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Ann

She cried again last night. As usual I had nothing to say but pat her to sleep. Almost two and a half years of continued weeping at night. Shouldering the burden of soothing a 7-year-old, what wisdom does a 10-year-old have to bring it to a stop. Lying next to me, sharing a single bed “Akka, where is mommy?”, the same question asked repeatedly, drowned only by the whir of the fan keeping us cool on  sweltering summer nights.   Looking at her this morning, you would never know the existence of her nightly griefs. Grandma held her hand whilst we both waited for our 6 a.m. school bus. Her short curly hair, dark blue primary pinafore, white shoes, slouching under the weight of her school bag pregnant with heavy textbooks, she looks so ordinary. Or maybe not, we both were unusually skinny and scrawny. Something we have constantly been made fun of at school; a few more years later down the line when we both approached puberty the bullying is only made worse for being flat chested. God
Recent posts

Convenience

A genocide of flora and fauna. A Whale drifted ashore with its bowel pregnant with your single use plastics. NO. Not gory enough. Desensitised. It all seems distanced and far off. It's happening to them not to me. Not me. Not my family. Not my friends. The fine dust that chokes the airway of my child. The microplastic beads that stealthily makes their way into my bowels. The prickly heat stinging my once weatherproof melanin skin. The pesticides slowly poisoning you and me through the innocent consumption of our five a day. It all began with just a desire for a little bit more convenience. Our demand for convenience fills the pockets of greedy irresponsible capitalist. Hah! Always looking for the obvious culprit to take the blame. It's you. It's my family. It's my friends. It's us. We're all to blame. Our bottles of shampoo, our 9p shopping bags, our fast fashion. The binge. The great 'Renaissance' of Consumerism. A genocide of f

Reconcile.

Fable of rebels, Raising hell, Their land, Your Land, Awestruck by bags of bucks, Deep in your pockets they flux, Fables of the feeble, Fighting your people, Their people, The pride of blood and pedigree, The dead hand of governance, We live in volatile times, Prodigal sons of earth, Will we reconcile? Walk the extra mile, Make it worthwhile, A mother pleads, Let the future be, A utopia flourished, Nourished by our feats, Humane deeds running our streets. GrymmRipper :]

Unfinished business

The nagging guilt of unfinished business Procrastination The need to do and not do The lists Reminders "Remind me if I forget" I forget And you forget. Forgotten Remembered  But then, laziness. -GrymmRipper-

TimeItch SpokenTrip

There is no love in this jungle. Desensitized to the violence. We use and abuse the struggle of our fellow men, we let them crumble. With no respect for the sanctity of their dignity. Perversions adopted in the name of entertainment. Fake compassion a fashion statement. Contentment with prayer, Instagram captions but no genuine action. Intentions will stay as intentions. Words are words and they betray. Action is Louder. Action is Power. GrymmRipper :]

To Change or To Change.

Life changes you.  ‘Change’ the one constant throughout the perpetuation of time. The influence of the people you meet and the experience you undergo are like micro surgeries that restructure bits and parts of you. Either you feel more corrupted with age or more grounded with your accumulation of wisdom. One thing for sure age does not and never will reflect wisdom. It’s always easier being the person from the outside looking in. However, when you are the protagonist of the situation at hand, then the rules of the game changes. The world did not come into being along with an instruction manual. We long constructed our pillars of morals through trials and errors from generation to generation. Thesis and antithesis like that of Hegel’s, as the pendulum swings humanity makes their progression. Self-evaluation and reflection is an essential ritual for every conscience bearing human being. To question ourselves is just as important as questioning everything else around us