“Mistakes are proof that you are trying”

For most, mistakes are the end
No second chances
Sometimes not a third
You’re wrong
You’ve made a mistake
You’re bad

What would it be like living in a perfect worlds?
Where nobody made mistakes
Where nobody was wrong
Where everybody said the right thing and nobody ever had their feelings hurt
Where people fell in love once and stayed in love

Would there be arguments because everybody believed they were right?
Or would there be peace because nobody was wrong or did wrong?

Everybody makes mistakes
Love should withstand all these mistakes because that is the only way to grow

At least you’re trying
To better yourself
And you stumble
And fall
Sometimes repeatedly
And make mistakes
Sometimes the same ones

But at least you’re trying
And that should count for something.




Waste of Space

Letting people
Who mean little to me
To whom I mean just as little
Live rent free in my mind

Taking over

Waste of space
Waste of time
Waste of emotional energy

Time to be rid of it
To clear the clutter
To cleanse myself of the negativity
The people
The energies

Enough is enough

I’m done sharing my mind
Polluting it with others insanity

I’m done



Pointless Drama

I have to admit
I still enjoy the drama
Other people’s drama
I guess that’s why places such as Facebook are so amusing for me
And the same reason I had to remove myself from from my old account
Watching people so involved in their drama
And thinking

But I’m no innocent
I’ve had my fair share of drama
Created it
Dove deep in it

But as I get older..
Oh the old age of 28
A mother of two and a wife
Do I really have time?

No, it’s not patience
I definitely lack patience
I just…

Don’t care anymore




“Giving birth is one of the most beautiful natural things a woman can do”


Natural, yes.
Beautiful, no.

The books don’t tell you.
And most mothers won’t either
Because they either want to forget…
Or they don’t want to scare you.

Maybe the books mean beautiful in a spiritual way.
Cos physically, it is disgusting.

Other bits
Being pushed out of your vagina…

Yeah it’s not pretty.

When I gave birth to my son,
My sister was there with filming it.
A few months later, we turned on her laptop to try and watch it…

And neither of us could.

I think childbirth videos are the stuff horror and alien movies are made of.

My daughters birth wasn’t much better, but at least I was better prepared.

A water birth
And the environment I was in made it more “beautiful” but nonetheless…

When i talk to my pregnant friends,
I tell them the truth.

It ain’t pretty.

It’s worth it…
At some point afterwards.
After the pain
The cramps
After you’ve healed…

But don’t be a sucker and expect it to be glorious and clean.




My Truth

Here is the truth

I am me

I am a mother
A wife
A daughter
A teacher
A friend

But I am still me

Only very recently
Did I become me

And I mean, everywhere, with everyone,

My personality doesn’t change
Nor does my character

I perhaps am more tactful when I have to be

But I don’t change for anyone
Not to suit anybody’s else’s needs or expectations

This is who I am

If you ask me how I am
I will tell you

If you didn’t really want to hear my answer
Then why did you bother asking in the first place

Like it
Love it
Or leave it

I don’t have a gun to your head
I never asked you to stay
If you don’t like who I am
Then please
Go away



The Truth

Nobody wants to hear the truth unless its pleasant.

When people ask “how are you?” It’s just to keep the conversation going.
Rarely do they genuinely care.
They want to hear “yeah I’m fine thanks, how are you?”

They don’t want to hear about your bad night.

About the abuse.

About the tears you’ve cried.

They want simple and safe.

Because the truth isn’t always safe.

Most often, the truth is painful, to yourself or others.

Telling your truth means that they have to face their truth also.
And they don’t want that.
They don’t want to face their truth.
Because it hurts.

Better to deny
And repress
And suffer inside
Than tell people your truth.

Oh why are you crying? Are you sad?
No I’m fine
Is what they want to hear
Yes, I’m sad and scared because every night my uncle comes into my room.
Awkward. What do people say to that?

Why are you wearing long sleeves, it’s so hot.
Yeah I don’t feel well
Is what they want to hear
It’s because I’m so depressed I cut my wrists everyday and I don’t want you to see them.

The truth is ugly
And ugly is unacceptable.
People only want to see the beauty
The smiles

Not the tears
The rage
The pain

So what?
We’re all living a lie?
All actors on this wonderful soap opera called life?

What the hell?
What’s the point?
If you’re my friend, then you know my story.
You know of my pain and i know yours
So why should I pretend that everything is so wonderful all the fucking time when reality isn’t so?
And it’s ok that it isn’t so.

But apparently it’s inappropriate
Your negative feelings
They are inappropriate.

So fuck Facebook and the show off competition of whose life is better and whose children are the cutest.

Fuck that.

I want to live in reality
Where the beauty and the ugliness are one and acceptable.

Where it’s ok to be me and its not not about showing everyone how happy I am all the time.