Tuesday, February 21, 2023

Stay magical mom 2

 Dear eman

I am sorry I am awful in the morning

When you come to ask my help in your uniform I’m like a mess of mess so wrecked from feeding a 2 months baby you always come in my minutes sleep 

I get mad as I’m just

So

Tired

I know it’s no excuse

But I’ve never been this toast

Along with my disgusting eating 

I’m not magical 

More like the peat lake in those fairy stories that trolls live in 

Dark dirty and murky 

I just realised also I treat you exactly like how my mother treats me in every way I do not like

So she must be exhausted too?

No doubt

She’s lonely too

No doubt

She’s deep down sad and angry too

And I don’t mean at me

Dear beautiful I’m sorry 

I’m sick of who I’ve become

Absolutely rotten 

This is 

NOT WHO I ADMIRE 

But I am not here to stay in this ugly mindset

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What it is...

I see Life like a rose in the ice... beautiful but with cold settings - There are so many incredible things out there - but we always need to fight and perservere against the hardships too... otherwise the cold will win ... and we will wither away.

My imagination has led me to believe in something called 'Sudan Fairytale' -
The fantasy that My country will one day be independant and proud, never selfsish to provide its people with its needs, give freedom and success to all, be forever committed to achieve a prosperous inhabitance to every Sudanese in their own country-

My eyes fail me and I see the truth which I call - 'Khartoum Heartbreak' - This is a theme running through the blog under the 'Khartoum Heartbreak' Poems and whatever else about Sudan conveying broken down love, poor streets and cut off electricity along with a lot of other decays and problems in Khartoum city Life.

But I love my country and so I have no choice but to merge the Pain and the Love as one.

Faith is my heart and I could never do without it hoping in my prayers that I can be someone better always and that God forgives me as I fall in Mistakes through that frozen path of Life...

Sometimes I feel under control with all the too many emotions that run to colour my days and nights - Books, movies, music, dreams, friends, family, strangers, travel, - reality - the 10 O' Clock news -Most of the time I'm very Lost in trying to understand - whatever happens becomes tangled into writing this confusing memoir -

It's a really odd combination of air - not sure whether it is refreshing or suffocating - stabilising or maddening - But I breathe and
so it is
'Memoirs of a Sudanese breath' as I am 'Lost but under control' -