We bonded over little things, little things like the color of the sky when the sun sets, the shapes of clouds during the day, perfectly arched brows, chests hairs and the look of a brightly lit city at night. We bonded over things that wouldn’t make much sense to anybody else. We bonded over Zayn Malik’s and Taylor Swift’s ‘pillow talk’ blasting out from his super loud car speakers, “it’s our paradise and it’s a war zone. Paradise, paradise. War zone, war zone… ” We sang along not mincing or mixing words. And although his voice wasn’t perfect, he sang anyway. 

      He was not perfect but i liked him alright. 


Synonymous to Christmas in Nigeria is harmathan and God knows, i hate it except for the fact that i get to wash a cloth by 9:30pm and I’ll be sure that before 12 midnight, it’s ready. Lol don’t you all do it? 

Right. So… I’ve been asked why i don’t watch Game of Thrones. And my answer was that i haven’t seen it anywhere to watch it. But is that really true? I’ve recently come to the conclusion that I’m more of a social media person than movie or book person. I spend a lot of time on my SM apps esp instagram just scrolling and sometimes stalking. In those very careless moments i run into many posts that keep me in reverie either negatively or positively. Therapeutically, i apply catharsis by going in search of those pages that stimulates positive interests, incites the hunger to always make something out of oneself. And so in this post, I’ll be sharing my top five instagram pages that help me to put a leash on this head of mine. 

1) @sylviaugoma: Yep i always check my profile. Always. I check on insights to know how many people that visit my profile, my blog and what have you. It’s a way i measure social growth. And if i haven’t reached a certain target, i know what to do about it, just incase I’ve spent more time stalking than selling. Also, i indulge in sharing bits of my blog post, personal pictures and quotes made by me which are designed using canva or quote apps. So, I’m worth the follow. Thank you very much. That is why you see my picture right on top. ☺ ☺ ☺ lol.

2) @the_ugonna : a fellow blogger and in one of her most frequently used words, ‘Swid gal’. Story telling is her major and she does wonderfully in that area. Effortlessly, she knits words into one another and mehnnnn, that’s it for me o.  Her drive for perfection and creativity is what moves me and definitely it’s a pick up for me.  Also, she’s one of the very few girls i know in the city of owerri who has a striking balance between religious and social life. 

3)@the_nerdy_artist : i discovered her last year when i started blogging and gosh, just like that o, she got me. She blogs about lifestyle and is the director of programs at gitgirl, a group of tech women. So, for y’all ‘technologically’ crazy women out there, you should really follow up and get engaged. I’ve followed her all through 2017 right to this moment. I love her because as simple and not too fashionable as she is, she’s done things for herself against all odds. The real slay queen, you may call her. 

4)@desiringgod: it beats me that whenever i see posts from this page, i don’t get to see any of the people I know liking their posts just like i always see a lot of people i know commenting on and liking krakstv posts. Even if i don’t ‘like’, i screenshot so that’s why you see alot of their posts in my screenshot. If you get the chance to handle my phone, that is. So, i decided to add this to my list not for any other reason but for you to know that Jesus is a very essential part of my life and that every good thing found in me is his doing. This page on a daily feeds me with quotes by John Piper and a whole lot of other writers that i may not know. The days that i forget to study the Bible, this page comes in handy as I’m always online Instagraming my life away. So, once everyday i am being reminded that each and every one of us has a purpose on this earth which includes worshipping God in spirit and truth, that when life throws us into panic, God is always there whispering his love and peace into our souls. This page acts as a guard over my life whenever i forget that i have a calling. Actually, we all do so this page is every inch worth the follow. Gimme a shout-out on their posts if you love it.

5) @okadabooks : For all writers, this page links you to a site where you can share your stories and make money out of it and also read amazing books online. Their daily posts are aimed at increasing interaction between themselves and their audience, growth on the part of the audience and jokes to make sure you don’t overheat. Lol. All work and no play makes Sylvia Ugoma a dull girl. 

Currently reading Chasing the Avatar by Jovan Jones and still pretending that i don’t hear my law books crying out to me to show them small love. It’s just a crazy world. What would you like to see a blog post on and what do you think about my curated list of top five instagram pages that are interestingly motivational? 


“Two days after the proposal, she found at her doorstep, written in a messy handwriting, ‘DO NOT MARRY HIM!” 


The mornings these days had Laura gazing absent mindedly from her apartment window at nothing in particular. Every now and then, her subconscious mind came dancing around the mahogany tree which seemed to have been an object of both attraction and distraction for her in recent past. It was Autumn and as usual, the tree shed its deciduous leaves again. Laura watched carefully as particular leaves became detached from their buds and floated slowly downwards, landing first, on its apex just like ballerinas and then let its body down slowly.  And even though she knew she was supposed to be getting ready for an interview at Daily Dose talk show that morning, she preferred to carry on with her little ritual which obviously was more of a guilty pleasure than hobby. She did this clad in a scanty dress that was just a pair of panties and white polo with a cup of hot steaming coffee in her hand. Whatever it was, it gave her some sort of energy to face her world.She was only but a broken woman who was slowly gathering the pieces of her heart. 

The giant mahogany tree stood gigantically outside her home. Under that tree, she had met the love of her life, the one who, all over the whole world would prefer her to anyone else, the one whose feet she cowered and trembled just at the touch of his hand. He was all shades of titillation. He was a hunk. He was everything, everything. He was the man! Interestingly and unforgettably, out there in the moonlight on a cool spring evening, she had made love to him right under that tree, unabashed.He had said to her that very day, “you’re the definition of God’s perfect plan for me and I never wanna wake up any day and realize that I’ve lost that gift”. He was unassuming and his words were reassuring. Love danced merrily above them and her heart thumped greatly that she feared it was going to rip her chest and jump out of it. Overtaken by emotions, the least thing they both cared about was the rest of the world. With her back against the tree, she gave herself willingly to Tim. That very day, Tim had asked her to marry him and she had accepted. She sighed at the thought. “well… “ was all she said and shrugged.

A few hours later was Laura behind the camera smiling as hard as she could in Daily Dose talk show, answering every question carefully and diligently. The news was everywhere, “famous writer and speaker dumped by husband”. Media houses all wanted one thing, the truth. And the truth they were gonna get, this once and for all. 

“Laura, it is wonderful having such a lovely soul as yours in our world given the days and times we’ve found ourselves in. Our stories can never be complete without you in it”, the host says, taking her time and observing when to plunge into the question that has been on everybody’s mind. 

“oh”, Laura smiles and flicks her hand in the air as if to imply that she’s used to commentaries like such. “it’s fine. What do you do with a lamp when you’ve got one? You light it up and let the whole world see”.

“One more question ,before we call it a wrap… “

Laura cuts in immediately, “you see… thing is, I know how these things work. And I trust you know my kind of person. I don’t like to hide. I granted this interview today because… “ pause. “because, the truth is… .” another pause. By then tears fought tooth and nail to trickle down but she vowed to remain Laura, the smart, beautiful and strong woman. But she failed. “I can’t do this anymore”. To everyone’s surprise and even to Laura, she threw herself helplessly on the host and cried uncontrollably. Even though, the director had motioned for a stop in filming, the photographers still, were at work making sure to capture every moment.


      The sound of gunshots and wails of people had woken us up. It was our cue to move to the next town. Mom quickly strapped Emeka on her back while trying to balance what was left of our things  on her head. Dad yelled at me to make sure I do not let go of Nkechi, my kid sister. The war had reduced every regular family like ours to this. As we left, i wondered what would be the fate of Nnanna and Oluchi. They were the kids of the other family that shared the same space with us.  I wondered if I’d ever get to see them someday, if they’d survive the war. I wondered if we’d even be lucky. 
We arrived in Ihiala from Owerri a few days later. Emeka had developed a fever on our way.  He was born the very first day the war broke out, on the 6th day of July, 1967. Oh, how i remember that day with mixed feelings. While we celebrated his birth, the first shots were fired and the casualties were recorded. Mother named him Emeka, after the Biafran warlord, Emeka Odumegwu Ojukwu, one of the bravest men in his day.  It’s been almost two and the half years already, and it felt as though the war wasn’t ever going to end. From the discussions father had with other grown ups, our troops were not doing so well. Emeka’s fever wasn’t getting any better. He developed big tummy. Father felt that it was normal.  Almost every child a had big stomach. It was like malnutrition was in the air and everybody inhaled it. We turned to the hunting of lizards and bush rats for our source of protein since the milk and other sources of protein weren’t coming in anymore. Mother had to go to the refugee camp to get help but each time, she came back dejected with little or nothing. Sometimes, the planes that carried items especially feeding items were either hijacked by Nigerian soldiers or didn’t land at all for fear of being caught. The ones that landed safely had to do so at night as quietly as possible and without lights. Father tried getting us a room with some of the valuable goods his boss Mr. Anderson had left him before travelling back to the United Kingdom. “No matter how bad things are, I can’t stand seeing my family live in a refugee camp”. Father would always say. He was a proud man that loved his family. The war had only made it harder for him. So, just like every other parent, he sometimes took out his anger on mother, Nkechi or me. On getting to Ihiala, he warned me about making friends. He would later tell years after the war why he did that. We moved into the one room space. Mother was quite worried about Emeka. His fever wasn’t getting better. It wasn’t the first time Emeka had developed a fever. He normally got better after mum must have given him the tablet that had been distributed at the health center. But this time, Emeka kept getting worse after taking the drugs. She hadn’t been much of a talker. With Emeka’s deteriorating health, she became more withdrawn. Father assured her that his health would eventually get better. 
True to his words, Emeka got better within days. Soon after,  Emeka was back to being the little gleeful soul that he was — himself . The violence did not affect his mind. I guess this was common with every infant. He sometimes helped us remember that life hadn’t always been about wars, bloodshed, and migrating. “Maybe we’d finally have our life back”,  I’d always wonder anytime Emeka’s soft laughter filled the room. 

      Ihiala had been peaceful since we arrived some five weeks ago. Some claimed that the town had been hit severally in the past months. According to them, the enemy forces probably felt that there was nothing left there. While others were of the opinion that the war would be ending soon. Deep down, everybody hoped that the latter was the right one. We had all gotten tired of the war. The shouts and tears of joy that followed the announcement that the war was over was like music to my ears. Our forces had decided to lay down their weapons. I was happy.  Even mother who had been stiffened by the war had done her special dance. Even though we didn’t have any iota of idea what was left of our hometown, the fact that we survived the war was enough reason to be elated. 

     The next day, Friday, a shrill voice was heard wailing. The voice belonged to a female. It woke us all up. I instinctively grabbed Nkechi. My joy was short lived,  the soldiers were here, was my thought. But even more worse, Mother’s cries were for something else — Emeka had stopped breathing. He was dead. My brother, a proper child of the war had gone with the war.


“heaps of human gabbages littered all over — in the streets…” (unknown) 

An amazing shoot by the very detailed photographer, Maleke for the visit to the Ogbunike caves. This, right here depicts a happy generation that could be happier if only we would do the right thing in 2019. A friendly reminder 👉 please vote for the right persons. 

Thanks for visiting. Did you enjoy this piece?


Once upon a time, a baby was born into the family of two beautiful and healthy parents but tragedy struck, the baby wasn’t ‘normal’. The doctor said to the couple, “your baby has a disease called marfonoid-progeroid-lipodystrophy syndrome. She will not be able to do anything on her own. And this will prevent weight gain and retard growth”. Sad and depressing but this couple went home and was determined to raise their daughter with love, to teach her that she is just a normal kid who’s smaller than the other kids in school, tell her that she can be whoever she wants to be no matter what. Years later, that baby grew to become Elizabeth Anne Velasquez, the motivational speaker and writer, a woman who was once called The Ugliest Woman in the World on the internet, a post which amassed over a thousand likes and comments, hateful comments like, “Lizzie, do us a favor and put a gun to your head… “, comments from people you know nothing about and have never done nothing wrong to. 


Four year old Winnie Chantel Harlow was diagnosed with a disease called vitiligo – a disorder that causes white patches of skin to appear on different parts of the body. Growing up was anything but gleeful. Kids called her names she didn’t deserve and made fun of her severally. “i don’t think my skin condition affected my self-esteem as much as the people around me affected my self esteem”, says Winnie. Years after, who’s Winnie now? A super model and a spokesperson for the skin disorder – vitiligo. 

All my life, i have been this very healthy young girl who is almost never satisfied with her life, sometimes staring at the mirror for long wondering why i have certain features that are not even a problem, cursing and sulking and vexing, not knowing what it means to be like Lizzie or Winnie. I’ve learnt to be grateful, guys, after a careful reading of both women. Their stories are stories of bravery and of courage, of boldness and of fearlessness. These women have redefined the world’s standards of beauty by not letting situations, people, diseases or environment define who they are. They made use of all the negativities surrounding their lives to work on themselves endlessly to have achieved a resplendent image of themselves. They’ve been able to instill that negativities are the driving force to your success, that they are your ladder to greatness and that the only thing that should define you is who you truly are, what you believe in and everything you stand for. 

If anything, i hope that this story changes your perception about beauty, reduces your proclivity of giving up on yourself and encourages you to keep living, dreaming and working hard. 

“in Judas and the Pilate and Herod and the crowd and the gentile soldiers and our sin and Jesus’s lamb like submission, God himself handed over his son. Nothing greater or harder has ever happened. Or ever will.”– John Piper.



Just before you run off or roll your eyes and blurt out,  “again” in that fed up manner you do when you see things that have been virtually on repeat and all up in your face every where you turn to, i want to assure that this is not a feminist talk. Now, do i have your attention? Yes, i do. Thanks for your chill. This featured image is for us to have in mind as we read, what is expected of us to do as women to forster growth in all ramifications. 

        Some weeks ago, while i had lunch with a friend at a restaurant, we discussed about women in general. He told a story of how his colleague contested against a lady for the position of the NBA Secretary  Owerri branch. Out of at least 80% of the lawyers in attendance, the lady got a maximum of 10% of the entire votes cast. Were there less women in attendance or did they not believe in the female contestant? I ranted about how women were head activists in feminism but they could never get it right. To me, even if the lady was bound to fail, the female lawyers could have at least helped her to fail honorably. Two weeks after this discussion, i found myself picking a man in place of a lady for the post of course representative. The ladies later declared their interests in just ‘assistant’. I felt ashamed for my dear self and my fellow women. 

, “why do women not vote for fellow women in an election? “

Solving this ‘mystery’ to the best of my knowledge, women are just too sacred. They’d rather stick with being an assistant than being at the peak of governance. That is why they are not deemed fit for governance. Women are considered as a set of people who are driven by their emotions rather than sense. 

Another salient reason is that, women ‘love’ power. Love in quote because they do not actually love it in the sense that they are passionate about it. Here’s the thing, a woman would like to go for a position not because she’s basically interested in it but because she believes she’ll do better than the men who have occupied that position. Women are daring. They want to try out things. Only but a few women whom have assumed the role of leaders achieve this goal. Because they want to be seen as ‘capable and able’,  they slip into many manly roles as easily as we slip into our night dresses just to be identified as capable. 

In my last days in secondary school, the new administration was made up of just women. A lot of female teachers did a lot of boot licking so they could find favor in their sights. The rest of the teachers particularly the men were embittered. You know why? When you give women power, they tend to abuse it, misuse it and use it as a means to, if possible, get the men to always show obeisance even if it meant worshipping the ground upon which they walk. 

This is an honest observation of a young girl not necessarily seeking to correct some ills but to point out a part of our feminine selves that should be checked and questioned. In your own opinion, why do you think women do not vote for fellow women in an election? 


In my opinion, i wouldn’t say I’m a perfectionist, one who looks for loopholes, tiny cracks, broken figures, incomplete parts of something. I may try to but i become sick of it and say, “i cannot coman kill myself”. But still, i get ripples on my skin, tiny cute goosebumps, chills down my spine, focused attention whenever i see or hear something truly amazing, the work of another, the magic created by another. Currently, I’m re-reading CNA’s book Americanah which i bought myself as a gift for my 19th birthday last year and Damnnnn! What a miracle! Even with the lines I’ve mastered from the book, i can still feel my heart reaching out to Obinze when Ifemelu stopped taking his calls and replying his letters, i can almost imagine Ifemelu as broke as she was allow the dirty old man caress her just because she needed money, i can imagine aunty Uju, a once mistress of a rich Nigerian politician, become an imagination of which will never happen anyways.I can imagine Ifemelu’s father’s ego deflate completely when he was fired from work simply because he refused to call his new boss ‘mummy’. Every line i skip, i have this gravest urge to go back to it but time is of the essence, especially now that college is about to resume. 

Recently, i watched this movie, I’m not sure what the title is but you can check between High Strung and String and Dance. It is an old movie btw. Guys, i was enthralled by the epic performance of the last group, the strings, the dance, the tall, dark and handsome guy with a perfectly built body  swinging his body generously to the rhythm of the song, ah! It was everything! 

My point»»» magic! I can tell that when you see something or hear something you like, that’s pleasant to your ears and eyes, you stay glued to it. There’s no stopping you until it is done. You see, that’s magic. I want to be able to elicit the same feelings i get from other people’s magic, i want to be able to spur emotions, not just appealing, i want to create magic in the things i write, the things I say and the things i do. And unlike Ryan Pierce, a character in the movie Girls’ Trip, i do not have it all. Yet. But i will, only that i am not seeking perfection. Why? Because imperfections keep us alive, help to push…(dope and really inspiring line from the first movie i mentioned earlier). And i bet you want to do the same. 

How do we get there guys? Here, lemme help with some tips and you might as well drop one or two in the comments when you’re done reading, let’s enlarge the community of magic makers: perseverance, hard work, sportsmanship and lastly and most importantly, passion. 

Do have yourselves a very good evening guys. See you next time, bye!


 I was told that laughing more often will lead to a longer life span and that those that laughed often are actually a lot more happier than they seem. Studies show that…. Heheheee, gotcha! 

Currently, I’m listening to ” I’ll be there ” by Jess Glynn sent by my best friend to me. The girl could be unassuming and assertive when she wants to be (big grin. I’ll definitely send her this link so she can see herself). Oh and btw, you should listen to it, i think it’s cool. It’s on repeat at the moment. 

So, I’m striking friendship chords tonight. My intention is not to be rancid but to stir facts that has settled beneath every friendship, relationship or union, just like dirt settles at the bottom of a container. Friendships are built with love upon love, OK and love fades away. OK? Has the chord struck yet? Yes? No? Wait for it. 

I’ve realized that you make friends according to your state of existence at any moment in life, and then you move out or change location or level up or something, then it starts slowly. Communication drops from a hundred percent to seventy. And before you know it, there’s zero communication. 

Sometimes, certain people may be on your mind occasionally. You see them on social media and then hitting the like button on their posts becomes like a job for you. Why? Because you let your friendship down, because you don’t just want to like the post and move on. You want to do something more than that. You’ll be like, “oh I’ll holler at him later”. But you never actually do. Even when they find you first on whatsapp, you do not open their messages because you delayed in reaching out first. 

I’m scared of breaking communications, of distance, time and space, of awkwardness of reunions, of agony of wanting to reach out but do not know how, of littering hearts all over the place, of not being sure of what i want at the moment, of having to feel i used someone as an emotional dump site, just like Jay Shetty said, of compartmentalizing a person into a folder that we can delete when we have no more need for it. I’m scared of having to be irate when i want to explain why I’ve been so cold over your screaming that you are right and I’m not.  I’m sacred of arguments when i know I’m at fault. Most of all, I’m scared of apologizing and being apologized to because it’s mostly never coming from within. It’s just said to ease things off. Lastly, I’m scared of broken bonds. 

 Somehow, i know I’m not always alone in my thoughts. If you have similar fears too, please share in the comments. I want to feel safe and good. 


 “Hi, my name is Sylvia Mba. I’m a young adult and i just turned twenty”. Dang! I love the sound of that. I know a lot of people will say “you think being an adult is easy?” or “you will soon get tired of being an adult”. Lol i know. But what would you rather? Be a sixteen year old who never grows or manning up and be the goddamn adult you’re supposee to be? Choose your pick. Even if the former was really an option in this life, i could never choose that. You know why? Because i want to grow, physically(very important), mentally, spiritually and otherwise. I want to grow because there are positions waiting for me to assume, there are dreams and goals set only for adulthood. You guys, i want to get married and have kids(another palava you may say) and i can’t do all these by being a kid. So… Leave me to my excitement, mbok(please). 

     A little rewind to the year 2017, i was nineteen. Whatever happened in that year, it formed me,  got me ready for life, for adulthood,for twenty. I was gracefully broken but i was healed. Turning twenty is not even a thing of shakara. It’s the beginning of a  harder life, more thinking, ya know, you have to think of academics, marriage(i think I’ve officially entered into the phase of, “ihu di ga luru” or “if you see husband, you marry”), how to enlarge your coast and stuff like that. It’s sad to say that at twenty, a lot of people still haven’t had their lives figured out yet. But if you’re not the lazy type, i want you to know that this is God’s plan. He’s working on it. Hang in there a little while. 

      September the 1st was great. Even my keypad knows that, lol. It was beyond my imagination. I had woken up by 2am,not feeling so happy. I recalled my ninetenth birthday which was spent in bed all day. I didn’t do anything to try and make myself happy. So fast-forward ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ later in the morning, i woke up seeing my face everywhere. People wrote a lot of good stuff about me. Someone whom I’ve had no serious conversation with and admire from a distance puts up my picture to wish me well and I’m like, “sayyyyy whaaaaaat???!!!” It meant a lot to me, you guys. My three best friends surprised me. One gave me a free face beat(plus her mood. I was literally praying to God to keep her in a good mood. She’s quite a case, lol) , another sewed this very lovely dress for me. Fam, i wished for new dresses for my photoshoot but as time went by, my account was being drained slowly so i scratched the idea. But here i was stunning in a new dress made with love  by my best friend 

and and another ordered a cake for me

Both cakes were baked and designed by my elder sister whose works are mind blowing and maaaaaadddddd!!!! For the first time in forever, i got to celebrate with two cakes. My elder sisters allowed me to use some of their things to shine for the world. My friends reached out to me and supported me financially even when i did not directly ask.  I have to admit, i was a broke ass towards my birthday. I was scared that I’d fall a lot of hands(disappoint) after all the hype about my twentieth birthday. Now, this is where I’ll talk about peace of God. My hopes of getting finance before my birthday was dashed. And even if I’d felt this crazy urge to just scratch all the plans(after all, i didn’t have much), i still was calm on the outside and somehow on the inside too. God kept this plan because he wanted to keep me happy and i really am grateful. You can’t get this peace if you do not know Him. 

    So, here’s something i did purposely. All i wanted was a perfect September the 1st 2018 but i was scared to be unhappy. So, i shifted my party(i really wanted to have a party) to 2nd and left 1st open for any wonderful thing that wanted to happen. The rains took my afternoon and left me with few hours of the evening. You want to know what happened that evening? I got a gift of a pack of pure bliss wafers. Lol. Yeah it seems like nothing but the purpose behind it was heart warming(i love pure bliss wafers and i may not say it often but i eat it often, so the giver was observant and it meant a lot that someone pays attention to very little details about me). My party may not have been all i hoped for it to be because as usual, the ladies were all busy with the people they knew and every now and then, cooperation between the MC and the audience was lost(i left for the convenience just to cool off incase my anger became unbearable and i let out all the roast I’ve been keeping in and again  God was there whispering peace to me) but i had fun laughing(very very important), dancing and listening to all nice things my friends said about me when they were asked to say what they hated about me(this was the plan of my two evil friends, lol, but they were put to shame). 

    I had imagined this year’s birthday right from February. I had very big plans, bigger than my account could carry(i was still rich then, it was easier for me to imagine). As the day drew closer, i lost faith in having a wonderful birthday but God who sees the heart of man and all that is contained therein raised helpers from nowhere in particular just so i could enjoy my day. Am i not loved, guys? I sincerely pray and wish and hope that God keeps everyone happy. It may not be possible always but the times you need to be most. Guys, my twentieth birthday was all i wanted and more. The love was real and much( sniffs and wipes eyes). I just want to say thanks for making feel relevant and loved, everyone who had a hand in this(to my guests too). And thanks for staying with me to end of this article. 

    As always, i want to know what you thought about this, if i was too foolish to dream bigger than the money in my account, if you thought my friends are all angels and if you thought there were some missing piece. Ya know, just anything you thought. Kilzilzzzzz(in Fal’s voice) 


     In recent times, I’ve found it difficult to be able to give my life a definition, spell out what i do and what i don’t, tell what my favorite things are in the world. I don’t know if it’s school work, or nonchalant attitude or growth or change or just what. Today, i was asked what my favorite color is and truth be told, i have no best color. Not that i didn’t know. 

     I used to love red and black, i mean, they were my favorite colors in the world. I used to love reading just about anything except school books but school books are all i read now. I used to enjoy writing a lot but i barely write enough these days. That explains the inconsistency of this blog and for that, I really am sorry. 

    Guys, I’m transitioning from what i used to be, know, love to things that i barely understand. I feel it’s weird. It’s stressing and depressing to think of. It’s everything weakening.  I’ve done a lot of talking and encouraging in the past but sometimes, i can’t fix in my own words into my situation. Maybe it’s time for you to help me. 

     Do you think I’m changing or do you just think it’s part of adulthood(oh and btw, I’ll be twenty on Saturday. Wish me luck)? Do you think I’m a professional over thinker or something actually is wrong? Or just what do you think? 


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