You won’t find this to be a focused, niche blog. If you’re expecting to read the same topic everyday there are plenty of amazing blogs that have mastered this artform. I have too many interests to single out just one – one – and ordain it the Topic of My Blog.

In my work as a finance and operations professional, I run a tight ship. As a neurodivergent perpetually challenged by societal systems, I created my own systems. Routines of military precision keep my life running smoothly and ensure I drink enough water, get enough sleep, and just cope with the daily grind. They also bore me to tears and trigger obsessive compulsions.

How am I doing so far? Is your interest waning or has it piqued? If you can relate – I apologise.

In my daily life as an impulsive, opinionated person, I constantly walk the tight rope of cheerful diplomacy and satisfying my desire to be honest. I’ve furrowed many a brow and pursed many lips with my unfiltered thoughts.

I don’t have much talent for writing. I only hope that after twenty years, I have moved the needle forward somewhat. Read my first submission in an online writers group, particularly one fellow writer’s frustrated critique and let me know in the comments just how bad it was. Where I lack in talent, I compensate with a deep affinity for expressing myself through words. There is always the right word. Rolling the pronunciation off my tongue and savouring the semantics of a word, marveling at how much better it expresses than the others.

When I switch on my computer to write, I’m not hashing out search engine friendly content. I’m unleashing my creative spirit. Expressing with honesty my convictions on life, love, books, society, and the path of the soul in this awkward physical dimension. Reveling in that delicious after-glow of rearranging the letters of the English alphabet in the order of my creative expression.

The titleFajr, Books & That First Cuppa is an array of my favourite things. The Fajr morning worship is the first of the obligatory Muslim prayers offered just before sunrise each day. It’s a spiritual practice I’ve come to relish and rely on. Helping me to connect to the Creator, the Source of all that is, all that I love, and all that I am. Books represent my love for all things literary; including my long-time aspirations to write my own bestsellers. Lastly, that first cup of strong milky coffee is the best way to start my day. It’s my one thing. Humans are only as happy as they allow themselves to be and I aim to set the bar really low. The robot wars can befall mankind, or a disappointing stay in an Airbnb that didn’t match the pictures posted can test my inner Karen. Or I can simply be unlucky enough to be in the midst of tax filing season, and as long as I can wake up to a good cup of joe, there is still some good in the world. So much so that I pack my own coffee whenever I travel.

Incidentally, I enjoy all three of my favourite things early in the morning. As my interests change over time, one thing remains the same; love them, or hate them, I am one of those dreadful morning people. And my most favourite thing to do, is sit in the quietude of the hour after Fajr, sipping on strong milky coffee (no sugar please, and always in the same mug) letting my mind wander freely and unrestrained. Like it was designed to do. No systems to govern it. No tasks to pin it down. Free of the shackles of the upcoming day.

This blog is about those thoughts.

#Dverse adventure ageing animals art beauty Cape Town comedy conflict crime death dreams family fantasy feminism Flash fiction flowers Friday Fictioneers gangsters humanity human trafficking humour inspiration life love magic marriage murder photography Poetry psychological trauma real life Relationships religion romance roses scars science fiction selfdiscovery selflove society thriller travel true love War

Categories

Blog posts you might like to read:

Flash ficiton: Cold tea and cigarettes

Book review: Jane Eyre – not who you think she is

  • Italian inspiration

    As much as Madame Christie enjoyed Venice she was anxious to get going.  “Whatever is the holdup, Christo?” she snapped at the receptionist. “I am sorry Signora Christie, but we cannot check you out.” “Excuse me?!” “Orders from Investigatore Alfonsi.” Christo pointed at a gentleman in uniform, who spoke above the hum of agitated guests…

    Read more: Italian inspiration
  • Street Vermin

    Originally posted on What's So Funny?: Have you ever noticed that when a bug hits your windshield they always splatter directly in the center of your field of vision? This “accuracy of aim” occurs far too often to be purely coincidental. I suspect they are graduates from Kamikaze Insect Institute who are intent on…

    Read more: Street Vermin
  • Flux23

    PHOTO PROMPT ©Jill Wisoff Flux23 dropped to her knees, panting on the rooftop of the skyscraper. In seconds she morphed from a suit-wearing white male into herself. Brown hair and pale skin. A blue scaly patch behind her ear the only tell-tale sign of what she was. The city lights blurred in front of her.…

    Read more: Flux23
  • City of Bridges (The story behind my header image)

      Not all who wander are lost. And yet sometimes some of us who wander are lost. Lost in the daily grind and the call of the road, the ocean or the mountains is irresistible. Ironically, travel makes me feel more at home. I am not as well-traveled as other globetrotters, but the places I’ve…

    Read more: City of Bridges (The story behind my header image)
  • Rendezvous in the woods

    PHOTO PROMPT © Karen Rawson He gazed at the delicate line of her neck, tracing with his eyes along her collar-bone. “Josh, are you listening?” Carrie cocked her head to one side, blue eyes sparkling, blonde hair flowing with the breeze. “Huh? What were you saying?” He slipped his hand into his pocket. “So you…

    Read more: Rendezvous in the woods
  • Thoughts of a dying dream

    I was born with you, the day of your birth, in your awakening Out of those moments of joy bursting with light. I stood by you, through years of your longing, in your flagellation Through those moments of pain echoing with the truth. We have always been one, though you split us in two Denied…

    Read more: Thoughts of a dying dream

Subscribe

Enter your email below to receive updates.