Sunday 17 May 2020

a letter to my insecurity


posting this wishing no-one reads it or that everyone does, hoping to find kindness, which i know all of you are all the time

Dear Insecurity,
Writing this down I find it hard to start. I guess I’ll start by telling you how much I hate you. I’m sorry if that hurt your feelings, but it’s the truth. I hate how you make me feel when I’m in a new situation. Telling me that it is probably not even going to work, to not even try. Even before failing, before gaining lessons. For putting doubts in my head that weigh me down, even when I most need you not to. You make me doubt my every move, whispering your silent, empty words, gnawing at my good thoughts. Eating away Carelessness and Confidence. “Will you ever have enough?” I sometimes ask you. No is your reply. “No and you couldn’t stop me even if you tried.” Because it’s not that I don’t try to get rid of you. I’ve read my share of books and quotes. When will it be enough?

Sunday 10 May 2020

another six o'clock adventure

 

27 April '20

At the break of dawn. On King's Day 2020. A memory forever cherished. 

The soft gushing of the wind, which left the leaves bristling. The cool air that brushed against our cheeks as we raced to see the sun come up. The sweet chittering of birds in the morning sky, still waking up from a night's sleep, but so alive. My mother and I, quietly in awe of nature's beating heart. In the early morning everything is different. Everything is bright. Everything is sleepy and okay and calm. 

How I love that calmness.

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