Things They Didn't Tell Me

Hello readers! Hope you have a good weekend..

Glad it’s over. New Year. Not complaining. Just saying. Sometimes the start of the year makes you over think. A lot more introspective than any other days in the year. All the people want to have a fresh start like new look, new girlfriend, new job, new life. The reasons why we write those tricky little bastards called resolutions, right? You see I have grown a little. I’ve changed. There’s a side of me that whenever this season comes, a change in year, I refused to be drawn in to the fiasco that always, always happens this time around. If nothing is coming, then why bother? Just keep on going. There's always a pause, a moment when you realized that stagnancy of life is not bad at all. And I like that I learnt how to play around things now.

How do we get through the things that we can't get through? How can we make sense of the unfathomable? Can't. Just have to keep going, do what we can. Strip it all back. The most important things in life aren't things. We are wiser than we know.

Dreams, like warts and mole, they grow back. At the precise moment of dreadful failures, the human spirit inside us instantly begins to plot its own survival. And a heart that is broken again and again, is stronger that we thought. It can swallow a big pride without choking, strike old wounds without being hurtful and defensive. Although I still don't understand the magnitude of life, who says we have to?

Saying yes to life makes it open up like an oyster.

My mother appeared at Social Security for the annual confirmation. It is the system’s way to check if the pensioner is still alive. She does this so they will continue her check. My father has pension too. But he died elsewhere, with a different family, years after their marriage broke up. I believe I have four or five younger half-siblings. I also learned that it's the other woman who picks up my father’s annuity.

I felt my mother has few misgivings whether to fight for it or not. Half of me can’t take it. It belongs to mother and she could use the money for her maintenance. And I feel for her. I punched my self-consciousness if it’s right to convince her to claim what’s rightfully hers. It took my whole life to be in a place where I believe I can make a difference. But my other side tells the other family needs it more. My father died a poor man. I strongly believe that we live more comfortably than them.



There’s a deep essence of something I don’t know. I'm just so, so sorry down here. I guess a sister is only as happy as its unhappiest half-sister or brother.

So while I wait for God to tell me what to do, I leave you loads of love, understanding and peace. Supersized, and with refills.