Decorum....

There is a ticking Time bomb inside my head! Where my soul is ripped, eternity overthrown, all thing heard! Though it might seem strangely peculiar,it has reached its full potential, but my ego must still be fed! Listen to the portrayal of a life well lived, dominated ny self inclined mysteries, it's all been said! My own inability to grasp the concept of living without loving, mmy own denial, never wanting to understand!

There is power in my hands, weakness in my eyes, destruction in my head! The novelty wears off, the wounds heal, nothing gnaws and I feel quite fine! This feeling of normality does not bring about peace, but catalyses the blow INSTEAD!!

I smurf Cold Days

I smurf cold days(smurf means love in smurfy,a smurfian dialect :)...)! Actually smurf is anthing you want it to be, but in this context it simply means LOVE!! Yes I smurf cold days,I smurf them very much! There is(to me) something calmly peculiar about cold days! The grey clouds that simply scream, "calm your ass down" when ever I feel overwhelmed.(On a cold day).I also love that people only get out when they need to, perfect time for me to be outside and afloat, and just letting the thought in thoughts of a soul that's growing an inevitable cavity be, as it should be! I smurf cold days because I get to drink as many cups of coffee as I want without feeling guilty!! So maybe I am a potential caffeine addict, I dont mind that, certainly not on my cold days!! Cold days are a very direct metaphor to me, for something pure and beautiful and serene, and quite and and and,I could honestly go on for an eternity and half a second!! Cold days are alone days for me!! I WANT TO BE ALONE WHEN IT'S COLD!! I want to mastercate the incoherency of my thoughts, I want to lose myself in the warmth of it all! I want to smile and write, and laugh like the mad person I know I'm not, but could br, maybe that I am. Yes I'll stick with maybe that I AM! I want to hum out of tune, and sing out of tune!Read a book and listen to my music!! That's what I want to do on cold days! No, I don't want to greet people, or smile at them! My hello's are for me on cold days!! ME! ME! ME! Sadly but fortunately I was not born on a cold day, I'm a spring baby, though I lack the flamboyance to reflect it,but damt it I love cold days, I don't how ever, necesarily love winter, just "winter's cold days",cold days are major catalysts for proctastinating! And yes, I procrastinate like no-ones bussiness!!one thing I have detested with an uncomprehended passion all my life, that I detest still, is when someone walks into your room, early in the (fuckin') morning and opens the curtains so the suns penetrates with unwanted arrogance into your room, and scream Wake up(bitch)!! I never get such on my cold days! NEVER! Anyway I gather I'm rumbling, but with good reason,because when you love something you just lose yourself in trying to paint a mental potrait, potraying why you have some much puppy doll love for it!!I really really really SMURF COLD DAYS, it all just makes me want to sing the Smurf song, "La La La La La La, sing a happy song, LaLaLaLaLaLa, sing it all (cold)day Long!!" :D

I have in my hand, a half empty bag with clothes I plan to throw in a trash can when I get to town. Mother is standing at the gate, with tears running a marathon down her aged face! I wish I could say I feel her pain,but I don't, . God forgive me,I don't. I've left a pile of clothes for her, I know from time to time she'll visit my old room, and hold them close to her face, smell her daughter's poignant odours of failure... She's crying hard! She breaking down! See, often than not I'd lye on Mother lap, consumed by emotion, my erros slowly devouring what ever was left of me. I've seen her bring me tea in my room with half bloody eyes, failed attemp of forced confidence. I've heard her talking with her God, begging him for chances granted,but never taken. I was her main priority, selfish gestures, considering the fact that I was not an only child!! See, the other's thrived, and yearned for martenal praise, but what could have been that, was diverted into attention for a child that needed structured walls so she would not break down, relinquish her hold from reality!! That child was me! I remember when I told mother I was leaving,through her pain, I thought I saw a glimmer of light in her eyes, no she was not happy that I was leaving. What I saw was a mother's willingness to let her child grow! Venture out into the unknown!I wore myself out of all emotion, I nolonger possesed the ability to feel!! And I knew it would eventually kill my Mother! I had to be stagnant in thought, in feeling and in action, IN SOLITUDE!! Funny though, being static meant my final walking away! Losing my identity!!! She'll cry for days on end! And pray for days on end! She won't eat for days on end! But eventually she'll start to live again, without me! And that's the best thing I can do for her! I feel heavy in myself, it has to be my weight and mine alone!! I begin walking, with the corner of my eye I see her holding her other children close to her, I smile!! That's how it should be!!

The "who" that I am

Due to an unforseen incident, that had long been in my head I was once again the centre of attention in my family! And no,it's not as bad as it sounds,only worse! I cannot go into detail right now,but,I will say this,I was in I.C.U for a very long FOUR days! All my doing!! Anyway, as a patient I was advised to see a psychologist! HAH! Who?? Me?? Dry humour I thought, and brushed it all off!! Not long after I got home,I was called into a family meeting to discuss a way forward! It was decided! I'd spent some of my days having mediocre one-sided conversations with a stranger I didn't give a rat's flippin ass about!! "So you've given up on me" I had said to my mother, my voice floating with emotional blackmail! "No you gave up on yourself, we're on your side" she had returned!! I wondered which side that was! I figured my impulisive bahaviour was not doing me any favours, crying my eye balls out when ever I thought no one was looking, whispering hush hush to my self at night, till I fell asleep! I finally gathered the courage to face it all, No mother, No gran, I will not see a psychologist! I've realised my mistakes and will not go down the same route again! I'm sorry! Forgive me! I suppose they believed me because we never bothered to talk about it again! So,yes, I'm going to hell! I made it my prerogative to lie! I did, and did it too damn well too! Because admitting your errors, and saying yes I need help, simply depicts falling into that vast cavity of submission to me! And I just refuse to submit! I refuse the labels that would be given to me, or are givven to me(what ever)! I'm quite content with the "who" that I am! Quite unhappy at being a coward, and a victim of my own instabilities! I need a bit of understanding! Fact is, I don't talk! I can't talk! I know what happens to people who talk!! And I refuse to talk!! And the irony of it all will eventually be my demise! And I don't mind it! This is my journey, and I'll go about it as I see fit( and by all means protect my family from the "who" that I am! It's not for me, its for them)! I am soo selflessly selfish!! :)!! Andi I don't understand the "who" that I am sometimes!!! It would be mighty unfair to expect understanding from others!

Old Soul...

I met a man once, met him in every aspect of the word. And though it was only virtual, it was the closest thing to reality!! He had rhythem from word go(literally),He said he was a young man with an Old man's Soul! Old Soul, I'd call him Old Soul, he'd call me Soul sister! I don't know why,I don't know how,but I opened up to him, stripped my existance naked for him to read, and he read me well! I felt understood, and known too. We'd have nocturnal telephone conversations, where I'd find my self crying, and Old Soul wiping away my tears with his words,never trying to change me, never telling me I needed help. Long after the conversation, his voice,his laughter would resound in my ears!There was nothing mediocre about what we shared! Every moment was meant to be savoured. I'd often muse at how sentimental I'd become! And I didn't caree,those rare, unique moments when, I smiled, it was genuine,REAL! Damn it, it was REAL!! And though those moments are gone,with just memory to appertise the mind, and bring back those recollections of long ago, I feel good! Nostalgia becomes that warm blanket on rainy days!And it long dawned in me that such moments are not to last a lifetime,only just a certain time, when you watch them fly, relinquish your hold, only then will you know, you willed yourself to live and grow,in the eyes of another!:).....That young man, with an Old Man's Soul!!!

Who are you?? Who am I??

So it was just an ordinary day for me, I was in my bed listen to Anthony Hamilton's "can't let go", when my phone rang. I didn't recognise the number,and the person on the other side of the line,after the lady came to terms that she had simply dialed a wrong number, she asked "Who are you?"...a few seconds passed and I hung up! Who am I? I am a twenty year old black woman? Am I really? Is that really who I am! After pondering on the question for a few minutes I just broke down in laughter, which inturn metamorphosised into an unprecedented amount of tears! I knew I was crying! I knew why! If that woman had not called I wouldnot be soaked in tears, throwing myself an unforseen pity party.After a couple of wet tissues, and a pounding head ache,I thought! I know,I'm a mess!! But that's not who I am it's what I am!! Who are you? Who am I? So I think,the woman on the other end of the line was just a catalyst to a brewing emotional war,that I'd have to fight sooner or later!! So THANK YOU WOMAN ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE LINE! Ps: this is who I am: I am a daughter, a sister, and yes I do think I am even a friend! I am Not perfect, my flaws a so deep not even a razor blade can cut through them, I'm little pieces of brokeness, and a bit unstable in the head! I am naïve and gulable, my emotions are to be my death, trust! I have an undiluted passion to die for a living! An epitome of So much that would amount to mere nothing to you! "I am a lover because I am not afraid fo my own desire to be loved" "I think there for I am" "I am indeed THE SHIT" I, Am a Poet! I am a writer!!