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Believe!

There’s a lot going on in my mind today, plus I have a massive (yes, massive, no other word would fit so perfectly) headache! I’m not sure I’ll be able to grasp one idea and convey it in a way that anybody but myself would understand, so ummm, I just won’t talk about those things till I’m mentally and physically prepared to run with all my thoughts, because Lord knows my fingers will be running across the keyboard to keep up with my thoughts. 

But I was looking through one of my writing books (because it’s not really a journal/diary) and found this from a year or 2 ago, so you know, I hope it challenges someone.

Looking for something you think you’ll never find, which you *understand* is unattainable is a waste of time. Until you allow yourself to believe that you canwill, and deserve to find it, you will never have the courage to look in the right place!

Happy searching =)

I’ll post 1 or 2 inspiring pictures as well.

xx

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Hiding behind a keyboard

Sometimes my fingers don’t tap what my lips need to say, what my mind, nope, heart has to say! So I let them edit my sentiments, and disguise my imperfections but what good does that do?! I’m not gonna build a life in the confines of my screen!

There’s something extremely annoying about the *liberation* that is the internet, and chatting. I mean it’s fantastic yes, I can talk to, anyone and everyone, at the same time, from completely different time zones, and never lose touch with anyone, and you know all that commercial nonsense, but it’s not really them I’m talking to, is it? It’s an edited version

No I don’t mean the capitalisation of I, or grammar and spelling and all that (although I do appreciate it when English is typed in it’s correct manner at least in those aspects) I definitely don’t care for punctuation, because you know, we’ve seen how little that matters to me in my very long convoluted sentences, a topic which I keep promising to discuss but never have actually!! (I dislike full stops,,,,tbe, sometime, maybe) but that’s my point, part of it, sort of, I dunno.

Ummmm, where was I?

Edited versions, yes. I mean hidden facial expressions, exaggerated reactions (LOL isn’t really laugh out loud anymore it’s a smile, at best! LMAO is a smile with a little tooth action in there,,,,I believe you get the point) Why is it so difficult to be sincere online? We’ve got all these different kinds of audiences to worry about. It’s very hard to be all you in front of things, people, that represent different parts of you isn’t it? It’s easier to compartmentalise. Well easy is boring! I’m being side tracked (glad I picked the title I did for this blog! disclaimers, thankfully, become obsolete)

Hiding! Keyboards! 

Sometimes I type things I wish I could say, and say things I wish I could type. Maybe if I keep typing stuff like this, and go out more, both those dreams will be realised (haha, it’s never that serious). I aspire to be just as witty and direct in my face to face conversations as I am behind a keyboard, and I will try my best to invite the sincerity of my facial expression and unedited gestures to the binary world (is that a thing? can I say that?)

I don’t think I have much else to say about that right now.

8

Future Ex

A friend of mine shared the picture attached to this post last night, and I dunno, it just inspired me, so I stayed up last night and wrote down all my thoughts, and this is what came of that,,,,

Standards

Someone tell Michael that my calls are not for booty, because my hang ups about standards aren’t redeemable for bonga points, these dials can’t be tapped to tap you out, no minute, minute man can reach my frequencies, those phony conversations won’t have me ringing his bell whenever I show up in his log. Tell him I will not erect his mast because my bandwidth doesn’t take credit, those post paid promises don’t fit in my network. Try to chat me up calling me baby, or shawty, all you’ll get is a phone book in your face take your name calling list and communicate those contacts to your immobile love life, because no number will get past my voicemail unless it’s 0722polite that’s 0722765483 any takers? I’ll be waiting for that phone call.

Someone tell Phillip that these full lips, object of his desire but the manifestation of my minds sexiness, will only be quenched by water, pure, plain, and simple, flow like no wordsmith could liquidate his thoughts and my thirst will be quenched, drench me with your passion.

Someone tell Matthew that the glistening dew on my succulent fruits are not his to enjoy, these are the products of my labour, I will not be his morning glory, don’t be damn lazy, gather some maturity, find a hole and bury your seeds of compassion, tease the lands with fertilization of your raw sweat and determination till the roots from love branch out, and when your reaping is ripe and ready, be man enough to put a ring on it.

Someone tell Pete, that the two large pieces of meat he stares at like the main course pale in comparison to the only assets that matter, the appetizer to my matter, juicier, and more tender than the hills of my anatomy, these mammary glands will never be more grand than the cleavage of our connection if my cups are the only size that matter.

Someone tell Tyler I will not send him a picture.

Someone tell Muigai his guise won’t cover for his empty vessel, Zara won’t cloak your selfish heart her shelf life isn’t long enough to survive being locked up in that closet. A lie through your teeth is ugly, like rotten cavities, no veneers can beautify that mess up. Search your heart before you lose it in a thread of Versace, because no knitting needles can weave you a companion, that yarn is meant for cloth. The fabric of our relationship will not be stitched into textile fabrications. Don’t give me your tailored alterations, I want the raw material.

Someone tell my future ex that there are many girls out there who will tell him what they want, and they will edit and corrupt him, tell him there are boys who have done the same with me, but I won’t hold those boys over his head if he is man enough to leave those girls’ notions at the door that welcomed them when he meets this woman, or he can watch it get slammed in his face.

all comments encouraged.

Video
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Kimbra and immersion

So, during the past few hours, I rediscovered Kimbra, I say that because I knew her music, I’d listened to vows about 50 times on a loop after the first time I heard it (so 51), but I’d never really gone beyond that. I found all these amazing videos on you tube of her live versions of songs that I knew and songs that I didn’t.

Never have I seen someone immerse themselves in their music the way she does. It’s so interesting and inspiring to watch, honestly! I know how cheesy that sounds but it’s true, I’ve found myself judging some of her videos because of their eccentricity, but more than the judgement, which has now been translated to great, great awe of her comfort in her skin and in her expressiveness (i don’t know if that phrase made sense to you) I experienced her passion, and her identity in her music. I dunno, there’s something incredibly beautiful in the way she loses herself, or rather finds herself in her music. I’m not even sure if my explanation is doing it justice, watch the video for yourself.

 

After watching this and many other videos, this one above, specifically, just got me thinking about some of the stuff I’m passionate about, it made me wonder what it was that was different in every creative that prevented them or allowed them to get to that point where they immersed themselves in their expression so much that it just took over them, and I know the ‘knowledgeable answer’ brain chemistry, psychology, their environment, blah blah, but that’s boring! All true, all factual and what not, which I appreciate, but don’t accept =/ I want a real answer

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Truth is

So, in ‘Why not,,,,’ I ‘decided’ to publish some of my older stuff yes? And so far so good. But I’m lying to myself here, pretending to have ‘decided’ to do that, i didn’t decide!!

Truth is, I have been having the crappiest writers block ever!!!!! And I say crappiest, because I have ideas! I know what I want to say! I know what I want to write! And that’s the worst! Because I’d rather have nothing, I’d rather be completely dry and have nothing to say, than to have something I have no idea how to communicate! To have this big gaping hole in my ability to express some of the things I really want to but cannot for the life of myself figure out how to!

Every time I sit in front of this laptop, or grab a pen and paper, and expose my intention to express myself in a piece, I vomit all over the paper with disgusting similes and horrid horrid metaphors and just severely underdeveloped form and structure, and I write the worst poetry ever, literally thee worst!,,,,,,ever!! It’s horrible, but you know, the first step is acceptance, right?

So there, ‘Why not,,,;’ was not a brilliant plan, it was my only plan, seeing as I’ve just been failing in the blogging department. But I think I have a plan now, and actual one, which I am admitting is not brilliant! in fact it’s pretty dumb, but oh well, why not!

I’m just going to start doing a lot of this, rambling, going on and on about nonsense that may or may not interest you, but I’m hoping if I get rid of all the horridness, then maybe there won’t be any left when I try to write again. it’s just a theory.

Here comes some relevant ranting =D

ugh see,,,,what was that^   -_-