Journal: All In The Name

I’ve been cleaning out my closet… not figuratively, quite literally. I’ve been physically going through all the crap I’ve accumulated over 28 years of living. I’ll be moving out soon and I find myself holding on this aforementioned crap harder than ever. I haven’t even packed a little because the hoarding is a genuine problem.

Hoarding is also amazing. I’ve found so many forgotten things including a long exercise book. It’s hardbound and horrendous looking in green and yellow. Inside are meticulously number poems and self-pep talks from a teenage me. As I sat crossed leg on the cold floor of my lil’ bedroom, I flipped through pages of a young girl I don’t remember but somewhat recognise. It’s a fairly angst filled except I don’t remember the backstory/inspiration of each poem. I barely even remember who it’s for.

Want to hear the best part? It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s for me and now as I share this petite poem on this tiny blog… it’s for you.

When people hear the name of this blog – Slow Motion Thoughts – they often have to say it twice and say it slow for it to register. I really like it when that happens. It seems like they’re internalising those words or so I imagine. Perhaps they are sniggering at the pointlessness of it.

Sometimes, a few care enough to ask how those words were coined. To them I present this poem, written circa 2005 by a 16-17 year old Indian girl from Bombay. She doesn’t remember when or how these three unrelated words danced together and became a song. All she knows is that it stuck.

Also does this count for #NaPoMo?

slow mo poem final_1

slow mo poem final_2

Made using Fotor that’s clearly my favourite. Image courtesy Pexels.com.

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