The ground was never solid
No shoulder to lean on or hand
to guide or help us understand
Just run to escape the quick sand
Such is the life of man
I'm tired of running
Through no man's land
Wading through a pile of mud
Dodging mosquitos and poison ivy
The rashes and bites make me bleed
Yet I believe someday that flowers will bud
By our blood
Then out of the crud the earth will be blessed
By the remnant seed all who confessed
That our sacrifice was not in vain
And those who heard them took heed
And forsook their lust and violence and greed
Then every man will live by the fruit of his deeds

All the rage, sadness, numbness, and miserable feelings don't stop. They never stop. Through my whole essence, it will never be cast away. Forever leaking from my bones. Grief. Sorrow. Broken. Never restoring, Incessant. In my soul.
I will endlessly be Fragmented...

I still remember you, the fragment of you in my mind. Still laughing, still loving me. Our hearts still beating at the same pace. I have done wrong upon you. But please, remember my promise, my unconditional love. Still, boundless. My love.

I don't  care for the opinions of others,
I dress well but in attires I feel comfortable,
I eat when I want to,
I sleep when I want to.
I still coach a few students to keep me busy,
I love the feel of water,
So take my time in the shower.
I am not into meat,
I love fruits and nuts,
I must have an ice cold glass of coconut water everyday.
I keep in touch with my children, my sister, nieces, nephews and friends,
On the phone or WhatsApp,
My son and daughter ring me everyday sharing anecdotes and news of mundane things in our life.
Living alone is an advantage,
Nobody to nag you what to do.
18/11/2024

its over
i know you love me
but this is broken
and strained
the distance too great

so its over
my objections held taught in my mouth
the whole world tipping over flipping south
our voices strained
the distance closed

its over
its over
its over

I never think of life
As a wet on dry watercolor painting
Because its more similar
To wet on wet
You put a dash of color
Joy
Emotion
And it spreads
Like a virus
But a good one
Life isnt realism.
Life is abstract.
So treat it like that.
Imperfect
But in the end?
Beautiful.