#Writer’s Problems

Don’t be afraid to write crap, crap makes great fertilizer!

“Breathe! You can do this. No pressure!”

“Umm….yes pressure! You haven’t written anything in two months!”

“How dare you bring that up?! You know how sensitive I am about my writer’s block. Besides, I have been busy with…..stuff!”

“Stuff? Really? And writer’s block? Cm-on, that is the oldest excuse in the book!”

This continues on for a while until the sound of someone clearing their throat a little too emphatically draws your attention and you look up. There you find a slew of horrified faces staring at you as if you have a mushroom sprouting from your forehead. You pat your forehead just to be sure, “Phew! No mushrooms.” You look up again, that’s when it hits you like a sucker punch that you have been vocalizing your thoughts for the past few minutes.

“Oh God! Not again!” (Starts to slowly sink back in your chair)

Before I go on any further with this post, let it be known that writing is an art form that I have always had profound respect for. The ability to use to words to evoke a complex assortment of emotions, to give life to the inanimate, to offer a different perspective on what might be considered mundane; these are just but a few reasons why I am irrevocably in love with the art form.

That being said, I have come to learn that though the thrill of creating something fresh and exciting and having it be appreciated by others is positively exhilarating, the process can be a total pain! No really, writing totally sucks sometimes!

Don’t believe me huh? Let me see if I can try and make you see things my way.

#Writer’s Problems 

1. When you have the entire story all planned out in your head but have absolutely nothing to write once you get to the actual typing.

2. When English becomes an alien language that is total gibberish and you can’t spell a word to save your life.


3. When you realize that the story isn’t as great as you had imagined it in your head once you write it down and read it out loud.

4. Don’t me get me started on the many pitfalls of punctuation!

5. EDITING!!!!!!!!


7. When you haven’t written anything in weeks then you wake up one day and write two stories and four poems in two hours!

8. When you go through your first drafts and can’t press the delete button fast enough!

9. When you go through the pointers that you had quickly jotted down earlier thinking you would remember the details.

10. When you obsess over the endless ways to phrase a sentence. (When the endless ways with which you can phrase a sentence becomes an obsession)

11. And last but definitely not least,when you have a serious case of the writer’s block. Ugh!

With that dare I say impressive list of points, I rest my case.

Writing is indeed no mean feat but let me let you in on a little secret………. I wouldn’t have it any other way!

The Musings of a Broken Heart

Tic Toc! Tic Toc!

On and on the pink faced wall clock drawls as if in amused mockery of the ball of limbs and hair that you have shaped yourself to be. The air is dense, even the sheets seem heavy. You kick them off with more force than necessary. They are suffocating. Somewhat like the anguish and sorrow that permeates the walls of the room.

“Over you I have control at least!” You mutter to the now jumbled mess of sheets on the floor. A recalcitrant chuckle escapes your lips.

You don’t remember the last time you showered. Four….five days?

“It’s not like anybody sees me! It’s not like anybody gets close enough to care whether I stink or not!”

It can’t be that horrible can it? This limbo you’re living in. This space of nothingness. You hear it, don’t you? The eerie voice that seeps from under your door or are those your troubled thoughts again?

“You have to stay here. Here is safe you see. Here he can’t hurt you. He can’t make you feel invisible”

It’s dark. Too early in the morning. The light from the screen burns your eyes. A few hours have passed since you last looked at his profile picture. You tap on the ubiquitous green icon on the Favorites section of your app list. Scroll down the list of recent chats. His picture is not too far down. How could it be? When it was him that you rushed to text about every little odd thing that happened during the day. Oh how you itched to tell him about the new salt shakers in the office cafeteria! He didn’t seem to mind your eccentricities then. They amused him. It’s funny isn’t it? The frangibility of humor. Administered in too large a dose and it warps into something else. Something sad.

Eventually he grew tired of your idiosyncrasies. He said he did not find you funny anymore. He started taking days to reply to your texts. Didn’t pick up the phone when you called. Called you petty when you confronted him about his distance and indifference. You watched as he became a stranger before your very eyes. You felt the little cuts bleed as the sharp edges of your now shattered heart swam  around in your chest. He did not love you anymore. Makes you wonder if he ever did!

Yet still you crave to tell him about the artist that you have just discovered. How her music makes you feel light and airy and wistful. How every melody reminds you of him. Visions of a happier time. When your chest did not bleed.

“No! Don’t you dare! He doesn’t deserve it!”

But you do it anyway. It’s not like you can stop loving him overnight.

Your heart sank when you saw his latest Facebook post. Something about celebrating one year of friendship with some girl you don’t know. ‘To many more!’ He comments.

“Who is this girl? How  does she know him? Wait, why do I care? Why am I still his friend on Facebook?”

There is an overwhelming need to smash the phone against the wall. To shatter it into a million pieces and look at the pieces strewn on the floor.


You stare at the profile picture once more. He’s at a game of some sort judging from the yelling fans that surround him. Stripes of black paint across their cheeks. Must be a rugby game. He loves rugby. He seems happy. He must be happy. He’s smiling, oblivion plastered on his face.

“How can he be happy? Did I really matter that little to him?”



Disclaimer: JSYK this is not a TL; DR post. FYI, if you still use “FYI” to be sassy when schooling someone you’re just old. JSYK is the new FYI, so get with it!

I think it would be totally unethical if I went on with this post without first conceding, ungrudgingly that about a week ago, I was a total n00b when it came to internet acronyms. Yap, I was one of the peeps who googled what is the meaning of FOMO under the table when it was mentioned in some random conversation. #N00b PROBLEMS #Google is bae! However, FOMO did catch up with me, when I found myself not understanding half of what was being said in my group texts, I knew that something had to change. It was time I got educated in the art of internet lingo.


BTW can I mention how proud I am of my disclaimer. I would never have imagined myself typing acronyms like TL; DR without coming off as being extra. Okay, I’m done with the crazy acronyms! For my fellow n00bs out there, no need to rush to google, I got you covered. Here’s the 411:

  • Being extra- trying too hard or being over the top
  • JSYK- Just so you know (sigh kids these days)
  • TL; DR- Too long don’t read

If you don ‘t know what FYI means, you are beyond help my friend.

Like Frodo Baggins walking into Mordor (What up LOTR reference! Haha!) I have in the past week ventured into the vast world of internet lexicon. I have delved into the mysterious lands of Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and WhatsApp.  It was interesting to the say the least. I laughed, I cried, I believed! That sounded a tad bit dramatic didn’t it? But with acronyms like POTATO translating to mean people over thirty acting twenty-one, I think I can be excused. Who comes up with these things anyway? With the internet spewing out new acronyms each day, each one more ludicrous than the last, it would be impossible to list down all of them in a single post but I was able to short list a few either on the basis of having intriguing stories of origin or just being plain ridiculous.

OMG (Oh my God) – Apparently the first documented use of this ubiquitous acronym can be traced to a letter written by John Arrbuthnot Fisher, First Baron Fisher of Kilverstone in 1917 to Winston Churchill that concluded, “I hear that a new order of Knighthood is on the tapis- O.M.G. (Oh! My! God!) – shower it on the Admiralty!” (Meaning “Knight me, please!”) I think that makes OMG a total badass in the acronym world in my book.

BAE- Some may say that bae is a shortened version of the word babe or baby, others may argue that it is an acronym for before anyone else. However you use it, it is a term of endearment. But did you know that bae is the Danish word for poop! This is not a typo; I did in fact write poop. If you plan on getting involved with a Danish guy or lady you might want to reconsider your usage of the term.

TBT- The social media phenomenon of #Throwback Thursday was started by a guy called Matt Halfhill who started a blog in 2006 about sneakers. He decided to do a weekly feature called Throwback Thursday which would be about an old shoe he liked, to break up the focus on all things new. How he decided to combine the two words you ask? Matt is a huge sucker for alliteration.

LOL- Before we were laughing out loud, there were little old ladies engaging in more serious happenings. In the medical world, LOL is used to describe elderly female patients. Seriously I am not making this stuff up!

Then there is just the plain ridiculous section of acronyms: L8R(later), THX(thanks), BC(because), CYA (see you). For these I have no comment; not even a snarky remark. Why, just why?

Clearly, the world of internet lingo is a rabbit hole but that’s what makes it so fascinating, you can never stop learning something new! With slang words like lulz and lolz, ROFL and ROTFLMAO, facepalm and headdesk; the discovery never ends!


The Scolioser


The P Word

Hello there!

Yeah I know, it’s been quite a while since my last blog post; 14 months to be exact! Not that anybody is counting. OK, maybe I was, don’t judge.

So where should I start?  Well, I guess that first and foremost would be to give a reason for my rather extensive French leave. I could say that I had been busy adjusting to campus life, that I had writer’s block and couldn’t formulate a single sentence to save my life or simply that I was too lazy! Truth is, I have no quintessential excuse to give you!

I totally get what this cat is going through! Writer’s Block is REAL people!

So I guess that brings me to the next question, why start writing again? I would love to say that I wanted to start writing  again  after hours of deep introspection where I had some sought of supernatural experience in which God’s  voice; a deep resonant  voice, one very much like that of James Earl Jones (King Mufasa: Lion King) urged me to remember who I am, that I am a writer meant to share my story with the world or something profound like that but no, sadly regrettably no. The honest, less glamorous story is that  I endured  for what seemed like an eternity, sitting at my desk staring at a mockingly blank screen. I did this a countless number times and each time I ended up pressing the delete button until today. I finally published a freaking blog post! A brief moment while I do a totally inappropriate victory dance (Cue Pharrell  Williams’ ‘Happy’)

In light of this my latest feat of accomplishment, I have decided to talk about the dreaded P word: PROCRASTINATION. A grave illness that ails most of us. I mean this thing ranks up there with the likes of cancer and heart disease(I’m kidding)  But seriously, how many times have you put off that important thing that you’ve been wanting to do for ages? Maybe start a business or join that really cool club or try that new recipe or go on that hike or as in my case, write that blog post. We so often put these plans on hold promising ourselves that we’ll get to it eventually. “I’ll get this done…tomorrow” Sadly, tomorrow never comes and we are left a bumbling mess of guilt and panic and what’s more depressing is that we do it, over and over and over again. A vicious cycle that I’ve come to know too well.


Now that we’ve at least come to terms and acknowledged that we are hopeless procrastinators, we can try and find a cure for this horrible illness ; today and not tomorrow or next week ; we’ve already been down that road.

I think that all procrastination to start something new boils down to fear.The fear that we’ll be horrible at it and that it will blow up in our faces or maybe what other people will think about us. Well  here is some tough love for you sugar, you will probably be horrible at it the first time around and you may make a complete fool of yourself but the magic of it is that in time you learn and you grow to be a better writer, a better cook, a better photographer, a better coder or anything else you’ve set you’re mind to be. And honestly, who cares what people think? Isn’t your happiness and self fufilment worth so much more?

Here’s my challenge to you, find something that you’ve always wanted to do, get off your butt and do it! The best way to get things done is to simply begin. Go forth and procrastinate no more! And don’t forget to tell me all about it.

The Scolioser





I read a quote recently, it said that one should not let their struggles become their identity. I didn’t get it at first and it took me a while before I could really understand what it meant.

Identity, the essence of who you are, self perception,your thoughts, your ambitions, your dreams and yes your inhibitions and imperfections. It also encompasses how you present yourself to the world. So what did it mean that I should not let my struggles become my identity?

Due to my medical history, I was always perceived as a sickly child. Most people did not except much from me and I always drew great pleasure in proving them wrong by getting good grades in school.However, there was a point in my life when I started believing that I was different, that I was lesser than my peers; especially during the progression of my spinal curvature.

I hated being in social gatherings, I grew more conscious of the constant stares that I got anywhere I went. As a result, my self esteem plummeted.I walked around with my head lowered and I avoided making eye contact with anyone ,anytime someone looked at me, I assumed that they were looking at the hump on my back. I was bitter and I was very insecure.

I have always had an independent spirit, wanting to do things on my own but my condition made me dependent on others. To go anywhere outside my house, I needed to be accompanied. I could not meet up with my friends when I wanted to. I could not have the independence that a person my age should have.Not until recently did I realise how bitter this made me. I grew into an angry and defensive person. I took offence at the most trivial and light hearted comments.I saw myself as the “disabled kid” and I walked around with the cloud of self pity over my head and I’m sure this rubbed off on anyone I came across.I had let my condition, my struggles become my identity.

Its only recently that I have come to realise that the only way to be happy was my changing of the perception of self. That I could not let my condition define me when there is so much more to who I am. Life is too short, to waste mourning and brooding over what we are not instead of celebrating what we are.

You cannot move through life focussing on the negative when you can be celebrating your wonderful qualities such as being a wonderful friend, intelligent, funny, always cheerful, artistic, crafty, tech savy(there are too many to list down here). Let these become your identity! 

The Scolioser


An Indomitable Spirit

‘I am not what happened to me. I am what I choose to become’ ~C.G Jung. Sometimes the strength within you is not a big fiery flame for all to see, it is just a tiny spark that whispers ever so softly “You got this. Keep going”. The prospect of going to high school was both exciting and daunting for me. Exciting on one hand because I would get to meet new people, be in a new environment and get to know what big words like onomatopoeia mean. On the other hand, it was daunting because I didn’t know how I would cope with the strenuous physical demands that come about with being in high school. Scoliosis affects my balance and makes it difficult to walk in a straight line or to stand still(I’ve had one too many embarrassing experiences due to this particular effect) It also makes it near impossible to walk around without someone to hold on to for support.Basically, my mobility is not very good and that was going to be a problem, a big problem! I was expected to get around. A LOT!! From the classes to the dormitory to the labs to the dining hall! I was expected to cover a lot of ground each and every day. Not to mention the little tasks such as making my bed in the morning or buttoning my blouse or tying my shoe laces( these can be a little problematic for me),I was in for quite a ride! The only thing I remember about my first day of being a high school student was that I broke down in the dining hall. I literally burst into tears! I was exhausted! My back hurt like crazy, I had to deal with the endless stares from everyone around me and I don’t even remember how I got down the huge flight of stairs that led to the hall! I was bitter, sad and that terrible feeling of self pity was rearing its ugly head again. I felt alone, nobody could understand what I was going through. I had the brief thought of going to the principal’s office and begging her to take me home. There was no way I was going to make it here! I was on my way to the principal’s office when I realised that by giving up, I was letting my condition control my life. Was I going to run anytime things got tough? No way!So I turned around and headed to class.Now that I think about it,that was the best decision I ever made! I’m done with high school now and to be honest,I don’t think it would have happened if I  had walked into the principal’s office that day. So the next time life throws you a curve, just hang in there, keep going!Anyone can give up, it’s the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that’s true strength. The scolioser, XOXO

The Definition of Beauty

Beauty can take different forms. There is the beauty of a sunset, the beauty of a firework display with its brilliant colours or the beauty of the full moon in the starry night sky, but I have come to realise that the most sought after kind of beauty is physical beauty. How you look on the outside is what is important! As the common phrase goes, “Looks do matter!”

It is the unwritten rule of society that as a woman, as a female, my worth, my value,is to measured by my physical beauty. How flawless my skin is, how meticulous my make-up is or the size of my waistline! If I was to be measured by the world’s definition of beauty I would probably rank very low! Seriously, my skin is far from flawless(acne phase! The bane of every teens existence) I can hardly distinguish between primer and concealer(just to mention a few) and not to mention the debilitating effects caused by scoliosis.

Scoliosis not only affects the spine, it affects my shoulders, one shoulder is higher than the other, my ribcage sticks out(people tend to think I’m anorexic or malnourished),one hip is higher than the other and I can’t leave out the huge rib hump of course! Yap! It’s clear that I’m no Vogue or Elle magazine model(the paradigm of femininity and beauty)

I would be morose and depressed by my unfortunate circircumstances had this question not popped into my head.”What is the definition of beauty? Is aesthetic beauty true beauty?” I’ll tell you a  little story.

One day,I decided that I would try out an egg omelette recipe that I  had come across in my Yummly app(an awesome app for foodies by the way). I walked into the kitchen and chose the best egg I could set my eyes on. It had the smoothest shell and not a single spot. Judging from its outward appearance I premused that it had to be good. I was horrified to discover upon cracking it open that it was rotten! The smell of it was nauseating!

From my experience with the beautiful rotten egg, I learned that it’s not what is on the outside that matters but what’s really important is what is inside. True beauty comes from being kind, thoughtful, passionate, valiant, cheerful, courageous, determined, loyal but mostly importantly by loving those around you! That is My definition of beauty!

As I strive every day to be truly beautiful, will join me?

The scolioser


The Genesis

Hello world! I guess my procrastinating period is over because I’ve gotten down to publishing my first blog post! Yay! So why start a blog? Well, I have had scoliosis for about seven years now. Scoliosis is a spinal condition in which the spine curves to the left or right sometimes curving at two places. I was first diagnosed with scoliosis when I was 12 years old which started my journey as the girl with the unusual twisted back.

When I was younger, I was a Disney addict. I loved watching their animated movies. I particularly loved the disney classic ‘The Hunchback of Notre Dame’ I pitied the main character Quasimodo who was shunned and isolated because of his deformity. He was humiliated and mocked because of who he was. It never crossed me that I  would one day be like Quasi. Life sure is full surprises!!

It is often said that when life gives you lemons you make lemonade but what about when life hands you a disability? What next? A disability that affects every aspect of your life. How you sit, how you walk, how people percieve you. I remember looking in the mirror and not recognising the girl I saw. She was sickly, she had a huge hump on her back and with time the girl in the mirror was ugly….

It took me a long time to accept that scoliosis was to be part of my life, that I had to cope with pain each and every day. And so began my everyday struggle with scoliosis. It has been quite a journey and why not share it with the world! So here I go. I hope I can help someone out there to feel that they are not alone. You may be bent but definitely not broken!!

The scolioser