Showing posts from March, 2018

Inside A Stammerer's Pain

How does it feel like to have thoughts bottled up in you begging for freedom but finding none? I will not forget in a hurry.    I used to be a stammerer. Yes the key word is "used to" because I'm no longer. And I don't care if you still hear me stammer sometimes. I said I'm no longer a stammerer. We'll talk about that  next Sunday.    The purpose of this post is to create an awareness. Just to give you a little sneaky peep into what life is like for a stammerer, of whom I was the least anyway. I can't even imagine how difficult it must be for others who have it more severe.   I am angered when people make fun of stammerers. They think it's a joke to mimic a stuttering speech. If only they knew what it felt like, it wouldn't be a laughing matter.    Do you joke about people being blind? Or about someone on a wheelchair? So why would you make fun of someone being a stammerer? Don't you know it's quite a disability for some?    How would

I Said I Must Write

So I said I must write and I didn't care about what.  My Granny died 4 weeks ago and we were asked to write a tribute for the publication to be served on the day of her burial in May. The deadline for submission was last Thursday. I had thought I wasn't going to be able to write anything since I haven't had any inspiration to write this year. Not that I have not had any interesting experiences to be shared, but I was just waiting for the first line to drop on my lap before I would pick up my notepad to type 'cause that's what I'm used to. But I've waited and you've waited. I still see the numbers coming to my blog every week to check and it hurts me. It hurts me that I don't have something for you, that you are disappointed again and again, that the numbers are dropping, that soon Radiant would be history. It hurt me. Then the deadline for submission was approaching. How would I justify not writing a tribute for my Grand mom? Don't I miss her?