Ten things not to say to a pregnant woman

So I’m 30 weeks pregnant and had been told/asked most of the things listed. I don’t actually mind because they say it lightheartedly. It just feels weird sometimes that I had to be asked so often.

Is This Thing On?

1. “I knew it!”

Even if you did know it, please pass on the opportunity to tout your psychic abilities (or your weird  claim that you unconsciously  smelled my pheromones.  ew).  When women say this, it usually means that they noticed your waist got a little bigger, or as one woman told me, “you had the waddle.” If it’s a man telling you this, then he might as well just say “Boobs,” because that’s what he noticed.    I promise.

2.  Any version of that horrific birth story you heard/witnessed/experienced

Just don’t.  Even if you think you are going to save your pregnant friend from pure disaster by recommending that she skip the epidural, or run screaming from the birth center, you won’t.  Chances are she has read all the horror stories and is staying awake at night thinking of them.  But as soon as you tell her those stories…

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Dreary Toll

Everything feels like work when you don’t like what you are doing. This is what we have been told all the time. Even the menial thing we do to exist feels like a chore, that we need so much strength to accomplish it.

No one has a one-shot solution to this. Each one of us bears some reasons that may not find weight to others estimation.

Life is one dreary toll. Everything about it is a tool provided so we can continue existing and moving through the cycle that we were programmed for since the beginning of time.


You are but one spec in this wide universe, insignificant and dispensable. You do not leave prints that can change the course of human existence. Unless, you are able to find a way to reverse or stop the unavoidable fate that awaits everyone, impending death.

Dreary toll of existence is all this is unless we find a meaning for it. And yet finding that begins another addition to the cycles that we find ourselves in, consuming us, sapping out our energy until we succumb to merely existing.

Existence likened to the a driftwood, no direction, no foreseeable fruitful end than to be swept ashore only to be washed again by the waves of senseless fate.

Dreary toll it is.

Do I want this?

This blog is another thing to get my brain busy with. As of present, I am not sure if this will prove to be useful to me, or just another addition to the clutter that abounds in my life now.

I wanted to try this. That is for sure.

I have made several adventures in the writing world but none seem to have impressed in me that satisfaction likened to having a restful sleep after a long tiring day.

I need an outlet. Something wherein I can say everything I have in mind with no limits. There is this someone inside that longs to shout out to the world all those buried thoughts and ideas which may or may not agree with somebody else’s. The point is to put it out here in the internet cosmos.

“Stranger Than Life” is meant to be a thought pad; an exposition of the rawness of my beliefs and the madness that buoys them.

I am mad in more than many ways. My sanity is imposed by society. The apparent clarity of my thoughts in my daily existence is an offshoot of the responsibilities I chose to carry however unprepared I was.

Welcome to my blog!