For millennials: 21

 

Journaling

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There is no warmth in waiting for the right time. The patience will sting harder than the truth you believe about holding on.

Misery becomes more appealing.

“may you be defined by your boldness in running through dry and dark cracks.”

I’d get into the bus sometimes, most times with my headphones banging loud music out its tiny speakers.

Sitting by windows is my favourite thing. My eyes get to count coloured and grey houses, watch trees and many other greens. I often begin to play rhythmic music in a lowered volume to feel the same feeling I get when watching good scenery movies. I deviate into solitude and just observe.

It is powerful.

The only regular thought I’ve known is home, it’s sometimes with me and other times I fear to think of its broken tone.

I’ve watched myself grow with strangers that I call friends. I’ve been shaken by subtle disagreements imposed by the universe in openness.

I seldom believe we are all here, just making history and not living well enough. We will all die surviving with or without purpose.

“In love, the purest of our souls’ manifest.

In love, we succumb to humility and fear without coercion.

In love, we tell our stories in ways we wish they existed.”

Can you read the signs through my saggy eye bags?

I’m knackered by pressure from my wants and the wants I’m expected to want.

I heard mum’s voice on WhatsApp call and she sounded like 50 hasn’t been good to her. I’ve been thinking of her in a sweet way lately. In a way I would spoil her with happier days if she were here.

“Be generous and kind with what you bear to instil

I’m one and a half page of an A4 gone and I’m still wasting words on consciousness. This is what it feels like to fight forces that you never chose, fighting constantly.

You will live, you will live

You will write, you will write

You will love, you will love

You will break, you will break

You will heal, you will heal

You will die again and again before you learn to live to die.

“Be offended by your zeal to live because thinking of your death will remind you of here always”

 

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2017.

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7 Comments Add yours

  1. yes, yes, yes. i am a merchandiser and part of the job is driving, at times stress rears it’s ugly head and music at that volume you mention so that it harmonizes with the passing scene out the windshield whether that of concrete or lush green. and, of course there are those times when the music, the mood, and the scenery come to together as one and i am in heaven albeit a brief, relaxing moment.
    great read.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. ipeniwrite says:

    I’m happy we both can totally relate. It’s sensational, that feeling. Thank you for leaving this here. I really do appreciate

    Like

  3. I read, this is what being a writer is, the doubts, the concern over wants, the value of solitude. In all, excellently well-done!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. And thank you for liking my Health Center poem. Written well before the election, I had no idea what might be coming to it.

    Like

  5. ipeniwrite says:

    Thank you for expressing this🌸

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Dom Cochran says:

    Your thoughts, prose, and poetry, contain a wisdom that few writers have. There’s an honesty, vulnerability, and raw courage in your writing that reminds me to stop censoring and thinking too much.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. ipeniwrite says:

    I’m happy these words reach you that way. Sending you encouragement. Thank you for reading Dom

    Like

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