I have always been 'aunty' in the first definition, but today I am also an 'aunt'.
At the outset, stress was a check against procrastination and a way to prevent yourself from producing shoddy work. Over the years, stress grew into a hungry blackhole that lived off my insecurities and weaknesses.
I see the whole world as a Realm of Possibility, without the false borders, a world within our worlds mostly in our heads.
I’ve seen these hills, they were the same when I first saw them and they are the same now.
A while has transpired between then and now.
We've become so comfortable in our own lack of safety having accepted danger as just a daily thing.
In small squares of sticky paper, we write notes to ourselves, it's a private conversation deemed irrelevant with time and isn't that our existence?
2019 is another Pandora's box we open tonight, so let's breathe easy before facing whatever's inside.
We're so afraid of insanity we drive ourselves insane.
Even English has become a gamble, I don't know what constitutes English anymore.