An Inspiring Article, Originally Posted Here
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It's a plain spreadsheet with a simple title: "I have a place to offer."
What follows is simply inspiring.
There are names, thousands of names of people in the Boston area with standing offers to help those displaced by the…
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This morning I hadn’t much sleep, but unlike most this was with good reason. My grandma wasn’t feeling well and I got up to test her sugar and pressure a couple times. She took her pills. I worry about her. I followed her to the washroom least she falls and hit herself again. She insisted on going with my father to the city, ordering my mother and I not to tell him anything. I usually do tell him, but I suspect if I did today she’d end up getting mad at me and stressing her tired heart even more. I love my grandma dearly.
I’m always told that I’m her favourite, and I always smile because I could see that I was. For the most part of my eighteen years I slept by her side and as each year sprints away I wonder how much longer do we have with her. Well, her and my granda. I wouldn’t handle it well at all should something happen to them, and I hate to say this to sound biased, especially her. That woman is the most hard working person, next to my dad, who I had the honor to know, I would cry if I were to recount what the both of them have been through. My parents will be around for a while yet but I hope to God that I get to squeeze as much time with them.
I set my phone to wake her up a 2:30 AM. I got up again at five, opened my favourite window and cloud gazed. Mornings are for … I forgot this already, let me try … Mornings are for positive thoughts and good energy. Think about it; they aren’t there just to look pretty (if the weather feels fine), it has a purpose and if you look hard enough and far enough you’ll see it.
A sky of a brighter day.
© Devina S.
It was almost 6:30 PM, the heavens were bursting at the seams. A river had rained over my head. The thunder crashed some where in the dark blue velvet of the Caribbean sky in short bursts like a child throwing a tantrum. The lightening flashed a chastising glance at the thunder’s unruly rampage, zig zagging across the sky like a thousand snaking veins, pulsing with lethal energy.
And I sit here typing and thinking of how ridiculous Miley Cyrus’ hair is. Really. I will talk no more on that subject because I have more important things to worry over, like how many licks does it take to get to the centre of a lollypop. The people at Cambridge actually found out (as I’ve heard on twitter) but I can’t remember how much. I always end up chewing off the thing before I even get close to the centre. I will never know. NeVeR!
The title of the post might have told you that I’ll go crazy and you’re waiting to to see how I’ll get myself shipped of to the loony bin. That was my intent but sanity reclaimed the reins. Bummer, I know.
What’s this darkness I feel inside?
It tries its damnedest to overwhelm me
I feel my bruised resolve slipping
Like ketchup sliding out of a bottle
Reluctantly first, then easily gave way.
What’s this cloud I just can barely see above my head?
My trembling fingers moved to my eyes as if I could wish it away
Its foreboding presence stifles me as I lay there…
Image via community321.com
There are times in our lives when despair over powers positive outlook and it feels as if we’ve plunged head first into its dark frigid waters. I am sinking beneath its murky depths and carried away by its ruthless current. My lungs are screaming from the lack of hope. I slowly turn to the darkness and pull the shadows like a cloak closer around me, finding a dark sort of comfort, and let stars fall from my eyes.
My salty tears surround me like a mist of my disappointment, of me not being strong enough, clever enough and focused enough to be the best that can be and make the ones I love proud of me. To ease their pains and sorrows. Sinking deeper down willingly in the dark abyss of despair, my burning eyes snatch glimpses of the weak dreamy glow of the light from the restless surface.
My mind latched onto it as if a life preserver. I realize, that even in the merciless darkness, light will always be present, no matter what. I reach, my fingers groping for the light … the cloak pulls me deeper yet, but I begin to resist. I must, but can I do it? How do I fight this overwhelming sense of despair? Oh! But I must. I can. And with everything I’ve got, I shall!
Can’t lose hope, lose faith in myself. Not yet, not ever. Despite those struggling thoughts, I’m still plagued with doubt, but that’s the wicked darkness speaking, its raspy voice whispering in my ear. I mustn’t let it get to me. So the battle begins.
I will be victorious.
I know this is rather depressing, but it is what it is. I write this and share it with you because it’s much easier than saying it out loud to someone I know for I don’t want to burden them with the knowledge of the conflicting emotions waging war within me, and make things worse. Blogging has become an outlet for releasing the words jumbled up in my head and I am very grateful to you guys for coming by and sharing your thoughts with me 
Devina.
It has been a while since I’ve written a WoTD post, but I’m going to try to keep at it from now on. The first I think I’ve heard of the word ‘chimera’ was in a Harry Potter book, many of us know it as a mythical creature but I wasn’t aware of its second meaning.
Chimera
Source: Compact Oxford Dictionary & Thesaurus
Page. 149
Cheers
The dawn of a new day
I know that sunrises have become cliche but that fact doesn’t erode the message they hold. We all know life isn’t a walk in the park, all candy and dandy. Sometimes it’s like running through dark, ugly, rough narrow allies that never seem to end, sucking whatever hope we have, but despite our hardships and tears the world doesn’t stop spinning. The darkness that we feel gathering up inside is chased away by the bright reassuring morning light of the golden sun, the world is bathed in rays of hope. After darkness always comes light.
To me, sunrises are daily reminders that no matter how bad things might be, morning always comes and along with the dawn of a new day comes new possibilities, new ways to overcome our problems. Renewed hope that things will get better so don’t throw in the towel get back up and when life throws another curve ball, you give your best shot and hit with all you’ve got, take charge. It’s okay to hope, because when you do, anything is possible. Hope itself is very powerful, with it we can work to achieve anything we want.
I didn’t have a good vantage point when I took this picture that morning, but a sunrise is a sunrise no matter from what angle you look at it, no? I do hope you all have a good week ahead
Cheers!
Image via brainz.org
Hope is …
Sometimes not worth it
It’s a risk
When you get your hopes up high
There’s a chance that in a moment
It gets crushed and as your heart begins
To crack, you see through your tears that
precious time was wasted
Hoping for … nothing at all …
- Devina
I recently found this scribbled next to a flower with thorns drawn in black ink behind my Bio book when I was jotting down a friend’s number. I cannot, for the life of me, remember what had provoked me to write such a thing. Yes, I can be a pessimist sometimes but I don’t think it’s fair to attack hope like I did that day – whenever that was. I mean I believe we all run on hope, we all look forward to something, and we ‘hope’ it turns out all right, don’t we?
But then again, life ain’t all sweetness but I guess when things do get rough one of the first things we lose is … hope. Okay, there I go again, just stop! (Oh, I was talking to myself there, sorry) What’s important is grabbing and keeping a death grip on whatever hope we’ve got left because that’s what get’s us through these phases in our lives, isn’t it? I don’t mean to spread my gloomy mood that day to anyone but I felt like sharing those few forgotten lines with you anyways
I do hope you, whoever and wherever you are, have a great day or night!
~Peace~
This is the dark time, my love,
All round the land brown beetles crawl about.
The shining sun is hidden in the sky.
Red flowers bend their heads in awful sorrow.
This is the dark time, my love,
It is the season of oppression, dark metal, and tears.
It is the festival of guns, the carnival of misery.
Everywhere the faces of men are strained and anxious.
Who comes walking in the dark night time?
Whose boot of steel tramps down the slender grass?
It is the man of death, my love, the strange invader
Watching you sleep and aiming at your dreams.
~~~
This was one of the twenty poems that I had to analyze for my CSEC (Caribbean Secondary Education Certificate) examinations I wrote this year. It’s also one of my favourites. In this poem Mr.Carter, a Guyanese, describes the arrival of the British troops in what used to be British Guiana at the time of independence. Our narrator is engaged in conversation with his lover, referring to the invading soldiers -the’ brown beetles’ – and the effect of their presence on the country. He sees the soldiers bringing death with them and destroying the dreams of innocent people.
(Note: After independence, British Guiana became Guyana, a ‘y’ replacing the ‘i’ and more formally known as Co-operative Republic of Guyana)
The repetition of the line ‘This is the dark time, my love’ emphasizes on what a dreadful and fearful time it was. They were almost there, almost free of the British hold.
Even Mother Nature herself was aware of the struggle: ‘The shining sun is hidden in the sky. Red flowers bend their heads in awful sorrow’
I quote:
‘This is the dark time, my love,
It is the season of oppression, dark metal, and tears.
It is the festival of guns, the carnival of misery.
Everywhere the faces of men are strained and anxious.’
Those lines alone tells me how bad it was. I am transported back in time when chaos, fear, hate were in abundance where hope hung by a thread but there was still hope nonetheless.
Who comes walking in the dark night time?
Whose boot of steel tramps down the slender grass?
It is the man of death, my love, the strange invader
Watching you sleep and aiming at your dreams.
Aiming at the dreams of the innocent, people who had a right to look forward for a brighter future for their country and themselves. Free of being bullied, hated and looked down upon because of being different only to have a dark shadow cast over them by the invasion of the soldiers.
~~~
This simple poem touched me deep somewhere inside and being a Guyanese myself it holds a bit more meaning to me. After years of British reign Guyana became a free country on May 26th, 1966. It’s during my days at high school when I began to appreciate poetry though some may be as easy to decipher as a foreign language.
