Story Time

reading
It’s been a while.

Events of the past few months would have made for some pretty interesting posts.

Birthday things.

Sethu’s hilarious toddler mannerisms.

Small goals being reached and goals missed.

Social media breaks.

Friends being fired.

A growing business.

Relationship…disagreements and resolutions.

Work things and politics.

The list goes on.

The point.

Everyone has a story to tell.

It’s not a competition.

Sometimes writing things down makes you feel better.

There might be something in what you write that I might find helpful.

Who knows, maybe my prayers are going to be answered through your next blog update.

She does work in mysterious ways.

~ Musa

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Blaming It On The Full Moon

It was on a night like this. Full moon and all. Think I was waist high. Full-Moon-e1406929374981

Another fight between my parents. Sister too young to notice.

It bled out to the street. I guess the house was too small.

She’s was so Orlando, managing to throw in some licks of her own.

In the background I was hearing a voice, it sounded foreign, of someone reprimanding my dad and my mom.

That’s when I realized it was my voice. So loud, it felt wrong. To be raising my voice like that to my parents?

Mom had sister wrapped around her back with a small blanket.

But what got me was how clear the night was, outside

So clear from the light from the moon. So clear it was as if God had Her stage light on. Just for us.

I too was smacked around as well for obeying my mother when she asked me to follow her with her wanting to leave.

Heck, she was leaving. Taking evening taxi’s my aunt’s place maybe…

Never got to ask.

Mixed emotions.

Happy mom is away. But sad that she’s gone.

I wouldn’t come back if I was her.

But I want her back.

Dad managed to rip my sister from mom’s back.

Was sis’ crying?

Maybe, but this memory is not about her, it’s about me.

Why the fuck am I witnessing this.

It can’t be real.

Was smacked back reality because I endangered myself by being on road and not safe on the pavement.

But it’s not my fault I’m outside so late this evening, dude

But I’ll take it.

I’ve been taking it. For a while now so… whatever.

But why are you doing this in front of my sister?

We’re back home now.

Mom’s not here though so we’re back in the house now.

Awkward silence now.

Sister on his knee trying to quiet her.

Don’t quite down baby.

This is an outrage.

Why you calming down now?

You going to betray me as well?

Wants from with the women in my life?

Women are trash.

What now.

It’s still light out.

Sister be sleeping now.

So it’s time for bed as well.

My heart fuming. Keeping me warm from the cool breeze that was outside.

Feeling hollow.

Playing the blame game. Blame my mother. Blame my father. Blame my sister. And blaming it on the full moon.

~ Musa

When Death, Time & Love Write Back 

I don’t like movies that make me cry.

Watching Collateral Beauty starring Will Smith had me squinting my eyes.

collateral_beautyHolding my tears back with my eyelids.

It’s been a while since I’ve watched a movie like that.

Evoking so much emotions then throwing me out of wack after it was done with me.

It was Mr. Smith’s best performance to date.

Enjoyed listening to the story behind the scenes on how he also experienced loss during the making of the movie.

How he just went all out in giving it all through the film.

Can’t wait until it’s out on Blu-ray.

It’s worth the watch.

Please forgive me.

I’m sorry.

Thank you.

I love you.

~ Musa

“Let the dead bury their own dead…”

Just want to extend on my Tumblr that the saying that goes “it gets easier with time,”… I don’t know about that hey.

The sting is still there, but maybe not as loud as before.

It’s like sand running through your hands.

She was alive…

…Then she wasn’t.

Followed by my friend’s father.

Then my work colleague.

Death was on a roll that’s for sure.

I think I don’t want to admit that it does get better with time.

Maybe because feeling the pain is evidence that it was real.

Her being with us, being with me.

But eventually there’s going to come a time when I will question whether this pain makes sense any more.

Or if it’s denying me the joy I could be experiencing right now.

But not right now.

~ Musa

PS: But one day I will. Life is too short to be living in the past.