I sat scrolling through my Facebook and allowing my Instagram stories feed to play itself as I nurse my baby. I's thansgiving day here in the US. Dinner tables all over America in homes of people some of whom I know very well and others I barely know. Staged for perfect shots, full from end to end with scrumptious-looking comfort food and surrounded by those eagerly awaiting to crowd their plates with it. Fun and laughter in the backgrounds. "I am thankful for" and "happy thanksgiving" posted everywhere, folks listing all the great things and people that's happened to them. Kitchens, living rooms an dining rooms bubbling with family and friends. I could not shake off the feeling of wanting t


Just like that. It's been over three months since I logged into my website. Over three months since I wrote anything, responded to any messages, created. My creativity was forced into a corner in the chatter of my mind, giving room to everything and everyone that needed something for me. Grieving for itself. At first given permission to be paused while I tackled life, later replaced by a feeling of defeat. Today, after contemplating to attempt making peace with it, I reluctantly approached it's corner. Imagine going into an abandoned house with spider-webbed and dusty furniture. One that once pulsated with life but no longer had a beat. One that needed resuscitating. I reluctantly picked up

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