‎Today we mourn the death of a tragic relationship,
one that should have been strangled in its crib years ago.
My sister, a radiant soul, wasted precious seasons
nurturing a man who was nothing more than a rusted
shell pretending to be human.
His face was an insult to symmetry,
his spirit a barren wasteland where
dreams went to starve and die.
‎
‎He spoke in the language of cowards — half-formed
excuses, limp jokes, and endless complaints. Being around
him was like listening to a broken record of failure,
arrogance, and self-pity. He did not grow. He did not rise.
He simply sat, rotting in place, dragging her light down
with him as if misery could be mistaken for love.
‎
‎The thought that she ever had to touch him, to lie
beside that mass of mediocrity and misplaced
pride, makes my soul ache. It wasn't love.
It was charity to a creature who
mistook attention for adoration.
‎
‎But now, the air is clean.
The shadows have lifted.
And he, a relic of bad decisions and worse
genetics, can crawl back to the obscurity
he never deserved to leave.
‎
|Mediocre|

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My new love...
She is the dawn after a storm, a light that cuts
through my shadowed past with tender brilliance.
Of medium height, she moves like a whispered secret—
soft, deliberate, unforgettable. Her body is a masterpiece,
sculpted by dreams and kissed by elegance.
She’s well-endowed, her curves a perfect harmony—
neither loud nor lacking, but divinely balanced,
designed to captivate without apology.

Her beauty is magnetic, but her aura—oh, her aura—
is where the magic lies. When she smiles, the world slows;
time bends to her presence. There’s a fire in her gaze,
gentle yet fierce, that melts resistance with a glance.
Her laughter is music, her voice a lullaby wrapped in silk.
She doesn't just walk into rooms—
she owns them, without ever trying.

Her heart is her crown—genuine, rare, and golden.
She speaks kindness fluently, loves deeply,
and forgives with the strength of queens.
Loyalty flows in her veins, grace in every breath.

She is my muse, my miracle, my obsession.
With her, even eternity feels too short.

|Addiction|

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Kuna aina tatu za aibu:

‎1. Kuomba ni aibu ya kwanza
‎2. Kunyimwa ni aibu ya pili
‎3. Kutangazwa ni aibu ya tatu

Aghalabu zote hufanyika kwa mwandamano.

Hivyo, jifunze kujitafutia kwa maana
aso akili hajui manufaa ya kufikiri.

|Aibu|

-

I know him—a gentle, kind man with
big dreams and a heart that beats for you.
He talks about your future with so much hope.
He trusts you. He trusts me.
And that’s what makes this unbearable.
Because behind his back, we’ve created
something we never should have.
Something that’s now too real to ignore.

It started small—just a coffee, an innocent moment.
But we crossed a line, slowly at first, then all at once.
Now it’s long calls, private meetings, and
emotions we can’t pretend don’t exist.
What was once harmless has turned
into a secret that’s drowning us both.

I don’t have anything real to give you.
Nothing lasting. Just my time, my body, and
feelings wrapped in guilt. He gives you everything—
love, commitment, a life. And yet you’re still
here with me. And I still want you to be.

The guilt haunts me every day.
Seeing him happy, hearing him speak
your name—it's a knife to the heart.
Still, I stay silent.

And the worst part?
Even knowing how much it would hurt him,
I’m not ready to let go of you. That truth
breaks me more than anything else.

|Sweetness in Pain|

-

It’s been nearly three months
since you chose your new path,
And I’ve watched silently as your world changed.
I’ve seen the smiles, the adventures,
the way you speak of him with pride—
From the outside, it seems perfect,
Like fate aligned for you both at just the right time.
And I won't lie, there’s a strange warmth in knowing
Someone finally gave you what I never could.
You look happy, lighter,
Like the weight we carried no longer burdens you.

I’ve seen the places you've gone,
The memories you’re making,
And I know deep down—
I couldn't have treated you that well.
You deserved the attention, the tenderness,
The freedom to bloom.
I’m genuinely happy for you.
But amidst that happiness,
I’m left with a question that won't let me rest—
What kind of man is he really?

Because night after night, your calls still come.
Whispers of how you miss me, ache for me,
Beg me for just one more night, one more lie.
What kind of love lets you drift back to me so easily?
Does he not hear your heart still knocking at my door?
Doesn’t he feel the coldness in your warmth for him?
Or worse… does he feel it all, and still chooses to ignore?

|Lost soul|

-

I'm glad we accepted the fact that we were
never meant to be, that the dreams we built
were only castles in the sand, washed away
by the tide of your indifference. “True love” —
such a beautiful lie — never lived in your
heart or crossed your mind. I spent so long
trying to find it in your eyes, only to be met
with cold silence, empty promises, and cruel truths.

You taught me that love can wear the mask
of care while holding a dagger behind its back.
I'm glad now, in the ruins of what we were,
that I see it clearly. Your efforts to see me
broken, to watch my tears fall like rain, were
never in vain. You succeeded.

I cried for the love I gave and never received,
for the person I lost trying to keep you, for
the pain that became my shadow. But even
in heartbreak, there is clarity — and now
I know that losing you was
the first step to finding myself.

|Sweet sorrow|

-

Forget heartbreaks.
Forget being broke.

The REAL pain is WATCHING people you grew up with,
joked with, and even motivated them to work harder,
moving ahead—while you're stuck,
battling the same struggles in silence.

I’ve smiled through their wins, cheered them on…
but deep inside, it hurts. Not because I’m jealous,
but because I had dreams too. I thought I’d be further
by now. I thought I had made all the right moves.

Some nights, I lie awake asking, “Why not me?”
It's lonely when your heart is heavy with hope,
but your hands are empty.
You start doubting your worth,
your timing—your entire path.

But I remind myself:

delay isn’t denial.
Maybe I’m being prepared for something deeper,
something bigger than I can see right now.
So I’ll keep showing up, even with tears in my eyes.
Because when my time comes, I want to be ready—
and I know it’ll be worth the wait.

|Forgotten Glory|

-

Two years ago, you faced challenges
that felt overwhelming—obstacles that
made you question your strength and
wonder if you'd ever find peace.
But look at you now...

You barely even remember those struggles.
What once felt like the end of the world is
now just a distant memory. Time, healing,
and growth have brought you this far, and
that’s something to be proud of.

You’ve already overcome so much.
Every time you thought you couldn’t take
another step, you did. Every time you
felt like giving up, you held on.
That resilience is your superpower.
It’s easy to forget how strong you are until
you look back and see the mountains
you’ve already climbed.

So take heart—whatever you’re facing now,
this too shall pass. Storms don't last forever,
and even the darkest night eventually gives
way to dawn. Keep going. Better days are not
just coming—they're already on their way.

|This too shall pass|

-

When a relationship ends, the mature partner
reflects and grows, while the immature
one rushes into another, avoiding change.

They replace you quickly to prove you were
the problem, but the lesson they’re avoiding
will catch up with them. Their new partner
has different expectations, and over time,
their true nature will surface.

If you think they downgraded, they didn’t—
they found their real level. You had elevated
them beyond where they belonged.

Let people do as they wish; it shows where
they truly fit. They’re not cheating with cheap
people—they are cheap people.

A woman with drivers or a man with nannies
isn’t lost—that’s their character. Money
doesn’t change morals; it amplifies them.

Focus on yourself. Don’t be distracted by
their theatrics. Be grateful you saw their true
self before it was too late.

|Mature-move|

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"Na kwani aliona nini kwa huyo
msichana na hata hana nyash!"

That question already tells you—he saw
something you didn’t. Let’s break it down.

Men seek women for two reasons:
sex and love. But when it comes to
marriage, neither is the priority.
Men marry for stability.

A man can love you and never marry you.
He can sleep with you for years and never commit.
But the moment he finds
stability, he puts a ring on it.

Men are visionaries—
they don’t dream of wedding
dresses or bridesmaids. They ask:
"Can she build me a home?"

Women are multipliers—
Give her groceries, she makes a meal.
Give her money, she gives you peace.
Give her sperm, she gives you children.
Give her hell, she becomes your worst nightmare.

That’s why men leave after years and marry
someone they met in a month. Stability wins.

Sex is pleasure.
Love is affection.
RESPECT is stability.

|Stability|

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