Ramadan Mubarak
Another year in Johannesburg, completion of my second to be exact, but its my third Ramadan here. If people tell me once more that life gets easier remind me to cut them off from my life. Life doesn’t get easier, it gets weirder and at times harder.
Ramadan is one of those difficult times in the year. Times like these you wish you were at home surrounded by family. Mum who somehow even though she is working has food for iftaar ready, and dad who is always there making sure you wake up for sehri.
But truth be told, even though Ramadan is difficult alone, I love the month. It’s a time when I seek myself again. When I try and figure out who I am and where I want to be in the next year.
This must be the hardest thing to write…What is there to know about me other than I detest describing who or what I am to others. Though I’m sure that if you readily continue reading this blog you could come to your own conclusions as to who I am, who I want to be and who really lurks within that dark exterior she calls her skin. Other then that a brief overview summary of the psycho follows: A journalist by trade, an honours media and communication graduate with cultural studies to boot, a social media whore — you can find me at twitter and facebook among others and a sport enthusiast and a football [soccer] fanatic, g33k of note. 





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