On Struggles... And Bling.

"The Struggle Continues For Greater Horizons." That was my primary school motto. Kitante Primary School. It does sound quite philosophical. Like the tons of deep phrases out there that make you think the moon is an aim away. Albeit an imaginary aim. I am with Mos Def on this one. No one's really been to the moon. I mean, how would we know? If you're remotely intuitive, you should realize by now that this isn't going to be one of those believe-you-can-and-you-will sessions. It's a very down& low post. This woman is fighting. Against life-as it is right now. The currents have sworn battle, the gods are in the mood to play human chess& I am their current toy-victim. Even fashion is in the mix. I couldn't find my choice of lipstick at any beauty shop all weekend.

So, you said Maureen, right?

In brief, my fists are bunched up, my helmet is on, but I keep bouncing off the walls I'm trying to break. Mostly because the elements of life that are these walls, are made of steel.
Battle Hardened Steel. Meet the forces up in arms against me.

Grain-Sized Faith.
The Good Book tells me that if I should but have the faith of a mustard seed....Right now, I'll be grateful for for pepper seed-sized faith. Yes, to believe is an easy thing. One day, I will afford a cappuccino maker. But to believe when all is falling apart around you, when all that matters the most is crumbling, and not responding to your panicked prayers.
How is one meant to find faith when not even one aspect of one's life has some form of stability? How do you believe in a better day, when each passing day brings more gloom?
How do I believe in a just God when all I see is pain? and anger? The pain of those I only see on TV I can ignore. The pain of those that matter to me shreds my heart to bits.
How do I believe in happy endings when the road to said end is only filled with thorns& more aches? Now would NOT be a good time to mention Cinderella or any character from the Fairy tale neighbourhood. Faith gets you through life's current messy mess. But right now, I am siding with Thomas.
A clear sign from above would be welcome.

So, Hmmm...It is kinda freezing in here...

The Love That Never Comes.
Love is taking her time getting to me. Oh yes, I have semi-experienced love. The mostly-fake, "not meant to last- I know-it -will-lead to-no-good-but, What The Hell??;I am in." That type of love.
If you can call it love. I believe in love. Partly because movies such as "A Walk To Remember" are in existence. Mostly because I believe in God. And more mostly because Amy Lee& Seether went& did that" Broken" song. 
But to the heart of the matter. I have seen more pain, more loss, more tears& more disappointment come out of love& love's assumptions than I have joy, or gladness, or diamond rings. I loveeee diamonds.Yes.
Love has proven to be elusive.

Aim better, Love-god.

I am not desperate, no. But am also not the sort that will settle for anything less than a racing heart, promises of semi-blackout physical unions& a deeply embedded love of God. Plus monogamy.
Especially monogamy. 
So, am stuck here waiting on....something that has only worked against me thus far. I have broken hearts; very knowingly. I have have taken heartless to new levels. In attempts at something akin to love. 
Also, I have been broken. I have died on the inside, hardened on the outside, and had everything in between wither away. 
But I remain hopeful. One day, a certain stranger will smile at me, I shall smile back, and this frost around my heart shall melt. And the fear of hurt will be conquered. With his arms around me. And a big rock for me.

Hellooooo Darling...

                                                                    

Me Has A Dream

And my dream, it is very hazy. Almost like I am actually sleeping& dreaming about what my dream should be like but it is not exactly very clear, mostly because I am actually awake Capiche? Non? Me neither.

That's how dire the situation with my dreams is. Dream actually. I am on the right path-dream wise. I know that for sure. But when the path to my dream(s) gets jammed with a number of nightmares, I...well...I do not. WTH? I get mad. 

Let me tell you how frustrating it is, when having finally put your life's vision in perspective ( you figure out what you're good at, get your behind on the road that will get you to that dream, at least it should point you to the Main Dream Road). And then what you are good at decides it doesn't want to be excelled at any more.
I have failed to write anything for weeks. My favourite music hasn't helped, neither has Maya Angelou. Reading my own blog didn't help much. It just reminded me that my finally-on-the-road dream was slowly burning out. 

Crumpled Dreams

Allow me to point out that writing is what I love best. I need my inspiration source to wake up& realize I die when I can't write. 
Oh, I smile, and laugh. But I die. Because my words are my connection to life's source. Not writing means I'm disconnected from God, somehow. And that drains me in ways no words can aptly describe.
Writing is my life. And I am fighting for dear life right now. 


Blasts From The Past.
The past should be left alone.Mostly because it is over& done with. But more because we cannot go back& change it. Am sure God had a very good reason for this particular plan of action, or rather lack of action.
Say, God, being able to change the past might work for us all. We'd go back& uninvent formal schooling. Look at all the damage; home work, atomic bombs, George Bush...And men would give birth ( I see every female solemnly agreeing)....
But the powers that be didn't think it wise to enable us change our past. You'd think I'd have learnt the reason behind that by now. Nope. Poor, poor God.
My past has become my present. Not in a wise way-thingy. In a," But if I don't find a way to let go really soon, I'll soon be a case study for failure-to-move-on-psycho illness" sort of way.
I want to let go. I want to move on. I want my heart& whatever other organ aches each time I remember the past, to stop hurting. But how do I let go of some one I let so close? How do I let go of the person that made it a point to engrave themselves on to me? How am I supposed to forget everything? Pretend we never were? How do I make my friends see that the reason it gets so hard is not because it was all roses? But precisely because, the thorns were almost non existent? Except the one that took you away.

How do I let go of Stella when I somehow start to talk to her each night? Especially when it all hurts like hell? You think I am weird? I don't know who else I'll allow to see me that way. How do I stop cursing her& being mad at God for taking her away so soon? Just how do you get over the death of one of your soul mates?

I Miss You 'Ella.

The past has become my shadow. It clings to me& sticks to anything that will evoke the semblance of a memory. Blowing old life into new mornings, and further haunting the nights. How do I get over my favourite jeans failure to fit perfectly because they will not make friends with my hip add-ons??
The past.This struggle is hardest.
The fight against time is futile. Unlike dreams, faith and love, there is no story where time succumbs to the pressure of happy endings. Always gets her way. Her way to the future.
"Wounds heal,
Scars remain.
Whether we want to, someday we stop clinging,
And move on."
So, in a post, I am fighting. Against all the elements that seem intent on taking the light out of my eyes. I am fighting because I will not live a life minus my God. Because I will not give up on love, scarred heart be damned. And most of all, because I will not live in the shadows of what could have been. Shadows are dark.
And darkness simply means, life is out the door.

OK. Moving On. To LIFE.