The birth of virtual reclusion

Today was the first day in a while that I managed to talk myself into doing a little more than wallow and wonder in my everyday dooms-day pessimism. It should’ve been easy enough seeing that I took only two weeks to mentally prepare to start my sister’s 06:30 bootcamp class. Even with the prior notice I tried everything to get myself to come up with an excuse to not go. I couldn’t claim oversleeping because I was awake when she left. That’s right, wide awake from having taken Nasa for a puppy walk to pee. Little traitor!. I watched her stumble playing with a sock-ball-thing we made. 

Maybe blame the car … fuel - it is Zimbabwe after all. Nope, too lame. This was something I signed up for so if I was going to miss my first day, then I damn well come up with something a whole lot better. I rolled my eyes and I stood with a huff.

I took a deep breathe and padded to the room with my clothes, still mulling over a possible good excuse to use. I slipped into workout pants, a workout top and my old company’s branded sweater. I’m glad that it was going to be rubbed up in mud and dust, maybe add in a few branches or fire. Yeah right. In any case, the prospect that Willi (ex-boss) would find out about this and turn into a red lollipop with smoke coming out his ears cheered me up. How dare I use such a nice sweater he paid for to a work out session? Oh but I do dare. I smiled in a maleficent fashion as I headed to the kitchen for a water bottle. I sat behind the wheel of my car trying to will one more brilliant excuse out of me, now or never... there was no turning back once the car starts. Useless mind.

The drive was quick and painless, a lot cold but painless otherwise. I don’t know what I was expecting, it was a mere 5min drive in really bad traffic. Stalling much? The earlier class seemed to be winding down as I arrived. I knew that moment that this was both great and really bad. I know I hadn’t worked out in a very long time, my poor lungs. Poor body, it was good knowing you.

There’s a place in my mind I have always found when I work out. Its a cozy cafe for thought. Plenty a thought I possess so it never really gets dull. I pushed through my high-plank. I knew whoever came up with this exercise was definitely going to heaven with the way I cursed them and a family member of theirs out, as my arms shook under the strain. 

My life was and currently is under great scrutiny and review. As a bonus, I added an audit I hate tricep-dips! 9,...10, ... It almost feels like it always is under some self...What? judgement? Bias? Introspection? I decided not to go there, I had to concentrate, the sit-ups that I had moved to were trying to kill me. I’m shell shocked at myself for keeping myself on my own toes with all this randomness. Pffffft

I wished my life could be like what this class was giving me. Thoughtless repetitive movement that do wonders for my body and heart. All I had to do was stick with it. I tried that for six years and I came back with is a broken heart and dissatisfaction with the script that the world was forcing my life into. Imagine that? Life broke my heart. Ughhhhhh….stupid running trail. My lungs were burning, but at least I was feeling something. Tears brimmed and spilled over my eyelids involuntarily. Gosh what mess. I am...I am.. What am I? in pain? crying at my sister’s bootcamp is what I am…i turned away from everyone, embarrassed. I didn't care too much after that initial second though because it had been a while. I felt

Alone

How many times have you heard this?

Friend: what are you doing?
You: oh nothing just at home.
Friend: ALONE!??

Its amazing how many people fear being alone. How the thought of spending time with ourselves is a trigger for panic. We sit with ourselves unable to fathom the idea of ever being alone for a few hours without doing anything. Its okay to be alone when getting your hair done or watching a movie, doing nails or reading a book. But all alone with our thoughts and feelings is just a thing as scary as watching Friday the 13th on Friday the 13th.

The problem for most with being alone is the fact that we have to entertain ourselves with our own thoughts but because we carry heavy coats of regret or envy its just too tough. Besides, its much easier to surround yourselves with people who talk about nothing while getting drunk so our minds are too impaired to even function well. That state of being surrounded can build an illusion that everyone around us likes us enough. I guess that makes us feel special?

What's worse now, with the connectivity, we have something to keep ourselves occupied. Boredom is easier to avoid because if the worst comes to the worst we face-stalk, follow and unfollow, friend and unfriendly, like and unlike  people we've never met. As my favorite person in the world right now - Alan - said "there is a problem if you stare into a screen all day pressing buttons"

Its like there is a need to not be accountable for things we did or to admit to things we failed to do. The idea if looking closely and deeply into the person we were and have become is much like looking into the mouth of a hungry bear. We fear ourselves. We don't like ourselves enough to be able to be by ourselves. The gauge of how special we are to ourselves seems to be tied to the number of people around us - regardless how insignificant they impact our lives. There is a lack of love for self. We live life hunting for compliments and dressing to be noticed, buying things we can't afford and definitely don't need just for the sake of fitting into a world that barely recognizes as anything more than just a drop of water in an ocean. Its like being special by association rather than just being special.

Maybe that is human nature. We are a species that was created in pairs (according to the Bible) and strive in communities. Human existence has never been of one man alone. I have to say though that the need for approval from everyone but ourselves is a troubling feeling for me, its hard for me to think humanity has come to this kind of existence.

If I have one aspiration in my life, is to find inner peace and do better with self love. I've never been one to worry what people think or dress in anyway other than to be comfortable. But I do know I need time for retrospection and reconnaissance. I guess I just figured out what I want for my birthday.

To anyone who reads this I say to you. "You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars, you have a right to be here" - desiderata

Be gentle with yourselves. Smile for you are alive!

Winter time

There is nothing worse in the world than waking a black African lesbian woman and have her confused.  Its a dramatic event and it occurred this morning

The following takes place between 06:37 - 06:47am.
Events occur in real-time.

I was minding my own business, sleeping away like normal people do. My dreams were a blank black blanket of nothingness. All was well in my subconscious mind. In an instant, my eyes opened and noticed streaks of sunlight coming through my living room windows. Its morning, I thought in affirmation. Duh! Thanks Einstein for stating the obvious, I rattled to myself.

The ticking of the wall clock caught my senses and I glanced up at it. 07:37am it said. Great - its almost 08:00, I thought. I imagined my girlfriend would be late for work, we were up until very late, practically slept this morning. I know she's a sleeper and really doesn't do well with short periods of sleep. It dawned on me that I have to wake her or at least check if she's awake.

I realised she was my second thought this morning after that Einstein moment. I better not tell her that. Its more romantic that she believes she's always my first thought. I reached for my tablet, clicked the WhatsApp icon and a second later it was on my screen. In the corner the time read 06:42am.

What the fuck!? I thought as I glanced up to my wall clock again, 07:42am. "Oh God, time is confused! What is the world going to do? We're going to be late for work, the markets will collapse and I'll turn 29 an hour late! Or early! Will I ever know the time again?" My pleas echoed in my mind as I kept checking both clocks.

I remembered the wall clock uses batteries. Maybe it sped up? Or stopped, god forbid my clock stopped for a whole hour during the night! I watch it closely to make sure it was moving. Okay, it is moving. *sigh of relief* "Then...what the fuck is going on!?"  I checked the tablet again. 4bars of cellular network, 58% battery, time - 06:45am. I'm soooo confused!! Maybe I slept and missed a whole day!? What's the date today?

I run my fingers through my hair. There has to be an explanation I thought. Could the earth have changed direction on the axis? Surely that would explain the two timezones in my living room! Maybe I should have slept in my bed! Wouldn't that be something! Joan stop! Think!

I took a long controlled breathe. Okay, let's trace back my subconscious prints, I urged myself. Okay I slept. REM. Sleep. Orexin. Sleep inertia. Focus, focus Joan. What in the world would make the world have two timezones in one place?

Oh shit! Winter Time!

The Airport: Part 2

There is an air in airports, a shimmering anticipation just under the surface. Excitement to leave, excitement to receive the people who are coming in.

This time though there was also an air of regret and sadness. It was too early in the morning and the place seemed a little deserted. I was emotional, grumpy, a 7am flight meant check in was at 5am and that meant we had to be up at 3:00am. The Namibian airport is located a whooping 37km out in the middle of no where with really tricky roads. A round of applause for great planning. Are all airports that far off?

We walked into the airport like veterans, we knew what we were doing. Stood in the check in line cracking shitty jokes to each other in comfort. 15minutes later we realised we were actually in the wrong queue! We strolled casually to the right counter and once settled in, we realised my skirt had ripped. A few tourists were waiting just ahead of us, one kept looking back at us as if we had apple trees growing from our noses! A young man stood next to us, looking confident and quite awake. Ahead of him a cute toddler in her socks, her mother and her infant brother or sister. She was impatient, I bet wondering when she'd be able to watch Barney.

20 minutes later, we got her checked in and had an hour to kill which we spent sitting closely together at the sitting area. Non of the airport shops were open there were no announcements whatsoever for the flights boarding. While we passed comments about that a woman started screaming into the microphone that the first flight was leaving. I apologized to her, I didn't know why she was pissed but I surely didn't want to be at the end of that rage!

We visited the ladies room and as usual I was quick to finish my business then watched my girlfriend fiddling with her hair for minutes. She gained the audience of an airport employee who watched her the whole time through the mirror. Next thing was like a mini dress competition. When my girlfriend checked her lipstick, airport lady plastered a few layers of hers then - as if to win the contest - she drew on her eyebrows and sprayed on her perfume! Take that baby! Lol

We returned to the waiting area and not a minute later, a woman walked by wearing a cloth on her head like a head scarf of sorts. In my confusion of the dress style, i involuntary stared, trying to figure out if she was Muslim or just rocking the African early morning look. In my contemplation I realised everyone around me was also starring. I rumbled in laughter, I realised it was that awkward moment when even she wasn't sure of herself because of the starring. She made it though without tripping or blatantly falling flat on her face.

A gentler woman announced the flight boarding for my girlfriend's flight. We walked ever so slowly to the doors and stood there a little awkwardly trying to delay the inevitable. I tried to decide if I should I should make it a Titanic moment or another lesbian movie that ends in heartbreak. I ignored both thoughts. Finally we exchanged a tight hug and pouty looks. I kissed her and said goodbye. I watched her walk away in slight slow motion...

As soon I settled back in the car I had just about one thought. When the hell will she be back?

The Airport: Part 1

There is an air in airports, a shimmering anticipation just under the surface. Excitement to leave, excitement to receive the people who are coming in.

Because of my time miss management I arrived there way too early - humanly impossible to always be this early - but i was. I sat there whole time watching the people around. The Namibian airport is very small, you can practically shout in the departure area and the arrivals would run back to their planes. There was a group of Europeans sitting together, speaking their English with thick accents. Proud of their endeavors in the Namibian wilderness. One said he saw a rhinoceros, I roll my eyes. Rhinoceros are our pets lol. Europeans because they think khakhis are the African safari fashion, Oversized hats and sunburnt skin. In case anyone wonders, they are coming from Namibia, the hot African sun has tamed their pale skin and they survived. Applause.

Just in front of the gates is a large number of drivers with poorly written boards with names misspelt.

There is a cleaner, walking around with a broom and mop, both hands simultaneously working. It made me wonder if kung fu wasn't really invented in Africa. A wrist roll and the broom swoops up the dirt and right after the gentle caress of the mop, she looks unfazed like it is just another practice session. I wonder what she'd look like in action. The automated doors open and my heart jumps, every time. I should be calmer I think. I'm cool. Regardless I wait slightly impatiently for her to walk through those doors, nervous for her and nervous for me.

I glance at the clock at the boards, I assume it wasn't working or God decided today was his April fools because ever glance would only be two minutes past. I realised I had a whole two hours to practise my ice breaker. What did the chicken say to the dog? No no that's too stupid. I try to think of something witty, along the lines of "would you like to touch my tattoos?"

Sooner than I could decide on the best route, I'm joined by an old elderly couple who wear permanent frowns even when they are smiling. The woman was watching two toddlers running around barefoot. I could imagine the kind of scolding the parents were receiving in her head. I realised I'm nervous. More than I should be. I've known this woman a while now - surely...

Well 23minutes until arrival, I take a deep breathe and shook my nerves away. Or did I? Her flight has landed! Oh shit the door is opening...

Dear diary,

I'm not a fan of self help books, I never have been. I find it rather annoying to have a book of reference as if everyone deals with situations the same way. The titles are much worse "How to make any girl fall in love with you" or "How to live a fulfilling life". Yeah okay, I'll pass but thank you.

I think I may need one of those books though. " How to keep your cool when you meet a girl you like!"

I honestly feel so comfortable or maybe too comfortable talking to her. Its all so natural that the first thing I do now when I wake is want to call or text or  check for a voice note or listen to any old ones. It used to be coffee, now its her voice. "Insert eye roll here* Its a very intoxicating and scary thing when your world is unraveled so quickly that everything seems more natural knowing she's there than when she's not.

I guess you have already figured out that I met someone. This may be the first time I have written about a woman whom is currently in my life. Maybe that's a good sign.

I laugh a lot when we speak, I'm not sure if it because she force fed  me a bucket of butterflies or that she's truly a person that can make me laugh. Either way, I'll take it.

The stupidity that comes with these feelings are the worst. I feel like a teenager in a sense but well.

I guess at the end of it all, it will be up to Her and I to figure out if we can  work. Its not everyday that I meet someone who sparks and captures my interest so I guess that means I'm in.

I am aware of my silent fans and the vocal ones. I'm hoping you are nice people but maybe some of you aren't and that's okay. There's nothing anyone can do in this case but perhaps if you'd wish me luck with this?

Joan

+One

I have never met her, i didn't even know her name. I only know her from the daughter she gave birth to and the grandchild she has. I only know her from stories i hear and things she said. Oral tradition which allows me to see her as the beautiful woman she once was.

Technically i shouldn't be this upset but i am. Another fallen angel because of stupid Ovarian cancer. Problem is it is just too close to home. Its almost like i go through the motions again as tears try to sip out of my eyes. I have no describable emotions just a void in my heart filled with sadness, lined by memories. Again i exclaim that i stand with the millions + one.

the millions that have passed, the millions that are diagnosed and the millions that will pass, plus one - who is my mom and now one more - the woman i will never really know.

















RIP

Valentine's day

Dear diary

I guess I have been pondering on the amount of times I have loved deeply. I probably should start with my "first" love which in retrospect could have been just an innocent teenage love affair with my best friend. We didn't talk deeper than music and sing together. Then, at 13, that was more than enough. That's all I needed and she gave me so much more, an extra piece of chicken when we were in the dining hall, that extra hug.

When I really think of it, I really am combing for my best friend because that's who I would want to share my life with. The girl who understands my need for intimacy without thinking its needy, one who gets that time together is a way to feed my old soul. Who gets my artistic quirks which I assume can be rather annoying. A cuddler - I don't know how to stress that point! Its a need! My cuddle addiction is so bad that my profile on the dating site starts with "Hi, I'm Joan and I'm a cuddler" !

I am a hopeless romantic and love to love hard and mostly ready to fall hard. I'm not willing to go through the new age motions of fuck buddies and like relationships. Its tricky looking for a best friend instead of love. Shouldn't it be the opposite? No point now, thanks to you TP for that standard you set.

I remember my first Valentine's, she got me a perfume with a rose. Creamed my little heart into a puddle! I don't believe in Valentine's day,not really, but since everyone is on being romantic that day I didn't want her to feel left out so I wrote her a song. *insert eye roll here* . I even sang it to her on the piano.

Now, almost 30, I barely have the guts to say hello to a woman. I smile, look a little - well cause I'm too cool I don't want to seem like I'm staring lol. For this Valentine's, I guess I caught a break, I won't need to do anything since you - whoever you are - are still being all cryptic and hiding from me!

But I won't be too much of a party pooper. For all you couples out there, even if you are like me and don't believe in the day, buy her chocolate, watch that game with him. Romance is not for one day, definitely not, but it just is good to recognise that someone out there is like us, made a day to celebrate love and romance. Maybe for those that have less expressive partners, its a great idea to have a day you can look forward to.

Love is meant to be celebrated, today, tomorrow - the 14th of February. Doesn't matter really, as long as when you are in love, you Love the best way you know how.

Happy Valentine's Day

Killing Yourself to Live

Dear Diary

I thought i would be able to introduce my thoughts on this book but i guess not quite yet. I'll leave you to ponder this for now.


“We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It's easy. The first girl I ever loved was someone I knew in sixth grade. Her name was Missy; we talked about horses. The last girl I love will be someone I haven't even met yet, probably. They all count. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these loveable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.” 
― Chuck Klosterman, Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story

Dear Diary

So i know i haven't written in a while, i think i needed the time to become undone. I spent most of it trying to work on the book. Yep, i am writing a book - or supposed to be.

Anyway, one early evening not so long ago, i sat with...well - lets just call her a friend - Lady. We were in some sort of intoxicated state that made us feel real intelligent and world class philosophers of sorts. We decided the world order had to be unraveled, and pin-point the actual reason that we live. Bear with me here and try keep up with this mouthful as i try to decipher it.

Lets begin on the soul and the theory that souls do not in fact die, they sort of move in a constant circular motion (reincarnation). However, for the soul to "rest" there then has to be a state of shall i say euphoria that will then put the soul in an enlightened state, which needn't need the soul to keep 'reincarnating'.

This somewhat connected to yin&yang, the perfect state of balance. Lady came up with an ideology that yin&yang are two souls, that meet and create a balance. I echoed with the Christian story of Noah & the arc in which the animals were always paired in 2s for balance, for the yin&yang purpose.

Balance = the state of paired souls = soulmates. 

The correct pairing of souls would then bring the living state of euphoria - which is that thing called True-Love. That boiled the whole discovery to one truth: The real reason for living is to love wholly. Not to just love anyone, but that ONE.

That, at the time, was cause for high-fives, mic-drops, happy-dances and cocky-nods between the two of us. We'd just unravelled God's plan. We were thinking "We know what you're up to". We had completely discovered the reason we came to be. Just a giant science project testing the ability of True Love's power of attraction within all and sundry living souls on earth.

Since this great new discovery of life's purpose, i have been acutely aware of my aloneness. Then the question of why i have always thought of myself as the last of my kind was somewhat answered. Can I say I know the reason my soul has been on earth for the last, I don't know, 100 years maybe?  I discovered that i am incapable of taking relationships lightly. Even my attraction to women seems pretty complicated to the normal human. I'm attracted to a person from the inside out. The more real, grounded, intelligent, kind, warm, compassionate, etc. they are - the sexier they become. So there goes my aspired one-nighters and casual relationships. I'm totally screwed it seems.

The next problem is this extreme introverted state i fall into when i am single. I just cannot seem to sum up the same interest to socialise as the normal human when i am unpaired. I prefer reading a book, working on my tattoos, having a glass of wine on the balcony watching the sunset. Unlike everyone else, I spend more time within myself instead of out there on the streets like everyone else yelling "My One!" so maybe she can maybe hurry the fuck up and we live happily ever after already!

So my journey to euphoria is still on. It would be a load of bollocks to say that my awareness makes it easy for an introverted queen like me, but perhaps if you'd wish me luck?


Joan

Strangers' Lives

There’s something fascinating about public transport. Not to say the public transport is perfect, certainly not in the streets of Windhoek, the taxis are the most road rage initiating machines. I often find myself screaming the most ungodly things in foreign languages, as if. I think its mostly to make a point to myself than to the driver of the other vehicle – well considering the windows are most often than not closed and the radio is probably playing one of my songs when I am behind the wheel.

There’s a glimpse into a stranger’s life with every 20-minute ride I endure to and from work in public transport. The older woman who sat in front of my seat this morning as I rode to work is definitely a highlight. I watched her from the side mirrors as she made her way to, I’d guess work at 7am. Maybe from work, I couldn’t be sure. She wore a blue tracksuit hugging her body and on top of her well saturated weave which looked like it was flashed down an oil pipe was a read woolen hat that sat clumsily to accompany her seemingly satisfied face.

She dug into something on her lap then she quickly stuffed it into her mouth, chewing while she glanced at the sites outside of her window. An early mind blowing greasy delicious no good for nothing breakfast. That is the only way I would explain her reaction to the food she ate. There is only two things that could make a grown woman stuff the whole length of her fingers in their mouth and that either something to do with for play or those little foods that they tell us again and again are mind blowing greasy delicious no good for nothing foods.

I suppressed a giggle so as to not appear rude when I realized the song playing in my head phones was Silk’s Freak me. I have to say it’s a little freaky when you are listening to a sexual song while someone literally ran her fingers in her mouth living them all wet. I shuddered at the inappropriate thought.

Another highlight, a few weeks back, I had another encounter with a man. I had a long day at work and I had a book I was reading that had reached its peak. I couldn’t wait to get home to read so I whipped it out and found my page quickly then transported into the story. Made sure my characters look returned to me then saturated myself in the word. The man who sat beside me started leaning into me – in my personal space might I add – and he started reading with me. I didn’t know weather to nudge him back to his side of his seat or just close my really good book until I get home. While I was contemplating my options he turned to me, his breathe making it to my face. I suppressed a gag.

“What did Peter do?” He asked

Shocked I looked at him as if he were a rare species. How dare he ask about Peter!? He was my character in MY book! I was possessive it seemed and hated sharing my characters with strangers. He had no idea how pissed and annoyed he made me. I brushed him off with a simple “it’s a long story” and thanked god as the taxi pulled at my stop.

I didn’t appreciate it then, maybe I still wouldn’t enjoy either meetings again but those little things I would be able to talk about with my grand kids at one point or another that made 2016 quite a year.

We cant all be the same, thank goodness, but is that not what make life worth living?

Conversations Within

'Hello Joan, I'm glad you could make it into therapy today'

I smiled as I entered the room, looking around to the familiar surroundings. The white walls, a green plant in the corner of the office, the fish bowl with no fish sitting right beside it. It was like an added irony to the therapy room. There was a painting above the sofa, I looked at it as if in a trance, I still couldn't make out what it was. I frowned at my continued frustration to decipher it.

I figured it had to be a happy piece, only because of the reds and oranges that were splattered around the canvas. What was it with therapists and their rooms? The need to make everything clean, spotless. I supposed it was some doctor code.

'would you like to sit?' She said snapping me back to reality. I looked at her and nodded then sat on the couch facing her. I looked at my therapist, her face was framed by her large reading glasses. She tried to smile to reassure me. She didn't need to, her eyes were gentle. She had that face.

'So how was your day today?' She asked kindly. Small talk was always the beginning of the session. I was accustomed to it. I had a pre-prepared answer.

'It was okay,' I said simply then shrugged. Was there more to say? What was I doing in this place? Am I traumatized? Depressed? In need of someone to talk to? Maybe it was because she had that face. I smiled to myself at my sense of humor.

'Just okay? She looked deep into my eyes. I shrugged again not wanting to repeat myself. She understood and nodded. She looked down at the pad on her lap before she scribbled a note quickly. Looking up to me she tilted her head and took a deep breathe. Was she frustrated with me? My lack of trying.

'It was another day Doc, nothing eventful I'm afraid.' I added before she thought of another question to throw across the room to me. I was aware of her ability to question me to get to the "problem within". What if I didn't have a problem and my day was just a day? What if my visits were just for conversation?

'Have you gone out lately?' She asked trying to lighten the subject.

'Well, I go out everyday. I have a job you know.' I snapped back quickly with a smirk. I was pleased with myself for outsmarting the doctor in the room.

'I mean somewhere else other than work.' she said gently not taking offence to my my smartass nature. I looked at her, at that face.

'No, Not really' I replied and let my eyes wonder around the room. The desk she placed in the corner had a glass top and white horn like leg support. Now that was a masterpiece unlike the art on the wall. I decided her taste was weird but then again no "normal" person would opt to listen to crazy ramblings for a living. I slowly peeled my eyes from the desk and back to her. She had been watching me. I looked at her questioning. I wondered what she thought of me. I was pretty sure I wasn't the weirdest person she saw today. The thought made me feel better about myself.

'Why?'she asked again in her friendly therapy voice

'because-' I stopped myself. I didn't have an answer really except the very ridiculous reason that I knew would probably make her roll the eyes within her eyes. I shook my head at the thought, she was the doctor, a therapist for that matter. Weird wasn't really something I needed to worry about. I was sure she's heard it all. '...because I'm bored with people.' I finished my sentence slowly, looking at her in search for a reaction, any reaction would have worked.

'What do you mean?' I took a deep breathe and looked at her poker face. Should I really answer the question? What would answering that do for me other than maybe take me to the top of her weirdo list. I wondered what others talked about here. Suicides? Trauma? I decided this was just conversation and for the first time since we started, I decided she deserved my truth.

'Well,' I shifted in my seat and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my thighs. 'I'm bored of people. they do the same things over and over again. They wake up, shower, work, go out, at the end of the day to "socialise"', I said it with emphasis in a deeper voice, I paused as i gathered my thoughts before continuing, ' after that they go home, fuck and then sleep mostly with strangers or people they don't want to take time to know then wait for the next day to do the same thing over again.' I took another breathe shaking my head. 'I cannot do that, I am not like the normal person. I wake up, shower and work- sure, but after that I run home and lock my door and hide my head and thoughts behind a book.'

'Why would you think that is not normal?'

'Well that one is easy!' I said more to myself, 'I don't want to go out. I try, believe me I do. I make plans, Hell, I even come up with suggestions of something I could do with people -friends. When I get home though, I start pacing in a panic wondering what in the world I was thinking suggesting something I didn't want to do!? I get  a small panic attack. The idea of sitting there, laughing, cracking the jokes, making the people around me smile, holding conversations-' I let out a nervous laugh.

'Then why do you do it?' She asked, again with the therapy voice. 'Why do you make suggestions?'

'Because...' I couldn't think of a reason really. I searched my brain for the reason behind it. 'Maybe I hate the idea of letting people down, or maybe I hate being a party pooper, maybe to fulfill my predestined task to make everyone around me smile?'

'Do you think that is why you were born into the earth?' She leaned forward. I looked at her then shrugged

'Do you?' I returned the question.

'I don't know,' she said honestly, 'How would i know when I am YOU?'

Crying in bathrooms

There are two kinds of people. The ones who cry with the occasion, and the ones like me. The occasions come, a funeral, heartbreak, what ever it is that warrants the emotion of tears from us and instead we rise to get things done. Tears are suppressed and the world turns from the occasion to the normal without having given the occasion the tears it deserved.

I'm not strong, I act strong. I put my mind to work instead of facing the moment, the feeling or reacting to what would be considered an occasion for tears. Months even years later, while I sit alone watching a show or I bump my toe, the rivers start running. I do not cry, I wallow in endless streams of tears filled with confusion of which moment they fall for.

Its ironic, crying in bathrooms when I was younger was my way of acting strong,. I thought it was okay being alone to cry away the pain, the fear, the emotions I felt. Now, I cry. Not in bathrooms but still on my own.

Its frustrating. When I cry I always wonder the occasion it belongs, I try to cross it out but I can barely identify what it is that I would be crying for. Is it the pain of moaning my mother while she was alive rotting inside from cancer? Is it the fear of not living to my full potential? Is it the heartbreaks I do so well with in the time? I never know, I just cry though, and the saddest thing? I barely feel relieved. Instead I wipe the tears away, say a joke to myself and attempt a giggle.

Its all I've known to do. Perhaps its working, perhaps that's how I heal in a slow haphazard manner that continues over the years. I don't really know but for today when the tears burnt my eyelids before sliding down my cheeks, I let them and I tried not to identify them. It would not make a difference except frustrate me, for in my own way, I feel I constantly fail my heart for not being precise with when I water my cheeks. It is a relief though that i could shut off the jungle in my mind and for that second not be in control. Its a little reminder that I AM still human

The Curse of the Spirit Animal

So it seems I have been cursed by one of the many spirit animals I am. After many heavy insomniac nights, I have tried to come to terms with the simple fact that I am not a very good sleeper- for a Gemini-EarthDragon.

I went further to research my spirit animal. Which will be a bonus for my already hereditary African totem - the great black and white - the zebra.

My first search was many months ago, a sleepless night that got me wondering if I had perhaps inherited some animal instinct which kept me up most of my nights. I was paired with the owl. It all clicked and made sense then but not as much sense as it makes now.

The past week and few days have been nothing but hell for me. Namibia has become so unforgiving. The heat startles the country by seven in the morning, like the drunk uncle at the Christmas party who gets his kick by telling the children horror stories about Santa! The day starts to become murky and everything is labored. Tans are on special this time of year it seems, it took less than an hour to get my tan upgraded to Navy blue!

The alcohol business is booming, the addiction seemingly predestined to anyone who lives in this BBQ. The first beer in this holiday season is on average around 9am and a beer has to be, without fail, drunk within 5minutes unless of course, you are the one for beer tea!

Given this ungodly situation, I keep the days to myself, alone, mumbling away cursing the heat. If I were in the street I'd be the sister to the woman who wears the paper bag on her head pulling a trolley full of metallic abstract works of art! I struggle through the heat wishing to be nothing more than a squid or jellyfish. It crosses my mind that maybe jellyfish are sick and tired of being in the water and perhaps they float around cursing King Triton.

Anyway, as the long agonizing desert day draws to a close,  the sun setting in such a deliberate speed - only around 8pm, I slowly begin to find some of my sanity. I mumble less, think more and start a never ending battle with the African Blood suckers - the mosquitoes!

In an act of terrorism, I empty a bottle of bug spray on the thin sons of B!*%#'s and pray God has a mosquito hell.

I spend good time just trying to breathe. In the stillness of the young night i stand out looking into the darkening skies and wonder why the wind has been given a vacation. The timing of course is perfect! Not! I slowly collect some of my thoughts and jot them down in an unusual organised fashion which is a complete contradiction of my unorganized simplicity. I fight with words and thoughts and have never ending conversations with myself as the clock ticks away.

By midnight I am convinced I am nothing like the majestic owl that sits in the night hooting into the echoes of silence. Big bald eyes and a 270° spin on its head, I barely meet the wise creature's hobby characteristics.

I decided it was time for a second and third opinion on my so called spirit animal. It couldn't have made more sense when I was done. My spirit self was full of too much baggage hence the crazy act. It turns out I'm a whale, a spider and wolverine! No biggie, that makes me a
Gemini-EarthDragon-OwlEbra-WolvWhalPider.

That sounds like a medical condition… that makes sense!

Year-End Speech

Its end of year, we have reached another December. Yet again the time to start stating our resolutions, updating our wishlists and feeling proud of our our achievements thus far. I sit worrying about my year end post. What to say and how it is I should say it.

  To most, my words are nothing but rants of life from another one of the billion souls that exist on this planet. Mere doodles. To me, they are silence. Perhaps I use words that have been used entirely to perfection that they have become meaningless.  As the case may be, I have used words so ancient they translate to silence.

It is probably what is best. For a long time I have thought for a person who has been through what I have, when given a chance should be able to translate the emotions into a text that most will read and somehow my suffering and anguish would not have been in vain. It only made sense that an education to the masses of one existence would awaken a humanity that we are on the brink of losing.

I have tried, believe you me. Endless drafts sit in all devices that I use, every journal I have owned and subsequently burned. I have been searching for that moment. The beginning of self realisation. How do I start my story? Does it go back to the point I was consciously aware of the stone that sat on the bottommost of my stomach? Does it start with my unconscious memories of existing instead of living?

Imaginably there is no start. It just begins. Begins with the first memory. Life is after all not a collection of years but a collection of memories.

I have no words for a beginning, my endless flirtings with blank canvases for a start have been unsuccessful. I have barely achieved second base let alone foreplay with an introduction. That is, for all one knows, the answer. The unwritten clue.

For the new year to start, A year would have to end but perchance there is no need for a start instead, for a moment to collect with all the other moments of existence. Maybe now I can stop looking to the skies for a sign of the start  of the new year we all hope will be ''the year" for love, joys, happiness, the all out dream. The signs are and have been existing as we do-with each breathe we take and each moment we make.

So instead of the normal I'll be bold and live differently in this moment. Whomever you are, wherever you are and whatever you do…

Happy holidays and happy moments!!

Lady friend

Isn't it ironic that most often than not the one person we like is a perfect TV character, or the girl you meet a week before she has to leave the country. Or the man who is perfect but turns out married. Well, I've just walked into that same trap. Thanks universe, guess you really been lookin out huh?

Its not that I hadn't noticed her until today. Its that today I got to talk to her, exchange witty playful banter and joke about all the most inappropriate things. There were moments too when I let a sensitive detail slip into her ears. I couldn't be sure what she would do with that information but anyway. I received some of her most hidden thoughts too that provoked St Joan, the angel of true love.

Its was a normal day. I arrived after she did and I did not want to sit on my station, instead i sat with her. She smiled kindly, her eyes almost letting off how pleased she was to see me. Then again I could be reading too deep into it. I went straight for business to hide my interest. She is the cliché. The typical punch line to a perfect bad joke for lesbians. She's straight, has a man she's been dating for many years and has two kids with him. Great!

We got talking. Bad idea Joan! What are doing?

There are many moments I thought I should out her as interested in a woman. The conspiracy! A woman?

Well the day couldn't have gone slower, everything seemed to float by deliberately. More secrets, more moments. Goodbye seemed like it was off the cards. In a movie she would have come to my house, we'd share a glass or plenty of wine and sleep in each other's arms and plan to elope with the kids to Mauritius, buy a beach house and wake up happily ever after if the plane didn't crash of course. But this is earth 1.0, nothing is as Hollywood. I watched her take the bus to the small red sand town she belonged with her man and kids.

She is now a tale of human connection, a story for drunken gay parties. Another woman in my world and I've become part of the Ironic song. Thanks universe!

Fictional reality

I have always had the notion that I am not attracted to looks. I still hold that notion but i have now found the right character. I have fallen for a movie character.


In all the fiction, I actually realised how she is made in the most perfect way for me. I barely want to watch anything else on TV except if it to repeat this movie and watch her, My woman character enchanting me into this love sick puppy.


Its ironic, I watch the whole movie with a stupid smile on my face, listening to every word that flows out of her mouth, as if she's saying those words only to me. As far as I'm concerned, regardless that it was scripted, they are my words.


She is an older woman, French for that matter with a witty tongue and a gorgeous smile. I love her accent and that she doesn't hide that expression of pleasure, joy - she wears her smile when her heart wants to smile. She walks deliberately and has a very interesting perception of life and love.
She probably doesn't exist. Probably? Okay okay, she doesn't exist; but she is still that perfect idea that I wish not to tarnish with any other film. I don't want to forget, or to lose the enchantment she has bestowed on me.


I guess the one thing that this has proven is that if you stay single long enough, you will lose your mind! that's okay, all I have to do now is learn French.

Older women #101

things young women should know when it comes to dating older women, now pay attention you youngsters, this is very important.


#1 The Lady of Insecurities


Older women are very insecure most the time and "cant believe that a young woman like you
could love an old prick like me!" Boo hoo! Really?


Honestly the number of women in the world are way more than men; which is why Lesbians are
the most lucky beings on this earth. The sea is full of fish! Listen up honey when I choose you,
how about just letting me love you without the constant reminder that I am in fact 10years younger
than you?




This type of woman needs to be loved right. Take her out hold her hand so all the young eyes can
see you together. Maybe, just maybe she will feel like a queen.


#2 The Jealous Lady


This is the type of woman who cant stand seeing you talk to anyone else, especially women your age
(that you have absolutely no interest in by the way). You will most likely get the "am just
wondering what you doing talking to her, am I boring you?"


For this question I suggest that you don't answer! This type of woman is a little too hard to handle,
not many get over jealousy. its one of those things that just doesn't go away but if you love her
enough to take it, hold her in your arms and reassure your feelings for her.


Her type is usually the one that is afraid to lose you or that which they share with you.
Good luck with this type of woman!


#3 The Lady Runner


This type of woman I still do not understand but this is the typical older woman. One who meets
you and lets her heart and emotions run with you. You connect in so many levels than one then
she suddenly disappears. This usually happens in more ways that one for instance, a sudden
break­up/ or more creatively ­ just disappear for days weeks or months in a time.


You are supposed to be older...what the hell you running from?? Sheeeesh. This type of woman
sucks, not because they run but because they pop back in your life just when you have just met a
nice woman you like and have just moved on. Or after they break up with you they return and
want you back usually really confusing the little sanity you hold.


I still don't know what you could do with this woman and second chances are risky but what's life
without risk? But maybe sometimes its better for your heart to just let go. Your choice!


#4 The attached woman


Many older women when you get to know them are real cool and usually have great connection.
They is usually a catch. Many of these women have women they have in their lives­ girlfriends.


The really sucky thing about this type of woman is you find out late, this is one of the details they
leave for last. I guess there is something about watching a young woman's jaw drop and heart
stop that fascinates the older generation. See now this is quite a dilemma and many young
women when they have found what they have been searching for in this woman become the other
woman...then you know what happens after that. Lesbian Drama. Ok now listen real close young
ladies. Question one you should ask is "Are you single?" this should obviously come after
stressing your feelings on honesty etc...lol. Maybe you will be spared. And second thing ­ DO
NOT ever settle for second best! Don't be the other woman.


#5 The "mother"


Okay here is a woman easy to cheat on and or leave easily. the woman who constantly refers to
age...I know this woman! I see you are older everyday I look at you, now FFS SHUT UP!! lol. This is the most annoying of all types. The one who wont let you do anything because "its not wise" and
she "the wise OLDER one" knows best. Young women, here is one word for you... RUN!!!


#6 She
This woman is the one that knows she is older but doesnt really mind...she loves you like hell
anyway. This woman will be perfect for you! :)

“OMG i almost died – Lets do it again!!”

Posted on August 8, 2012

I walked into the largest theme park in Malaysia (Berjaya Times Square theme Park) and my eyes were instantly glued on the orange track running through the theme park space. It had twirls everywhere. I had to get on it..my body had no choice but to follow my excited mind to the check in counter. This is the one thing i was willing to enjoy without getting the heart involved on the decision. I walked in with my ticket bracelet and the pass to all the rides . what more could a girl want!? well except besides maybe another girl?

so alone i walked to my first ride, the roller-coaster and sat at the front. I had the whole train to myself, it felt like it had been reserved for me and i was supposed to take it for the first spin. “sure“,  i thought “How hard could it be?”. My seat-belt on and it slowly started to move. Then suddenly a burst of twisted motions, upside-downs and fast crazy speeds. My screams of exhilaration escaped my mouth. I loved the force of the train, the speed i could feel from under my feet and the way the air would part for it and i to pass. Sudden control…holding on to this daring machine for my life. trusting it with my life.

I got down still in disbelief i hadn’t fallen out or died. a smile was pasted onto my face until the thought about theme parks crossed my mind. Who the hell, in their right minds made these rides anyway? (lets create a scene here) Did she like sit there and thinking of her next great invention then she stands and walks to her window overlooking the dust of the old roads and her horse standing there bored. She’d start to say to herself, “you know, i want to make a place where we can all go and enjoy speed and danger. where our hearts will stop momentarily in fright and/or excitement. I want to create a place where adrenalin will be constantly released from the body. A place to almost die.” She would then return to her seat and pick up her pen before coming up with a brilliant idea she exclaims loudly. “I’ll make a theme park!”

Even though it was stupid to make these rides, i guess the up side it keeps this rowdy African kid on vacation from getting into trouble? I looked up at my next ride, to spice it up, they called it the DNA mixer. “DNA mixer?? really?” Yes! I walked in and took a seat right in the middle of the second row of its victim seats. Beside me a young man and his date show up. How romantic, i thought. I guess i’m bringing a woman here for our first date?? *insert evil wizard laugh here* this was perfect!

When the ride started i thought “hmmmm..not too bad“, but that was before my DNA started getting mixed up. LITERALLY! This thing was “smartly” designed to shake your body so hard until you get your DNA mixed up with the person next to you. Not only that, my necklace kept falling into my mouth every time i was upside-down. Picture this if you will…you’re upside down trying to spit something out of your mouth and you would not dare use your hands, they are saving your life at that moment. I choked laughing at my ridiculous acts. No wonder they don’t have this thing in Zimbabwe.

Next up was the one ride which is just plain fun to be on..no strings attached. It just takes you up and spins you around gently. Its a great ride if you enjoy heights and wind. I loved, i just let myself float through the air with crazy rock music playing and lights flashing. A decent ride might i add. safest of them all. I got down all giddy and happy. no broken bones, stopping heart or crazy thoughts.

Next to it was this machine with two arms that where like two swings. It started of perfect, a big ass swing..who wouldn’t enjoy that?? I spoke to soon, the next swing was combined with a rotation that caught me off guard. The next few times it was throwing me upside-down rightside-up, then reversing the rotations just to confuse my already spoilt system. i was trying to keep my eyes closed but my body seemed to want to watch in case – i don’t know – my mind needed to flash my life before my eyes from time to time? It was an exhilarating-frightening feeling falling towards the ground. Literally watching the ground come so close to you then suddenly you’re heading towards the ceiling with no sign of slowing down. I got off the ride feeling a little ill. It was just an overdose of fun, fright and relief. I had a good time, i was mixed up and had a headache to prove it.

“OMG, i almost died” i thought, “lets do it again!” so i went on the roller-coaster again

Broken nail

When was the last time you cried? I mean really cry? The kind of cry that the tears burn your eyes, turning them red, snot dripping, veins popping kind of cry?


Its funny because I watched a show one afternoon after I knocked of from work quite early and in the show Chasing life, April woke up one morning only to find that her new husband had died in his sleep right next to her. Her best friend though hadn't really cried for anyone, she explained that she hadn't cried because she hadn't lost anyone close to her. While helping April in a treasure hunt, they went looking for a clue in a hospital room. She broke a nail which made her burst into tears like she had had her hand cut off.


I understood that feeling of bottling up emotions, not living in the disappointment or anger, not wanting to let go of all you feel and just feel despite how bad you may look to the next person. Its in that moment that when the silliest things like banging your knee on a table could cause so many emotions to overtake you in one magically stupid instant.


I've had a few tough years...with a lot of good within that of course but its been a whirlwind of keeping myself together. I walk with a bounce and smile with a twinkle but every night alone in my bed I let my mind float into the darkness dreaming outside my head. I ponder and dissect my exact feelings with not much emotions involved. It took April's best friend's nail to make me realise that I hadn't cried in a while. .


But now that I did, I sigh and look to the heavens and smile. Everything will be alright after all. At least that is what I feel in this moment and that is what I need for now.