Saturday, 7 October 2017


Behold, the voice of freedom speaking deep in your heart,
Listen to her, for her wisdom knows no bounds
Crying girl, wipe your tears;
Depressed child, get out of bed,
Broken woman, pull your beautiful self together
Devastated man, let the tears fall,
Heartbroken lover, let them go,
Disappointed student, study again,
Lonely girl, pick your phone, call someone;
Disillusioned teen, get a social media cleanse
Hollow junkie, crawl up to your care giver and ask for help
Abused wife, leave that hell hole
Lost Father, speak to God
Anguished parent, pray for that child
Bipolar child, take your meds
Shattered child, let your tormentors go,
Bereaved one, let your tears soak the soil where your loved one lies;
We are broken but deep inside is a solution
A sign of hope
That lone star in a dark, dark midnight sky
Glowing hard to be seen,
Can’t you see that your soul has not quit?
That shero in you, broken girl, is fighting for you.
Regard her with respect, obey her for she knows what you need.
Let her advice lead and heal you
She is the voice of God.

Hey awesome hoomans!

I was taking a walk home from class in the September sweltering heat, water bottle in hand and earphones plugged in my ears, with Lana del Rey, in her strangely intriguing voice, reminding me that a lust for life can keep me alive.

I haven’t written in a while.

There is a thought process in my mind telling me people think I am a freak. The same evil spirit is convinced that my writing is a dud, that it’s depressing and not worth it. And that I should shut down my blog. You know, set it on fire. Let it free float into the blogosphere’s horizon, where neither of your memories will be able to reach it,only mine, when the same demon crops up again to remind me of my false starts.
I listened to that dark spirit and for days, I stewed my insides in unshed tears. My mum called to encourage me and convince me to write…at least, she read my blog! May you live forever mum!

As I approached home, I accidentally opened my gallery and saw this:

I had been going through my collection of bizarre, hilarious and inspiring memes the previous night, trynna find something to write about and had stopped at that one.
It slowly began to hit me that I was stigmatizing myself and those who may be like me. I wasn’t helping at all. I was behaving like the ignoramus that think psychological issues are just but an excuse. For a while there, I had ceased to be brave and chosen the easy way: to hide and dump my cross instead of carrying it.

Maybe I need a mentor; some sort of cheering squad because writing about psychological issues is not a walk in the park. It’s more like a walk through the dense atmosphere of planet Venus when it is raining: you get acid burns andthe walk is pretty much wading in hot porridge. However, deep inside me is that little voice telling me what I have to do. It’s a female voice (obviously, there’d be something really creepy about having a male voice trapped in my gut) that surprisingly has all the answers to the questions the evil spirit was trying to force out:

You think anybody gives a flying hoot about that blog of yours?

What do you think people think when you write about psychiatric disorders?

Get up girl! You are not in a developed country where people sit and openly discuss mental health. When will you realize that?

When all my friends have gone to bed and family is 200 miles away, she is all I have. She says I should keep writing and guess what? She is actually right!

That little voice is God’s gift to all of us. We can all identify with that voice, like how they goes “Oooh look at that!” when a hot guy passes by, or “Don’t even try to overtake” when you’re in a hurry and there’s a dumbfounded slowpoke right in front of you and trynna pass them would have you flattened by a sixteen-wheeler. How about how they go “What you think you’re doing!” when you are sticking your fingers into your roommate’s peanut butter?

The voice is our protector and advisor. They negotiate for us when the soul is too beat and the mind is overwhelmed with the dirty, dirty hoomans of the world. They organize our activities and whisper little orisons while we are praying silently for everything to get better. Ironically, they are always right! They were tailor-made for everybody so that they can fathom our varying issues and provide solutions based on the resources we have when the people who care about us are way too far. They always help us make the positive choice and thus avoid self-defeating deeds like quitting writing or exercise or whatever we love to do.

The lil voice is a strong part of who you are, choose you by listening more to them and less of the evil spirit telling you you can't do stuff.

XXXX so glad I could do this:)