Our Side of the Story

Lol I glitched a few times but hey I tried to put what was in my head in a piece. Until next week have a good night🤍💜

At last apologize to yourself for forgetting to love you and not know how.🖤

Here are some of your definitions and perspectives😊

Here are some of your definitions and perspectives😊

This right here is why I am thankful for words! As I took a walk today emotions overwhelmed me, noticing every breathing creature and feeling God through them I wanted to write something, sing something or play something but I just couldn't put my brain together and now I received this. Wheew so thankful✨🤍✨

I looked for big things in everything. Signs. Faces. Feelings. Even the ones hidden. Even the ones you think you are hiding. REASSURANCE. In every single thing. Tons of them. The story behind people's eyes. Their trauma and their happiness. I look to notice why they are shaking their leg. What is worrying them? Faces in the bus lost into the abyss when you look at their eyes. Maybe they miss home. Maybe they miss their mother. The bags beneath old woman sitting by the gate in the church. Are they the tears she held in? Are they the tears of her son when he got his heart broken? Are they the tears he didn't weep? What about the stars? Not the same poetry line about how they shine rather why one seems brighter the other dimmer?is it hiding its beauty from us or is it just sad? The house help. Her back. Is it hurting? Is it angry at her for it? See,you may think those things are imminent,not worthy of a thought,not that big. But believe me take a minute and wonder. You'll see. But somedays. Somedays. It's the little things that enchant me. How my daddy's shoes lie beneath his bed after a tiring work day. My mother's smile after she cried. How she makes her pearls look good. The people making their way to church at 12 o'clock just when the sun start shining. A bunch of old men talking about politics like they run the country. That erupting laughter in the middle of their talks. Even the shouts of those middle aged men watching football. When a child holds your finger with his whole fist. A newborn sleeping soundly. How my parents never stop thinking and worrying for the lives they created fearing they might not wake up tomorrow. God. Isn't God beautiful? These thoughts. Aren't they? This is what makes me remember that life is beautiful. Love is beautiful. Pain is beautiful. This little details. Are you willing to look? -Yeab T🌬

I don't think it's been a year since I had the courage to share my writings to people. Because I thought it would be an opening to what goes on in my world, and the thought alone was distressing. But luckily people didn't mind about the writer just the piece and that gave me more courage to write more, hidden behind my pieces. I think I became used to that and watching this took me back to the moment where I first feared to show the dysfunctional writer.

Watch "The Curse of Creativity" on YouTube https://youtu.be/6r-AcnkP_ug

For most of my life I struggled with making people understand the reasons to why I do the things I do. To make it sensible for them to grasp the knowledge of what it's like to be me. My past experiences...things I have done in the past have left scars,those on the inside still rotting to this day and those on the outside that looked like they have healed to deceive those who look at them. That struggle sometimes tightens the noose and sometimes it sings me to sleep.....that is if you dare to call it a lullaby. I have come to learn that not every word is meaningful and not every word is understood but to say "I could see no other way to survive. That's why I did it" is my bandage to hide your questions I ask myself everyday. And isn't that what I have been waiting for my entire life-something to silence the voice. -Yeab🌬