FeyVored

A short simple farewell message to the year 2010. This year has been very eventful for me. In it, I have witnessed a steep learning curve and an even steeper growth curve (well, maybe not physically!), It's a year where I started a race which I am still running strongly, a year when I started exceeding limits and breaking boundaries- all for a good cause. It's a year where I met some amazing people and formed stronger relationships with those that had already been in my life. It's a year where I overcame fears and witnessed the power of faith, A year where I influenced more lives positively- even unintentionally at times. It's been a year of good fun, unleashing the youth that I had locked in in my attempt to appear mature. It's a year where many wishes came true and one where I truly realised that if you work towards the 'impossible', you will get it. It has been a year filled with love, hope and faith. Most of all, it's been a year of buildi

Today is Thursday. I'm dreading the night mainly because of the aftermath- a very messy kitchen, quite smelly corridors and grumpy cleaners. My first semester of Uni, I must say, wasn't at all what I had anticipated. I remember coaching myself mentally, preparing for the hard times to come, having an escape plan in case of a metaphoric fire and a Plan B if that didn’t work. Anyway, as it happened, my plan B wasn't well premeditated, lacking enough detail to guide me through smoky situations. All it had inscribed on it was “RUN”. Thursday nights are Mercy Nights- when students get free entry into an over-hyped nightclub. As that isn’t my cup of tea, I tend to stay indoors, watching a movie or trying to catch up with work- the latter being more frequent. The reason I dread these nights is because my flatmates have a pre-party, a chaotic one, where over 10 people squeeze into our kitchen, blast the music through the roof and scream at the top of their lungs in chants for Ke

I had written this poem a while ago, and tucked it away. A few weeks later, I heard the song ‘Purple’ by Donnie McClurkin and I was amazed by their coherence. Do listen to the song and enjoy. The colour of a heart slowly cut off from its oxygen source of a red flame dying, turning blue That Colour Purple,  when I'm cut off from You Shades of complacency as vibrance seeps away Purple are my scars, from wounds of conformity Squeezed in a box that was too little for me  the colour of my skin so deprived, From the breezy breath of life Sealed in that little box that caves me in ~o~  I am by the lake in the cold winter morn, treading softly on leaves so thirsty They had been battered by dreary November, And seemed a representation of my person I have found it so hard to let go To let God take control Purple were the gloves I wore that day   When You wiped away tears with my hands,   fears crushed in Your hands And then, You whispered gently with the breeze That You were right beside

Simulated Perfection. A little boy kicked his red mud-stained ball towards me. A little too high the kick was, as the ball bounced off my right knee, leaving a stain that was conspicuous. He ran up to me giggling, a very boisterous one, like he had no clue what he had done. He pointed to the ball, still inattentive to the frown that had formed on my face, which had on it clear signs of tiredness. Before he could say anything, I picked him up and spun him around, his little feet hanging high, drawing wide circles in space. "Mummy, Mummy!" The little boy's older sister ran out of the house to give me a big hug. I dropped him on the ground and squeezed them both tight in a warm embrace. I had missed them and it was obvious that they had eagerly awaited my arrival. Joseph, my 4 year old boy, gave me a slightly wet kiss on my cheek and Deborah, a very smart 7 year old, wasn't slow in noticing the stain on my knee. I explained to her that it was her brother's fault a

Generation Facebook. That's what it means. Not "Generation FeyVored", if that crossed your mind. And if it didn't, sorry, read on. Please. In recent times, as I log in to my facebook account, my mind tends to conjur up images of a large hall. And as I press the Enter key to complete the tedious (as I have such a long username) process of logging in, subconsciously and habitually, I prepare myself as I enter into this large beaming hall to make my presence known. Characterised mainly by "friends" who seem to be clawing over one another to get their points across, this hall- like a very large and noisy classroom, noticeably has various types of students: The first category my mind picks up are the 'Noisemakers'. These are the movers and the shakers of my homepage-almost constantly having something to say or share. A few of them use exclamation marks excessively to make a point- "Hi!!!!!!" They regularly feed my otherwise starving '

For reasons unknown to me, I was deeply inspired to write this note on my way to school this morning. I hope this note is relevant to someone. Stay blessed . I dread to start this letter with “Dear” because I fear that she might read it and become suspicious and spiteful of what is now non-existent. And no, I wouldn’t want that, for I am a changed person and whatever I do now, I do it in love. I would like to ask you a few questions though, well; I would like to know if when you see her your eyes light up like a kid’s in a candy store? Do you find yourself smiling just at the mention of her name? And do you wish you could hold her in your arms and make those precious moments last forever? Is she your half’s other, close to you like no other? I’m not writing to make you feel insecure about your new relationship. I don’t want you to feel that you are being watched closely, I haven’t gone crazy and I am fine; there’s been no mental-breakdown. I just want to remind you that you once s

Dawn was drawing close. The gentle breeze came as a consolation, symphatising with the wild for bearing with the downpour that befell the night. This time, the predator walked along an unusual path, the rays of sun bouncing off the shy green of wet leaves providing a source of illumination to its glowing eyes. It had spotted prey and now it was calculating the next move... I hadn't seen her in ages. I watched intently as she made her way towards me, her hips swinging graciously from side-to-side, her movement emphasized by the frills on her flowery gown, accentuating her hourglass figure. It's been 10 years since I last saw her and it seemed every part of her body, visible to my eyes, had been renovated in heaven time and time again. She had become much more attractive, she was beautiful. The predator studied its prey. Well-hidden by the shadows cast by the tall fruitless trees, it was being careful. Avoiding every broken branch, it took slow gentle steps towards its prey,