PARANOIA

“Make sure nobody sees the depression in your eyes. Ooh, how I wish my nose was smaller. If only I were a little bit lighter. Why did God give me this hair? Life would have been better if I had hair like Asian women. It would be soft and long and it would blow in the wind. I would be prettier if I had that hair. You’re beautiful…sometimes. Remember that mum always says that there are more beautiful women in the world. She thinks you don’t already know that. Your eyes are your best assets. Why are you only beautiful sometimes? I wish I was someone else.”

“Stop looking at me,” looking away from the mirror.

“Get out of your head, you idiot.”

“Look at her, isn’t she beautiful. I wish I was as pretty as her. No, I wish I was pretty but different. I would know how to use my beauty. She always wears so nicely. I hate her. I hate myself. If my boyfriend ended up liking her I guess I would step aside. I would pretend to understand and not be concerned then cry to myself hoping no one hears my sobs.”

“Get out of your head.”

“Why did I dream about him last night? Those emotions felt real. When I saw him walk over to me, finding me in the crowd I tried so much to hide in. He looked for me, wanted me and he gave me a red rose in front of everyone. Why did he do that? In reality he gave me cake. I swear there was no one else in the room and he looked me straight in the eye. Don’t know why there was so much noise. Why did he do that? I wish I could ask him and he tells me.” I remember the day in the swimming pool; he would dive under water and pull my leg. Why did he do that also? I thought we were playing. I tried to blow it off but he did it again and again so I thought we were playing. I laugh and move close to him."

“Don’t come near me!”

“Why did he say that? The look in his eyes, his hand held out like a traffic cop so that he makes sure I don’t come close to him. He really didn’t want me to come close to him and my chest feels tight. Tears sting my eyes. Don’t blink. Why did he push me away like that? Is it that he doesn’t want people to think he likes me? Is he ashamed to like me? I hate him. I hate myself. Sorry, I lied; I like him though I still hate myself. Wish I was someone else.”

“Get out of your head you idiot, let it go that happened a long time ago.”

“Why do I have to rely on you, lord? Why do I have to owe you anything? Life is so hard on your own, but if you rely on someone else, they will own you and they will let you down? I wish I was perfect, and then I won’t need you...or anyone for that matter. Why is it so hard to make friends? It is easy for other people. Why do I feel this way? If only I didn’t exist. I wonder how I would feel. It won’t matter because if I didn’t exist I wouldn’t feel anything. What’s my talent? We are all going to die. No one will miss me when am gone, who cares.”

“Get out of your head you idiot”

“It is a lovely day. It’s like the sun is smiling. The sky is so blue. I love the weather like this. Feel like dancing to this song. I can do this. Life is how you want it to be. He said I have beautiful eyes. Can’t stop smiling. I see a future even though there is nothing there. However, it feels like everything will be okay.”

“Dear God, I should write you a letter sometime. You created me like this. Just like this and I hope you aren’t angry with me because am difficult and stubborn by nature. My faith will waiver because you are asking a lot from me. You are asking me to trust you. I don’t think I can do that. Why did you create me with this temperament? Why was I born with tendencies of depression and suicide? The pleasures of the flesh are so sweet. Sometime I don’t think I’ll make it; to heaven that is. I hate you sometimes, like really hate you sometimes and I blame you a lot for a lot of things that are probably my fault. I wish I could see myself through someone else’s eyes, just to know what I’m working with. Why did you create me like this? Bear with me. Please, don’t send me to hell."

“Get out of your head you, you idiot!”

PUBLIC NOTICE : JE, sagging NI UNGUANA

      Hey you, ooh yes you with your ass hanging out of your trousers like a dog's tongue in a moving car. I notice you and your boys are beginning to think this common place fashion like that poor block in Tusker Project Fame whose pants looked nothing like for Will.i.am. If that was the look they were going for they should have just stopped their journey at the dressing room, but that is another rant for another day.

      Why do you think it is okay for you to sag your pants? I mean I understood the fashion in the 90s but now it is just nasty and by relation you are just nasty.Nobody want to see you nasty draws. Boy, that's your nasty business.

Gwen & Eve

      At one time girls thought that it was okay to let their thongs be seen through their trousers thanks to Gwen Stephanie but didn't all functioning fashion police stations arrest those offenders and put their booties to shame. So dear Mr. man what makes you think that it is okay for you to do the same. Some of your boys even have bigger booties that my girls and I put together and when you walk you got yourself a certain swing that is just...well...for lack of a better word...gay. Now when we see your boxers on top of that, well...nasty.

Bow Wow and Soulja boy

      I get the whole peer pressure thing and Lil'Wayne rocks that style and you may be wondering why it is okay for him and all those other hip hop artists and not for you. Well I get that dilemma and I have no response to that but let me put it this way; it is the same way we don't wear everything displayed on the fashion runways. Some things are well...again for lack of a better word...costumes only meant to be worn on a stage not on the streets.

Lil wayne

      Let me tell you how you come across with your ass in the air like the country's flag. You come across as a loser. Ooh yes! a loser. It's not fashionable and it is definitely not sexy, at all. Through that display of lack of self respect we all can see what stage of adolescence you are in. 

      Just so that am sure that I have covered all my bases, the walking style that comes with your sagging is not appealing. It is clear that you are trying to keep those pants in place so you don't find them on the ground by the time you reach your destination. Here is a tip, don't sag then you can walk properly, perhaps?

      When the habit sticks you and your boys tend to sag anything wearable under the sun, even dress pants. Boy, please! those official pants are the one thing that you shouldn't sag. Not forgetting those skinnies that ya'll have started wearing of late. You look like you are asking for something.

      Sag if you want but je, ni unguana showing us your striped, checked boxers and the way I ain't trying to see them.

Blogaddiction

I have work to do, sweet Lord I have work to do yet I can’t stop blogging. No, not an addict…okay slightly it’s not my fault; it’s all the doing of Single unsingle. It’s lunch time. There is a reason why I’m saying its lunch time and not 1.24pm. It’s because I never want to sacrifice my meals for anything. I mean, I could be on trial for murder and I would still be aware that the muislamu sang, more so then because I’m a stress eater. 

I was reading my friends blog; Lady Unmasked and she mentioned Jackson Biko’s blog so I looked it up. Shit the man can write. He had a guest writer, the Shy narcissist and shit she can write too. So there I am reading works of art and thinking…is it me or is this room a little bigger. I was just a little intimidated. Who the hell am I kidding?

I’m the kind of person who secretly toots my own horn, I mean if I was Bill Gates I probably would never get over myself. One accomplishment and I think I deserve a medal, vacation, the presidency, something. I look at my finished product and think it can’t get any better than this. Now I read Bikozulu and ShyNarcissist, one post each and I think it can get better. God is hilarious; there is always someone better than you. 

Just a thought.

FEEDBACK

You can be seating across from someone and in one of those awkward moments your eyes meet and you smile, more out of embarrassment than out of politeness and they stare at you. I mean they just stare like you did nothing and you know they saw your smile. You didn't like show him your whole dental formula and all but it was a subtle u-spread line across your lips( nothing like the joker of Dark Knight)...and the eyes ooh, the eyes smiled too and yet they just stared. Creep.

You feel so ignored, so hung out to dry in your birthday suit. You start to doubt yourself. "Was I being too forward, is it weird that I smiled, perhaps I have a third eye he can't take his eyes off of?" He's probably sitting there asking himself, "was that third-eye lady smiling at me?" Don't think am paranoid because when you find yourself in that position and in the aftermath you open your eyes like your mentally saying whoa!! Ooh!! you were mentally wondering if your third eye was busy winking at him.

I used to be that girl, that girl who looks at you in a blank stare after you smiled at her. Ooh yes! I was guilty of that crime but when it happened to me then I realized how important it is to connect. Don't get me wrong, I didn't want his number or anything nor was I looking for a conversation. I just wanted a friendly smile back and I would be well on my way. It wasn't really feedback as it was positive reinforcement but still, I wanted him to smile back because I took the effort to smile at him...damn it!

We need it, crave it, will go crazy if we put communication out there and no one is communicating back with us. The reason why I use communication is because I'm talking about anything from a gesture, to an emotion to speech, to writings. We communicate constantly and we want to know what others think, if they agree or disagree and people always agree and disagree. It's human nature, ooh sweet Lord! it's human nature...because I carried out my own experiments and I couldn't fight it. So the next time am sitting in front of you and out of embarrassment I smile at you, you better smile back or I'll will sadistically quote the Joker and ask you "Why so serious?"

It's the basis social networks were built upon. If you wrote a status update and no one commented on it, in a global village, there would be no point at all to it. You won't even feel motivated to write another.

What am trying to say is that you know when you read something or hear something there is a response in your head. That feedback is what I want you to share. Some of the most hilarious jokes were dumb stuff people said. Get that you don't have to think of a response, you already got a response, then communicate it. So the next time you read a blog post, don't just think to yourself, "that's some dumb stuff", tell somebody. Hell, tell the writer...and we promise to say thank you for your input. :-)

FUTILE WAR AGAINST AGE

I don't know but I honestly think when we are born we, at that very tender age, think that we will never get old. We suckle on our mothers breasts thinking that this is it, all that life has to offer. To tell you the truth, it never is a sour deal. She runs about worrying and stuff while we just lay back and feed and sleep and when we want something, cry.

When we are at the age of terrible two's there is only one thing on our very young minds; 'Can I play all day everyday forever?' This goes on like until we are 12 years old. If you never knew it, am telling you that those were the best days of your life. You will never, ever experience such reckless abandon like that again. You didn't realize it then because you had no other experience to compare it to, but now you do. Don't you? And you begin to realize that, that right there was the life. You didn't know much about the world and how it can be such a terrible place to live in. Ignorance is bliss, isn't it?

At 13 years of age all teenagers eat the forbidden fruit of the garden of Eden and realize that they were naked. You cover up your so called imperfections and develop a shyness. Everything in the world and everyone all of a sudden becomes very intimidating. You find it hard to look anyone in the eye. Hell, you find it hard to look your self in the eye. Ladies and gentlemen you better recognize this stage in your lives because this is when it all goes down, down, down, down- u know like that old song; moving way too fast or much too slow ohohoh. Sorry, I was lost when I started saying down hihi. From this stage it is just a treacherous journey to hell and back and to hell again and back. You think you are grown up and you know all there is to know about life and whatever you don't you think that you will just figure it out. But you aren't grown up, are you? And you have no idea what the hell you are doing and where you are going, do you? You never realize this until you are all grown up and living with the foolish, foolish mistakes that you already made.

The thing is, from age 13 you think that you will never end up like your parents. You have all this energy to take on the world and all its conditioned ways. I guess that is why they call it youthful energy. You take the world head on and fight hard and fearlessly but the world has been here longer and it is very resilient. You don't even notice that you have began to get tired. You are still drunk on that youthful energy and to you every blow is just a minor set back and you will be on your feet in no time and you probably are. I'll tell you a secret I know you hadn't yet figured out. That blow that you thought was just a minor set back was busy chipping away at your youthful energy and the frequency of those blows will eventually wear you down.

By the time you dive into the job market, you are tired. Those conditioned ways of the world that you thought made your parents zombies begin to make sense to you and for some unknown reason they begin to appeal to you. Life is so hard and such a tiresome and draining experience that you begin to accept the ways of the world. You hate yourself for folding but you are tired and all you want is for the good life to start and for the hardships to end. By the time you get married, my friend, you would have completely lost the war to age. If it makes you feel any better those that went before you lost that same battle and those behind you are doomed to that same fate.

I remeber you

I remember the first day I met you. Not the details but I remember meeting you. I remember talking to you and liking you. I remember not wanting the day to end, not wanting to say goodbye, not wanting to leave you. I just wanted you to know that I remember.

When I reminisce about those times I realize that I may have given you the wrong impression. I realize that I may have made you feel like you meant nothing to me; like you were nothing more than a passing fancy. You were a fancy, that I assure you but you did not pass. I just wanted you to know that.

The reason why I remember you is because I guess you left a lasting impression. Never have I remembered a dude's full names like this before or how he looked. There are always things I end up forgetting. Not because I want to but...I don't know. My brother calls it selective memory.

I remember never wanting to hurt you. I would have liked to have protected you...from pain I guess or...I don't know...you just made me feel this way. You made me feel like a woman; kind, calm, tender, sensitive, and protective. I just wanted you to know how much emotions you evoked in me. I know I said nothing, showed nothing and did nothing but I need you to know that I did not feel nothing; not for you anyway.

I want you to know that when I think of you I am overcome by guilt. You made me feel like a bad person. When you did all you could to reach out to me and all I did was turn away. When you showed me your heart and I just closed my eyes. I remember when you sent your friend to look for me so that when he found me you could call and we could talk on the phone. Do you remember? Well, I remember, I have never been able to forget. It's the source of my guilt. That one memory makes me feel so bad inside that I want to forget. I had so much nothing to do that I did not give you the time of day. It wasn't you, the problem, it's me. I was going through stuff and I felt like I had nothing to offer you. And when I feel inadequate I shut down. When you wrote to me that you get that I don't like you the way you like me well, I hated myself for being in that position. It wasn't that I did not like you, it's just that I...like I said, was going through...stuff.

I don't know what I miss from you. I don't know if it was the attention you gave me or the love you felt for me, if indeed that was what you felt or was it that one moment that we spoke. That one conversation that made me wish we were somewhere else so that we could waste the day wraped in each others lives. Perhaps it was the feelings I felt from that one conversation; the feeling of being calm and tender and wanting you to take care and protect me. Maybe I don't miss you at all, maybe it's the guilt that makes me think that I miss you. I really don't know exactly what this is. I just know that sometimes I miss you and alot of times I think of you and how life could have been had I not let you go.

I just wanted...needed you to know that I remember you, that I have never forgotten and that I doubt I will ever forget you.