Little Challenge, Great Results!

Do you know that feeling when you learn something new and you get a hang of it and suddenly you just can’t let go? Or you are really having a hard time in your Math class and one day you just give it your all and you get something right? How about when you’ve been avoiding something because you actively lazy and one day when you give it a try, you realise you should’ve given it a shot long ago? Right, let’s get into this.

My mom and my younger sister, Janet, would sometimes call me lazy. Maybe because I would just sit on the sofa with my legs in the air and watch when they moved the furniture around or I would just sit with a pot of food between my legs when they would be doing the laundry. Or sometimes when I would just sit and watch as my mom taught Janet how to knit and then show her how to sew designs onto sacks that would eventually be sold to tourists. That was me. On my lazy days.

I wasn’t like that all the time, I had my ‘active’ days too and I hate sounding like I am always trying to justify myself but this is my honest truth. I might less slightly be in a position to help compared to my little sister, but that’s only because I know she’s around. However, there are days when she refuses to do anything (inactively) and I have to take up everything. Not that I’m always really mad about it because I get away with laziness more than she does.

Anyway, my mom tried to get me to knit ages ago but I never really learned. I just remembered that I had Home Ecology in grade 7 and the knitting chapter was the worst. I sucked at it. During the winter the girls would use lollipop sticks and some thread to knit little scarfs or just to show that they could knit, I was never one of them.

Recently I had to face the knitting culture when I came to Norway and I knew there was no running away from it because the folks up here knit like crazy. Of course not everybody does that, that’s why you can make some good cash, when you sell it to other people. Some of my fellow students at Pasvik Folk High School knitted like crazy. They would knit socks, mittens, sweaters, baby clothes and hats with breath-taking designs. I loved watching them knit the days away and talk about it like it was the one thing that brought them closer, which it did.

After the whole thing with coronavirus and lockdown started, I decided to pay my knitting a visit. I was tired of always running away, scared as always. This time I owned up, decided to try something new, give it a shot.

So far I’ve knitted socks, two hats and mittens. This post, however, is about a hat I just finished a few days ago which happens to be a yellow beautiful hat that I fall in love with every single time I see it.

Aunt Iselin showed me two hats that she had knitted before and asked if I wanted to try something different or just knit the normal way. I was up for a challenge, and honestly it took me a couple of minutes to decide whether to give it a try or not, but eventually I made up my mind and that was it.

It was tough in the beginning, stressful too and each time I would say something like, “uhm aunt Iselin, kan du hjelpe meg igjen?”, with a wide smile on my face. Each time aunt Iselin would smile and say, “det går bra, vi fikse det!“.

At some point she would sit with my hat and correct some of the blunders I’d made, like losing masks or not putting them together properly or just not counting correctly. I got a D in Math!

Saturday night, about an hour before midnight, I finished the last parts of my phenomenal hat and as I did throughout the whole project, I just smiled and said:

Wow, I’m really impressed. This is amazing!

Aunt Iselin smiled too and I could tell that she was proud of me. Proud that I had tried so hard and gotten it done almost perfectly. One thing though, she said, was that I had to compliment myself about the little good things I did too. Not just acknowledge great leaps, because life is about small steps, each day. I know why she said that, I’m working towards that too<3

hearts, Queen

#blogging #knitting #norway #namibia #hobbies

Stone In My Eye

Most kids I knew back then, including myself, usually didn’t have anything for breakfast. It was all about just getting up in the morning, preparing for school and then making it on time. I made sure that I got there early rather than late because I hated standing by the gate and having one of the teachers or older kids ask me questions and write down my name(bad record).

The year was 2013, I was in my last year of primary school education (grade 7) and so I did some things abit more differently, like walking around the school more often to acquint myself with the students and hanging with almost everybody. I remember I had been one of the few students that were elected as student representatives and so were my two close friends, it was like the dream team. The first few weeks was awesome, the kids noticed you when you walked into a room, they asked for help and they did as they were told. I bonded more with most of them.

About a month later I grew tired of the whole thing, I decided to drop out. I told myself that I was no leader, how could I lead others if I didn’t have a voice to even speak up for myself? That was a dumb decision, now I realise that I would’ve learned a lot if I took that on as a challenge but I was a coward and that’s why to this day, I am still dealing with that issue.

Anyway, one day my friends and I went to play on the netball court as we used to during P.E. Our then P.E teacher was a tough lady who made us do squats like crazy. Honestly I didn’t even know what they were called back then, just that ‘knee-exercise’ I’d say.

Just after the bell rang, all the girls hurried over to the classroom to change their clothes, I spoke with a close friend of mine as we slowly walked. She suddenly thought it was a smart idea to pick up some sand and throw it at me, to annoy me of course and then I would get mad and chase her around. Well, her aiming was horrible and somehow a little stone got into right eye.

I sunk to the ground and covered my eye as I felt the discomfort spread inside my eye. My friend panicked, she ran and got some water for me to rinse it out but that didn’t help.

It was just the second period of the day when that had happened, by break-time my eye was red and teary almost all the time. I didn’t make a big deal out of it but the thought of having a little stone in my eye freaked me out. One of my friends tried blowing the stone out but it just went deeper and deeper, until we could no longer see it.

A few days ago I thought about that incident and all the other times when strange things get into one’s eye. Things that cause so much pain one moment and within a couple of minutes/hours it just disappears. Not really disappears but I guess it goes ahead and causes more damage?

hearts, Queen

#blogging #eye #storytime

The Ride 2

For about fifteen minutes, 11 year old Antifun had a taxi driver’s hand up her skirt as she sat holding her breathe, her tears steadily rolling down her cheeks. It hurt, he hurt her as he kept pushing his fingers inside of her while having his other hand on the steering wheel.

To other drivers it probably looked like everything was okay, also, Antifun was really short so people couldn’t really see that there was somebody in the passenger seat unless if they stood close to the taxi. He had forced her to keep her head down to and molested her all the way until they came to a corner where he was supposed to drop her off.

He pulled his hand away and looked at her with no emotion at all and said,

“Say hi to your dad for me”.

Antifun was shaking, she didn’t even listen to what he said because she too busy trying to stand on her feet. In her mind the horrible incident was still taking place and she just couldn’t snap out of it. The next moment she saw the car drive off and there she stood alone, in her school uniform, just a few blocks away from her dad’s house.

So many thoughts ran through her mind so she decided to take time and sit down. Had that really just happened? She couldn’t believe it. She tried telling herself that it was a bad dream, but then she felt the pain and discomfort between her legs, and knew it was real. It had happened. A friend of her dad had molested her in a taxi, in his taxi.

She couldn’t really understand that she wasn’t to blame at all but she kept coming to that point.

“I could’ve stopped him. I could’ve screamed. I could’ve bitten him. I could’ve done something”, she kept saying over and over as she slowly stood up and walked away.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have smiled so much. Maybe I should’ve worn my trousers today. Maybe I…”

“..there she is!”, shouted her father as he opened the gate for her.

He had no idea what had just happened. He had no idea that something bad had happened to his daughter. The smile on his face warmed her heart a bit and the jumping castle in the frontyard suddenly distracted her mind from the incident that had left her traumatized.

To be continued…

hearts, Queen

#fiction #writer #blogging #namibian #molest #rape #violence

Awesome Black Child (in Russia)

Earlier this year, towards the end of January, a group of students from my school went to Russia to stay with Russian host families for a week. The school has an arrangement with the Russian school in Murmansk, so each year students from Pasvik Folk High School are hosted by Russian families.

Murmansk is about 108km from the Norwegian border and so we drove with a mini-bus for almost the whole day. No, I’m not sure. We drove around 9 in the morning and got to Murmansk around 5 or 6 in the evening, I’m not sure. We had some activities planned with the Russian school for the whole week and then in the evenings we would get free time and go to the mall(s) and eat out or just chill. It was a great experience for me, especially since it was my first time staying with a host family in a foreign country.

In the year 2012, Murmansk had about 303,754 people. With this number I’m trying to suggest that atleast a handful of this people would be black people. Whether they were studying there, working there or were just on holiday. Frankly speaking, the year is now 2020 and that number has obviously increased over the years with the expectation that the number of black people living in the city would be fairly noticeable, if I have to put it that way. But then again, I could be wrong.

During the time that I was in Murmansk, I remember that I didn’t really see any black people at all. The reason could be that I moved only within one area(although I went to the two biggest malls in the city), we spent a lot of time at the school and we were only there for four days I think.

You might be wondering why I’m talking about the black population of a city in northwest Russia, well here’s why.

Firstly, my short stay in Russia was memorable. I’ve never had an experience like that, never even dreamed of one and as with everything else, I kept feeling like I was auditioning for a movie role. My host family was awesome, the activities we had were fantastic, it was just great sightseeing in Murmansk.

The highlight of the trip for me was eating at a really fancy restaurant and when we visited the ice-breaker “Lenin”. According to Wikipedia, it was both the world’s first nuclear-powered surface ship and the first nuclear-powered civilian vessel and it was launched in 1957. What amazed me about Lenin was that it was so huge, and it was an actual icebreaker back in the day. It’s currently a museum ship so we took a tour around it, I loved seeing how it used to function. I’m not even crazy about icebreakers, I guess actually being on one made me see them a bit differently.

Oh well, let’s get back to being me…

On the last day of school, which happened to be my birthday, the two schools were exchanging gifts and thanking each other for working together and that they would keep the relationship going. In the class we had the Russian students who hosted us and the rest of the group from my school, it was a full class.

One moment I was sitting and smiling at a chocolate bar that a friend gave to me, the next I heard the Russian teacher call my name and I was confused for a while. Then I realised that she was looking at me and ushering me to the front of the class, and so I stood up. Dammit, I don’t even like standing infront of the class!

I thought I’d make an exception since it was my birthday and so I smiled and stood next to the teacher. She said something along the lines of:

“…we have never had a student from Namibia(she was trying to say a black student but let’s carry on) and so we thought we’d give you a present to say thank you for being here(she was really nice)…”

She handed me a glass plate with paintings of women on it and said:

“..we want you to know that you are very beautiful, just like this Russian women here. Don’t ever forget that..”

The teacher had a soothing voice and a pretty smile, which made me smile(awkwardly). I must admit that I was somewhat embarrassed that she had called me out in front of the class and just thanked me like that. It was a really nice gesture, but I feel like after everyone realised what was going on, the room became very tense. I thanked her and walked to my sit, wishing the ground would swallow me up.

A friend of mine who was also in that class that day asked me about that experience the other day and we laughed like crazy about it. He couldn’t understand that they actually did that, since they might have come across other black people in the city. The teacher emphasized a lot on that part and that’s where things got a bit awkward, but it was a really weird experience for me.

In the end I concluded that she thanked me for being ‘awesomely black’, that’s why I appreciated the gesture. I mean who can avoid see all this melanin when it’s glowing so much?!

People have different reactions to different situations, I learned that through this. I also learned that some people handle some situations better than others(the teacher was nice). For example, during that week I got on a public bus with some friends and found four Russian boys(about 14-16 years old) just staring at me. They did that until they got off and that was uncomfortable. Don’t do that. Rather look down if you not even gonna say anything, that goes for me too when I see something I’m not used to!

This post is getting way too long, bye now.

hearts, Queen

#russia #blacksinrussia #icebreaker #hostfamily #chill #blogging

Ninety-Nine Problems (Generation Y/ Gen Next)

For a long time I’ve been struggling to put my words onto paper. Thanks @Zaexanthe for this accurate post!

Still Being Written

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“And today I realized I am the biggest hypocrite of them all. I tell everyone to keep holding on that there is light at the end. That everything gets better as long as you continue to wait. I always tell people to have hope. That they need to keep trying because it is too early to give up, that they have much to live for. Then there is me and I am barely holding on. “J.W

Life can sometimes make you feel like you are drowning, and everyone else is just watching you sink. I have been in situations where I have felt like I was drowning and I needed someone to save me. I was scared and tired at the same time. I feared failure , but I had no urge to be productive. I wanted my friends , but totally hated socializing. I wanted to be alone but…

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On My Bad Days…

Today was another of those days where I just crawled into my shell and kept beating myself over and over again for just being who I am, I know that sounds sick. But that’s the best way I could put it down in writing.

Even if I have said it a hundred times before, even if I’m still going to cry over it a thousand more times.. I decided to write about it. Maybe I will get some clarity next time, if I’m even able to read anything. You might be confused at this point wondering what I’m talking about. Let me get to the point then, folkens.

I’m the hardest with myself on days that I’m feeling down. I end up hating me, criticizing everything I’ve ever done, compare myself to others and laugh at the idea of me being my own person. It just sounds insane to me that I actually have to take care of myself, do stuff on my own when really I’m just a ‘dumb 20 year old’ that doesn’t have strong opinions about things and hides in other’s shadows because she doesn’t know how to speak up for herself-that is me on my bad days.

The list goes on to say how anti-social I am, how I don’t deserve the things that have happened to me and how ugly I am. Silly thoughts like just walking away from who I am cross my mind(although that is humanly not possible!). Or other thoughts like getting lost or waking up dead cross my mind. Yes, ‘waking up dead’ is a thing. Argue with me in the comments section!

Being ‘alone’ for this long has maybe started messing with my brain and so I have more ‘bad’ days then good ones. I feel embarassed when I have to hang with some of my friends who are coming up to the school to get their stuff because I have, for the most part, forgotten how to speak Norwegian. Aunt Iselin would argue that we speak Norwegian almost all the time but I always feel like I’m not doing enough and so I just hold back, keep hating myself for being me.

On my bad days I’m a horrible person. I become selfish and ignore that other people might have bigger issues than I do. I don’t listen to what happens around me because I am so busy digging myself into a grave that only keeps getting deeper until I might not even be able to save myself. That is scary.

What makes me happy? Writing does. Going for a walk wakes me up. Taking pictures brings a smile to my face. Listening to music and dancing makes me feel alive. Singing out loud in the middle of nowhere makes me feel free, that’s when I’m at my happiest. Talking to my loved ones soothes me.

Imagine if none of those things can’t get me into a good mood, what then?

Lucky for me, I’ve got aunt Iselin who listens to my repetitive, sometimes depressing and exaggerated thoughts over dinner or while we just knitting. It really helps to talk it out and see it in a different light when it’s out there. Exactly the reason why I’m able to write this now, even though yesterday was a really bad day for me, good company helps!

Remember, embrace the bad days, you might learn something new out of it. Like I’m doing now, kama giving advice about bad days when I’m a sucker for them!

NB: I had the #eurovision2020 playlist in my background as I wrote this, I love almost every song<3

hearts, Queen

#blogging #writer #discover #feelings #namibian #youngblogger #baddays #happiness

May 17 in Norway

I like how in Norway they celebrate their Constitutional Day and have so much pride in it, who wouldn’t? It made me aware that Norwegians have come a long way and have worked hard to be one of the world’s richest and happiest countries. I count myself lucky every day for being here.

It’s not really the same as indepence day back home when we fought for freedom from colonial rule but I understand the sense of celebration, it unites people and it’s a beautiful day to show off our cultures and all that. Anyway, today I’d like to share my experience of May 17 in Norway. You should be aware that it was a bit different compared to all the other years due to the coronavirus(I’ll get into that later), but by the end of the day I had an idea of how the day usually is, and I was very content with my experience.

According to what I’ve been told and what I saw on television from past celebrations, May 17 is a day of children’s parades, lots of ice-cream, hot dogs and just getting together and celebrating how they are one as a country. There are parades everywhere. The huge parade in Oslo includes about 100 school’s marching bands which passes the royal palace, where the royal family stand by the balcony and greet them. This time around, I saw on television that the King and Queen drove a little around the city, stopping at hospitals and random streets to just wave at the people. It was great to see how some people would just start jumping like crazy when they saw the royal family drive past them, I can imagine. That’s huge!

But… this year was different.

The day started off with me, aunt Iselin and some other friends heading to Svanhovd to watch a small band play the national official song and a few others. There were a handful of people and so there was room for each group to be on their own, thus adhering to the rule of social distancing. It was really nice to see how people were eager to greet each other, even from a distance and just be around a group of people. Most folks had traditional Norwegian costumes on, also referred to as bunad. I think its really beautiful, especially because there are different designs based on where you come from and all that. Most dresses are really just beautiful.

Well, just before we got back from there Aunt Iselin thought it would be a nice idea to go skiing, in her bunad and me in the ‘fancy’ pants I had on. I thought that sounded fun and so we put our skis on and went out. It was hard to fathom that we are now slowly approaching summer and yet we still had so much snow, like enough to last at least another month(or more), I don’t know.

I hadn’t skied in a while so it was really nice to get out there, feel the fresh air and smell whatever it is that smelled like nature. Probably that pure, cold Norwegian air. It was fun seeing aunt Iselin ski in her bunad, I kept saying:

“You look like a true Norwegian, not that you’re not. But still”

She laughed every time I said that.

A few minutes into our ski tour, we paused and took a lot of amazing pictures that I will exclusively be sharing with you. It was fun because we would switch and take pictures until eventually we ended up placing my phone on a tree, turned on the timer and took pictures together. Thank technology for that!

It was calm and just chilled, I was down for that. After that we headed home and had ice cream with chocolate powder, I thought that tasted really good. And then we had a special Norwegian dinner which was really good because the potetmos was home-made. Plus, whatever food aunt Iselin makes or I have anywhere in Norway is fancy to me because that’s not what I always ate back home.

Chocolate powder and ice cream!

By the end of the day, we were invited to have some cake and had some wine with that( courtesy of aunt Iselin). We were five people, just enjoying the almost-not setting Pasvik sunset and having a cosy time. The cake was really good, and the wine was from South Africa!

Gratulerer med dagen, Norge!

Till next time

hearts, Queen

#norway #may17 #syttendemai #celebrations

The Ride

It was mid-August in Windhoek, Namibia. The year was 2009. Antifun’s dad lived on the fancier side of the city while her mom lived in the informal settlements, also referred to as “shacks”. It had always been hard for her to fit in on her father’s side of the family, especially when there were family-gatherings and she had to play with the other kids. They didn’t want to play with her because they said she had an unpleasant smell, from head to toe. Whenever they played hide-and-seek, they would always tell her to hide while they took off to some other place and played without her.

Hanging with her mom’s side of the family was more natural and fun because they didn’t care if she was dirty or not, they didn’t care if she smelled bad or not. Her cousins played with her, rolled with her in the sand and asked her to join if they were going to buy sweets or play uma under a tree. That’s where home was.

The day before her 11th birthday, her dad asked her if she wanted to have a pre-party at his house with the pool and everything fancy. She said yes because she didn’t want to disappoint her dad by not showing up. The only problem was that her mom was working late that day and couldn’t take her to her dad’s plus everyone else had stuff to do so her dad organised a taxi to pick her up after school. That was fancy, she thought.

Little Antifun stood waiting by the gate after school, waiting for a taxi to pull up and call her by her name. That’s what her dad said. It was now a little over 2pm and no driver had stopped and called her or anything. Most of her friends had left too, it was more quiet now.

“Antifun /Uiras!”, called a voice from the other side of the street and waved at her. He showed up at last and Antifun felt more relaxed.

With a smile, she crossed the road carefully and greeted the driver. She had seen him before at her dad’s house so her smile widened because of the familiar face.

“Get into the front sit, I might get more customers”, he said kindly and placed both his hands on the steering wheel as he got ready to drive off.

It was an okay ride, it usually took about 30 minutes to get to her dad’s so most of the time she tried recalling the times table or counting houses or cars as they passed. Her mom had taught her that counting was a good way to start getting better at Mathematics and she was already doing really well compared to the rest of her classmates.

She suddenly felt something against her thigh and what happened next left her traumatised for a long time, until she started seeing a shrink at the age of 17 to be able to move on from that part of her life.

The driver grabbed her thigh and rubbed her as if he was getting ready to do worse. Her heart suddenly started racing and she was breathing faster, it was hard to comprehend what was going on. Antifun was scared, terrified that she wasn’t even able to scream. She also knew that would be sort of pointless since the windows were closed.

To be continued…

hearts, Queen

#blogging #writer #fiction

Do You Even Know Me?

Ask me why I am so protective of myself. Ask me why I get worked up when somebody talks about my tribe. Ask me why Mathematics makes me cry. Ask me why I’m so insecure about my legs. As me why I feel like I always have to try harder. Ask me why I act the way I do. Ask me when was the last time I spoke to my mom. Ask me what music I listen to. Ask me how I plan on making a better life for my community. Ask me how many nights I cry myself to sleep because my cup been overflowing with blessings. Ask me why I used to eat only twice each day. Ask me why I showed up with dirty clothes at school sometimes.

Ask me how I felt when my dad took me to school with a bicycle. Ask me my middle name. Ask me how many times I moved around with my mom. Ask me why I’m an introvert that sometimes acts like an extrovert. Ask me why I’m really writing this right now. Ask me if I’ve ever been inlove. Ask me about that time I peed in bed. Ask me what happened to my forehead. Ask me if climate change is real. Ask me if I really want to be successful or it’s just a front. Ask me who I am.

Ask me my shoe size. Ask me about the nights when it would rain and water would be pouring in from the roof. Ask me why I love writing so much. Ask me if I want to get married. Ask me about selling my ovaries. Ask me to stop telling you to ask me stuff.

hearts, Queen

#questions #life #love #blogging

When A Lonely Girl…

When a lonely girl falls in love, she forgets about all the failed relationships she’s heard from her friends when she was in grade 10. She forgets about failed love stories like A Walk To Remember and A Fall From Grace. In fact, she suddenly focuses more on fairy tales like Cinderella because she wants to have that too, she dreams about it. Alas, she has no idea that she might not be that lucky and that it might not have been true love at first sight after all.

It’s kind of funny how she wants to understand love and everything about it when she can’t even really understand herself. How she longs to love and be loved in return when the only image of love she has in her mind is that that has been portrayed to her on television(which is not always true and might have given her false hope). She doesn’t understand that feelings change and that a few years from now, what was true about them might have completely changed. Like I read on some website that, “out of all emotions in the spectrum, love is the most potent and mysterious”.

When a lonely girl falls in love, this one person becomes her world and she worships them although she would never admit that she is. She acts all tough and tells her friends that she has not gone ‘all in’ with the person she’s dating while she has given away her heart and prays each night that this person would not disappoint her. She keeps hearing about failed relationships but chooses to block them out because she wants to believe that what she has is special, that it will last. In some cases it is true, some lonely girls fall right away and end up with their one true love, they are the lucky ones.

Most lonely girls reaches that one stage that feels like forever, that one stage where they feel like they will never make it out of there and they realise then that maybe they should’ve been more realistic with themselves.

It’s the stage when the one person that used to make them happy disappoints them, when their whole world falls apart and not even their best friends can make it all right. It’s when it feels like there’s this horrible pain in their hearts that won’t go away and that’s not even the worst thing. The worst thing is when they end up hating themselves because of the situation, looking down on themselves and wishing that they were not such a bad person. They blame themselves and crawl into their little shells because suddenly that’s where they feel the safest.

What lonely girls who have fallen in love and had their heart broken don’t realise is that they are not bad people at all, no matter the cause of the break up. They don’t realise that if it happened, it’s probably because they deserved way better and the universe just wanted to have it that way. Even more, blaming themselves makes them more losers because it makes them seem weak when really they tough as hell.

To my lonely girls who fell in love and had their hearts broken, remember how they say if it’s meant to be, it will be. Seriously, a couple of years from now you will run into the same person’s arms again because somehow it was just part of the plan. Or you will find somebody that will treat you like a goddess and still mess with your head because nothing will ever be perfect.

Bottom line is, you will always be awesome. Don’t let anybody ever make you feel less than that. You have a couple of failed relationships? So what? How long do toddlers learn before they can actually walk? You’ve had way more boyfriends than your friends? So what, what kind of friend would judge you for that anyway? You haven’t had a boyfriend at all? So what? Life doesn’t revolve around dating. You not into boys? Being gay/bisexual has nothing to do with if you’ll be successful or not.

The words,”When a lonely girl falls in love…”, were the first words I typed without having any idea what the whole post would be… Hope it was a good one!

hearts, Queen

#lovelife #gay #bisexual #feminism #inlove #heartbroken #success #career #blogging

Diary of a…(not a dragon)

Of all the things I could write about, of all the stories I could tell with so much passion and of all the memories I could share with you guys, suddenly that is just gone. A wave of sadness has washed over me and it’s deep and lonely and it makes me hate the now, hate where we are at this point in time.

It doesn’t have to be this way and I don’t want to sound selfish at all but this is what I’m feeling right now. Is it because after nine months we’ve said goodbye to each other at Pasvik Folk High School? Is it because the idea of being sort of alone at a place where I was used to having people around is getting to me? Could it be because most of the nights I go through pictures of my sisters and my mom, missing how simple things were and how I had some sort of inspiration back then? Feel like I touched something there, let me say more.

Now that I mentioned it above, it kind of makes sense to me. It’s that simple. I’m scared. I’m scared of what lies ahead, the plans I’ve made and if I will be able to be strong and tough to get them done. Fact is, the world is under panic right now, everybody is scared, if not most of us. Or maybe I am using what’s going on now as an excuse to be lazy, to make myself believe that everything will go wrong and that I will disappoint those that believe in me. That’s the bad voice, I shouldn’t pay attention to that.

Am I being selfish for missing my family when there are worst things going on in the world right now? Why then do I feel so bad each time I make myself something to eat or use the showe r because I know that my family isn’t having it like that. I know that right now things have changed, but only for me. I know that life in Katutura for them is just as I had left it. The only thing that has maybe changed for them is the fact that I left.

Why does it feel like I’m being too hard on myself and only because I want the best stuff for my family, doesn’t everybody?

I miss home, terribly. I miss my mom and my sisters and I miss Celine, our baby. I end up hating myself for being up here and almost having it all when they so far from me, yet I know that me being here is best for our future. So that we will be together, in better situations.

Keeping my sanity has been so much work lately, but I’m getting by. While I’m at it, I keep wondering if I’ve disappointed anyone? Been mean to people or made anyone feel like they were less than me? I’m sorry. If I did. That was never my intention, never will be. Take my word for it. It feels like I’m not spreading enough love, enough positivity and it drains me. I hate how much mind just works overtime.

Note to self: Do what you gotta do. Try harder. You know you can achieve anything you set your mind to.
*evil voice-you’ve been pathetic all along, you never get anything done. Why even try?*

If anything, I’ve been excited about the midnight sun. I’ll make a post about it sometime!

hearts, Queen

#sad #milleniallifecrisis #blogging #2020 #norway #namibia #foreigner #home

Inspired by ‘The Karate Kid’

Do you know that feeling when in a movie your favorite character who has really been continuously failing at something eventually gets it right at the end? You rejoice with them , maybe even cry if you’ve really been into the movie and it stirs something within you. It makes you smile, gives you hope and reminds you that that’s all it takes: to keep trying over and over again until you get it right. I just finished watching The Karate Kid for the nth time and it made me feel inspired, to do what? I don’t know but it surely woke something inside of me. Hence this post.

I was still up with my friends late last night just talking about how the school year has been and how we might link up again sometime, when I saw on my status that people had started posting stuff about Mother’s Day. Now of course I didn’t want to just write something for the sake of writing it and putting it up there to show that I am aware of what day it is, no. I decided to take screenshots of some statuses and share that because everything that I wanted to say had already been said, even better.

The point is, I saw all those beautiful texts about mothers and how wonderful they are and somewhere in between it gave me something to think about.

I forgot. Let me quote something and end this post here.

“TO ALL THE TIMES YOU SHOWERED ME WITH YOUR LOVE AND PROTECTED ME. TO ALL THE TIMES THAT YOU STOOD BY ME AND TOLD ME THAT I WOULD GET IT JUST RIGHT AND TO ALL THE TIMES YOU WALKED THAT EXTRA MILE TO MEET MY NEEDS. I WILL FOREVER BE GRATEFUL TO YOU. YOU’VE RAISED ME WELL AND FOR THAT, MY LOVE FOR YOU WILL NEVER RUN DRY. MAY GOD CONTINUE TO BLESS YOU ABUNDANTLY.”
-MY THOUGHTS IN WRITING.

To everyone that lost their mothers, I just want to say that they must be proud of just how well you’ve been getting by. Now probably stronger than ever and you will continue to make your dear mothers proud.

Two words: WRITER’S BLOCK.

It happens to the best of us:)

I might be contradicting myself now because when I started writing this post, I was really inspired but as I got into it I just felt drained and just, stuck. That’s why I decided to just end it.

hearts, Queen

#blogging