13 Authors who inspire me

Its Thursday 13 once more, so here my list of most read and inspirational authors I love. In no particular order:

  1. Silvia Plath
  2. Oscar Wilde
  3. Stephen King
  4. Virginia Wolf
  5. Maya Angelou
  6. Robin Cook
  7. Barack Obama
  8. Ernest Hemingway
  9. J.K. Rowling
  10. Irene B. Brand
  11. Sydney Sheldon
  12. C.S. Lewis
  13. Zadie Smith
Advertisements

Being A Woman (False Love)

Words? Which words? Clothed with that feeling. This fleeting moment seems to be too much. I can’t deal. Times steals memories and heals memories again. I had hoped it to be more gentle this time, like rain. I had prayed so hard, my knees felt the roughness of the carpet that morning. My heart thumping and heavily sounding, I prayed. Not for me, not for you but for life. For forgiveness because I tend to carry things unnoticeable till fears fall like tears from my eyes. I have seen it all, heard it all. I have listened to people plot pleasing me just because they can. Just because pretense was more easy for them than not being absent. I have massaged out emotions that have anchored me down. Have found a place in the sea where my bottle with a letter inside, slowly subsides and I wish to find it on the sea shore each morning I let my feet me embraced by the beach water. Intentionally wash away my identity. Where I walked: bare feet on lands with thorns that pricked my skin. I have been meaning for you to not ask me my name, Not yet, not now. I had hoped my experiences will dilute the desire for you to know me. To look just at the make up on my face, making up for lost times. I had been bruised, yes! But I did not know. I did not want to know that I was hurting. It felt like they would never get the pain I harbor. He branded me with fists, I was his. My words were not to be considered, I just existed in his eyes. But I never knew that that was abuse till someone told me it was. He did not pretend to understand why I could not see that. He plainly told me so. And his name, too, can not be revealed because his kindness you are not yet to know, yet, not now. This is a journey to recovery, once more. This journey of being a man with a womb in this part of the world. This is my story.

Rite of passage: After Birth

Its Monday night, thinking of the event on Saturday. I’ve been kept inside the house for sometime, now, 3 months to be exact. It was a time frame for me to heal  and bond with my baby. Being a mother, is a bliss. I have learnt a lot from expectations to taboos concerning being kept home. Made me appreciate my culture even more. I, for one, am not complaining. I have had time to catch up on lost time and rest, which is hard for me to do. So on the 1st December,my skin will be kissed by the sun. The thought of it, its breathtaking, I can’t almost wait. So, a lot of my friends and relatives are coming over, they’ll be music, food and hopefully the weather shall be friendly.

Well, I haven’t picked up a dress yet but I will have to wear this short blanket on my shoulders with a pin on.  And a headscarf. According to Ngwao ya Batswana,(Batswana culture) I have to’ look’ like a mother. That dress should be bought before Friday.

Pictures shall be shared after the event. So that you can see Botswana through my eyes.

Have an inspiring night!

P.A.W.

Dear Diary

Its late night and I dream of freedom. Coming to my doorstep and invading my privacy like a whiff through my windows. I think him to cut the chains loosening this anchors of pain. As I stay still watching flowers on my window pane. I buried these secrets inside my heart, this broken heart which pumps blood out of the rivers they run within. They have dried up my tears, revealed my fears for all to see. My eyes have looked away and I have locked myself inside my bedroom, under my bed where its comfortable. No one can see me there, breathing and trapped. No one sees the scars from wounds of before. The door has kept that all out. So I slept under there but I woke up cold so I had to get to bed. Then I lay there, eyes wide open and he came in, uninvited, I did not know how much I needed a breath of fresh air till then. That is how I was able to tell you this.

Till next week

P.A.W.

Hectic

Been unable to share anything for a while now, its a hectic life but hey! We live it.

Lately I have started to read Woman to woman by Joyce Meyer. Started watching Suits and love it! Started playing my guitar again, going back to what gives me that kick. Well, it has been a start of many, many things, some re-visits. Will share more as time goes on, for now, thank you for stopping by.

Have an inspiring day!
P.A.W.