KILL OR BE KILLED OR DIE RUNNING

Dear readers, I write this post with a heavy heart.

I live in Nigeria, West Africa where there are no natural disasters, where there is an abundance of vegetation and animal life, where the weather is just right and sadly where most of the people are living in limbo.

In my state, Plateau, there have been numerous killings by people, the media and government call “unknown gunmen”. We very much KNOW who they are. Recently there were some killings .  The brutality (WARNING EXTREMELY GRAPHIC AND NOT FOR THE FAINTHEARTED), was just heartbreaking and it makes me furious that this killings happened to innocent individuals.

It is not the first time that these killings are occurring. Some times we hear 2 dead, a village got attacked and 10 people were killed, blah blah blah…until the recent killings which claimed the lives of one hundred people or more.

The normal response that occurs first by the government is:

“we condemn these heinous crimes…”

“We commiserate with the victims”

After a day of two of everybody making noise, life goes back to normal…until the next killing.

Today my mum and I were at work and after a stressful day came back home. We were almost ready to sleep, trying to reboot our tired and exhausted selves only for a phone call to come in by 9:15PM (21:15)-an hour and a few minutes ago – from our neighbor to tell us that there is news of a meeting going on by herdsmen to attack our neighborhood. That is not what even angers me. What angers me the most is that most of the people living here heard about it earlier and ran away from the neighborhood with their families and left very few behind. What does that speak of us?

I go back to the title now and ask again because there is a thin line between morality and moralstupidity: “Kill or be killed or die running”.

 

 

I just needed to get this off my chest. It is not time for me to die and I know it because there is a lot left for me to do. I am also super bummed that I can’t practice my guitar tonight. Gotta keep my ears clear but I WILL practice my chinese…less noisy 😉

Night Night All! And I’ll let you know I’m alive tomorrow! Which I very much will be.

I AM WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY COUNTRY

After writing yesterday’s post I felt overwhelming guilt. I could not place why I felt so heavy…It’s very eerie that today’s daily prompt is retrospective

Was it because I got myself thinking about things that made me unhappy? Did I get emotional? It finally dawned on me why…

I was born here, this is where I have a sense of identity. Here, I have had the best and the worst times! I got my first kiss here, I had my first black eye here, I got bullied here, I beat up a boy here (don’t re-read that)…My life is here. Even if I go somewhere else, I will never be as comfortable as I am here because this is my country.

Why should I then start to post negative things about here? Because I refuse to let go of these negative things I am part of the problem. Because I write about negative things on a site with readers from different parts of the world…I am MOST definitely part of the problem.

If you think I am being hard on myself…I’ve got proof

Yep! That says it all. I am done posting negative stuff. Lord knows I don’t need a trashy life! Nu-uh.

 

A Scrambled Mind

Mum’s picture

I was in the market today and I just sat in the passenger seat looking at every single person walking on the road. I watched them and categorised them. They were mostly stereotypes. The pregnant housewife with a baby on her back, a child holding her hand and bags of groceries on the other. College girls cat walking dreaming of marriage to a rich and handsome man. Local hoodlums with cheap earpieces in their ears thinking of the drugs and alcohol and girls they’ll get later in the night; looking forward to the next robbery they’ll make.

While I was busy stereotyping, at the back of my mind I knew I was in a crowded area and hadn’t forgotten that the last bombing was not far from where I was. I thought to myself, what if the car beside me has a bomb in it? Or what if one of these people walking pulls out gun and starts firing sporadically or a hijacker enters the drivers seat and kidnaps me? Questions questions questions.

I have seen the worst in a crisis before, one time a teenager placed a really long dagger on my throat- at the time I was 12 – and asked me to pray, another time, I watched in horror as a mob pounced on a man and poured petrol on him and set him alight, I also watched  youths like me as  they ate another human being “an act done in war, they said”.

I would have thought that after witnessing all this I should be immune to fear but fear is still there. I have accepted the type of environment I am in and have adapted so much that I don’t fear death. The only thing I fear is how my death will be like.

I don’t want to die in the hands of another human being, I don’t want to die painfully… I just want a smooth passing. When I say these things to my friends they look at me like I am some sort of psycho but I will not live in self denial or close my eyes to the probabilities.

Let me not divert from the main message here though. Do I want to be a stereotype?( If death doesn’t come early) A girl who gets married eventually, secures some sort of menial job, have children, cook, clean, watch tv, eat and sleep, get grandchildren and then die?? No.

That is not what life is supposed to be like. I want to see the world, find love (not this generation’s version of love but our grandparents/great grandparents version, do something great. Not be too rich but just finding a balance.

I will not settle for normal. I will be the girl wearing a red shirt among other people wearing blue shirts. I will settle for different. Let them talk, let them say and think what they want. They aren’t me and will never be me.

Lost Offspring

In a very tiny column in today’s paper there is a notice from a parent asking his son to come for his mother’s burial. Immediately, I thought of abandonment.

This is a half fictional/realistic reconstruction from my imagination – out of many scenarios – of what might have caused this.

A bundle of joy he was for me and my wife. Tiny legs, flailing arms, loud cries, beautiful smiles, white big eyes and a very complicated digestive system; all memories none of us would ever forget. I remember the time he put his finger in the chilli sauce and proceeded to rub his eyes😱, my wife cried rain that day and my little boy… I guess all I can say is I couldn’t use the phrase “like a man”.

I watched him grow but then we had to train him so he wouldn’t have a sad life. We wanted to protect him because we loved him so much and we didn’t want any harm done to him. We were very watchful of his movements, we thought him right from wrong, we watched the people he hung around and we made sure we advised him constantly all the while giving him space to experience things and learn from his mistakes

Everything we did worked. He grew into a fine young man and we let him pursue his dreams. He had been gone for three years when we heard he was successful and married with kids. Where did we go wrong to deserve such treatment from our own child? Is it because we are illiterates or because we haven’t adapted very well to a rapidly growing world full of things that are not human but talk back to us? Huge birds that carry people in the sky?

We left him and thought that perhaps he would find his way back, maybe he was just too busy. My wife wanted to go to him and confront him because she was very hurt. I discouraged her but she went anyways. He came back to us and we met our grandchildren. But after that, we had to go pay visits. Anytime my wife went to see him, she would always come back crying. Our son treated her like a housemaid and it seemed the only time he called her was when he and his wife were travelling, so my wife could babysit.

She finally stopped going. I could see her agony and her sadness. Slowly she went into depression and got paralysed. It was not a burden on me because she was still the same beautiful, kind woman I married. My woman.

It was painful to see her go through that. I always wanted to die with her because the thought of being without her was unimaginable. She died but not before blessing our son. Up till her last days she kept praying for him. I could never understand her love; that type of love, because as far as I knew he was not my son anymore just something I produced.

I don’t think he’ll see my notice. I don’t know where he is now or how to find him but I want my wife to die in peace. If he isn’t present I can only hope the love I gave her would suffice.

This is from the perspective of good parents. I’m pretty sure some parents are cruel and that is what causes their children to forget them when they grow. But in most cases, it is the former that happens. 

The irony is, children who had bad parents want to see the good in their parents and children from good parents don’t have the time.

It is very easy to forget the ones who brought us up when we’re trying to create a life for ourselves  and to forget those who were there for us before we became successful.

Image from ripleeforensicpsych.umwblogs.org

Reasons to Celebrate 2015

I celebrate 2015 because

• I am still alive and my loved ones have not been harmed despite all the bombs that went off near us
• There’s a roof over my head
• An endless supply of cloths
• I have the luxury of choosing whether to eat roasted chicken or grilled fish, sleep on my bed or the Sitting Room sofa, disturb the ants or go swimming, watch The Mentalist or RudeTube…
• My limbs are still in two’s
• My senses work perfectly
• I still have a mother to frown at and disturb
• I still have  a father to tease about the boys that stare
• I still have a grandmother and a grandfather; which means an endless supply of blessings and prayers
• The acne has refused to go and the cold is coming which means my body still functions perfectly.
• Some people don’t like me which means there is nothing wrong with me.

The list goes on.

Image from http://www.funnypica.com

My Apologies

Hey! I just needed to apologize for my momentary absence. My colleagues and I went to shoot a movie in the forest and the Internet connection was bad! I won’t be here for a while because we’re still going back there so Happy New Year in advance.

Just hoping and praying the terrorists aren’t lurking in those forests…. Bad joke! I know. But really… I am super edgy but my mind isn’t exactly restless or anything so I know I and my crew will be back safe and sound.

I will really miss everyone’s posts 😳 sigh. Till we see again! And thank you so much Sam Rappaz for the award!

Life As I See It

CAUTIONARY ADVICE: if you’ve had a bad day, do not read this. Depending on how emotional you are, this writeup might be depressing for you and might make your day worse. Come back some other time if you wish.

Today was a sad day for many. A terrorist attack at a café in Sydney, Australia, left two dead including the gunman. I hate speaking about tragic events because it just makes me sad and downcast. But I have to because, so many people take a lot of things for granted while others are aware but choose not to SEE because they cannot face the truth. And the truth to many is brutal; one thing about it is that it may piss you off at first but it will set you free.

 Life is an endless circle. Generations come and go, but the earth lasts forever. The sun rises, and the sun sets, and then it rushes back to the place where it will rise again. The wind blows toward the south and shifts toward the north. Round and round it blows. It blows in a full circle. All streams flow into the sea but the sea is never full. The water finds it way back to the place where the streams began in order to start flowing again.

Whatever has happened before will happen again. Whatever has been done before will be done again.

People always say the world will be better and life will be good. In my own opinion, the world was, is and will always be “better”. Life IS good. Some of us fail to realise, that everything happening on earth took place before. There is nothing new under the sun.

People killed each other before; they stole and committed all sorts of crimes. When World War One occurred, victims and witnesses thought that was the end. Those of us that weren’t born yet only have archive footages and books. But we will never understand or feel the terror of those that witnessed it. That is why we think everything that is happening today is worse than events of past times.

I see everything as pointless. Everything turns out the same way for everyone. All people will share the same destiny, whether they are good or bad. And that thing is death. But I know that people who are alive have more hope than those that are dead. All of us who live know that we will die but the dead know nothing. They are gone forever. What reward is there for them? The memory of them will fade and they can’t take part in anything that happens on earth.

So what do I say for us who are all alive?

1.  Enjoy life with those we love. This is what we get for our hard work
2. Whatever presents itself for us to do, do it with all of our might because there is no knowledge, planning or skill in the grave where we’re all going

The two people that died today probably woke up thinking “o! Another beautiful day or stressful day!” It is also possible that they were not satisfied, happy, contented or at peace with themselves. They might have been planning on doing something, all the while postponing or procrastinating.

Even if people may live for many years, they should enjoy every one of them while remembering that there will be many dark days. Live boldly making sure that you put wisdom first. The clock is ticking and everyday we age.

Nothing is new. Nothing from the past is remembered. A Quote by Aristotle:

Remember that time slurs over everything, let all deeds fade, blurs all writings and kills all memories. Exempt are only those which dig into the hearts of men by love.

And in the future, those who come after us will remember nothing.

Let us remember those who were affected in today’s attack and all those who are suffering presently. It could or can be one of us. All we have is time and no one knows when it will stop ticking for us. Enjoy life; don’t die sad and miserable.

If you are thinking “o I am too old”, stop. You are never too old to do anything. You might look in the mirror and see wrinkles, sagged skin and baggy eyes but know that age is in the heart. If you feel old you will act old but if you feel young at heart you will act young. It is all about perception.

REFERENCE: The book of Ecclesiastes in the Bible.

You might not be religious but it is not wrong to study. The Bible is also a book.

Through her Innocent Eyes

The following story you are about to read is my form of research. This is the best way I can address real life issues and it works for me. It is about the terrorism in my country…Nigeria. Their brutal methods and lack of humanity.

Guns, fire, machetes, loud cries, popping sounds, blood! Blood everywhere! What is happening? I see them in their hundreds. Some are on foot while others are on bikes. They are everywhere! Where is mother and father? They said they would protect me! Where are they?!  I need them! My little brother and sister are wailing! I can’t attend to them now… I need to run.

It was peaceful this morning. I and my friends went to pluck mangoes from our neighbour’s orchard and he chased us with a very long stick. We were laughing but we still got the mangoes. They were very delicious. Daddy bought me a lollipop although mother is always against me taking sugar. They worked it out though…

O no! I can’t run. They are here. Two of them. They are dressed in dirty trousers and torn shirts. They have shawls wrapped around their necks and their heavy boots are dusty. Both of them have guns and bullets wrapped around their bodies. There are knives on their belts.

I don’t know whether to be scared or not. My hands are shaking and my sister and brother won’t stop crying. One of them go to the mattress where my siblings are. He picks my brother up. No! Mama said to take care of him! He removes his knife and…

I see blood! More blood! My feet are numb. I can’t move. I don’t understand… My brother he’s not crying anymore neither is my sister. I am half happy that the annoying noise has stopped and half scared. What does it mean?? They are about to leave but one of them brings out a matchbox and creates fire. I don’t like fire. One time I put my hand in a candle flame and it hurt. I see my mother rushing in. I want to go to her but the other one seizes her by her veil.

“We will keep this one eh…” He laughs and injures her with his knife.

There is fire everywhere… I can’t stand it. I run out of the house and into the hands of the man. My mother…she sees me. She is crying. I want to go to her. The other one slaps me! Father is the only one allowed to slap me! I beat him back but he laughs wickedly. He releases me and I run to mother.

They have put us in the back of a truck. I can’t see anything. They put a cloth around my eyes. Are we playing hide and seek? Is this a game? I don’t like this game.  The journey is long and tiring. Finally! It has stopped. My eyes hurt! The sunlight is sharp and intense. They are pushing me and mother. I see other people. Some are looking so thin. Oh my! Where is that old man’s legs… What are they doing to him. Pop! He’s lying still now. My mother… she covers my eyes.  I want to bathe, I am hungry.

It is two days now and I have not eaten or bathed. I heard mother screaming yesterday. She made me promise to close my eyes so I couldn’t see why she was screaming. When I opened them, I saw her at the corner. She was praying. Her clothes were torn and her face was bruised.

I am in a car now. I don’t know where they are taking me. It is very hot and they beat me for complaining about the Hijab they made me wear. My mother screamed as she watched me go. I don’t know why she was screaming. They said that if I did what they said, I could go home with mama back to daddy, but if I didn’t, they would make mama cry. The thing they’ve wrapped around me is poking my belly and arms. It is too heavy but I will do what they want so they can take me back home. Then I will play with my friends in the stream and steal apples from my neighbour’s orchard. Then go to school and read those books with nice little pictures in them.

I come down from the car and go to where the market stall is. They are watching me. They said to look for where people are. I see them. I see small people like me laughing. I see big people watching a football match. I see women doing their hair. O how I hate doing my hair… Boom!!!!

This is now the terrorists M.O. Using small children mostly girls as suicide bombers. I have no idea what leads to it though. This is just how I imagine it happening. This week a ten year old girl was arrested after being caught wearing a suicide vest under her Hijab.

Reality hurts.

Cockroaches, Mice and All That Crawls!

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Ready, Set, Done!.”

As it’s been a while since our last free-write… set a timer for ten minutes. Write without pause (and no edits!) until you’re out of time. Then, publish what you have (it’s your call whether or not to give the post a once-over).

I hate cockroaches with a passion. They are ugly and creepy. That moment when you’re asleep and in your dreams you hear some distant noise… Like the ruffling of papers… Not sure if ruffling is the right word.

I try to keep the house clean and free but the people next door…aargh! They’re the ones who attract them! With their dirt and disorderliness. And I have to block all the spaces with newspapers so I don’t lay my eyes on those brownish black-ish icky things. It’s worse when you come across those that have wings. The sheer HORROR!

Then there’s the Mice. We completely renovated the house after our last encounter with them – Mum and I.

We had moved in newly and my mum loves to stock up the store. We had all sorts of veggies and items in there. At one point, I noticed the potatoes looked like they’d been gnawed on. I ignored it, thinking that they were just getting bad. The chilli started decreasing and I became suspicious. We decided to clean the store one time and when we had all the items removed… Holy Moly! My eyeballs almost jumped out of their sockets. They had gathered the chilli and potatoes. The greedy little bastards! They didn’t even finish any! That night we layed a trap and around 1.00Am in the morning, I heard noises. The mouse was struggling. Next morning the thing got away. It was that big!!! We had to  raise the roof because the crawlers were coming in from next door.

And don’t get me started with spiders! They’re… Oops time’s up!

To What End?

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “All or Nothing?.”

Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.” — Sylvia Plath
Which do you find more dangerous: wanting nothing, or wanting everything?

Wanting everything is the same as wanting nothing.

As little children, we were filled with energy and curiosity. We wanted to do and be so much because everyday was a learning experience for us. We would see something new and immediately we’d want to have it. This whole cycle changes completely when we start to see the world for what it truly is. People,  just keep on living and taking whatever comes their way as each day passes by, waiting for death to take them while, others have goals that they must achieve by all means.  Some want and expect so much that it becomes an obsession. Most of these things include:

1. Chasing after money. Will there be peace? What about your happiness?

2. The desire for materialistic things. Won’t these things wear out eventually?

3. Following perfection. What about who you truly are? What happens to being comfortable in your own skin? How about self worth?

4. Comfort and pleasure. Where is the adventure? Is it healthy cocooning yourself in your comfort zone  while leaving growth and discovery wilting at your doorstep?

When that thing nobody can avoid comes which is death; Where will all these things you sacrificed so much for be? It’s not like your going to take them to the grave.

Desire is another type of hunger. The more you chase it the less full and satisfied you become. We should limit ourselves and pursue what will be beneficial to ourselves and others. Trying to have not too much of everything and too much of nothing. Focusing on what makes us happy, comfortable and full of life.

MEMORIES FROM MY CHILDHOOD: #1 THE WEIRD FRUIT

I sat down on the steps of the bungalow knotting up the hair of my Barbie doll, although, at the time it looked like I was doing something beautiful. I chose that day to wear my favorite English dress.

My grandfather brought it all the way from England for me as a birthday present. It was white and had these little rosy petals on it. I never liked to wear dresses but this particular one was quite pretty.

I hummed the nursery ryhme “Twinkle, twinkle little star” while I worked. My mother was at work and my father was… somewhere. A noise however interrupted my little project. I looked up and saw my brother and his friends riding down the slope.

They stopped in front of the house. My brother climbed off his bicycle. After ruffling my hair, he went inside to drink some water. His friends came up to me and sat on the steps.

I saw them earlier so there was no need to exchange greetings. There was no need for formality since they were my friends as well. I never got along with the girls.

My brother came out of the house wiping his mouth with his sleeve. I looked up to him, “Where are you going next?” I asked.

I could stay alone for days and wouldn’t mind but this time I felt like doing something.

“We’re going to climb those rocks over there”.

I grinned. He looked down at me narrowing his eyes

“Miriam… no”

I gave him the little kitten look. His friends all tried to persuade him.

“You know mama won’t like that”

“How? She will”. I said in a soft voice.

“Are you going like that?”

I squealed in delight and looked down at my dress. I shrugged “Yes. The rocks aren’t so high”.

He nodded and I dropped my Barbie doll on a nearby chair.

I got my little bicycle and climbed. We rode to the rocks and parked.

The rocks were not so steep but my brother and his friends made a fuss over me. Ensuring that I was in front of them; helping me maintain my balance. It annoyed me a bit but they let me come with them and I had to take that into consideration.

We reached the top and we saw a tree. It was very healthy and not too tall. There were little creamy colored things hanging from it. They looked like peaches.

We all went to the tree and our friend plucked the fruit. It had little hairs on it and appeared succulent. The whole thing made my mouth water.  He spoke, “I think I know this fruit”. He opened it easily. It had a yellowish interior with little seeds in it. We all plucked ours and went through the same process. I popped one of the seeds into my mouth and sucked it.

It had a sweet and sour taste. I liked it and so did the others. We gathered some more and carried it back down the rock. I placed mine into the little basket in front of my bicycle.

As we rode back, I started to feel a little bit uncomfortable. My brother and his friends were unusually quiet. I blinked rapidly because the road was becoming blurry.

“I feel sick,” my brother said.

His friends were all scratching parts of their bodies. Suddenly, it hit me full force. It was like millions of needles were piercing my skin. I stopped riding and started to scratch my body. I didn’t know which part was itching me. My fingers were everywhere.

It felt like time stopped and I remember running fast. Really fast. Tom and Jerry FAST. At some point our friends disappeared one after the other and it was just my brother and I.

We pulled each other. It was suddenly crab mentality… king of the hill competition.

I had no idea why we were doing that until we got home. It was a race to the shower. We just wanted some relief and we didn’t care how we got it as long as the itching stopped.

My brother and I got to the bathroom. I entered it before he did but he pulled me out and turned on the shower. I started to cry and curse him.

I felt like crying, laughing and pulling out my hair all at once. I heard my brothers frantic scratching. Water was flying everywhere.

I saw the sink and I did something I never thought I’d do. I ripped my pretty, pretty, pretty dress off. Tore it to shreds. I turned on the faucet and threw water on my body. It just wasn’t enough. I cursed my brother… “I hate you!! I hate you!!! I wish you weren’t my brother! Bloody hell!!”. Got the last curse from Ron in the Harry potter movie.

We both turned that bathroom into a swimming pool. I got so frustrated that the adrenaline rush hit me. I shoved my brother out of the shower and stayed under it. The itching continued for hours, although the cold water toned it down a bit.

My mother… “sigh”. She dealt with us. That was no fruit. It was definitely not a fruit.

Dil Pakh

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Gone, But Not Forgotten.”

I don’t even know how to start.

Dil was so…..noisy! When I was trying to sleep she’d be squawking and that isn’t all. See that beak, it was sharp and she pretty much knew it was. She bit me with it! 😱 several times!

She’s certainly not forgotten.

”acting like a bunch of teenagers”

This phrase does not sit right with me at all. What exactly, would whoever came up with the phrase, define the word “teenager” as?

In the Advanced Oxford Learners dictionary, the word teenager is defined as a person who is between the ages of 13 and 19.

There are three kinds of people in the world; the good, the, in my own words, in-betweens and the bad. We all belong to one of the afore-mentioned categories. Whichever category we belong to, we cannot dispute the fact that we all exhibit the same traits, namely: jealousy, anger, envy, sadness, happiness, indifference, mood swings, etc.   Another fact is, drinking, smoking and partying is what almost everyone does. So why sum up what people of different age groups do and restrict it to a specific group of individuals?

What is the difference between a high school party, a sorority/freshman/college party and a cocktail party? I have one answer for that. Make-believe.

Adults, looking elegant and regal in their long gowns, polished shoes and recently bought/retrieved from the dark corner of the closet suits, walk down the rented hall or polished corridor of their friend/boss’s home trying to show co-workers/friends/strangers that they are better and richer. Excusing themselves and heading over to restrooms so they can re-touch their make-up and search for the right expression which will be used later on to fool others who are equally doing the same thing.

Teenagers, dressed in T-shirts, faded jeans, spaghetti tops, mini skirts, shorts, run around the crowded house. Bobbing their heads to music blaring from the speakers. Screaming at the top of their lungs. Boys looking for a way to get laid and girls wanting to get rid of the branded name that causes them so much embarassment. In one word “Virgin”. Both sexes getting drunk and high.

The fact is, in my opinion, some adults and teenagers have identical thoughts in their minds. Most of which are  sex, drugs and money.  Examples of where we can find most of these pretentious people, showing their true selves are in Nigeria’s capital Abuja and Lagos, the commercial hub of Nigeria. For those in the USA,the city of lights- Las Vegas., the big apple-New York and the nation’s capital, Washington DC.

Basically, for the sake of this article, there are two kinds of people on earth: the responsible and the irresponsible. So adults please stop trying to pin a particular trait on a selected age group. I say out with “acting like a bunch of teenagers”

If people still want to use it,  I might as well bring up one of mine “a bunch of destructive, immoral and pretentious adults”

Of course it wouldn’t make sense, since we all exhibit those traits. Therefore, Irrespective of our gender, age group and social status, we should all behave with decorum while enjoying the world too.  And for all you party freaks, please, by all means party!! but don’t loose yourselves. Bad things happen when you do.

Short films are boring????

Just Wanted To Say…

via KILL OR BE KILLED OR DIE RUNNING

I’m still ALIIIIVVVE!! Thank God!

Photo by Sebastian Voortman on Pexels.com

DEAR X-FRIEND

 

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

I am sorry I told you and only you my secrets,

I am sorry I was selfless towards you,

I am sorry I put you before others,

I am sorry I that you were the most important person to me outside my family,

I am sorry I always understood you,

I am sorry I always stood up for you,

I am sorry to have made a difference in your life,

I am sorry I made you a stronger person than you were,

I am sorry I gave you reasons to never hate me…until now.

THE ENEMY WITHIN ME

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer”…

The enemy is already close!

In fact, it is within me,

The enemy within me always has a voice,

Constantly judging, questioning, doubting,

It never stops telling me how untalented I am,

How I will never achieve my goals because of that never-ending ticking,

How insignificant I am among the multitudes,

How unlucky I am because of my birthplace,

How unattractive I am because of my spots.

When bad habits surface, it is conveniently positive.

It finally gives me space and room to breathe

So much so that I want to always be in that place,

A place that might seal  my…no…that WILL seal my fate.

The enemy within me…

Is that enemy really within me or is the enemy me?

Rhetorical…

It is obvious what the answer to that is.

 

TO BE OR NOT TO BE

Photo by Jasmine Wallace on Pexels.com

What is marriage? 

From what I am told, it is a lifelong commitment. It is a new world in which one needs to adapt to. It is a place of tolerance, commitment, sharing, patience…..then why is my mind going TSK TSK TSK?!!

I’ll tell you why…its because marriage has become a necessity to BELONG. People go “yes everybody is doing it, I am the odd one out so let me find a person to get married to. I know that there is nothing like the IDEAL marriage because there is bound to be conflicts here and there however, what happened to RESPECT?

I overheard a conversation today where a man I know was planning a get together with his friends. They told him to get girls because the party would not be JAMMING without girls. Mind you they are all married men. All of them and their marriages are young…at least to me – the maximum is 11 years. One in all seriousness said “I’ll tell my wife I have to travel for an emergency meeting”.

I guess there is that thing where one does not want to feel old, or perhaps the other wants to impress his friends…he might just play along and not do anything with the girls -who by the way are being ordered; you could compare the order to placing an order for pizza – but the way they all spoke showed lack of RESPECT for their marriages! I don’t want to be judgmental; like I said some might just want to impress their friends but why keep those type of friends in the first place? Their behavior is bound to rub off one way or the other.

Anyway before I veer off, I just have jitters because at 22, I am already of marriageable age and I am mostly wary of what marriages have become.

 

BROKE ‘N’

Living in a place:

Where corruption is a way of life,

Where a bribe is exchanged for security, identity and shelter,

Where people who work for hours earn less than those pot-bellied fools who bark out orders sitting on their asses all day,

They are supposed to work for the people, yet they care about themselves only. Sending their children out of the country because the educational system they are supposed to maintain is ****  leaving the middle class students to spend years in the cesspool…

This is not a negative for me…I am not BROKEN, I am in fact inspired… Why?

Because Improvisation becomes my middle name

Because my middle name leads me to be creative

Because my creativity gives me great ideas

Those ideas are what I am exploring daily…with the internet of course and online classes. Only thing is…I am…..

…..SO BROKE.

Because in  my country the internet providers are corrupt! We will survive. I believe in my beautiful country.

Broken“>

A Eulogy for Penny

This was saved in my draft and I read and re-read but I can’t remember what I was writing about.

I  must deal with the fact that one day I will have to let you go. That I will leave you dry, cold, dusty and alone. That your home will be in the attic or basement inside  boxes blanketed in spider webs.

The irony of loving you completely and irrevocably but still abandoning you is difficult for my mind to process.

At this point, thought completely exceeds me because everything is moving at a rapid pace. There are so many external forces made of steel, light and wires that are beyond my control.

My body loves being pampered even if it will lead to some form of paralysis, it does not care so much.

Your memories will always be with me though. I will still remember how it felt to hold you and keep you warm.

I will always remember that giddy feeling when you voiced my thoughts with your scratchy accent.

You are the only one who knows and keeps my secrets. I will always love you for being my companion, my closest friend and ally.

It is sad that you will be kept in a transparent glass box for all to see and that your impact and importance will be forgotten as the next few generations pass on… into the void.

Goodbye my trustworthy lover.

POSTING AFTER…DON’T KNOW HOW LONG…

Hi all!

I will go straight to the point. I procrastinated and it hit me big time! Something about procrastination is that by the time everything piles up you just don’t want to do anything at all and my procrastination came from me not being able to say NO!

The thing about the P word is that you just have to get up and do it! As easy as that sounds it is most definitely not easy! It’s like you’re fighting a never ending war between the mind and the body. And it’s funny because the mind controls the body!

I am getting out of that place and it sure as hell ain’t easy but I just have to do it. I have stopped doing too many things now and have focused on what truly makes me happy and that is MUSIC.

Sometimes I tell myself I am  too old now – 22 years old…but I believe that is what I told myself at 18 and wasted 4 years of not actually just doing it and practicing the instruments. I kept discouraging myself by saying things like “its a pity you discovered your passion too late” and “18…sigh…..19….deep breath sigh…20…..tsk tsk tsk sigh, 21…pfft sight”….now i’m 22 and the thought is still there but I have decided to just do it. Lets see if I can achieve that dream.

And to all my followers…apologies for giving in to my procrastination.

 

Friendship Feels

Just friends🤓

One of the greatest things that life gifts you is friendship. 

Once you get a true friend…a heavy heart becomes as light as a feather.  

A tear never completes its journey. The trail ends abruptly due to a light touch.  

Tomorrow feels bright and colorful. 

Happiness becomes you and you become an example of life’s greatest rebirths.