These three words were the first words I mentally recited in my mind this morning. I was looking for our broom, you see.
The floor needs sweeping.
I’ve been absent-mindedly looking for it for three days now. It seems to have vanished. Not that those three words have anything to do with the missing broom. But silently humming them while I search every corner of the flat made the chore less annoying.
It doesn’t make sense does it? The words I mean. Why such strange words would comfort me. Well so does the missing broom! It doesn’t make sense for it to hide itself. If this is a game of hide-and-seek, that plastic thing is winning.
To sleep in my own bed.
To yawn so early and hear familiar voices.
To listen to silly stories that I will forget
but will always remember how hard my laughter was when I heard it.
To sing vernacular songs.
To hum private fantasies and get lost in dreams
without thoughts of anything.
To not rush.
To read until i fall asleep.
To wake up to the smell of breakfast.
To be with old friends.
To visit places I’ve forged kinship with over the years.
I could smell the scents of memories as it wafts at me in my every visit
as I try to imagine the city embracing me as I slowly caress it again with my eyes, with my hands, even with my laughter.
It makes me smile to know I’m safe even if it is not completely true. For nobody is safe in this world but it is of comfort to feel it anyway.
No i’m not talking about sex. But when you are not in the mood sexually, I’d recommend for you to feign sleep or better, pop a sleeping pill. That way it becomes non-negotiable. Both get what they want. you get your peace and your partner can party all by himself and you won’t hear or feel a thing. But that is gross, so dump him after.
Women may not talk about it but a lacking sexual desire is common amongst us. This lack of libido is called Hypo-sexual Desire or HSD. This is actually a common case amongst clinicians– about 1/3 of all sexually adult women suffer from this due to reasons like stress, relationship problems, illnesses, and pregnancies.But there are three stages in a woman’s sexual phase, it’s desire, climax, and orgasm —if you are desirable and your partner still doesn’t want you, it can be the case above. But if you have doubts in your desirability, you may want to hit the gym class— but I would suggest you join the Toastmaster’s club…why? because women are auditory, moron. Our desires are heightened by what we hear you say not how you look.
But for all my non-sexual “Not-in-the-mood” moments, its hard to drop dead in the mall—- so I do these 5 five things. Continue reading →
Wear the darkest clothing available. To accompany your dark thoughts and to burn a theme when you stick to the shadows of the cold night when you do an escape. Shadows become your bestfriend…the cold wind warming an even colder heart.
long strides to accompany deep thoughts, you sprint a long circle that sometimes lead you back to your own solace. They won’t find you there.
But a dose of more than enough can sometimes satiate a hungry soul. You have come to do what you have wanted and find it to your liking…but not enough to make you want it.
You look at it and find that it is still what it is…but the craving waned.
The curve of hunger is not as as it once was.
You’ve come to realize that it was what you just needed but you need it no more.
And you open your hands to let it go. And you smile to yourself knowing it was one of the things you will always remember.
And you see it slowly wave and turn as it finally jumps out of your reach.
You have no sense of loss…it wasn’t yours to begin with.
You have no feeling of regret, it has served it’s purpose.
You don’t run after it, it’s meant to be free.
You walk away and it doesn’t pain you to look back. It did not change to hurt you…but there is change within.
You will always laugh when you remember how it tickled your sense of longing…because the longing is no more there.
It waves and you wave back.
It will call you and you have no problem answering it.
It will still stir your interest but you’ve ceased to become its mistress. You were never sure if you were anyway… and you will giggle at the irony of it all.
And as you taste the adventures in your tongue and smell the sweetness of having it with you for a while, you sigh…knowing it was just what you had wanted and needed. It was exactly what you had wished for… and you do not care if the dream had ended…All that’s important is that it happened.
My lips are numb.
My fingers are too stiff.
My eyes are dry.
My mind too weak to find excuses.
My spirit too disillusioned to even dream.
So this is how one feels when one is at a loss.
When one sees reality all too plainly.
When one gets stabbed with the sharp truth.
Can I ask for immunity?
From the pain?
From the mounting hurt?
From the fear that chokes?
Can I borrow?
a shallow laugh to wipe the tears away.
a hollow hug to make the burden a little lighter?
a reckless moment where I can run so I can chase my floating dreams.
a crayon to color the moments of solitude.
a longer sleep to oblivion to wash the nagging truth.
Can I, just for once… pass through walls?
to wander aimlessly…
to touch the stars…
to burn with the sun…
to laugh with the waves…
to conquer dragons…
to name new lands…
to create new worlds…
humming silence wanders across the room and beyond. Along with it is my roaming mind, chasing the red diaries of the sane, prevailing beyond the hateful reality of not being able to vanish upon will. All the while preparing the sheets… tying them together, making sure it is roped correctly, tied tightly to the window, as I prepare to jump to the little escape the world is offering.
Outside, I see no one familiar.
Outside, I will not be suffocated with lies that once drove me to madness.
Outside, no walls to abide and no bricks to scamper from…no cup to pour my blood on…no boxes to store my heart…No smoke to make me cry.
Outside…where there is nothing to hold on to and everything is new. Where the strings no longer have its magic and the words pure and true.
…you cannot see because of the the flashing lights…
And so many people are waiting to take your pictures.
Roses are being thrown at your feet with the crowd cheering your name.
They want more, they crave for more than what’s being offered.
They clap their hands in a rythm, seducing you to again give the performance of your life……but when the bulbs die down.
After the people have left…
After you’ve become tired of the noise and the laughter. and after the stage has been cleaned… you go back to your own little self- euphoric for a moment but definitely deafened by the silence.
You ask for sleep but your mind gives you no rest. You clamour for the bed, but its emptiness gnaws at your soul. Your tandem has left…and your not on the stage anymore.
The phone rings.
You pick it up.
And somehow, that call transcends the distance…
but its not enough –Never enough!
And like the crowd that cheers…you hum the name you long for.
You sing a melody and missing his company.
You dance in loneliness…all the while making yourself sick by sending blank stares at the blank walls.
You are not sad.
But you are not overjoyed.
You are suspended…until the phone rings again.