it all ease up…this fear, this pain, the panic attacks and paranoia?

When do I resume deep breathing?

This shallow breathes might soon be the death of me.

Are you there?

Can you hear me?

I think I’m suffering from a dampened spirit.

So where do cracked spirits go?



I am the personification of Brutally blunt and Witty. I love my jokes funny, my music loud and my gists, colourful. I live my life by rules- my rules- and make no apologies for why I act the way I do. I define creativity as the act of evolving and evolving... Suffice to say that life and I are on first name terms- he is crazy about me too!


  1. A turn left, travel two clicks then turn right. Destination? BrokenSpiritsville. iKnow because iHave lodgings there. Good thing though, every morning iAwake and join the Hope shuttle outta there. Bless u dearie.

  2. This was after a talk with a certain person yea????


    *Big hug* This is just the beginning…

    You shld look for the light @ d end of the tunnel.

    That should be ur focus..

    It will all get better in time.

  3. Never commented on ur article b4 but possibly read all! Nice read as usual but u’ve been missing in action 4 awhile.As franque said jump on d hopesville shuttle nd leave d rest to obinigwe cos he’s d gbogbotigbo! Ciao nd have a blessed weekend!

  4. I like how easy it is to pontificate and offer pats on the back and words of advice when we find companion broken spirits.

    Whilst the words come easy, and can sometimes be a condescending balm, it helps.

    Respite. Hope. End.

    They’ll come, eventually.

    Stay strong, Soldier

  5. c’est tres beau ca! je ressens la même chose dans mon coeur en ce moment. *hugs* merci de me donner l’inspiration d’etre plus forte même dans les moments difficiles…

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