The Secret Garden

I have always been a person who, no matter what, never lost my hope, faith, or belief in the world. I always believed that humans are inherently good ; that they will always somehow choose the right thing to do. It may take a long time, but they will see their own greed and fallacies that are pushing us into darker and darker times. Every time someone would question my faith or challenge my hope, I would still hold onto the belief that no, humanity hasn't died yet, that people can see beyond their divisions and beyond the categories they've put themselves in. Yet each time, I would be proven wrong. The people who doubted would say, "I told you so". Even then, even in those darkest moments, I would believe.  But lately that faith has shaken up. Each time an individual destroys another human for something so abstract, something inside of me dies. The love and faith inside of me feel as if they're being buried under a mountain of hopelessness. I try to find ways to...

 I have always wondered how the universe, and particularly nature on this planet thrives. It sits still and silent but keeps on growing no matter the circumstances. Every year the trees lose their leaves, the flowers wilt, and the colours lose their vibrance. Yet, they never seem to be in a hurry to reform or rebuild themselves. Instead, they let nature take its course and patiently await the arrival of spring. I wonder, however, that year after year they are reborn from their own ashes like a phoenix, yet they never tire of it.  This is where my dilemma comes in. I think of myself as a phoenix, or even a snake at times: always rising from the ashes of my own ruin, or shedding the older versions of myself to make way for a newer and a better version each time. But some days the task of self-improvement feels tedious, repetitive, and even a never-ending one. Some days you just feel devoid of any will to pick yourself back up, to emerge out of the cocoon you've wrapped yourself ...

 You don't realise that you are still bleeding from past wounds till something tries to hold that part of you again. You forget about the wound until you realise it never really healed completely. I have been reminded of many wounds I considered healed over the years. But one day or the other, something would strike that place again, only for me to learn how to care for it properly; instead of trying to lock it away somewhere far from the reach of my mind.  I, for one, dreaded the haunting task of reviving my ghosts, fearing their chokehold on me. I was repelled by the idea of reliving the past in fear that I would lose myself in there, I would never come out of those woods alive. I feared the pain that reached the very fibre of my being with every breath I took in the graveyard of my heart.  The fear washed away with the realisation that pain is an inevitable part of our lives, it is there to make us feel alive. Pain shows us the parts that still need our love and care f...

 Here I am, standing on the brink of womanhood, only now realising why the little girl inside of me still bleeds of old wounds. The world has called her names, told her she wasn't good enough and failed to protect her from the thousand emotional deaths she has died all her life. I never realised it until the last time I called her stupid, for making mistakes, for doing the best she knew how to, and for the pain she has suffered at the hands of others.  Everyone had always protected and sheltered her from the probable physical dangers of this world, but never gave her the warmth and love she always craved. So it makes sense why she would find that love in the most unlikely, violent, and dangerous places. It was Lauren Eden who said, "When you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives" . I find that statement to be especially true for the young girl who fell for the wrong person and the wrong love her entire life; because she never knew what love f...

 It has been so long since I wrote anything, let alone this blog. This year has been full of ups and downs. The ups were euphoric while the downs were hellish, and sitting between this chaos was my inner voice. She kept trying to make me understand the meaning of it all, the purpose of it all, the answer to it all; if only I had the guts to listen to her. I spent months and months trying to control everything in my life, my environment, my thoughts, my feelings, only to realize that there is nothing in my control, not even my mind. The only thing I can control is my actions and my reactions to the world around me. I cannot change or control the world around me. I can only control how I perceive and how I respond to it. The only control is through surrendering to the universe around you. Let your thoughts run wild, let yourself feel life to the fullest. Let the pain inside your heart, let the wounds overwhelm you. Let yourself live .  Here I am, sitting on a lonely December nig...

 Life is hard as an adult, there are always a million things to worry about all the time. But, it is much harder when you've lived your whole childhood in survival mode. Even as a child, I had to constantly worry about or repress certain things, always scared of making mistakes due to the consequences that followed. There was never room for learning, only punishments. Punishments for being human, for feeling emotions, for making honest mistakes because you're a fucking 10-year-old kid who is learning how to be in the world. Having a bad father doesn't help, and having people try to make you feel guilty for disliking someone that has fucked up your mind your whole life makes it worse.  So as an adult, I have a hard time regulating my own emotions because I was always taught that having feelings like anger and sadness aren't okay, although my dad can feel all the negative things he wants. However, when it comes to me, feeling anger, is a terrible thing even though he'...