I have chosen to post this on my blog solely as I might break some rules if I post it on the available communities. This is a rant so if you have enough on your mind, kindly scroll past as it is also my truth.
I am to blame for selfishly using my unpolished writing skills to heal myself and thus translates to some emotionally invested pieces. They sting so to most they leak of my melancholy and to some, I am a subject of interest.
But this art of sharing self is infested with shame and the permanence of this wounded ink on this blockchain doesn't help matters in this case either. If you can't see past the courage it takes to write from my perspective, I don't think there would be any need to convince you of how it feels to be misjudged.
Three days of weighing my next moves as the grip on my neck tightened. Everything feels like a scene from a bad movie as the country plunges further into the politics of the upcoming general elections. My anxiety is over the roof and it will remain like so until this whole process is behind us.
From rent arrears to maddening food and gas prices to the crossing of my fingers that exercising our rights doesn't resurrect the tribalism insanity that drives this nation to the pits of post-election violence, I think I am allowed to say that I am losing it.
I live in a rather safe neighbourhood but I am aware when things get as ugly as they are through the campaigns, anything is possible and I have once been at the centre of it. Only peace can warrant me security as there is nothing glorious about community members turning to each other with machetes.
The scary bit is if I am unable to clear my arrears (which should be done by this Friday) or not have enough dry food in the house. I am also supposed to harvest during the same week of the elections but where my farm is a distance from my house and I haven't experienced that place during the election period so I don't know if it will be safe to go there.
When I disappear as I had for days, I do it to try the impossible. But now, the impossible is unattainable.
I want the missing in action bit to stop as it is affecting my fluency in a community I have fought to still be a part of but it might not as life comes in different strokes to us all.
This and the intrusive thoughts that come with pressing the publish button after I have vulnerably flooded these timelines keep me from recycling my state but that also does not help resolve it too.
And so I must bleed what is there to bleed... A silver blogger once told me the only way to be is to be myself and right now, I am overwhelmed in every sense of the word. If you are in a place to, donate what you can, if you can't or prefer not to, please understand that it is also okay but I am kindly asking not to be crucified as I have every time I have dared to ask for help.
if you can, donate some erc20 usdt to...
0x9c988dC54EEB7BEB977E299767c1a1c4F58B3ae6
...wambuku w.
