Grief

Though my grief takes me to much different places,
I still have an idea, vague,
Of how it feels to be too broken to pray
And too shaken to have something to say
Life's greatest pain is sadness
Love's greatest pain is parting. Forever.
Because I may never understand your sorrow
And I can not lie to you that you will feel better tomorrow
Just know that I'll pray for you when you can't say a word
And I'll even shed a tear on your behalf... Because sometimes,
Sometimes it is okay not to be okay.

Megan Omare.
Wednesday, January 15th 2013

Letter to a 14.05 year old Me.

Recently I was insulted.
Yes, this is my blog and I shall unashamedly vent.
So anyway I was hurt not so much by the way person Y insulted me but more by how they thought I was reacting to the insult. See, they said something mean and in their head they thought I was reacting because I believed what they said but in actual sense what I was reacting to was this person's mindset that two people cannot agree to disagree. Also I was vexed by the way Y doubted my ability as an adult to have a wrong unchangeable opinion.
Well, I did throw a tantrum. One of those lock-yourself-in-your-room-throw-and-break-everything-kind of flip outs.
I felt better, then I felt bad. Really bad. This was because I felt like I was still this 14 year old kid who did not how to handle moodswings.
But then I was hit by one of those rare moments of clarity and I realized I was wrong to feel that way. I had changed and the difference between me and 14 year old me was the simple reality that at 14 I did not understand but now I understood.
I understood that I am an introvert and that's what introverts do, have unexplainable outbursts when they get tired of bottling everything inside. I understood that it was one of those simple things about my temperament that I could not change completely only learn to live with. I also understood that at 20 something, I was anything but ashamed of being this way.

Anyway... the whole point of writing that was to create a sort of prelude to this letter which was inspired partly by that outburst but mostly by this random article I stumbled upon

 http://www.wamathai.com/letter-to-my-thirteen-year-old-self/

Dear Me at 14yrs and 3 weeks,

I hope this letter puts a smile on your face because Lord only knows you need one. This is Me, a 20 year old version of you. A version of you that is way different from who you are now.Slightly different actually but still different.  Anyway I'm not good at letters because in the future we do WHATSAPP so I'll be very brief and to the point. I have good news, remember item number 3 on that list you wrote of things to do by the time you turn 18, well you do it. I only wish you hadn't put it on the list because it's not something you'll be very proud of. But anyway that should give you hope that dreams(even the most inappropriate)  do come true. But one thing you should learn before it's too late is never to take anything or anyone for granted for example Dad. Actually, especially, Dad.
Another important thing I'd like you to know is that you will make a very big mistake in your life. I wish you won't but there is nothing I can possibly do to change this but you may as well know it. The biggest mistake you shall ever make is not loving yourself enough and not being proud to be you. It costs you a lot, and later on it leads you to make another tragic mistake; believing you are not worth it. Child, if you can, I beg of you change this.(I still write this even if I know it is an exercise done in futility)
But other than that I don't have much to say.
I mean your braces come off and you have this love-hate relatonship with your smile afterwards but at least you do meet someone who falls in love with it, but that's a bit irrelevant.So we shall end it there.
Hugs and kisses,

Me at 20yrs and 4 months.

PS.
There is more to life than being a couch potato.
Also,  your eczema does not go away completely, sadly.

PSS.
Being this quiet bookworm isn't such a bad thing because someone actually thought you were cool. Just don't friendzone him accidentally at 18 when you start to come out of your shell.
;-)

Philosophical Anthropology, Feminists and Trying... Blogging Day 1

So I have started blogging.Again. But this time I'll try to be serious. Emphasis is on the word TRY. The last two years of my journey as a writer(well retired because I dont write the way I used to earlier) can be described using that three letter word. TRY.
It starts with me TRYING to wake up early one day and saying how I will TRY to work harder and be more of the that writer girl I was back then. So I TRY. I grab this classic that's been gathering dust in my room and put it in my bag and say I will TRY to read it in that crazy traffic on my way to campus. When I get to school I do TRY to read it in between sending unnecessary text messages and having random conversations. Then somewhere in the middle of a boring lecture where I can barely keep my eyes open, I decide to pen down a few random lines. Actually I TRY.
I guess that's how I know I'm not the writer/poet I used to be because coming up with those three lines is a struggle. But thanks to a boring Dr. Whoever, at the end of those two hours I do have something. It isn't all that good but at least it's something right?
And pretty much that is where the story ends.
I don't get to reading that classic.
And when I get home and log on to my social media page and see how so many people around me are doing it big with their talents and all I have to show for my gift is a few quickly scribbled lines, I do feel guilty. I have a gift but I confess I tend to sit on it a little bit too much. What's worse is that though I would rather die in silence than admit this to anyone, Daddy wouldn't want me to be wasting my gift the way I do.
So I tell myself that the next day I will try harder. And I do, kind of.

To sum it up I can say that guilt did make me try starting a few blogs which I abandoned after a few posts.
 
But I am done being that kind of a girl. So this time when I say I will try... It is for real.

I recently reconnected with some old friends who inspired me a lot.
And aside from the joyous feeling of being with people who share your same passion for earrings, nail polish and all things feminine, the reason they inspired me was the warmth I felt being with them. Being with them, I was reminded that I am loved and accepted the way I am and that gave me even more energy to be that quiet writer girl I am. See it had been two years since I had seen most of them but really it felt like it had only been a minute.
Now that is how you know who your real people are.

THANK GOD FOR THE GIRLS.


Anyway... I'm back in Campus. A lot of philosophy units this time round.




While I was sitting during one of those lecturers I had a moment of poetic inspiration.
And well let the poetry speak for itself here....

 PHILOSOPHICAL ANTHROPOLOGY: DAY 1
Because man's level of humanity is gauged by his decisions in relation to others
and faith can be viewed as an illusion baseless because it lacks a base that can be proved Socratically
In a society premised on philosophy, morality and all such like marking schemes...
That really leaves no room for a liberal mind whose only unchangeable opinion is that we are because God is.
It is necessary for the question to be asked
were we really made to believe that life is really this complex??
you know what... screw Philosophy.

Megan Omare
November 13th 2013.