Diary of a deep soul

Hi, I’m Kriss — short for “Christ in me.” A writer, deep feeler, and believer that broken hearts still have beautiful stories. I started Diary of a Deep Soul to pour light into places that feel heavy. I write for the dreamers, the quiet warriors, and the ones who just need someone to say, “I see you.” When I’m not writing, I’m probably reflecting, praying, or loving in silence. Welcome to my diary — it’s really just a letter to you.

[krissnightsworld]

The Beauty of Divine Detours

Have you ever wondered why sometimes things that are happening are just happening, even after you did everything in your power to avoid them?

Well, why did I say such a thing?

I was just thinking about an occurrence and I was like, “Damn… this actually happened.”

Now let me brief this for you.

There is something called Divine Direction or Divine Orchestration.

Now stay with me.

The Bible, which is the holy scripture, boldly said—and which is true—that God is never an author of confusion. He can never give us a burden we cannot carry.

Just like Job in the Bible… If you could remember or go through that passage, you will discover that when the devil came to attack Job, he first came to seek permission from God. God allowed him to show Job trials and deny him comfort, even when affliction hit him.

But God, being the all-knowing One, said he should go ahead.

Why did He say so?

Because He knew that Job was going to overcome it. He knew that Job would scale through.

Now what am I trying to say here?

Sometimes we may feel that things are not actually going the way we planned. Maybe the job you want, you couldn’t get. The person you wanted to marry didn’t work out.

My dear, it’s not the end.

Don’t beat yourself up saying you didn’t do enough, because you did.

And believe me when I say even God saw your progress. But sometimes He didn’t let that happen because that’s not the position He wants you to be in.

He needs people to see Him (God) through you.

At times, He puts men as a gateway or a path to help you to your destination. That’s why when we pray, we should ask God for His guidance— that He should put you on the right path at the right time.

So, my wonderful readers…

When you feel that things didn’t go as planned, yes you’re free to vent your anger and pour it out, because that’s what makes us human.

But it shouldn’t exceed that day.

Rather, take it to God in prayer. Tell Him:

“Lord, I don’t know why this should happen. I don’t know what Your plan is for me. But I pray and hope that I am walking in the right path. And if this path is wrong, connect me to the right path that will bring me close to the opportunity You have prepared for me.”

And like that, the storm, the pain, the anger, the disappointment in your heart will disappear like fog.

So to you who is reading this,

I hope it gets to you, and I hope you find peace and comfort in this little page of mine. 🤍✨

[krissnightsworld]

“Hold On, Child… Your Time Will Come.”

Hi…

Let’s talk.

I mean a casual, heart-to-heart talk between two people simply trying to find balance in this circle we call life.

So tell me…

How has life been for you lately?

Is it treating you fairly?

Is it harsh?

Is it juggling your emotions?

Or is everything finally aligning in your favour?

Whichever one you fall into, I want you to hear me clearly:

You’re doing beautifully.

Yes — the trials, the heartaches, the pressure, the inability to meet all your wants and desires… I understand them. You know why?

Because I’m also in that category.

I’m a young woman still trying to understand what I was made for, and how to navigate this beautiful canvas called life.

Sometimes we look around and see our friends moving ahead — some making massive money, some already CEOs of big brands, some in beautiful relationships, and some even getting married.

Maybe that’s why it’s called the circle of life.

But listen…

I was led to tell you something — something God has always whispered to me, so now I’m passing it to you:

“Hold on, child.”

Just hold on.

It’s not over until it’s over.

And I’m not saying this to encourage only you.

I’m encouraging myself too.

There’s a saying in my language:

“Everybody’s porridge cannot cook at the same time.”

And truly… that’s life.

So instead of running to distractions, run to God.

Talk to Him like you would talk to your best friend or your parents.

Trust me — He’s always ready to listen, no matter how undeserving you think you are.

Whenever I talk to Him, I feel this deep calmness inside me…

like a small light turning on in my soul.

If it takes crying, cry.

Let it out, my darling.

The strongest people are the ones who allow themselves to break and heal.

And instead of drowning your heart in loud music, play something soft… something that lifts your spirit.

I listen to Enya a lot — her music feels like balm.

Read books. Feed your mind.

Don’t give your thoughts the opportunity to wander too far — because even a few seconds of worrying about tomorrow can break your heart in a hundred tiny ways.

So to you reading this…

I am cheering for you.

And I truly can’t wait to hear your fight song. 🥰✨

[krissnightsworld]

For one day, never believe — not even for a second — that you’re not enough.

Who said that to you? Who planted that lie in your heart? And how dare they?

You are you. Authentically, beautifully, unapologetically you. Don’t let anyone rewrite that. If you love, then love freely. If you fail, remember—everyone does. What truly shapes you is how many times you stand back up again. Keep trying. Keep holding on.

I say this because I’ve been there too. I’ve had days when I felt like I wasn’t doing enough… or maybe I was doing too much. Days when I tried to become someone I wasn’t, or change into someone I could never be. And it backfired. It left me frustrated, drained, abandoned—stuck.

But then I realized something simple: whatever is meant to be, will be.

So you—yes, you. Whether you’re a girl or a boy, rich or poor—hear me:

No one has the right to define you. Only your Maker does.

Do what makes you happy. Do what keeps your skin glowing and your spirit light. Just make sure whatever you do brings glory to God, the Author and Finisher of our faith.

And if this is exactly what you’re going through right now, I hope these words reach you. I hope they lift you. I hope they put a smile on your beautiful face.

Remember: you are a royal generation. 🌸👑

[krissnightsworld]

so this is love —

soft, pink, dangerous.

an addiction wrapped in warmth,

a sweetness that settles quietly

into your bloodstream.

and when you try to let it go,

your chest tightens.

your fingers tremble.

your mind whispers,

maybe just one more taste…

just one more spark…

but you know going back

means losing yourself again.

it means placing your heart

in the hands of something

that never learned

how to hold gently.

and yet—

as the memory slowly fades,

you feel something shift.

a lightness.

a calmness.

like rose-coloured air

finally filling your lungs.

i want to forget.

i want to let go.

but whenever i feel myself healing,

the thoughts slip back in,

soft as petals,

sharp as thorns.

will i ever receive

the love i dream of?

will i ever be able to give love

the way my heart longs to?

my heart is sober.

my mind is tender.

and love—

this gentle, mighty thing—

remains a mystery.

these are the words of a girl

who tasted the drug,

felt the sweetness,

survived the ache,

and is learning to breathe

in soft pink again.

[krissnightsworld]

I’m Back — And This Time, For Me

a soft re-awakening

There’s a kind of silence

that doesn’t mean disappearance

just growth happening quietly

behind the scenes.

For a while, life moved me

through chapters I didn’t plan for:

school struggles,

stalled dreams,

unexpected heartbreak,

NYSC responsibilities,

and the heavy weight of being

the first born who must hold it all together.

In those moments,

my words sat patiently in the corner,

waiting for me to breathe again.

But writing…

writing has always been my safe place.

My little world.

My soft inhale.

My reminder that I am still here,

still becoming.

So yes—

I’m back.

Not because everything is perfect.

Not because life suddenly aligned.

But because this time,

I am choosing me.

Gently.

Intentionally.

Without guilt.

I’ve learned that life is art.

Some days we are unfinished sketches.

Some days we bloom off the page.

Some days we’re just learning how to hold the pen again.

And that’s okay.

I want my corner of the internet

to reflect exactly that:

the rawness,

the softness,

the quiet healing,

the becoming.

So here’s my re-introduction:

I’m Kriss.

I write for the girl I used to be,

the woman I am now,

and anyone standing in the space between

heartbreak

and healing.

I write to breathe.

To feel.

To remind myself that life can be heavy

and still beautiful.

So yes…

I’m back.

Not as perfection.

Not as a finished story.

But as myself — finally choosing myself.

This time,

for me.✨😇

[krissnightsworld]

Title: “I Never Really Left…

Hey you 🌙

It’s been a little while, hasn’t it?

I didn’t mean to go silent, and I promise I didn’t disappear. I’ve just been in a quiet space… sitting with myself, listening to the whispers of my soul, and letting God hold me through it all.

Sometimes, we pause—not because we’re lost, but because we’re growing in silence. That was me. Living, learning, unlearning, and slowly finding peace again.

But I’m still here. I never left. And now, with a quieter heart and clearer mind, I’ll start dropping pieces of my soul here again—soon.

Expect more raw reflections, soft letters, healing whispers, and honest conversations—the kind that makes you feel seen, even in silence.

Thank you for waiting, for being here, and for reading me.

With grace and light,

Kriss | krissnightworld 🕊️

[krissnightsworld]

Poem: “Soléna”

They called her broken,

but didn’t see how the cracks

let galaxies leak through her skin.

She walks like silence,

but her thoughts?

A symphony of suns and sorrow.

Soléna—

born of dusk and dawn,

carrying fire in her chest

and oceans in her eyes.

She writes not to impress,

but to release—

grief, grace, the ache of almost-love,

the weight of what if.

She loves deeply,

too deeply,

even when love returns in silence.

Yet still, she stays soft—

not because the world is kind,

but because she chooses to be.

Soléna is not just surviving.

She’s becoming—

each tear, each word,

each prayer whispered into the night.

[krissnightsworld]

Thought It Was God, But It Was Me

There was a time I swore it was God.

The way things felt so intense, so real.

The way the connection mirrored everything I prayed for.

The way I held on, believing it was divine timing —

when all along, it was just me.

Hoping. Longing. Naming my ache as “God’s plan”

because that was easier than facing the truth:

He wasn’t the one.

I confused desire for direction.

I mistook stillness for a sign.

I gave my heart permission to hold on

because I thought letting go meant I didn’t trust God.

But now I see...

It wasn’t God that kept me waiting.

It was me —

too afraid to admit that something I wanted so badly

might not be mine.

I’ve learned something sacred in this pain:

God doesn’t whisper confusion.

He doesn’t play games with my heart.

He speaks in peace,

not in the torment I called “testing.”

So this is me now —

healing.

Unblaming God.

Understanding that not every closed chapter was punishment.

Some were rescue missions.

Some were gentle redirections

disguised as heartbreak.

I still believe in divine love.

But I no longer idolize the idea of being chosen.

I choose myself now —

with clarity. With softness. With him.

[krissnightsworld]

🩶 Healing in Pieces

They never tell you that healing doesn’t come like sunlight — all at once, bright and full.

Sometimes, it comes in whispers…

A day you wake up and don’t check their messages.

A night you sleep without tears.

A song you skip instead of drowning in.

Healing isn’t always beautiful — it’s messy, confusing, and slow.

But even broken glass reflects light.

Even the shattered can shine.

I used to think I had to be whole to be worthy.

Now I’m learning to breathe with the cracks,

To love myself mid-fall,

To say

[krissnightsworld]

5 posts!

"From writing in silence to posting with courage — 5 posts in and I'm just getting started.

#

[krissnightsworld]

The Girl Who Writes

There’s a girl.

She doesn’t speak too loudly, but her heart? It echoes through her fingertips.

She writes when she’s happy.

She writes when she’s broken.

She writes even when there are no words — only feelings that need a home.

They say, “Why do you write so much?”

And she smiles... because it’s not so much to her.

It’s survival. It’s sanctuary. It’s her way of bleeding beautifully.

Some days, her words are soft like lullabies.

Other days, they roar like thunderstorms.

But no matter what, her pen always tells the truth —

Even when her lips stay silent.

She’s not trying to impress.

She’s just trying to heal.

And maybe, just maybe… help someone else heal too.

So if you ever feel unseen, unspoken for, unheard —

Find her.

She’s the girl who writes.

And in her words,

You just might find yourself.

[krissnightsworld]

I Stopped Explaining

I’m not happy.

I’m not sad.

I’m just here—still.

Existing. Breathing. Watching life unfold without holding on too tightly.

I’ve stopped explaining.

Because how do you put into words the quiet chaos of a mind trained to survive?

I didn’t grow up asking for much.

Not because I didn’t want to—but because asking was a risk.

A risk of shame, of being turned away, of being labeled too much.

So I learned to figure things out alone.

To shrink my needs.

To silence my voice.

People wonder why I disappear.

Why I turn away.

Why I hold back.

They don’t understand that needing things—people, help, love—never felt safe for me.

So now, I let go.

Of the pressure to explain.

Of the need to always be okay.

Of trying to be heard by those who only listen when it’s convenient.

I didn’t fall out of love.

I didn’t stop caring.

I just stopped begging to be seen.

And now, I sit here—not full, not empty—just light.

Not because everything is healed…

But because I’ve finally stopped carrying what was never mine to hold.

If you come looking, I’m still here.

But I won’t try to prove my worth with words anymore.

Expect silence.

Expect honesty.

Expect peace—born not from happiness, but from surrender.

[krissnightsworld]

Title: When Speaking Is Enough

There are times when something bothers us — a situation, a thought, or even someone’s actions. We feel it weighing on us, but we hold it in. Why? Because sometimes we think,

"What’s the point of talking when the person I’d tell can’t help?"

Maybe they don’t have money. Maybe they don’t have the right words or connections. And so we choose silence.

Today, I was chatting with a friend. He had something on his mind, something bothering him. I tried to talk to him, to be there. And while we chatted, I remembered something he once told me:

“Whenever I’m going through something, I try to tell someone and he must either find a way forward or help in a way" That's what he said.

It made me pause. Because truthfully, whenever he tells me things, I sometimes feel sad… not just because of what he's going through, but because I feel powerless. I wonder what use I am if I can’t solve his problems. I’m not well-connected, I don’t have much to offer financially, and sometimes I feel like I’m not as exposed to the world as I should be to help someone else.

But today, I saw something differently.

It’s not always about giving someone a solution. Sometimes, it's simply about being there — just listening.

There’s healing in being heard.

There’s relief in letting it out.

There’s strength in simply speaking.

And I say this not just as someone who listens, but as someone who has lived it.

Sometimes I find myself in that same place — something bothering me deeply. And even though I feel like the person I want to talk to may not have the answer or anything tangible to give me, there’s always this quiet urge in me — an inner push — that says, “Speak.”

I go to someone close. Someone I trust not to laugh at my pain or call me delusional. And every time I do, even if the person can’t help financially, even if they just offer a kind word or a simple piece of advice… something shifts inside me.

It lights a spark. It lifts a weight. It brings a kind of peace.

Because once I’ve spoken, the thing that felt like a mountain starts to feel smaller. Just being heard becomes enough to breathe again.

So maybe it’s not about who can fix it.

Maybe it’s about who can listen with heart.

And maybe… that’s more powerful than we think.

So go ahead, speak. You deserve to be heard.

[krissnightsworld]

The Weight I Carry

By: Kriss | Diary Of A Deep Soul

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Sometimes, I feel like I’m carrying the world — not because I want to, but because I have to.

Being the firstborn teaches you responsibility before you even understand the word. You become the unspoken hope of the house, the bridge between silence and expectation. You learn to wear smiles like makeup, to swallow tears like pills, and to show up strong, even when your spirit is on its knees.

They look at you and see light. But light is heavy when you’re the one holding the match.

I carry questions I can’t ask, dreams I sometimes delay for others, fears I can’t afford to speak aloud. Not because I’m weak — but because I know how much depends on me being “okay.”

Yet, writing is where I exhale.

It’s where I let go.

It’s where the girl behind the “strength” gets to be soft, vulnerable, and real.

And maybe — just maybe — someone reading this understands this kind of weight.

If you do, I want you to know: You’re not alone. You’re not invisible.

And even strong people deserve rest too.

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> “Some of the heaviest burdens are the ones no one sees — but we carry them anyway, with silent grace.”

---

They see the crown,

Not the ache in my spine.

They hear the laughter,

Not the tear in each line.

But here in my words,

I finally feel seen.

---

Have you ever carried a weight you couldn't explain?

Feel free to share it in the comments — this is a safe space.

[krissnightsworld]

Dear Broken Dreamer, This Blog is for You

I don't know your name yet, but I know what it feels like to have a thousand thoughts trapped inside, screaming for a way out. I know what it's like to be the strong one—firstborn, hopeful, tired, yet still smiling. And if you’ve ever felt unseen, misunderstood, or like your heart is just too good for this world... you’re in the right place.

My name is Kriss, short for “Christ in me.”

I’m a writer, a believer, a listener.

This blog is my letter to you—yes, you—because I believe words can heal, guide, and carry people through storms.

Here, you’ll find stories. Real ones.

Poems, reflections, questions, maybe even confessions.

You’ll find strength for the days you feel weak, hope when life gets heavy, and a quiet voice that says, “You’re not alone.”

I write because life is art.

And every heartbreak, every delay, every laugh—is a brushstroke.

Together, we’ll learn how to see beauty in brokenness.

So, if you're a dreamer who's been doubting, a heart that feels too soft, a soul looking for home…

Welcome. This blog is for you.

With love,

Kriss