I can't say I like them but I don't mind them either. They are mine after all. I take time to look at them. I'm not talking about a quick awkward glance here, but a real meaningful look. I am not ashamed of them. They are a reminder of where I've been... I've become quite comfortable with them, these my faeces .
Shocked? Don't be. It's my age, right? I know, I'm a bit too young to already be comfortable with my faeces. I should be afraid, embarrassed that they'll find out that faeces and I even have a cozy relationship let alone know eachother. I should be squirming, hiding, rushing to get out of the loo as though I'm being timed. "They are probably wondering what I'm doing in here", should be nagging at me. Erm, no. I take my time. They are mine.
There are those who will misinterpret this to mean that I like faeces. Firstly, I don't like faeces(see line 1 paragraph 1). Secondly, what part of mine did you not understand? These same people will go around hurling their faeces at my face since they are convinced I like, nay love faeces!
I'm at a zebra crossing. I begin to cross. You slow down to let me. But all the while, you are honking incessantly. You even begin to inch forward in an arrogant fashion as though to run me over. I kick your bonnet and give you a piece of my mind. You stare back mouth agape. Clearly, you thought I like faeces. Hence, you let it rip and they came spewing out of your exhaust pipe. I'll say it again. I don't like faeces! And I'm only comfortable with mine.
Believe me, if I could bring about faeces extinction, I would! Not for the reasons most would think of though. Faeces make us vulnerable as they reveal us to be the dependent beings we truly are. The system must work or we are going to be pretty uncomfortable. So we are forced to go out of our way to try and keep the system working at a good efficiency level. The better the system, the better the faeces along with a smooth production process. A lot of work! But necessary.
A smooth production process requires acceptance first. Accept that faeces are part of the settings and that's that. Then do everything to make things easier on you and God knows those you live with. You know, roughage, water, regular 'meditation moments' to clear the system etc Then do yourself a favour and don't allow anyone to get away with hurling their faeces at you and for goodness sake, don't hurl yours at anyone either. You have enough faeces of your own to deal with and believe it or not, so do they.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Monday, June 18, 2012
On Tantrums.
Ok, so I have been losing sleep. Which sucks coz I love my sleep! Why am I losing sleep? After a lot of denial, I admitted it to myself. I'm hurt. There, I said it. Finally.
Of course, I am expected to be a good Christian and be the bigger person. Forgive and forget. Easy to do when you're not the one hurt. "Don't let it get to you", I've been advised. Apparently, I'm way too cool to be stressed. Stunners on and hella cool swag is all it takes to shake it off. From other quarters, I've been advised to not think about it and it'll go away on it's own. Oh and of course there are the wet sleeping bags that insist I'm being dramatic and should stop throwing tantrums. I've made real attempts but none of this is working! So I'm going to do what I should have done from the get go!
1. Cry. Scratch that. Bawl. Weep. Roll on the floor!
2. Hit something. Punch a pillow till my knuckles are sore.
3. Break something. I was thinking a glass. I'll buy one. No, three for the occasion.
4. Burn something. All those poems I wrote. Erm no. Let me give this one more thought.
5. Sing really bad karaoke.
6. Binge. Ice-cream, cake, crisps. The works!
7. Listen to sad, sad (bordering on pathetic) music.
8. Write a blend of downright mean and morbid poetry.
I wish I could get to number 10. Ten things to do when grieving. Has a nice ring to it. Hmmm and possibly book sales. People love a good ten things self-help book.
Don't judge me. On second thought, you can if you want to. For the first time, I actually don't care. For once I'm going to accept reality. I'm going to allow myself the space and time to grieve. It's my right. And I do owe it to myself. If you need some crying time, don't wait to be given permission. Go ahead. You'll be the better for it. Promise.
PS:Kleenex should start paying me... The amount of business I've given them this week!
Of course, I am expected to be a good Christian and be the bigger person. Forgive and forget. Easy to do when you're not the one hurt. "Don't let it get to you", I've been advised. Apparently, I'm way too cool to be stressed. Stunners on and hella cool swag is all it takes to shake it off. From other quarters, I've been advised to not think about it and it'll go away on it's own. Oh and of course there are the wet sleeping bags that insist I'm being dramatic and should stop throwing tantrums. I've made real attempts but none of this is working! So I'm going to do what I should have done from the get go!
1. Cry. Scratch that. Bawl. Weep. Roll on the floor!
2. Hit something. Punch a pillow till my knuckles are sore.
3. Break something. I was thinking a glass. I'll buy one. No, three for the occasion.
4. Burn something. All those poems I wrote. Erm no. Let me give this one more thought.
5. Sing really bad karaoke.
6. Binge. Ice-cream, cake, crisps. The works!
7. Listen to sad, sad (bordering on pathetic) music.
8. Write a blend of downright mean and morbid poetry.
I wish I could get to number 10. Ten things to do when grieving. Has a nice ring to it. Hmmm and possibly book sales. People love a good ten things self-help book.
Don't judge me. On second thought, you can if you want to. For the first time, I actually don't care. For once I'm going to accept reality. I'm going to allow myself the space and time to grieve. It's my right. And I do owe it to myself. If you need some crying time, don't wait to be given permission. Go ahead. You'll be the better for it. Promise.
PS:Kleenex should start paying me... The amount of business I've given them this week!
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