I take pleasure in my transformations. I look quiet and consistent but few know how many women there are in me.- Anais Nin.
(This is a cute, deep quote. Makes you think…or this is just Anais confessing that she is possessed with ogbanje spirit and oyibo people didn’t understand but, we will never know)
The higher the mental development of a woman. The less possible it is for her to meet a congenial male who will see in her not only sex,but also the human being,friend,comrade, strong individual who cannot and ought not to lose a single trait of her character -Emma Goldman.
I hate dating. Ok I love it. But I hate the beginning “oh I like you but I want to know if you like me too and I want to try with all my might to make you believe that my poo is glitter.” in fact the beginning part of dating is shit on a stick handed to you to use to paint white walls, the seven colors of the rainbow. “oh let’s get to know each other”..then you discover you guys can’t be together because you got to know yourselves then the thing turns out to be a complete waste of time. which brings me to Mr F. The thing with Mr F has fizzled out because we got to know each other and quite frankly, he did nothing for juniorrette. Don’t get me wrong Mr F is gorgeous but he’s just one of those people who wake up, go to work and think of money all day everyday. They know nothing about anything else. Conversations with such people are so tedious you’d want to shoot yourself. Anyway, I was surprised to get a call from him, expressing his undying ‘affliction’ for me, patati,patata. we parted as friends ( not really) and no I’m not heartbroken or slightly sad. At least not about Mr F anyway. I’m heartbroken about Mr E. The one before Mr F who in My friend Yinka’s theory, is responsible for the demise of my interest in Mr F but I don’t listen to Yinka. She has cats. She didn’t get the feline creatures herself but she lives with them so she is not to be trusted. I will talk about Mr E another time. My mummy is screaming my name downstairs. She wants to tell me about how I don’t hear word and how I don’t like answering her which is a trap because if I answer her we will go back to how I don’t like hearing word. Gotta love mumsco.xx
Can you see,Can you see my soul?
Do you see how it glows?
Different colors for my soul?
Do you see my happiness?
Do you see my shame?
Do you see my flaws?
Do you see my pain?
Do you hear me screaming
Please don’t walk away.
Please don’t look upon my soul,
My flaws,then turn away.
My soul, My sweet dear soul
You are too dear to suffer so
Please close your eyes and let go.
I hope, I dream and hope
But I know deep down the time will come for me to let you go
The time will come, the time will come, so please look at my soul
See my soul, My heart, my mind and time will come no more.
Rape is not a joke no matter how lighthearted.
For every rape”joke” you have managed to remind thousands of women about an incident they can never erase or heal from. How careless can you be to throw someone’s pain in their face? That’s what a rape joke is. It’s a slap on the face to every victim. A mockery of a very serious situation. Its a pinch on a healing wound. Its very easy to say ” it was just a joke” but for a lot it’s more than that. It’s transportation to a place and time best forgotten. For a lot it’s a tickle of memories.
Rape can never be appropriate as a joke no matter how lighthearted. You know what is even more heartbreaking about these jokes? They always place blame. As if society doesn’t do that for us already. That joke about rape? Leave it alone. Leave it alone. Leave it alone. Leave it alone. There is enough pain without your obnoxious, ignorant reminder. Leave rape alone it’s not a joke. Don’t re-tweet, like, tweet, or defend a rape joke. Just one can be so damaging. *sigh* we can’t seem to say this enough just…please. stop reminding, stop laughing. It isn’t funny. Don’t mock a pain you haven’t felt.
From @thisconnectd. Follow,follow,follow this awesome lady!.
There are some people who make you want to spend all day staring inside their heads, wondering, “how the hell do they do that?!”. @thisconnectd is one of such people and here is what she has to say on strength….
“We tell people they are “strong” when we are uncomfortable with their pain and would prefer that they shut up and not bother us with it. To say “but you are strong” is telling someone “i don’t think you should feel that way” and it’s not a compliment. I don’t think that strength means being invulnerable, or pretending that you are. The belief that silence and stoicism are inherently good qualities is how you end up dressed up like a bat punching criminal in an alley.its not a good road to emotional health…be sad. be angry. let your heart break- in the diner, on someones futon,in the park, on the way to the zoo, at brunch,over drinks, in the therapists office, on the bus-wherever it breaks, let it break all the way open, let it run out and down and spread out in a soggy puddle at your feet…say “I’m sorry I can’t listen to you today, my heart is broken, will you sit with me a while and I’ll tell you about it?” say, ” I can’t take care of you today, but you can take care of me and maybe tomorrow i will take care of you…”
NB: Follow her on twitter for more doses of awesomeness…xx
Friday you fey creäture. I love thee so much. however I type this post without the usual excitement about all the naughty things I think I could have done with thee in my head……. in the comfort of my bedroom. you see, I actually don’t like my house now. it’s so empty and disgustingly quiet and so far away from town. oh and its harmattan season and you just keep seeing layer upon layer of dust five minutes after every wipe down,seriously and my extra tummy is not helping at all. did I mention my extra tummy is not so extra anymore? 😀 My little niece reminds me every time she wants to play catch with me and I start breathing like a dying animal after two seconds,that I really don’t need that ice cream or cake now.Another reason is, visitors that come keep looking at me with pity in their eyes. you can’t blame them but it irks my soul like on one lovely Wednesday, Mrs Z came with her kids and we all said hey,and welcome and all, then she walks into the kitchen where I’m with her youngest and goes ”have you greeted her? didn’t I tell you what happened to her?” at this point I’m walking away to go and get an imaginary pot from anywhere….anything to not be there but I couldn’t leave fast enough….I overhead them whispering….sigh. I love Mrs Z but I did not like that. anyway…new year,new resolutions and one of them is to do stuff because i want to even though I know the world would gasp and point and judge me till the end of my days. they are very simple things but when you do it, the reaction you get its like you murdered a baby and you are wearing its skin on your head like a hat. too horrific an image? I’m sorry. Anyway,I was thinking about the fact that people put so much time and energy focusing on trivial things like what other people wear, they forget to trim or at least cover up their horrible attitudes. Sure you can talk about it…laugh and gossip about what someone else wore…you humans need that sort of shit but to go beyond that,letting it overwhelm your soul is a bit much don’t you think? Don’t just let your horridness hang all out meanwhile the wearer of the ‘atrocious’ outfit is just going on his/her merry way. you are obviously loosing. sigh…. humans….when i rule the world, I’d send anyone that doesn’t want to enjoy life without paying too much attention to others to Pluto. i have to stop now….there is a battle in my uterus and my soldiers are loosing… xx