April is unremarkably my favored month, which makes it my happiest. Partly because my birthday falls there and partly because I have set my mind to it. Now that we’re only three months through 2018, my choices are kind of circumscribed but I’ll try.

So let’s see. January? My friends and I got weaved with a thing (let’s just call it that as i look for a better word) and so far it has been successful despite having to pinch pennies. Buuut! It’s also the month somebody stole my back pack which had my valuables thinking I was carrying a laptop, so it was a good one but definitely not the best.

February. Can’t recall any tragic incident but coupla school stuff was sort of hanging on my neck with so much pressure. Had a weekend off with my classmates which was epic but it wouldn’t necessarily make it to my happiest because of a good weekend. Looks like I’ve been having a fair share of benevolence and mishaps!

That leaves us this month, March. It hasn’t been all shine but so far it’s been the brightest. I will brush off traveling in Modern coast bus. The reason this has to be the best I’ve said it many times before and am going to say it again; I pushed myself. For thirty days straight, I woke up prepared and knowing exactly what my day would encompass and how. Being the lady of the house having to do all the chores, falling ill in between, waking up in an out of whack mood and all the reasons you can possibly come up with, but non strong enough to make me drop by the wayside. My dedication was stronger than my excuse.

Everyday I always thought about the day it’ll end a whatever awaits me, it can’t be so bad. I couldn’t imagine putting myself up for a task and failing and then having to make excuses for the next who knows days.

Sometimes it is akin to walking through a minefield. You pour out your thoughts and feelings and it’s like shouting down a bottomless abyss. Thing is, it’s overwhelming. But I needed the rainbow…so the rain was inevitable. Even so, good writers like Bikozulu and Magunga took years to excel in their craft, mine can’t be any different.

So is it worth the thrill, the fear and the butterflies? Uh huh, you bloody bet!

Sharoe.

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