Sunday, 3 December 2017

Broke


Imagine how much fecal residue you would leave lingering in your butt crack. Just because you don't have enough paper to afford some paper. Funny right? It's gives your fart that extra oomph and blocks of houses have to be evacuated cos of you. Fix your hole-ridden pockets bro.

Is the devil still right beneath your feet? Even if you're a squatter on the third floor? Maybe he moved in just like you did, but instead of staying in his hellish comfort zone, he chose to bring it close. I guess you can stop binding him now. He keeps knocking on the soles of your feet - wear high heels instead.

I hear there are two things that are certain in this life: death and taxes. Oh Benjamin Franklin said that. I'll add another to this list - hunger. The hunger that eats away the great walls of your Chinese stomach. Yeah, after all that "Chow Mein" what did you expect? Now, you live to receive the ridicule of your neighbors that choose to share with a burnt conscience.

Do you need some liquid? The tap flows freely. But boil it first so you see its true contents. That's what heat or fire does. Showing you what you are. But since you're broke and can't afford the Belaqua "purified" water, drink it saaaa. You won't die okay.

Tuesday, 17 October 2017

Chas Kelewele



Do you consistently look at yourself and wonder whether you've been played?

Maybe a DIY happened - I mean you might be the holder of, and the makeshift cricket stick, whilst still being the former carnation tea creamer can that once held liquid.
Or you've imbibed too much oil. Pretty much like the "korkorr" that Julia's mother soaked in that recycled cooking oil from "Things We Do For Love".

You were green before, and then just before your metamorphosis was complete, you were tossed into the masses' juice - to get fried, to become like the others that were forced to fry and turn brown. Now you're served like the dish you are. Isn't it sad? That you're lost amidst the uniform that society wears proudly, except that you had wanted different and now you're stuck.

Let me give you an escape plan. You're already in the that blue crucible.
Make sure you burn the lips of the one who purchased you along with your brothers and sisters by the roadside gutter.
Fall to the ground. Become a part of the rejected, roll yourself in the dirt and get inside the garbage dump. Trust me, you're not dead.
You're about to be re-born. And then maybe next time, whatever form you take, you won't join the queue, you won't inquire "what key are we singing in", etc.




Tuesday, 20 June 2017

Grow Up!


Besides the ponytail I forcibly created below my occipital bun, (yes, my famous rear cranial projection that many girls laughed at), I thought myself a rock star many times without count.
Using the broken handle from my badminton racquet, I would sing my heart out - whispering along while the radio provided the needed audio.

It was soo fun, I would disturb the knob as I constantly changed the station when annoying commercials set in. The only problem - the mimicry transcended music.
You know, just like when the mid-nineties installment of the Amazing Spider Man™ came out, I imagined webs shot from my palms and swung around the sitting room. Of course, my knees and ankles suffered as a result, thanks to the center table.

You know what, I miss those times. I didn't have a care in the world. No bills to worry about.
Don't get me wrong, I enjoy adulthood - changing my passwords at every login, forgetting what multiplying matrices looks like, the gradually receding hairline, and more. Trust me, it's a thrill.
But there's something there I wish I had retained. Not sure what.

Monday, 12 June 2017

Microwave



My breakfast is just too cold this morning. The PB&J sandwich Cori made is amazing, but I'd prefer it to have been just a tad warmer. I need my dose of calories till lunch time regardless. Maybe some radiation would speed up the process.

It might have been just two slices of bread and everything else in-between them. Maybe that's the trigger I needed - to remind myself that with all of the technology around me that heats without fire, renders phone calls quicker and telegrams faster, I shouldn't get sucked into the matrix.

It's quite subtle to pick up this. When everything comes streaming at you, i.e. news feeds on Facebook, notifications from everywhere, spilling-over inboxes full of subscriptions that we've forgotten  about, etc. The list is endless. The habit of expecting the cookie to crumble at the speed of light is more than tempting - it just creeps up on you.

I'm not where I used to be, but I am far beyond where I was days ago.
Forgive me if this seems too slow for you. Good things take time, the length of which is a mystery.
We're the gold fishes swirling in that envelope of water, instead of the artifacts others gave you. And that costs more than pieces of silver...it costs time.

Thursday, 25 May 2017

Anomaly



You don't speak your father's language. Even your beginnings were dogged down with flagrant derogatory talk. You were told you didn't know how to do anything. Whenever you were asked to fetch a pair of pliers from the toolbox, you'd bring back the pincers instead.

You were taught how to change the tyres several times. But after nearly a decade you cannot replicate it. I guess he was right. There's nothing you know how to do.

Probably your French teacher was right too. You remember right? When he wouldn't give you a chance in the high school soccer team because he thought you were too short and smallish.

When you were seen as the outsider, though you encouraged yourself to prove yourself to yourself.
But despite the wannabe status, you pushed through to become a part of the science and math team. What an accomplishment! But really was it?

What's your value bro? What's your worth? Have you found it yet?
Or you're still what you were before? An unknown, even to yourself.
Fighting for acceptance, to be understood - to be accepted.
Are you enough?

Monday, 1 May 2017

Be August..



I'm drowning my silent sorrow with a lot of noise. Whenever i re-lapse into my depressive state, I pray in my bathroom without thought of time, or I'd start sinning with some secular music playing from my broken laptop. Don't give me the hypocrite rhetoric. Not now.

Right now, the stalemate I'm looking at isn't changing. No matter how many routes of change I employ, both gnosis and epignosis.

Don't talk me into doing what will make you happy. I could explode now and the pain would lose its hold on me. You'd be happy that the pain left, but the prelude, not so much. Maybe I'm too emotional at the moment. Maybe I'm just thinking too much. Or maybe you're giving up when the journey hasn't even begun yet.

Some didn't survive immediately after their flight begun, others have hung on despite the infidelity. Both, not our lot, but why this now? Be August...

Thursday, 30 March 2017

Designer Rags


I can see you balling like a billionaire. But you're not immortal, like you've got a billion airs to breath. My body feels refreshed by the water from the standpipe. And after a while, it excretes itself with a different shade of yellow every time. The same happens after the many ''voltics'' you spend your endless cash flow on. Do you feel good so far? I'm not done...

You took my girlfriend away with your V8. My intents were pure, but she still told me she had needs like M.B. Now, she keeps calling - saying she wants me back. Was it because of the vee you ate? And maybe the promises you made that didn't suffice? Oh, mister man. You're married too. So one isn't enough for you? Is it ''keeking'' you? Let me finish you now...

The ''taaty'' billion in your account must be fiction. Yet, she bought it and made her skirt more mini to stake her claim on your eyes. Have you forgotten you met her at the Night Club, across the St. Vitus Chapel? You even imagined fake snow falling whilst you serenaded her. Now you see, what the fakes know and always have. You must be dreaming in your designer rags...