Twenty Twenty One's Dying Days

The year is folding her last days and I am yet to believe that I somehow made it past her dark ones. I had zero urge to fight the then resurrecting demons so her dawn found me cursing in a cowardly manner.

To be very honest, I secretly desired to be laid to rest a couple of times but as a protective mother dealing with abandonment issues, my love for my brood gladly sucked my guts dry.

_{by Aaditya_Bhat.}

Her initial days spent their long hours persuading my scattered fragments to find each other and regroup here. None wanted to hear any of this. The unmanned pain dug up adequate shallow graves to revolutionise the bleeding anarchy that was within me.

My eyes hated the sun but oftentimes begged the moon to stay.

This was due to the shade of the night feeling right for my brokenness. Its concealed face allowed mine to leave the salty streams open to flood my burning cheeks all the while providing enough disguise for any concerned party.

So I have ridden many of her fading days like pirates would wild seas. I have fallen and risen again and again. I have risked my skin due to my inability to control my raging emotions only to have my legs save it at the last minute.

Let who has made more stupid financial decisions come for this throne.

After sinking into chaos as early as the first of January, I lost a huge deal of contracts. My focusing level was in its minus and my dwindling clients -thanks to the pandemic- were rightfully getting impatient.

This suffocated our spending rituals and fundamental needs were now becoming an issue. For months, I couldn't see myself past waking up and just existing. I was numb and thus unproductive. My creative juices were dried up by the flowing in crippling pain and to be quite honest, a bit of shame.

I couldn't stop asking myself what I was thinking while getting myself so lost in the first place. I couldn't forgive myself for falling and it felt like I deserved whatever pain I was getting for following my triggered heart.

My wallet gave in to wrinkles of my constant raids and unsteady refills. But I still scored a few solid deals. Those helped me with my recent move and a few other key responsibilities I had to get done.

Regardless of it all...

I still managed to lose a couple of hundred dollars after the death of my old man. I intended to farm fungi, some lambs for mutton and a variety of vegetables on a piece of land left in my care by my grandpa but my uncle has some other unproductive ideas. The problem is he hadn't bothered to mention them until I was knee-deep in my balances.

This was the second time my relatives were doing so while I sat by the losing end. It had happened again in the dying days of 2020.

It awakened my inner critic.

And there is a shift in everything now. A positive one. I might find myself wading through the murky waters of my unpredictable emotions anyhow until grief decays but my finances are now getting satisfactory. After a season of self-sabotaging money related mannerisms, the fear of losing total control has me steadily in supervision now.

It is safe to say that better is coming.

_{wambuku w.}