I’m broken, and these are my pieces

-
I am a thinker, any situation that occurs sends me spinning in a cyclone of thoughts. I love to put myself at the heart of it. I love to figure me out, but I don’t entirely. So yes, I overthink most of the time.

I came into the world, and as a normal infant I knew nothing about what awaits. My folks say I was the best, you know chill and loved to sleep. So I was definitely fun to babysit. If only I could bring to mind when I started to draw the line between the vice and virtue; but I am convinced that is when I started to fall apart.

From then say the two parts (good and bad) have propagated into a myriad of pieces. I recently asked people to describe me and no one gave a similar response to the other. And I anticipate that, owing to the fact that I don’t behave the same way around everyone for obvious reasons.

If you met me 8 years ago you would realize that I wouldn’t hold a conversation for more than five minutes. I was very timid and reserved. Not long after back in high school it hit me that I couldn’t be timid in such an aggressive society. I needed to stand up for myself and maybe in some instances, be rogue. With such comes a condescending nature, deception, anger etc.

I've had my share of let downs and most of the time I come out a little different

Now I’m grown up and indulge in relationships. I have been more aware of my family; the secrets it has had to keep to stay together. Some discoveries have switched my position on some issues by 360 degrees.  From sibling rivalry, anger is bred and wariness and so on. Subtly I carry on these to relationships to friends and every time anything gets erratic a baby vice or virtue is born.

Actually it’s is more natural to be changed by these shattering jiffies. Every sore moment has altered me to some extent. The betrayal, disappointments, unfaithfulness, distrust and the list goes on to infinity. So I am amazing, unpleasant, spirited, funny, moody, awesomely enigmatic, jumpy, lively. I am a billion things depending on what piece of me you stepped on while you bumped into me. Everyone who knows me holds on to a different fragment and some happen to have a basket full of them.

For those reading this with hollow baskets; I’m not filling them up, not today. You may have to bow a little and pick one for yourself, and expect anything. The dice won’t stop rolling, and as long as life goes on I won’t stop breaking. But these are the shards of a beautiful girl…
I could have a piece for everyone, that's the beauty of brokenness

 This is Chapter 2 of the “Ghost behind the blog”.

Comments

Post a Comment

Yey, you read!

Popular posts from this blog

Survival for the loudest chap

-
Image
It's a Friday night in an eighth full matatu(team positivity) and I'm going wherever the party's at. I'm a little frustrated from frantic calls I'm getting from another fella and I won't pick them anyway. A raggedy brother hops in, looks around and he settles for where I am. I'm mad, what are all these empty se ats for? I know I'm not looking pretty as my hair is held back with no much thought put into neatness. I'm in a trenchcoat and some random pants I jumped into hurriedly. Or it's that thing they say about you being who you att ract? I'm actually mad because he has a boiled maize on his left that he's gnawing at unapologetically and a fat avocado on his right. Wait, no, that's no crime. It's his chewing that's getting to my nerves. "You can have a bite," he offers with his mouth full and pointing the maize at me. I'll pass lawfully. My reason being chewing maize is exhausting for me, so I'm
Read more

Cold Feet

-
“It’s obvious that by now you know I like you a lot.” “What?” I retort with a cheeky face I make when I’m trying to downplay these situations. “I do, and it feels like you’re stealing my heart ma’am.” “But I am a career criminal Sir, you shouldn’t be surprised.” My humour kicks in and I’m getting excited. “I can’t have you running in the streets free like that, I should cuff you sometime.” “Well, catch me if you can!” and I cough faintly. “Ok, get your witty ass in we got to go.”   I have a cold but he says we should go out. He insists and fine, I let him have it. I could manage. We drive off to grab some burgers at the mall and catch up in an open space. He says staying indoors and cuddling up with my teddy bear, Bubbles, doesn’t help. He speaks like an indigenous Kenyan and I totally understand. He says I look good today. With my blue cardigan sweater, jeans and bata ngomas. “But my eyes are bloodshot don’t you see? “But I said what I said Monique.” His inner self mus
Read more

The Zombie Apocalypse

-
Image
I look at generational gap in so many ways, and my parents just make it clear how lost they feel living amongst us. Well, my dad made it even crisper, ha-ha. I had my series in CDs and would leave them at the TV area. So someday, my dad got ahold of walking dead which he chose to watch at night, mistake number one. All we could hear was him gasping, “My goodness!” every other two seconds in some kind of tone. Worse, he was alone in the living room. My old man is brave, those zombies are driving him crazy but he keeps on, until when he realizes that this thing won’t end. Well, he wasn’t raised watching series. So he relinquished the trauma! I too, got really cold chills watching XYZ but my amusement couldn’t let me back down till I got used to them, even horror movies don’t do nothing to me anymore, except Hannibal. It’s a thriller that apprehends me, and I need the lights on to get through it. All this time I zoom into the film industry asking myself why? I mean what are these
Read more