First of all, I hope you missed my irrelevant humour, drafting this, am comforted by the sound of rain in the background. The comfort of knowing am within this shell of comfort while chaos erupt outside totally blows my mind. But then again that is just a reflection of my internals… It is chaos in there. The need for gratification for my soul clashing with my unending procrastination of deeds that are meant to reward me is overwhelming. These memories are scramming to break free but it may take me a while to grasp all of them.


The raindrops…


Am I the only one who finds the patter of rain on my windows fascinating. It’s like multiple tiny soldiers are headed to a battle field and they just have no idea they will not be returning home. They land with thunderous blows but slide down that glass pane scrambling for a bit of grasp but finally fall to the ground with a thud. Splashing their imaginary blood across the muddy puddle. It is amazing, I watch the repetitive action over and over, cultivating a sense of joy as the tiny soldiers tumble ot their downfall after picking a battle with gravity. A battle they clearly lost. Sick. I do not know where this dark humour was cultivated from, but life has a way of transforming you, hardening your heart, or maybe it just shapes you differently from the expectations of the society. Not my point though, back to the rain drops. Once in that muddy puddle, they may flow down the stream or remain in an ugly murk in the middle of the road. Children may come and stump on the drops now collected into a puddle of fallen soldiers. For the child, it is a happy spot. But I know the pain that these tiny soldiers feel. Its not just a tumble from grace to shame, It is also multiple trumpling on your broken bones from uncaring strangers. I have been there, I know what those rain drops are feeling. but just like everyone else, I shrug and walk away from my window. It pretty much is not my damn business.


I turn back to my draft; welcome to my new normal


I was accused of vanishing into thin air for the past couple of months. Well, in reality, I was actually struggling about how to come back into all this. At times am swamped with so many emotions, I have no idea if what I put down even makes sense, but then again, am no quitter… and here we are despite it not being where we began at. You know I could have opted out and let my heart wander to new adventures, but writing has always tickled a fancy in me. It is how best I connect with the tangles of ideas and events in my mind. The raindrops are ceasing, the storm is almost over. My window pane is moist. I guess its a stamp reminding us of the soldiers that once were… The chill that comes with it reminds us of the sinister thoughts that come with this weather. We freeze, but rather than cluster for warmth, we are currently scared of being butchered because the society says its okay. Story for another day though. The rain drops are gone and now my mind no longer focuses on the calamities of my life, that chapter is closed, only meant to be told. Am a new believer. It is time to think positively in my draft.


So about my disappearance. Am a social being especially with people that I am well acquainted with. I have insulated my bubble and lined it in a way that everyone has their place and in some weird way my phone acts as a guard to inform me of their presence. So some notification tones turn my insides because I know who is on the other end. And of late my greatest obsession has been about restoring my blog and shaping my writing into a pile of words that feed souls. It’s almost 9pm, the notification comes in, I definitely know it’s my host and I pick up my phone hoping its news about my restored domain. That premonition of doom. An imaginary knife stabs my tummy and for some reason it knocks out all air from my canal. For a second there I had tears in my eyes. Because within I felt repressed, I needed to vent, to chant, to sing if I could. I simply needed to put my voice out there and address the state of my world, yet here was a new stumbling block. My domain had gone on recession

My Yogi, you have been a channel i draw strength from through this journey


First things first, I did what any rational woman would do, I hang up and called my favorite to vent. Not my initial intention though, but emotion over powered rationality. My Yogi picks up my calls and I spend my first few minutes pouring my anger out on her about how I can’t do this anymore, how am thinking of new means of building my brand, and how I had an option of leaving all I had accomplished and beginning afresh. Bitter pill, but I had to face facts. It was either I start afresh or start afresh. She made me face my options and pick the most reasonable. Of course she told me to sleep over it for a few days, but I have never known myself to be patient with my own decisions. I think most of the time I have it figured out.


I guess it was a season of full transformation though, from my depression posts to blossoming, This flower was finally ready to be added to a bouquet that would make some broken hearted soul a little more happy. My journey was pretty easy. See, my body is arranged in some clock dimension that flows against the currents of the normal mundane functioning. I am more active at night than during the day. My muse flows best when the rest twist within their sheets. Most of my posts actually go up at midnight. Bingo!!! That light bulb that lit my mind. Long story short, here we have it, the birth of my new baby, My midnight muse. I felt discouraged at first, because this meant rebuilding my brand from scratch but in reality I guess am peeling off my old skin and taking a new journey from all dimensions. Then again realization hit me, the greatest of journeys begin with these small steps, so I am going to make mine without caring about what lays ahead or what I have left behind. Am simply documenting the now and hoping to find more life and adventure along the way.

The raindrops are back, but with it came a new revelation. Just like a life cycle, the same way they came down, at some point they evaporate, cluster and form clouds before they shower us with blessings. guess when the raindrops hit you, you see the soldiers coming home from a victorious battle, they cluster in a puddle on the ground, content over how well their efforts have made the environment green. On a sunny day, when the wind blows not, the puddle settle and clearly we can see a reflection of how peaceful the sky is. And maybe that calm is just what we are headed for… The raindrops are falling.


Adios Thoughts of the Soil, Bienvenue My Midnight Muse….

10 replies
  1. Lucy Mutiria
    Lucy Mutiria says:

    Now I’ll never watch the rain the same way again… every time I watch rain drops on my window…. The poor little soldiers 😊 Great writing! ♥

    Reply
  2. Rosemary
    Rosemary says:

    Myself as well, I will never look at rain the same. It’s so beautiful how conversational and sensational this was.

    Reply
  3. Ratemo
    Ratemo says:

    From depression to blossoming indeed.Just like the potter with their clay,you have a way of moulding pictures from words that a lot of us won’t dare use as building blocks.You the best.

    Reply

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