Penny sighed and continued, “You never open up. Even when I ask, you’ll just say something like, it’s easy, I sorted it out, no need to fret. I don’t know. Maybe that’s who you are or you just want to be strong for other people. But there’s really nothing I can do when I’m communicating with a brick wall. Sometimes I want to ask if you’re okay but I can’t read your emotions. You always find a joke even at the lowest of moments so it’s really hard to tell where your mind is. And you know me better than most, so you shouldn’t feel like it’s a burden to open up to me.”
“I honestly didn’t see this coming. At the back of my mind, I knew everything was easy. And I kind of get where you’re coming from but I feel you’re partly to blame for this,” remarked Penny as she paced around her room with her phone on speaker. There was a slight pause and then Richie spoke, “Wow! Just wow! It always has to be someone else’s fault, does it? Even when there’s no fault to apportion. But since you think I need to shoulder some of the blame, please, let me know why.”
Penny took a seat at the edge of her bed, cleared her voice and in the calmest voice possible, tried to explain where she was coming from. “The thing is you always want to be strong even when it’s not necessary. Sometimes it’s cool to let your guard down and open up. Anytime I get past the surface you always go back to your shell and brush aside everything unless it’s work. And I want to be there for you but do you really ever put yourself in a position that anyone can offer any support?
I try. Trust me. I do but there’s only so much I can do when I keep on getting the same response. And I want to nag you. Prod till you tell me what’s bothering you. I want to be that person you think of first when you have something to say and don’t know how to say it. I want to be more involved in your life. But I can only do that if you let me. I want to be a welcomed problem. You mean the world to me and the only thing standing between us is on the other end of this call.”
Richie was taken aback and stuttered in his response, “Wow! I honestly didn’t know that’s how you felt. I have so much to say but I don’t know how to bring it out. It sounds right in my head but right now I can’t piece them together. I want to say I’m sorry but I don’t know what I’d be apologizing for. I know there’s a lot that needs to be addressed and I’ll start right now. Let’s meet. Dinner tomorrow?”
“Sure thing. And I feel like I have so much to say as well but I’m sure by the time we meet I’d have put my thoughts together. I’m glad you opened up about how you feel. We can build on this from a point of knowledge. I understand where you’re coming from and I believe you also get my perspective.” Responded Penny as she went back to her chair and continued reading.
They say the best things in life are free, but so are the worst. I’ve been offline for a while and I’ve seen darker days but not being able to write because I wasn’t motivated was one of the hardest things for me. I love writing and it may not be the best or interesting but it’s one of the ways I self-regulate.
In this period I’ve gone through changes and not just physically. The biggest adjustment other than starting a new job (Yeah, I move around) is that I’m pregnant. I know, it was a roller coaster of emotions for me when I found out as well, but just like Mary and other virgins before us, I accept this great responsibility. Well, I’m not like pregnant pregnant, my stomach has just outgrown my body. I look like a broken condom, free on the upper part, tight on the lower end.
Starting a new job just like any other new experience had its ups and downs. When I joined the organization (It’s a professional place), I had this serious feel around me. I had carried my Samuel L. Jackson to this place. I only smiled when hot tea was served and burned someone’s tongue or got outside the gate. But all that has changed now and I’ve met some really nice fellows, some nicer than others of course. And I’m on a diet as well.
In this period I’ve also realized fear can be a good thing or a bad thing. In my case, it’s an almost bad thing. One of the hardest things in life is being unable to achieve anything because of the fear of what if? The whole world can believe in you but if you don’t, it doesn’t count for anything. It simply means you lost a fight you were refereeing.
I can comfortably write about this because on more than one occasion, I’ve missed out on something big because of fear. Not that I was afraid of my capabilities. The fear stemmed from the fear of rejection. Fear of failure. How do I get back from failing? Do I just forget that someone said no when in all honesty I was the best?
The answer is yes! You get back up and move on. You can’t be afraid to achieve because of an obstacle. If Eve didn’t put the fear of the unknown to the side and take a bite of that apple, you wouldn’t have all these great experiences. In an ideal world where Eve said no, like all girls should to free drinks from strangers at the club, we would all be happy an overpopulated the earth.
But whether you believe in religion or not, is not the discussion here. It is about living in the moment and appreciating every experience you have. The bad ones are not supposed to be looked at as lessons only. You’re free to sulk and be down because something went south. Emotion has no logical explanation and you don’t need to justify it to anyone.
Enjoy the great moments. Don’t dwell to long on either of these situations though and forget to live. Your primary goal in life is to live. How you live it is up to you. Find something that you love to do, even if it’s a person and do that. Have you ever heard of the phrase life is too short? Well, it is very short. One minute you’re being given boobs for free, the next you need to convince someone why you’re the right person to show it to.
And that is life. An opportunity lost is not the end of things. I’d like to use people like Lincoln as examples but you don’t want to exercise power over people in the free world do you? You probably just want to sit back in some exotic location, spend time travelling, learning new things and creating memories. And that’s what you should do. We live too cautiously only to die. And for what? To enjoy retirement? I am guilty of working and forgetting the little pleasures in life. I still run out of money at the end or close to the end of the month and I have no stories to tell. That’s not how I should live.
I don’t want to regret. Think of what could’ve been. I want to ask a girl out on a date. Something out of the normal. Drink ourselves silly and uber home because I’m responsible and still don’t own a car. Life is an adventure and you are the Zach Galifianakis of it. Nobody has rehearsed for anything life has up it’s dirty, rugged sleeves. Feel free to try out new things and if they don’t work out, try something else.
Live without hating and spewing negative energy. You are not a dragon or a cat. Live and love. And it’s okay not to love as well, but hating people takes too much energy away from you. It’s however, allowed to hate the fact that Liverpool fans laugh at Arsenal, yet they don’t know how it feels like to see a Merseyside club lift the Premier League trophy. And kindly note, the current Premier League system started in 1992.
I haven’t written in a while and I was questioning my purpose in life. I was wondering what would happen to the people that read my blog. How would they relate with their families? How would they smile to their loved ones? Would their lives stop? Then I realized I’m actually not that big and nothing much would happen even if I stopped writing.
Well, plenty has happened and some of it came too fast for me get enough time to say, “That’s it?” I’ll start from the low to the high, at least drugs have taught me something in life. Sometime last week my cousin was on church gig. Yeah, I actually have religious relatives and I’m proud of them.
So he’s like the Jack Sparrow of his church. The ladies love the dude like the same numbers love calendars. I haven’t got the whole story of how the whole thing went but I have two versions so I’m going to merge them and come up with an average story. Equity is how I roll.
OK, my boy was the strongest of all the dudes in the church so he had to load those plastic seats on to the truck. However, the truck was convertible and it didn’t have one of those tent things they put on them. In this Noah type rain my boy was on top of truck, shirtless and all flexing and a convoy of pick-ups in tow singing his praises.
Things however, took a turn when the driver felt dude was getting too much attention and decided to turn things. Like literally turn things. The guy negotiated a 45 without alerting Zeus at the back of the truck. Even super heroes need a heads up and he had his up, which was the wrong time for that. He hit a low hanging branch and boom! That was it.
I did mention my cousin is Jack Sparrow, right? So he woke up hours later and son had a cracked disc on his spine. I knew it was bad when my mother’s daughter told me and I was about to dig into some pilau which didn’t taste that good afterwards.
My G however, is set to undergo an operation and all will be well. He did make it through the hard part and he was smiling when all them babes came to his bedside. I have not and I repeat, not, seen so many ladies at the hospital at once. Almost got me cracking my spine but I remembered the kind of people I know and thought otherwise.
I did tell you a lot happened and now I’m going to the high. Got a new job! Yes, I’m gangsta like that, I work and pay bills and shit. My job is really cool. All I get to do is write about football (the one played with feet) and watch games. I’m encouraged to bet and even won once from the twenty times I’ve bet. I however, work six days a week and the workload is crazy bananas but the ninjas here like me.
I’m the professional Jack Sparrow. I’m like Clark Kent. Not cool in real life but I get shit done. Now we go higher. There’s this fat chic that is really funny but I can’t remember her name so I’ll just let you imagine any famous fat chic that tickles your bones.
You do know how hard it is to come across a funny chic right? Don’t get me wrong, girls have their own sense of humour but very few have universal humour. I know some girls that I know will desist from sharing any jokes with me from today but I’ve always laughed, haven’t I? And it’s the thought that counts at the end of the day.
So I met this really funny lady. Well, technically, I haven’t met her because we’ve only talked on phone and chatted every other day but you get the idea. I’m tied by the G code so I never mention names unless you threaten to kill a kitten. I’m a Keanu type of guy.
She’s funny. Not in a scripted kind of way. In a stand-up way where she just comes up with random stuff and you have to pause and thank your ancestors. Did I say she’s beautiful? Not hot, she’s not a potato or some random location in North Africa.
So you can see, I’ve had a lot going on and I’ve not been able to catch up with my writing but I’ve made a comeback. I need people to put some respeck on my blog. I won’t say it no more! Birdman got me some mileage in the US and now I may have to go on a meet-the-fan tour (It’s one fan).
I wouldn’t fail to mention Leicester City because they achieved what I had not predicted them to achieve and my status as prophet has been revoked. Congratulations to the Foxes. Spurs, you still have to wait a little longer. Oh, before I forget, my grandma temporarily forgot my name and referred to me by my pseudo name. I felt so cool. It’s like someone meeting Bruce Wayne in the streets and calling him Batman. It’s cool.
I also have a problem of sharing things on Facebook and I can’t stop. Have they diagnosed that condition yet? I need to go to the hospital and I don’t have a valid reason. I also don’t want drugs, I just want to talk to a nurse and mess about with her beliefs. If it’s a male nurse I’d like to know a lot as well but I won’t let him attend to me.
First of all, my condolences to anyone that has lost someone over the past week as a result of natural disasters or acts of terrorism. I stand with you. Now back to my article. Back to back has to be one of the most subliminal disses of 2015. Meek Mill just stood there taking punches like a bad photo on the net. The saddest bit was that he tried to respond and came up with some very mediocre track and took us centuries back as dark skins. Pac didn’t get shot 5 times for that and YG didn’t tell us about his six figures at Bank of America for this.
I’m like a reggae artist in most of life’s situations. I just sit back, play with my dreads (you don’t haffi dread to be rasta) and talk about things that actually affect society, like hunger, corruption, poverty, education and when I’m I getting laid next. I rarely ever take things to heart especially if they don’t physically harm me. Today however, things are a bit different. I read an article online that made me cringe. So as I’m writing this, I’m not holding back anything and have no personal feelings against the author.
The article had something to do with hookah/shisha smoking ladies and why they are the scum of the earth or womenfolk. I don’t know why hookah smoking ladies are scum of the earth and to be honest don’t really give two fecal pieces about it because I don’t smoke hookah. I feel for all the ladies that smoke this Arab delicacy and had to read through the whole article holding back tears and thinking about how lit the last hookah session was.
I have never read any of the said author’s articles and solely rely on the comment section of my Facebook page and whatsapp memes to get a clue of the content. Well, today I made the mistake of opening one of those links. It wasn’t because the headline was catchy or sensational but rather the comment a friend on Facebook had made. It read in part, “……I know so many people doing Shisha and the characteristics given here are so 0.1% true. Trying to hyperbole everything in an article sometimes just makes it loose (Her grammar, not mine) taste.” I had to see why an author would publish without facts.
This was just one of the few comments on both Twitter and Facebook of people giving their take on the article. Some agreed with her sentiments while others were clearly hit where it chokes most. I even saw a lady who did a video response in a really funny accent, a lot of passion but no factual content or conviction whatsoever. That was like a Meek Mill diss and she should go back to the studio and write a better script for her comeback, not everybody is good off the dome.
I did read bits and pieces of the article and nothing really caught my attention. It was all opinions and feelings which everyone is entitled to and if I was to skim through the article, I’d have no points to bring up in an argument. That is until I got a part that read, and I quote, “All you need is to buy her a pot of shisha and await her blackout, drag her to your car’s back seat and she is all yours.” Ok, let’s just assume for a moment a rapper wrote such lyrics. Rick Ross for example or Rich Homie Quan. In Rick Ross’s case you’d lose a deal with Reebok and if you’re Rich Homie Quan you’ll probably be Donkey of the Day.
I’m not sure the ladies commenting on this article read this bit or maybe I’m just too concerned with petty issues like subtly or rather blatantly claiming that if a lady blacks out it’s ok to get a piece of the cookie or all of it depending on your sugar tolerance levels. A few seconds ago, two ladies (I have to insist) posted comments to a post I’d commented on. The first one reads, “I read angrily…until I saw the health implications, and for once I am glad she has done the research for me.” The other comment read, “I usually don’t agree with her but this time I do. Probably and hopefully this style of writing does some good this time and captures the attention enough for people to realize the message in this article which is smoking shisha is not cool, and they need to read up on the dangers it causes to their health. As for the “raping” I think it is the reality of what happens in (It’s on not in) these crazy nights out…sometimes what people need is the harsh truth.”
She put rape in quotes! Fucking quotes! What is whoever you pray to’s name is wrong with this world? Smoking cigarettes has adverse effects on ladies to and nobody is telling us to rape them because it’s bad for their health. There is no justification for rape and no amount of harsh truths will justify it. The saddest bit is that it’s guys who are pointing out the rape bit. Most ladies are concerned of being called out for smoking hookah. Whether you smoke crack cocaine, loud, hookah or the traditional tobacco, that’s a personal choice whose dangers are well known to the users.
Feminists will fight for equality and cry foul every time over something petty but will not bat an eye lid at real issues. This is a lady saying it’s ok to pull down a girl’s panties if she has any on and bang her on the back seat of your car. First of all, why the back seat and why in a car? If you can afford to drive you can’t miss a place to sleep. Second of all, she’s unconscious and cannot consent to anything so no amount of euphemism can hide the fact that it’s rape.
The worst bit is that it’s coming from one of the largest media houses in the country. Anybody who’s read a book or knows how to key in searches on Google knows that ratings are what make or break a media house. Sensational journalism has become a trend and media houses are milking this honey pot dry. The article generated a lot of clicks but at what expense? Giving guys tips on what type of girls are susceptible to rape? Nation Media Group should advertise for an opening at the Editor’s office. Aga Khan must be very proud right now. The writer can write on her own platform but when she puts it on a platform that should create positive change, I’m left a bit confused.
It doesn’t make a difference whether it’s a guy or lady that wrote that article but I can bet my left testicle that if it was a guy the response would be very different. In simple terms, when a lady jokes or talks about rape casually it’s ok but if a man does it, the whole world loses its mind. It was rape when the “Mollis” clip was leaked but since it’s a lady trying to stop women from smoking shisha it can fly.
I’ve barely hit 10,000 hits since I started blogging a few years ago. Would I lose my principles over a paycheck? I haven’t received any money that would make me do so but I highly doubt I’d justify rape. I know ladies who smoke shisha and they’ve blacked out in the back seats of cars I was in but I didn’t know it was cool to rape them. Maybe if I did, I would either be in and out of court or getting similar treatment in some prison.
I’m not a woman and don’t plan on being one at any point in my life. I can’t stop any lady from smoking shisha as well. Will I just seat back and assume a lady suggested rape was ok? No! I think it’s high time we separated journalism, creative writing, reporting and garb. Too many people acting as journalists nowadays are making a profession meant to do good be the main source of excessively hydrated fecal matter.
Maybe I’m one of the few people who felt that the rape reference was out of line and borderline endorsement but then again, not everyone is offended by real issues. I’d be concerned about someone calling me the scum of my species if I smoked hookah but then again, people have called me all sorts of names for being an Arsenal fan and liking a certain type of girls; I haven’t lost any sleep yet except for 2006. I haven’t met any lady that is cool with rape yet, except for porn scenes which are scripted.
I want to stop typing but I’m still sifting through different channels to find at least 10 ladies saying it’s not right to talk about rape so lightly. It’s very difficult considering most of the ladies on this timeline are more concerned about who is right and who sets the standards for peoples’ social lives. It’s sad and truthfully disgusting that the most affected audience in this case is the unaffected parties. I’d sugar coat my words but it seems ladies like the hard truth.
There will never be equality or even equity in the world when we have ladies responding to an article about rape describing the writer’s looks. You’re more concerned that she looks hideous without make-up or she wears fake weaves than her stand on rape? If you commented on this article and never highlighted the rape issue shame on you. You would have been better as a photocopy machine or a vending machine because you cannot critically think about what you perceive. To the author and Nation Media Group, you owe more to the society than that garb you put out. Rape is rape and no matter how you put it has no justification.
Have you ever bothered asking why it’s always the good ones that have to go? I can’t blame you for leaving but what I’m I supposed to do when I’m fighting against myself. Either way it turns out; I lose.
I’m back again. This time I’m not sure why I’m writing this. I’ve grown up to be man. I don’t know whether you would be proud of me but mama says I’m doing fine. I have so many questions. I can write them down and pray over them but does God really answer my questions? I’m struggling between being happy and making people happy. When you said I’d be great I didn’t think I’d have to sacrifice my happiness for others.
I’m in between a rock and a hard place man. I met someone and all was going well but you know me and always finding a way out of committing to someone. I keep asking myself, what would you have done? I can’t always talk my way out of situations. I know I have a sweet tongue and I’m easy on the words but is that what you want me to do? I can’t cry anymore. People expect more of me now. Every time I’m sad, I just sit back and reminisce. Would I be in the same situation if you were still around?
Things are falling apart all around me and I’m just standing there staring out the window. You said I had a purpose. I’m I the one who was to discover the purpose or do I still have to wait for life to shine a light on my path? I’m not the same anymore. I’m less angry nowadays. I managed to rid myself of the anger of losing you and taking it out on every other human being I met. Haven’t folded my fist at anyone or even shoved a single soul. It doesn’t feel right, but you once told me a man always reasons out in times of confrontation.
How’s life on the other side? I’m old enough to drink now and I know we’d share a bottle of something if you were still around. I always drink an even number of beers. I’m a happy soul and I promise once I get a little boy I’m naming him after you. I’ll show him the same things you showed me. He’ll have to know how to treat ladies with respect and know that loyalty is more important than love. I know we’ll probably never meet again but I always have you on me everywhere I go and I still talk about you like you just went out for a drink.
I’m growing into the man you envisioned and nobody bothered to tell me how big your shoes were. I’m struggling to fit into them and I can tell you for free, it’s not easy. I fall over every now and then but I still stand tall and keep going. Your mama is doing fine. We still talk at every chance I get and share a glass of wine at least once a year. Your family’s also doing great. Your girls are all grown now and live their lives independently.
Have you ever bothered asking why it’s always the good ones that have to go? I can’t blame you for leaving but what I’m I supposed to do when I’m fighting against myself. Either way it turns out; I lose. Everyone around me is either in a relationship or getting married and I don’t even know the essence of sharing my joy or misery with another human being. I’m I supposed to love just because the world expects me to love?
Every time I pen you a letter I ask myself, did he get it or is it the voices in my head? I want to be better. I don’t want to be the best at anything, I just want to be happy and know tomorrow will be better than today. Is that too much to ask? I’m probably on track to disappointing another human being but isn’t temporary disappointment relatively less painful than a lifetime of hurt and deceit? They say it’s not in my place to decide for another human being; and I agree. But I’m the one holding the stick, so can’t I yank it out because I know how far it can reach?
I’m sorry I share your letters with the world but the people that read it may have the same struggles and have no way of dealing with it. I’d drown all this pain in a bottle or snort it but instead I share it. Does that make any sense? Isn’t it sad that instead of talking to someone I wrote down my thoughts? I’ve tried to share but they never seem to understand. What I’m I supposed to do? Put my problems in subtitles for them to get into my head? Wouldn’t I be more vulnerable with someone knowing what pulls me down?
I never asked for any of this. I don’t want the responsibility of ensuring another human being’s individual happiness. It’s getting tough man. I keep a smile even on my knees. At times I don’t even have enough energy to carry myself through the day but I still manage to carry someone else over. I’m not really sure my laughs are genuine anymore. My eyes are dry from the loss of emotion. I feel nothing anymore. I’m indifferent in the same situations I should be passionate. What I’m I to do? Count my blessings everyday even if I’m the blessing?
Everyone is in a rush to make millions by the time they’re 30. Is it wrong for me to want to enjoy my youth while I can? They tell me to sacrifice now and enjoy later. Will I get plastered when I’m 30? Will I involve my wife in menage ets trois when I’m in my 40s? Why can’t life just be simple? I’d like to work and hang out with my friends and drink. Do things people my age should be doing. Why do I have to do things simply because a blog says I should or a certain billionaire mentioned the fact that he never went out as a young man? Is being rich everything there is to life?
I have so many questions but you always answer them at your own time. Today I need you to be prompt. I can’t afford to waste my life away just to fit in. I need you to tell me, is creating my own path the right path? I’m I confused for not allowing myself to feel the pressure my peers are feeling and simply taking everything one step at a time as much as I lose a few steps along the way? Nobody understands me like you do.
They say dead men tell no tales and I’m not dead but there’s certainly less life in my life. I can’t give up. Why should I? There’s always something to fight for and I can’t miss a reason to breathe some life into my days. I guess my time is up and I have to get back to my life. I’ll leave the pen on the desk just in case I need to let you know what direction my life has taken. A response would be welcome anytime from now.