[In]security

I feel like when I write my words don’t say enough
I’m afraid that if I go too deep my message will be out of touch,
Like, my mask has grown too thick, so much that
I don’t remember what my face looks like anymore.
It’s such that any more of this falsehood poetry
Is going to pull false hoods over me like dark hoodies
Strait jackets that keep the insanity inside but never let it out.
I silence my own self. my cries for help oust my cries for help;
Does that even make sense? I’m smothered incense, incensed
By the sensations of my fingertips behind the pen.
Some call it brilliant; art; beautiful and unique
But the proprieties of my piety to me feel like blasphemy
Because I’m afraid staying true to who I am has left me forgotten.
Why tell my story if no one listens? Or hears, but loses the message that was written?
I bleed lines across the streets for them to sleep in drains and puddles;
I bleed into hearts but my blood is muddled.
Plasma they can’t see on their Plasmas, the doors to their soul shut
To the reality of my life as it separates to blood and water;
Sprinkling on altars as offerings in hope of help in my suffering
But what meets me is congratulations and applause.
No pause to see the reason behind these lines
No concern for the times that produced them.
No cause to reflect or introspect; just a waste.
The strife as I play poltergiest to make these words come to life
Tossing ideas and swinging songs across their minds
It comes to bite me in the behind because all I wanted to say was I’m sorry.
I messed up, and God forgave me; thank God!
I love you but I’m scared to show it.
I miss you but don’t want you to know it; cause I know you’re busy.
You tore my heart out but I’ve learnt to survive.
I need more friends like you. I need friends.
I’ve been having a really difficult time. Please pray for me.
Life is beautiful. Take a moment to enjoy it.
I’m a broken soul behind a fake smile.
I sometimes think nobody really cares.
I actually just want to serve God with my life, and don’t care for material things.
I talk too much.
Maybe if I learnt to shut up and just say how I feel, things would be different.
Maybe if I just trust in Jesus instead of fighting so hard to be perfect, then I’d actually become it.
Maybe if I just said want I wanted to say, you wouldn’t want to listen.

Castaway: The Second Epistle

O dearest of mine,
I know we don’t see eye to eye, but in my defense it’s hard to spy
you when we’re oceans apart.
This faint heart beats hard watching the stars above the sea,
Riding this heart rate to Mars as the pressure of not having you
Around scars it with hope of a day where we’d be reunited.
But body and mind fight daily to climb the hills of this island.
Toiling through the anxiety I’ve found shelter and meal,
The appeal of survival as a means to the end of us;
Not that we’d end but in the end us will still be.
But this survival has been spelling the end.
E, everyday as the curves of the swirls grow more enticing,
The temptation of the island’s fruit reminding me of a sweetness
That I reminisce about;
N, the nagging at my heart strings every time the birds sing our song;
They flock together and I’m left to be without the right pair;
Just a sole survivor in my imaginations that salvation could come to us;
And the idea that Mrs. Right is still out there.
I shoo a pesky crab that tried to snap at my ankle.
D: the Day I decide to give up. I can’t say how far survival has gotten
But its hard to focus on what is hoped for when the realities of life demand my attention.
I can’t begin to mention how much I’ve fought to not call this island home;
I’ve heard that home is where your heart is, and I refuse to plant my flag
Anywhere within this island because it’s not where I want to be;
I’ve had tears, fear and hopelessness for company,
And they haven’t been the best friends but they’ve helped me feel comfy,
Growing accustomed to hard floors and wet feet.
I’d much rather wish to adorn this paper with the gems of your beauty
But it’s grown faint and I only see in the mirror dimly;
I only wish to speak the truth.
The truth is I’m alone; You’re out there as my home
and I’m here as the prodigal; longing to depart
With this parchment on the journey to your dorms.
That’s where home is to me.
The epitome of sanctity, encased within the body
Life breathed into and alas it became living.
Away from the spice of this isle
That extends for miles beyond my reach.
It’s sweetness leaves me bitter
As it quicker serves as anchor than propeller
And so with urgency I deploy this letter.
My prayer is it is delivered,
just as the first within this bottle as my messenger.
Signed, sealed, and administered.
As may this second find you and the first together.
I still love you.

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Real Talk: My Depression.

You know, it’s been ages since I’ve last written one of these. It’s like visiting an old friend; the joys and memories of times gone by, but a grim, real undertone that you know that you won’t see them for a while after you leave. Hopefully, that reality is in fact an illusion, but knowing myself, it probably isn’t. I’ll still look forward to seeing this side of my blog again, and more frequently too 🙂

I’ve come here to talk about a little thing called depression.  The truth is that there are many people out there who suffer from it, but either don’t know or refuse to admit it. Some recognize it, but instead of seeking the help they need to overcome it, try to tough it out and end up only hurting themselves more. Most people say things along the lines of “that’ll never happen to me.” The truth is, life happens. Things come our way and they might just deal a number on you, and there’s nothing that can change about that, except how you choose to react to it.

I’m writing this because life has happened to me, with many things and pressures welling up around me. I chose to ‘tough it out’ as well, being hopelessly optimistic and not taking the time to accept, grieve and move forward. Eventually, I became a casualty to depression. I’ve always thought of myself of being a strong person, but I guess even strong people can grow weak after enduring for so long.

Before I continue, I do believe it is prudent of me to issue a few disclaimers. This is not an invitation to a pity party. I do appreciate those who may as a result of this might be concerned, but please; just keep me in your prayers if you wish to do something, instead of rushing over to my aid. I do not wish to glorify this situation and give it any more attention than it needs to be given, but rather glorify Christ, who is my strength in my time of weakness. If you ask me if I’m okay, I will say no. If you ask me why, I will most likely ignore you.

Nevertheless, I do wish to share a few things with you; namely what it feels like for me, and how it affects me. If I had to describe it, I’d say it’s like a little shadow man that stands beside you all the time. If you distract yourself you can’t see him, but deep down you know he’s there. You give him the time of day however, and he’s all you can think about. He has a voice, and it’s not easy to ignore. When people compliment you, he convinces you that they’re lying. When bad things happen, he says it’s all your fault. He talks to the voices in your head, and they tell you that you’re worthless. They say you’ll never amount to anything. They say you are the reason for the troubles that your friends face, because you couldn’t do anything to help them. He encourages you to do bad things to make yourself feel better, but if you listen, you just feel guilty. He laughs at you. He drains you of your passions, and demotivates you from doing anything. Of course, he then ridicules you because you did nothing. He makes up reasons why people don’t talk to you at certain times. He says they don’t like you. He says that they don’t care about you, and are just trying to be nice to save face. He says you won’t survive.

You never really see him for who he is, until something serious happens. For me, it took a meeting with my manager asking why it is I’m behind in my projects for everything to surface. I was overcome with emotion, just trying to explain myself when tears started flowing. The meeting went on for about 20 minutes after that, but my tears never stopped. It wasn’t even like I was pouring my heart out or anything; they just couldn’t stop.

If it’s anything I learnt within this experience, was that I couldn’t go through this alone. I’m not out of the woods yet, but I thank God for the people who God has placed in my life who have been a support for me throughout this experience. People like Darnell, who allowed me to vent even when he was tired, and encouraged me to seek help. Like Azriel, who made his busy self available to me when I needed, and offered me accountability during my process. Like Jemima, who is such a joyous soul that you could never be sad around. Like Ruth, who knows me so well and checks up on me when something seems off. Like Monique, who’s friendship has been a blessing. Like the Jeremiah Fire squad, who never give up on me and gave me an outlet to express myself, and a drive to grow and become so much more than I already am.

The purpose of this was to raise awareness about the realness of depression. It is a real disease. There is no shame in admitting it, and definitely no shame in getting help. My hope is that you find someone to talk to. That you don’t keep it in. That little shadow man is nothing short of a monster, and not someone you should take lightly. My hope is that you spread the word. That you be a friend to someone in need. That you try your best to be kind to everyone, because you don’t know what they go through. That in the moments when you are your weakest and there’s nobody around, that the very presence of God will overtake you, and that the Holy Spirit will be your comfort and your guide.

Talk to somebody. Be somebody to talk to.

Zecks.

 

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Photo Credit to xm0nkeyx.

Castaway: The First Epistle

O dearest of mine,
My eyes incline across shore lines each and every day.

My heart is crushed and swept away by waves of time

Sand in hour glass; hours dipped into days that pass

Without a hint of where you’ve been.

I miss you.

These words stain like residue on my ragged clothes;

They impose insults like tissues on gashes; They fail to heal these wounds I feel.

My mind reels with thoughts of survival, thoughts of you my catch, baited by the hope that I might see you again;

For you see, I’ve fallen for you hook line and sinker.

The hook to the lines of this song being that I sink her;

This boat we both came on; but I refrain from singing those lines again.

This island could’ve been paradise; but I fear it’s more like hell without you.

You only feel stranded when what matters most is gone from you and so I call this island deserted.

Yet I have no choice but to call this place home

Because its shore is my only constant;
I’m not sure to see you again and so my home cooked
meals are regret and resentment.
It was all smooth sailing until we hit the rock;
The storms were raging and in titanic climax,
it all fell apart.

Dashed to pieces like the ribbon at the end of the race:

Our time together finished. First came love,
Then came disaster;
Third the foundation broke apart, and tumbling after came the

Rafters.
I wish I could’ve said to you that I knew what I was doing;
That I was the captain and assured you the safety from
The thunder;

But I blundered. My misguided arrogance was the ignorance that tore us asunder;
I was oblivious to the nautical stimulus
That drove us overboard. By the time I recognized what
had happened, it was gone.
My joy, my peace; my everything.

All that’s left is the glistening of these here bottles
and fumbling of my fingers on the parchment,
Trying my best to not mess this up too.
I still can’t believe I’ve lost you;
I don’t know where you are; A prisoner to the sea,
it’s unknown to me; in the garrison of some foreign
mission; a slave to the Bermuda triangle; all bad angles
if you look at it.

All I know is what you meant to me.
You were my serenity in a trying time;
A partner in crime set up by the divine;
Navigating me towards destinies that meant the best for me: You were genuinely concerned for me.
Your company was the Vitamin C for my scurvy,
The Gravol for my journey, the way for me

To rest easy. The safe place for me to speak freely,

To arrest the daily façade of niceties to just have
a place of honesty and community.
My prayer partner; my life partner. My trophy.
I didn’t win any competition though; I was just so lucky

To have you.

I know this in itself is folly, but in light of the

Current affairs that surround this ocean,
My prayer is that this gets to you.

A response is even more an absurdity but as long
As I believe you are out there,
I must believe.

I’ll trust you. So trust me.
Signed, sealed, and administered.
In this vessel, I pray it be delivered.

I love you.

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Contemplations in the dark.

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What is this? What is this that persists
To tease tears out my eyelids like A group
Of kids impoverished round about a dried up faucet;
Why is it that every facet of my life leaks?
Why are there rivers of crying water that cannot be shut up
Cause it was pressed down, shaken together and now running over
to the hundred folds in my abdomen;
In critique of my acumen to press toward high marks
But when He calls I fall short and graze my knees…
I’m crying please give me a break!
Put a stop to the gushing drops of the ball,
Hands slippery trying to stop the discharge of melancholy
Fully aware of the folly yet confused as to the mystery
As to how did I get so far.
Stuck depths below par in a hole scarred by failed attempts
To time and time again reach the bar
Sunken in misery; awakened to the epiphany
That I have reached the epitome of depression.
I’m typically hard on my self;
And so I’m hard pressed for answers;
you could say I’m wine pressed;
Cause all I’ve ever wanted was what was best for those around me;
Hands full in service with no strength left for the diamond of my psyche;
Crushed in the futility and sinking in an ocean of uncertainty.
I don’t know what is wrong with me.
Asking if I’m ok doesn’t help me because I know that I’m not,
But I don’t know why.
Can’t miss the water cause I’m welling up with legitimate smears:
I’m brushing my tears back.
Hands full, Mind tired and no rest in sight.
Rolling in my bed till 4:35 with insomnia as company
Hoping like the sun I will rise.
One Day I will, for I know joy comes in the morning.
but for now I’ll remain in mourning.

Real Talk: Health for the body; Health to the Soul

 

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So the truth of the matter is that I’ve been getting fat. Christmas was a little too kind to me and i fell for it’s charms… and it was glorious. It took the ‘loving hints’ from my girlfriend and an incident when I was going to buy a shirt and saw the magnificence of my belly in the dressing room to push me over the edge. Enough was enough; it was time to do something about it.

So I did what any person aspiring to get slim would do: I saddled up myself and headed on over to the gym. I started eating healthier too, and surely enough, that lil’ me protruding from my stomach is starting to go away. This week just completed would’ve been  two weeks since I’ve started, and I must admit, it feels pretty good! There were some interesting things I noted along the way though:

 

  • Eating Healthy nowadays is just so expensive
  • Even though you’re working out and it often feels good then, it’s not uncommon to feel like crap a day or two after
  • A proper diet is essential and not just trying hard
  • It gets easier.
  • Having people to support you and be accountable to makes it a lot easier to keep going.

A lot of people want to get smaller or in shape, but don’t really have the commitment to actually work it through. Some might start well and good, but fall away because they just couldn’t form the proper habits. And even after I lose that belly of mine, I know that I have to keep at it in order to maintain my figure and health. It wasn’t long before I realized that a lot of what it takes to remain physically healthy applies to your spiritual health as well.

For starters, a lot of Christians desire more of God and want to deepen their spiritual walk with Him, but aren’t prepared to take the steps necessary to get there. They might start off well and good, but fall away to their normal routines and skip out on devotions. The temptation to cheat on their spiritual diets are real, and they might take a “cheat day” and indulge in things that they know they shouldn’t. And yes, spiritual health is the most expensive of all; Jesus said that if any man wants to be His disciple, he must deny himself, pick up his cross and follow Him. That definitely is more expensive than a protein shake or two.

Friends definitely make it easier though. We were never intended to live this life on our own, as Christ called us collectively to be His bride; and by banding together in unity, we have a much greater defense against whatever comes our way. It will take discipline, patience and consistency, but with the right ingredients and the help of the Holy Spirit, we can achieve that Body of Christ that He desires.

Train on Saints!

 

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photocredit to emillemily

A little on Love

Submission Journey

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“Love endures with patience and serenity, love is kind and thoughtful, and is not jealous or envious; love does not brag and is not proud or arrogant.It is not rude; it is not self-seeking, it is not provoked [nor overly sensitive and easily angered]; it does not take into account a wrong endured.It does not rejoice at injustice, but rejoices with the truth [when right and truth prevail].Love bears all things [regardless of what comes], believes all things [looking for the best in each one], hopes all things [remaining steadfast during difficult times], endures all things [without weakening].

Love never fails [it never fades nor ends]”

– 1 Corinthians 13:4-8 (AMP)

Although she’s talked about this excerpt before, I thought I’d like to take a turn at it myself. Every now and then, I like to turn back to these well…

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Fall in a Postcard

“If they could only see Him for themselves…
If they could only feel His presence, His embrace…
Then they would know He’s real.”

Come Awake

Fall in Chicago is beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it. Nathan makes fun of me for all my gasping during our car rides through town. But I just can’t help myself… Vibrant oranges, magentas and yellows burst through the dark branches and I let out an overly drawn out, “Wowie” as I grab his arm in pure amazement. He simply looks over at me and chuckles, amused by my childlike wonderment.

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