CIMDHOG

In the feel of the humbling spirit in church, though it was after service, after_service programs are running in their various groups. As I listen, or pretend to listen to all the yakkity yak from my seating partner, my attention was shifted to a violin lesson going on behind us, the sound was beautiful and sounded some what familiar, but I couldn't place a finger on it, instead of letting myself to be bothered, I enjoyed the sound of the music produced by a young boy from a violin instrument. In the middle of my "ravelling" experience, I stopped short when I realised that the song was Taylor Swift's: "I knew you were trouble". At that realisation, I turned back and coincidentally our eyes paired, and the question came to me, "who is to be guilty?", is the young violinist who dares to play a secular music in church or me for knowing the song?

Where do I begin to recount all my frustrations, both on a local scale and an international scale they seem to be bombarding me at all sides. All manner of solutions seem to have been defied. At this point, I take the battle to someone who I know is the architect of it all...Life. Listening to talks like,"life isn't fair","life is a bi***h",or "when life throws you lemons" is a bit cliche for me, this time am taking matters into my own hands. As I opened the rickety gates of life's house I could sense the immediate fear and aweness fall upon me at the same time.my feet grew heavy with each step, but something seem to hasten my pace. I got to the house, which can only be described as ancient. The window panes seemed too tired to be still in existence. As I knocked the doors creaked open, as they have lost the real purpose pic of their existence, which is to guard, or in the least keep things or people away. I make my way into the building, my heart