For a long time, I've tried to understand sadness: to make sense of dejection; that cruel black master hounding men & women to an early grave. Maybe as an attempt at self-diagnosis, pre-emption, or simply curiosity: I can't tell. What I can tell is that I finally have my answer.
Beautiful, sunny morning. You know what, folks: it'll be alright. Not all of it. But something will give. Eventually. And if none does, you will build the resilience for it. And, maybe, if you are lucky, learn to see and soak in the silver linings. Today will be a beautiful day.
I find great solace in the words "do the next thing": To do what I can, with what I have. And never to make of grand dreams today's constitution. Doing the next thing could be as simple as making your bed. Or taking a shower. If I can do the small things well. I should be fine.
A month ago, a boda hit pedestrians and rammed into me as he was escaping. I stopped as he had hit me so hard, his bike broke into three, he broke my rim, removed my bumper & flew to hit the next moving car. He was hurt badly. I panicked. I came out of my car.
#ThreadOnBodas