Highlights of 2017

When I was a kid, I used to believe in Santa. That time around Christmas, Santa used to come to school. Santa would give out Christmas presents and reward the best performing and well-behaved students. I so loved that period. In preparation of the event, with our teachers’ help, we would make Christmas decorations and cards for our folks, rehearse Christmas carols, plays and poems…it was very fun. And I always looked forward to that time. Sometimes, I wish I were a kid so that I could go back to that period. That care-free period. That period of innocence. When your folks paid a sum of money for you to go color within boundaries, sing, eat and play around till they came to pick you up. When you took a long nap and everyone would be proud of you.

Anyways, now that I have grown up, I don’t believe in Santa anymore though I still want to.

But I still love and celebrate Christmas. Who doesn’t love Christmas anyway? There’s so much positive energy during that time of the year…smiles coming from everyone, being friendly is the norm, everyone is jolly… Christmas is such an amazing time of the year. Christmas brings a change of mood. It warms up people’s spirits. You walk around and see all the fairy lights and pretty decorations that make everything so colorful and jolly. The mere feeling that it is Christmas is enough to make anyone happy. The warmth that Christmas brings is something that is amazing to end the year with.

2017 has been a tough year for me, being super broke, drawing, taking bamboo weaving lessons and learning Chinese (nimehau), being broke, taking tailoring lessons, making art pieces. This year held some of the happiest and saddest moments I’ve ever experienced.

Here are my moments of 2017, in no particular order…

#Graduating: I can imagine myself the very first day I set foot on campus, completely unaware of what was waiting for me. If only I could go back and tell myself to take the nearest exit and run as far away as possible, I would. My college years were bad, but my senior year was incredibly terrible. Anyways in February, I finally graduated. With decent grades. Hooray.

#Being an aunt: With a grateful heart, appreciation to my dear sisters for making little humans in their lady parts, I wish to announce that this December, I became an aunt to 3 beautiful babies…Liam, Nathan and Ella Nia.

#Worst moment: Nursing a heartbreak. During the first months of this year, I was nursing a terrible heartache and felt horrible because he made me feel so inadequate. I had no self-respect and I’d abandoned myself. I was defeated by my own self, by my lack of self-worth and my own inability to find myself. I was completely out of touch with who I was. But eventually, hearts heel. Thankfully, I emerged out strong and realized how dumb I’d been. Now, a butterfly is emerging from the cold, dark cocoon it’s been hiding in.

#Best Angela moment: Making my first art piece (from scratch). One of my best friends was getting married. But I was super broke, that I couldn’t afford to buy her a wedding gift. My escape plan was to make her a wedding gift myself. So, I googled for ideas and started working on it. Et voilà, I had the perfect gift for her. And then my journey as an artist began.

My first art piece

The latest art piece (pencil drawing)

My latest art piece

#Best event: Kler’s baby shower. What’s a great way to celebrate a mum-to-be? Oh yeah, you guessed it. So, as our close friend, we thought of throwing a small baby shower for her. Vicki was the organizer of the event and I was in charge of decoration. And together, we made this…

Kler very much liked it all. So, it was a success.

A week later, Kler asked me to help her decorate the nursery. And I made her these…

Wall hangings for the nursery

#Weird moment: Completing my thesis was a frustrating struggle, but I finally made it and graduated *claps hands for myself* Then later to my surprise, my supervisor asked for a copy of my thesis, to present in a conference on cancer in Africa (AORTIC conference). 
#Weird realization: After extensive research and consideration, I’m convinced that adulthood ain’t for me (I’m still mind blown that I’m an adult). I’m an arrested adolescent and I don’t have a care in the world. I believe I got into adulthood uneventfully, without notice and I’m still trying to figure out a way out of this.

#Thank you: Leopard has been besides me throughout this year, offering me a shoulder to cry on, always listening, even when tired. Without judging me. Leopard is genuinely concerned with the outcome of my life and I thank God for bringing Leopard into my life.

Leopard, this goes out to you. Thanks for being patient with me, for always putting up with me even when I was being a pain in the ass. And thanks for always being honest. I do really appreciate your time and tireless effort to make me smile. Thank you.

#Lessons of 2017

  • To always choose myself over anything and everything. 
  • What got me here is what will get me there. As long as I show up every day, I can make it. 

Happy 2018 y’all.

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2017

As we’re heading into the holidays, I can’t help it but scratch my head as to how 2017 has whizzed by. 2017 has been a year of change, for me. During the first month of 2017, I was still working on my thesis. Things didn’t turn out exactly the way I’d anticipated, thus completing the thesis was a frustrating struggle…I could imagine myself the very first day I set foot on campus, completely unaware of what was waiting for me. I thought that if only I could go back and tell myself to take the nearest exit and run as far away as possible, I would. But, I don’t want to make it seem as though my senior year was bad because it wasn’t. Rather, it was incredibly terrible! I now look back at those times and ask myself “How did I get through all that?” 

Within the second month of 2017, I walked out of a toxic relationship that I was in for 4 whole years! However, during the months that followed the breakup, sadness and anger permeated my life. The anger was manifested into healthy steps to rectify what was wrong. I slowly dug myself back out of the dark pit that I was in. And since we’d broke up I was able to see what was going on more clearly. I realized that sometimes people just do and say shitty things, but there’s nothing one can do about it. Except to leave them to do the lame shit that they do. And just walk away, which is the best thing I’ve did for myself. And since then, unimaginably good things have transpired in my life (can I hear an Amen?!) The unrequited love helped me so much on my journey of growth and self-discovery. Moving slowly, I became who I was before all the bullshit that dimmed my shine happened…I now love myself more and I have no scruple with protecting myself from those who don’t reciprocate the same (level of) love. And I’ve made a resolution to be as authentic about my feelings as I can be. So, I no longer care about what people think, as much as I thought I did. 

Also in February, I finally graduated. Well, I didn’t maintain As all 4 years of college. Neither did I land an awesome job nor did I find my one true love with whom I would start my forever after college. Hehe. However, I did graduate with decent grades.

Anyways…

Some of the lessons (the importanter ones) I’ve learned in 2017…

  • Some people will dislike you for no apparent reason. Yeah, just like that. Last year, when I was working on my dissertation I met this woman, the head of Pathology department at some institution. As the boss, I had to first go to her (for permission) to collect the data I needed for my thesis. But every single time that she saw me, she had an excuse (she was great at cooking excuses) to send me back. From this woman, I learnt the importance of plan B. I also learnt that things eventually work out. But, always have a plan B.
  • Nothing is ever that serious – getting dumped by the love of your life (or so you thought), having your thesis rejected, failing a course, getting fired – few years down the line, you’ll be wondering why you were so stressed out. It takes time to heal but at the end of the day, everything comes back to normal. Just chill. Everything works out in the end.
  • Life is not a race. Life is rather more like a marathon where some people started earlier, some have bigger lungs, some cheat and take shortcuts. Some even do not finish the marathon. Some take longer than others, but that does not mean that they failed. I may be a crab-walker but I am moving forward. Besides what awaits us all at the end is the great equalizer, death. So, no need to rush.
  • You’ll never have it all figured out. Never. Life will screw you over and over again. And life will constantly hand you lemons, so learn how to make lemonade.
  • Not to compare myself to others. In the puzzle of trying to find myself, I often find myself comparing myself to what others have achieved at my age. However, I’m always reminded that just like a flower does not think of competing with the flower next to it, but just blooms, I have to do my thing, at my own pace, but not because I feel pressured to.
  • Peace of mind is the best gift I can give myself. It is priceless. I don’t pressurize myself to do things that my mind isn’t comfortable with in the name of not being socially awkward. It is liberating not to be burdened by other people’s opinions of you.
  • To always choose myself over anything and everything. To be selfish with myself, my time, and my energy. 
  • To lower my expectations of others. The expectation of getting what we give in return, is where we fail in life. I’ve learned that people don’t disappoint, but rather our expectations of them.
  • What got me here is what will get me there. As long as I show up every day, I can make it. 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year y’all.

The pleasures of cooking your own food

This is really little, but it made my day. One Saturday I was traveling with my best friend to the countryside (for a friend’s wedding). As soon as I sat next to her on the bus, she quickly told me that I looked great, which put an enormous smile on my face. And recently, some people have been telling me that I’ve put on some weight, which makes me feel fantastic that it’s noticeable. Isn’t it wonderful how sometimes, the littlest things can touch you in the perfect way? Well, it’s just a thought, but to me an act of kindness is a gift to you, as well as the person you give it to.

However, months ago, it was the opposite. I knew it was bad when I would meet people I know and they would look at me shocked. Everyone asked me what was wrong because I was losing weight. I started to hate how I looked. I felt ugly. But I didn’t imagine that my relationship was the cause. Little did I know, it was a toxic relationship. My life was deteriorating. Toxic relationships can drain the life out of you and sometimes you don’t really see the damage until you force yourself out. Finally, the relationship ended and I had to find self-love all over again. Through nursing my heart to health, I googled articles on weight gain. All the answers seemed to be the same. Increasing calories intake. More calories meant EATING! Eating lots and lots. I had to force myself to eat more, and consistently. I began with taking breakfast, daily. I usually skipped breakfast, because:

One, most of the times I woke up really late and it would be lunch time. I also wasn’t into breakfast because I had no appetite in the morning. It meant forcing food down.

Two, because of waking up late, my mornings would be a mad dash getting ready for classes and by the time I would be ready, there would be no time left to sit and have breakfast. I would just be rushing out the door.

Anyways…

Two years later, I now take care of me on a regular basis. I no longer skip breakfast. I’ve learned to eat breakfast and it has helped me to build healthy eating habits. My goal is healthy eating (to put on some extra weight), and the best way to do so is to cook for myself as much as I can. 

Since childhood, I’m obsessed with great food. All of my favorite family memories involve food (in some way). My most cherished moments include mom cooking hearty meals for us during weekends. And, so my relationship with food has been a loving one. Today, as Mom is ageing, I’m learning to cook so I can take over that responsibility from her and still make good meals like her. 

Cooking is a craft and learning to cook is one of the essential human skills. My cooking skills are nowhere near as good as I want them to be, but with continuous practice I’ll be good in a few years to come. If I’m in a good mood (or not feeling lazy), and with ingredients and some time, I try to make food that’s tastier. Cooking challenges creativity and encourages to discover new dishes. I don’t always know what I’m going to cook, I just take what’s available and use it the tastiest way I can think of. I also look up recipes (what would I do without Google?), and cook them myself. Some I recreate successfully, some I don’t. I love it when I succeed at a dish and I’ll curse for hours when I fail but I still love it.

Cooking gives great pleasure and is rewarding. There’s something about feeding people. I am always delighted watching contentment spread across my folks’ faces when I prepare for them a delicious meal. I find it immensely satisfying watching my younger brother eat chapatis or a salad that I made. There’s a special feeling when they say the food I cooked was delicious. It is a huge motivator for me to keep spending time in the kitchen learning how to cook. It makes me feel good to give someone something tasty and enjoyable that I made. I love the process of creation. However, when laziness kicks in, then I have no interest in food if I have to make it myself. That’s when I don’t see cooking as a craft, but rather as a chore. And that’s when I’ll be in the kitchen without a clue about what to cook and wishing take-away food in our area was readily available or that we had a maid to cook whenever I’m not feeling particularly inspired. Because my creativity doesn’t go as far as cooking 3 meals a day, seven days a week. Nah, that isn’t my thing.

On the healthy eating part, I’ve realized that healthy eating means giving up basically everything that makes life worth living. And that’s not happening, even though I have no intention of addicting myself (since that would kill me). I ain’t refraining from eating grilled meat, or fries or cheese so that I can live to be 90 years. What matters to me is the delight I derive from ingesting something that I love and enjoy. Do I feel good after eating a burger and fries or a pizza? Yes. Do I feel good after eating some sausage? Yes. How about after eating fried chicken? Very much, because it’s very delicious. I am forever grateful for the animals that end up on our plates, the meat which satisfies the carnivore in me. 

It’s always good having a good meal. And what a pleasure when I have a good meal, followed by a bottle of cold beer!

Eat well, enjoy life, be happy.

Kizigenza

Kizigenza

They say that a picture is worth a thousand words. But this here, is worth a bajillion words. Fond memories. Happy memories.

This was taken in 2011, if I remember well. We were at a party, 11 d’or party. I guess it was a birthday party. I don’t remember, I was there just for the food (read meat) and drinks. There were lots of drinks and brochettes. 

Later in the night, while the others were jammed in the living room, dancing; I and Jaz sat there, watching some pull out wild moves and boogieing like nobody’s watching. It’s always entertaining to watch others dance. But my legs never itch to hit the dancefloor. I can tell you why I hate dancing. One, I’m an introvert and I avoid (and hate) socializing with strangers. And dancing involves socializing to some extent. Second, people who like dancing can be aggressive about it, and think that I need to be dragged onto the dance floor. They feel like they’ve won points if they bully me into dancing. Or they think I secretly want to dance but I’m too shy to start…so they feel the need to pressure me into it. The idea of a big party with dancing is horrible to me. 

Back to the photo…

People wanted to drag us onto the dancefloor, and no matter how many times we said no, they kept insisting. What’s wrong with people anyway? So, we needed a spot, maybe in the corner of the room, where we could sit and watch in peace, without being disturbed. As we were trying to find a spot, the guy (in the picture) stopped us and asked where we were going. As Jaz was busy explaining, I couldn’t help it but laugh, and baam…the photo was taken!

Anyways…

The year was 2006, when I first saw Jaz. I never knew that that day in Senior 4 when I heard her argue about The Matrix (the movie) and I said to myself “she must be a really interesting girl!” would be the beginning of our journey. And indeed she is an amazing girl. After completing highschool we met again in 2010, sharing the same room on campus hostels. 7 years later, we are best friends. I am so lucky that this crazy world brought us together.

So, today is Jaz’ birthday and I am dedicating this post to her…I’m writing  things that I love about her.

  1. Her weird vocabulary. Ni akasamutwe! Haha
  2. Her integrity.
  3. Her determination. She sets a goal and works hard to achieve it.
  4. Her funny stories.
  5. Her love.
  6. To others she might seem as a sober lady (yes, she is) but underneath is one of the most loving and caring person I have ever met.
  7. I can speak my heart out to her.
  8. Even if we’re not in touch for ages, I know that she’s there for me.
  9. She brings sunshine into my life.
  10. She knows how to pamper me.
  11. She understands me.
  12. I can count on her. Always.
  13. Each time I think of her, I smile.
  14. I can trust on her advice.
  15. She’s a reflection of me. Truly.
  16. She’s seen me at my worst and still stood by me.
  17. She has more faith in me than I do in myself (thank you for believing in me, always).
  18. She works hard for what she wants. 
  19. Her love for movies.
  20. She is very very smart.
  21. We can make fun of each other and never take offense. She laughs at me when I fall but it’s cool, because I always laugh at her when she falls too. 
  22. Even when she laughs at me, I still feel loved.
  23. She talks me through hard situations without fail. What would I do without her?
  24. She is an inspiration to me…she’s one of the strong women whom I look up to.
  25. She loves meat.
  26. She’s the sister I never had.

Dear Jaz,

Thank you for being such an amazing friend to me for the past 7 years. I’m so grateful and blessed to have you in my life. 

A very very happy birthday to you.

I love you, to the moon and further. And I terribly miss you.

No, I ain’t angry

The longer you go by yourself, the weirder you get; and the weirder you get, the longer you go by yourself

~ Jim Shepard

Sing it, Shepard! 🎶🎵
Why are you angry?


People have been asking me that a loooot. I’m inclined to start saying yes. It used to bug me when people asked me that. A woman asked me that when I was at the migration offices, to collect my passport; and then a migration officer asked me that at the migration offices, because I looked angry (well, I was just sitting minding my business). They even ask me that at the market while I’m doing some shopping. And did I mention how shopping puts me in all the right moods? I’m a shopaholic, I confess. Yet someone asks me that while I’m shopping!? 

I used to smile and explain that I am okay. “No, no, no, I’m not angry at all!” I am great even. But lately, I have gotten tired of trying to explain that I ain’t angry or even smiling so that people are okay with my face. I don’t mind looking angry or mad anymore. You see, I may be in the happiest mood, and my heart may be doing them crazy somersaults, but then my face be like that of a cold-hearted ruthless manslayer. Because, for reasons He hasn’t disclosed to me yet, God chose to give me this face, that looks like an angry face to everyone. It’s my face, get used to it. 

This summer, I did a self-examination. Though it was short-lived, the results showed that:

  1. I am funny (in texts) but shy in person. And quiet in nature.
  2. I am mature but not mature-mature.
  3. I am very lazy, but again, highly motivated.
  4. I am layered like an onion. I don’t even understand myself sometimes.

So, I am seen as a weird person (you can’t win with people). But I’m still the funniest person I know. My mind is always busy with fun things. Like, I’ll be thinking about helping the Winchester brothers fight off them supernatural creatures when I’m attacked by a random person asking why I am angry. You think I’m angry, right? Well, yeah, now I am. The question makes my heart swell. And nowadays, I’m terrified that one day I’m going to lose it and hurl a series of offensive statements, as I walk away…

Anyways…

I’ve come to accept this truth about myself. I find it tiring being too busy trying not to be weird, or pretending not to be. And I no longer mind how people see me. Wait…did I just say see me? So, people can (really) see me? Hehe. Well, I hope they see me as a very cool person. Okay, okay, they never seem to notice me. So, how would I know how they see me?

But anyways, what’s wrong with being a weirdo anyway? Nothing. Weirdness. I know a thing or two about being a weird person. Being weird is very OK. As long it’s the good kind of weird, a good weird that serves a purpose. Not the awful, creepy, grotesque kind of weird, as they are listed as the synonyms to the word weird. You see, by nature, I am a quiet person and an introvert. I don’t do small talk, and the idea of starting a conversation with a stranger completely paralyzes me. But since that’s what normal people do, being normal like everyone else scares the hell out of me. I spent years hating how socially awkward I am. I often questioned why on earth I was chosen to be like that. And I have tried my whole life to change that. But it seems that I am just a born weirdo. And no, I don’t hate people. I’m just against the usual rules of society. I like other ways of getting along with people. Ways that most people consider weird. Ways that have nothing to do with exchanging small talk with other people. Thus, I am weird.

I’m weird because I like being alone. I’m weird because I imagine a loooot. I’m weird because I can stay indoors the whole day, watching movies all by myself. I’m weird because I don’t like talking (to strangers). I usually walk wearing my earphones even when there’s nothing playing, just to avoid people talking to me. But sometimes, a person clearly sees that I’m wearing earphones and will still try to start a conversation? Really? What’s wrong with people anyway? I’m even weirder because I’m a funny yet quiet person. I have always been told that I should be more talkative with people.

That makes my blood boil! I’ll take weird over that any day. People don’t get it that if I’m leaving you alone it’s because either I don’t like you or I feel we are not connecting or you bore me or I know I’m going to bore you or I would rather be doing something else right now than talking to you. Instead, they be there, suggesting that I should be more talkative. And because I’m not, they label me as weird. And think that because I’m a quiet person, I am angry as well. Hehe. Apparently, I’m not supposed to be quiet and happy. How ironic! Well get it from me…I ain’t angry. I am happy. I am content with my life. 

I’m embracing my odd, outlandish, weird nature. 

The woman who wasn’t helpful

I’m late on this one but hey, better late than never…

The year was 2014. I was interning at RMH (Rwanda Military Hospital). We (the interns) are introduced to a bacterium, Helicobacter pylori, which infects almost half of the world’s population and is now considered to be the most prevalent infectious disease known to occur in humans. But I had never heard of it before. 

For as long as I could remember, my Dad had suffered from ulcers. So, I always wanted to do some research about gastric pathologies, though I didn’t know which in particular (cause I hadn’t quite understand his condition). And since there’s also a history of ulcers in the family, the bacterium caught my attention. When I finally learned about the bacterium, I talked to him about it. He told me some doctor had requested he get tested for it, and the result came out positive. The doctor then prescribed some antibiotics and that was it. I also realized that it had been years since I last saw him take his meds at night. I was relieved but still interested in the bacterium and learning more about it.

Fast forward to 2016, as a student in my final year, I had to present a research project before I graduated. From the very first time I’d heard of it, I knew that my dissertation was going to be about the bacterium. Hence, picking a research topic wasn’t hard because I’d already found one. I also was unhappy with what I saw on campus (precisely our department) as a growing number of theses were increasingly focusing on the same area, Parasitology (intestinal worms, to be precise). I wanted to do something different from everyone else’s. 

For data collection, ​I applied for permission to collect the data at this institution that I won’t name. Initially, I was told that it would take 3 weeks to get clearance to carry out my research study (after ethics committee reviewed my proposal). After 3 weeks, I was told to wait another 3 weeks. 3 more weeks later, still there was no response. Carrying out a research study demands lots and lots of patience. I finally got clearance after a delay of 4 months (yeah, I’m very patient). You should have seen me exiting the office with the clearance letter.

I immediately went to the pathology department to present the clearance letter. The head of the lab, a woman who wasn’t helpful at all, suggested I come back the following Monday. The following Monday I was there, very early, with my lab coat and PC, very ready to begin my study. But she bounced me back. And for weeks, instead of helping me get what I wanted she kept giving me excuses…“This week is accreditation week, come back next Monday”, “We are very busy right now, come back next Monday”, one Monday morning while walking to her office she saw me sitting in the waiting room and immediately said to me “Not today, come back next Monday”. The world is full of excuses not to help someone (if you are interested), and she was excellent at finding them. 

So, I was hammered with endless and pathetic excuses, but I wasn’t going to give up. Everytime she saw me enter her office, I swear she wanted to punch a hole in her desk. Hehe. I couldn’t understand why she kept tossing me around like a tennis ball. She’d asked for a confidentiality agreement and I’d written, signed and handed it over to her. I had a recommendation letter from my supervisor, a doctor (*and knows with confidentiality). Besides that, I’d clearance from the institution’s ethics committee. What else did she want? Blood of a virgin?! Or did I look like someone coming straight from a deep & isolated village with no Biomedical background at all?! Or maybe I seemed lousy to her, like I’d no notion of medical ethics. Like I would hold a meeting to discuss the data (read: patient records) with all my neighbors. Hehe. 

Or maybe it seemed to her like she would be giving me the country’s top secret files or nuclear weapons launch codes. Haha. We are also bound by medical ethics, mama! I thought that with the clearance, she had no choice but to give me the data. But I was wrong.

After 4 extra months of more excuses and kissing ass, I was running out of time. My supervisor was constantly calling asking for my draft. It was clear to me that I wasn’t going to get the data to complete my thesis. I had no choice but to change the topic and go for another. A much simpler and easier one, since time was catching up with me. I was very discouraged. On a positive note though, I graduated and with decent grades.

Moral of the story: At some point you’ll encounter sadistic mean people. Have the wisdom to know when to fight and when to take a flight. 

…in a season of epic brokenness

Have you ever had a dream that was so real you almost believed it? I have. My dream captured a problem that I’m facing now. Brokenness. It was a nice dream, because it provided a hopeful solution: MONEY. I was probably coming from the bank, lost in thoughts about my shopping list (remember those times of epic brokenness). Then I glimpsed in my purse and gasped: Holy shit! I saw money in my purse. A closer look revealed 23 notes (of 5000Rwf) and a 100$ note. Hurray! What was I going to do? I could get on a bus and head to town to buy a few things. Or maybe I could go to the saloon for a hair retouch. Yeah, right. But I had not called my hairdresser to schedule an appointment. So, I made an alternative decision. Since the money wasn’t going anywhere (or so I told myself), I decided to go home, reorganize my shopping list sorting out my top priority needs, and come the next day, ready for shopping! Shopping puts me in all the right moods. 

When I got home, I realized that I had no airtime…I went for my purse and guess what?! There was no purse. No purse, no money. The. Money. Was. Gone! Gone, baby, gone! But hoooow? What kind of voodoo magic was that?

As I was trying to figure out what had happened, I awoke. I’d dreamt of a thing I had wanted in a long time, but now it was all gone. It was like a cruel trick waking up and realizing that it was all FAKE! Frustrated, I went back to sleep, patiently waiting for another dream. One with greater illuminative powers, like pointing me to where I’d lost the purse. No luck.

How often do you have cruel dreams like this? Like that guy you like, asks you out. Or the girl you’ve been hitting on for months, finally gives you a chance. Or your boss gives you a raise, after that good presentation you did. Or your scholarship application has been accepted. The list can go on and on. But then, it’s just a dream!

These days, money is the only thing on my mind. My mind keeps screaming “I should be rich!”

And as much as I would like to think of myself, I’m not self-independent. At least not financially. You know, it’s embarrassing that I still have to ask for money from my parents. Or borrow some money (from time to time) from my best friend (thank you Vicki) to complete my art projects. This is a boring life, I know. Being broke is cruel. Not being able to buy that dress or handbag that you saw in a boutique and liked, is also cruel. It makes me want to reply “Not looking at the price tag while shopping” whenever people ask me the “where do you see yourself in X years.” Spending a month without kissing a beer bottle or tasting some brochettes is super cruel, it’s torturing. Not exploring your dreams is a nightmarish way to live. 

I’m so sick of looking in my purse and not seeing money. I’m sick of waking up and not finding money in my bank account.

I should be rich.

But I don’t really know how to be rich. I do picture myself as a rich woman, but I don’t know how to get there. I have pictured myself having an art career, making lots of drawings and art pieces, and owning an art gallery. And making lots of money out of it. But I don’t know how to get there because now it seems like I’m stuck on this level, and I don’t know how to unlock the next level. Well, I sometimes do get sudden outbursts of motivation to go and make my life better. But then after 5 mins, I’m like “Nah, that’s not happening!” Yeah, because I’m an adult now. I don’t run from my problems, I just sit and ignore them like other adults do. Speaking of which, after much research, experimentation and consideration, I have decided that adulthood isn’t for me. Thank you for the opportunity, though. 

I’m still learning how to journey these untraveled roads that I never asked to be tossed onto.

But I really should be rich.