Love Notes On The Balcony: Family Is Self Defined

It's okay to own your narrative

There are but many instances in life where you realise that you owe yourself so much more than you give yourself, that you are on the recieving end of a disservice done by you to you.

Getting your hopes up for people who continue dissapoint you and believing that the law of enemies does not apply to family is cute, scary and risky.

It is in adulthood that your ideal expectations and hopes of unconditional love are stripped away by all filters of condition especially love out of duty as opposed to love that is pure, and unfiltered

Yet we carry this flag, we broaden our smiles, aware of the cynical nature of the simulation of oppression that we can taste, touch, see, think and feel for what is innate.

For what always was, the hope, the certainty, the ferocious plausibility that we are worthy that we will see and create better days, that we will make sure that our children are spoiled yet humble, disciplined and without the malice intentions and grudges we harbour for years that split so much grace apart

We should only hope it's not too late to start, and sometimes starting means accepting that there are people who are lost causes and those whom you can be close to, hang tight to them.

Family does not always have to be blood. Family and home are a feeling.