The gag.

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funny,

My ex lover said I was selfish still, he only put himself first, second and fourth too. I could come in third but 3 is a crowd he told me once. My lover told me he had never felt the depth of attraction he felt for me. when we met, he said he was drawn to broken people. I spoke of this tale to my friends but they asked that I be more open minded, they suffocate me with their analogies but they are My small circle, a closed group.

My therapist told me he had no one to talk to about his troubles. I was in search of clarity and windows to openness so I listened. He said his daughter died from a tumour in her brain. she was a neurosurgeon. I found this hilarious so I laughed, this is how I was diagnosed with misplaced emotions.

I talk too much, I share very little.The sessions did me no good so I went to my priest. He taught me of God, his unconditional love and how he hates me for all my iniquities.  My troubles came as consequences of my sins he said. My soul was dead and satans minions had chained me to hells graves. Fortunately, there was hope for me he said. If  I walked the walls of  repentance, Graced his sheets quietly enough and stood in my truth. I had never met a more gracious fibster.

I decided, I would get rid of my troubles alone so I searched google for all the ways to set my old soul on fire. I got 27,310 matches. I realized then I wasn’t gassed enough to start a fire. I have left that fit for the arsenics.

well,

none of this has brought me clarity or pulled the lid my mind has been said to have however, I’m off to have a chit-chat with my closed friends.

I know, this wasn’t funny.

 

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Shifty.

 

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Make of this what you will.

I am grown and tired.

The chase, the guess ,inane games.

I will reiterate, please listen.

I’m too grown for this , lost my auction at assumptions gates, the will to stand shifty tides, sort through mixed signals and read between ill, faintly crafted lines. The world is moving and I must scurry along with it.

I have no room for guesses or tic tac toes on where you stand.

are you here or there?’,

this is no lovers brawl, no tug of war either. I have given enough self, I must preserve what is left for me. Regrettably, I have left too much space for your frivolities, and wished for too long that you abandon juvenile manners. Time has taught me to careless for drifty ways.

I will not read minds, poetry awaits.

I will not chase, I have given up feline ways.

I will not plead for intentionality or open honesty.

I will not bleed for trust, still, I’ll stay worthy of it.

I will not push for transparency or leap out of comfort zones to comprehend the unsteadiness of your tides.

I will not intently open my souls doors for you, still I shall not close them. I refuse to present you with the chance to betray my efforts. Again.

I will not wait to catch hints and pick up crumbs of real intent. I simply do not have the time. Frankly, I care not for wavering allies.

Come if you will, stay if wish, go if you please.

whatever you please, be intentional.

vilag.

I’m attracted to light.

in skin,cities and teas too.

I have swam in too much darkness to let my self drown there.

meh….

Everything but nothing.

Grey is the blandest colour. It doesn’t scream but isn’t drowsy either. it swings on a fence just enough to not be completely ignored. how meh, It is the blandest feeling too. Nothing  is wrong but nothings right either.

Some days, dawn comes with its party, other days it drags melancholy with it. You feel peace but you don’t quite taste happiness still, far from sadness.

My tongue doesn’t know me sometimes, other times it amazes me. how can one have everything but nothing? be so much but so little? how does one be sunlight and still carry this much gloom. Its not sadness, just gloom.

Many, many friends but still no one. Be so loved but easily discarded. usefully useless, accommodated but not accepted. alone but surrounded.

 

what is it when you feel everything but nothing?

not enough sadness to be pitied not enough happy to be noticed

oh so tastefully bland. grey.

 

heart on chords.

 

Break my heart,

stitch it together then, break me.

kiss my senses, let my members go to war.

Bring me happiness,

invade my soul, let my feet dance to your tone

body follows suits, seduction.

Give me closure,

you understand me, speak when my tongue deserts me.

this feelings I cant put in words…

euphoria, desolation, calm, turmoil, blithe…

you make me feel it all, art.

 

MUSIC

 

 

wolf and woman.


shape shifter.

There are a few things I find completely amazing.  ‘woman’ is somewhere after God and before medicine. Really, think about it. have you see anything more astounding?

Youjin Lee 이유진:

I am out  having lunch with a friend who is the epitome of a strong, independent and easily intimidating if  your man guts aren’t firmly rooted. somewhere between her oven knuckles and our almost heated debate her man friend calls. My girl goes from fire breathing to vanilla voice and wind soft. I am perplexed. I realize then that this is power gifted to us by Phanes. The  ability to change swiftly,go from fire to ice in a second. Get an attitude for a lover but bend voice, distort body, speak honey before favours are asked. Brew his Ego, butter him up, feed him mirages of power then ask what it is and receive graciously mother told me once,you must learn the art of shape shifting.

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There are brands of magic not all can experience. the art of child birth. Although it is a mans world, this one power they will never have, a brand of intimacy the male specie will never  afford. I imagine it to be a pretty bitter,sweet and scary experience. of scary things I do not write.

Jacqueline Bissett is an illustrator, expertized in Hand drawn and book illustrations:

 

Hellen of troy, the face that launched a thousand ships. 

Countries will go to war, brothers turn foes, years of friendship crumble at her feet, man loses his will, his wit, man dines with sheep. My good friend once entertained thoughts of leaving his job cos his lover fancied men of a different profession. I couldn’t fathom this for days,Some men have left wives, neglected kids and morals for  mistresses who have mastered the art of finesse. still, its a mans world they say, a moment of laughter, now silence. There is great make believe at work.  The art of finesse.

 

I have learnt, there are things one simply doesn’t get in the way of. A woman deep in love, a woman scorned, a woman with a mission, A mother fighting for her kids. A wolf watches, learns from her. similarities.

 

                                                   some days,

                                      I am more wolf than woman.

                      I am still learning to stop apologising for my wild   ~Nikita Gill.     

bougie

Overlook The City.:

I have always thought, it would be nice to live by the sea. To be sent to bed by the peaceful bustling of beach waves. Something about peace, serenity and its beauty makes me humbled.

I have dreamt of weaving through a city with bright night lights, to be wakened by croissants and butter dancing in its air at dawn. something about baking and pastries makes me think of goodness and tranquil dust.

snippets of a life that’s not mine.

 

what do you think of?

 

 

 

Nightwalkers.

when 5am meets you outside,

the birds will sing songs foreign to your ears

the cold will be so wicked your fingers grow numb from pain

your skin will reek of  cheap life.

 

remember,

this is not the life your mother wept to the gods for.

Wanderer.

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I like the word random, how it doesn’t refer to anything in particular , just something random, like thoughts and random posts. how random. There is nothing particular about this post.

I wonder sometimes if the sun  tires from shining or if the moon kisses the stars wrongly some days so they get mad at each other and have a brawl over who comes out that night.

I wonder if God ever tires of  being God, cos truly watching us wallow in our cycle of sins  must get painfully exhausting. I also have questions about God, life and heaven but I think voicing them would be blasphemy so I never ask.

I wonder why humans suffer, why peace never comes and evil seems to be on an all time best roll.

I think of how ironic it is that best friends make the best enemies .If love is the greatest gift, how is it never enough sometimes? Nothing is ever sure. Today you could be served on a Gold platter but tomorrow you’ll be serving.

I think of mothers that never see their kids grow, children that never get to have parents, people who never feel love and how much hate we have in the world. Being mean is the new cool. using another seems to be the order of the day. caring too much is the fastest way to die young, being nice is a good way to build yourself a coffin.

Here we are millennials, grown babies,living fast. How is it that the wokest of all generations seems to be the most lonely? the darnest things hit the news everyday and for a second, just a second fear for the future grips me. In these moments, I seat down and I’m  be humbled by how drastic change can be. how a second can be the difference between life and death. how a post, a like, a tweet, a new slang can trigger a whole generation.

I think about time, how precious it is, how easy it is to waste, how vexing it is when another wastes yours. I think about the complexity of emotions, anger, sadness, happiness. how do we feel them? what exactly do we feel? learned behaviour?. I think about time again and how its 3:45am now, I should be asleep, but as a millennial you already know insomnia is only for cool kids.

I think about how random these thoughts are, how I might never get answers .wanderers mind.

3am rituals.

 

 

 

 

 

Dr evil.

I was a mother once,

but the heart was young,the mind was juvenile

and the times were unkind.

 

It would have been a beauty.