(Ir)rational fears.

Sometimes, when I gaze upon the sky, I wish I could paint. I wish my fingers were nimble enough , To capture the whimsy and flamboyance it embodies. The grace it moves with . The beauty it unashamedly showcases. Oh, what a feeling, to capture the emotions of nature!

Breathtaking, yes?

I can’t believe I got to capture that! It literally looks like a painter made the sky their canvas. I’m overreacting, you say? Its okay if you don’t see the beauty in that Cynthia, unlike your boyfriends face, art is subjective.

Listen, sometimes its okay to get your head out of your ass and look at the world around you. There exists so much out there. Nature is the most dramatic friend you’ll ever meet. Fr! Seriously, get off your phone for five minutes and go sit outside. Take a picture even. Breath. Create memories with yourself. Heal with nature. I know I sound like a hippie suffering from withdrawals, but I know what I’m saying.

At least I’m not telling you to go hug a tree!

I was minding my lonesome business, spacing out and getting lost in the vastness of my mind, when two bees fell right next to me. At first glance, it looked like they were fighting. The buzzing and wriggling was so frantic, it could only mean that hands were being thrown… In my mind at least. Wait, do bees have hands? Dammit! I knew I should have paid more attention in biology class!

The only bee I have knowledge on is Beyonce!

Apparently, they weren’t fighting…technically. Oh, no. After closer inspection (because, lord help me, I was bored and curious enough to stick my nose into dangerous territories) it became clear that they were rather busy doing.. Something else. If I were a proper lady, I’d say that they were trying to know each other biblically. Alas! Lady propriety said deuces and jumped out the freaking window, when those two decided to screw out in the open. Right in front of me! I could have stepped on them. How would they have explained it to the other bees in bee heaven, that they we coming and going at the same time.

What abhorrent manners!

My flabber was gasted, okay? We’ve established that my knowledge on bee-ology is limited. Non existent even. So quick question, are bees into exhibitionism? And before you ask how I know what that means, girl, I had a wattpad phase! So, are they? I mean, I don’t see why it had to bend its nyash in front of my innocent, bystander eyes. I think I need therapy. Who do I call? Animal control? A priest?

FYI, I didn’t stick around to find out who won the fight, or else I’d have inadvertently solidified my place as a permanent resident of rock bottomville. However, and I’m not shaming anyone, I did notice that a few seconds after, one of them flew away, leaving the other rolling and buzzing on the ground. Listen, I know a woman scorned when I see one. I could tell she was furious. Did I accidentally witness a case of a one minute..bee?

A beetrayal, if you will!

Safe to say, I’ll never look at a bee the same way ever again. Beelive me! I have fears, unfortunately, and being flashed in broad daylight is one them. Another, is cannibalism. I know, what a drastic turn, right? From eating to…Eating. I don’t know about bees, but do you know that there are other carnivores that find pleasure in eating their err.. Partners? I bet that bee would have appreciated getting eaten. I’m sorry!

I wish I had the attention span needed to understand science because it’s so interesting. And its not only animals that practice cannibalism. There are communities that do it too. No, I am not talking about that one aunty from your fathers side of the family, whom you’re convinced would have already used you for ritual sacrifice if not for the fact that your Mom is a prayer warrior. Obashata!

Why does that side always give demonic vibes!

There are people that actually feast upon the flesh of other people. Disturbing, I know. Think, hannibal lecter. It needs to be said though, that the American obsession with creeps and rebranding then as hot, troubled, individuals is psychological, but I don’t know any Americans to make an informed assessment.

That being said, one of my biggest fears, is finally getting on a plane, and it ends up crashing somewhere totally obscure. Then we have to eat each other to survive. Or get stranded with a community that appreciates a nice collarbone broth. The chances of that are one in a million, but you don’t know my village people! My fears might be far fetched but they are valid. Haven’t you heard about that one story? There’s even a book about it. I’m just putting this out there, but my base state of mind for years has been stress and anxiety, so I probably taste like rotten cardboard.

Just saying!

I’m convinced that that there are people out there, who would bite me if they got hungry enough. One, is politicians. I don’t need to explain further! Two, is the people that eat their meat rare. Brian, the essence of the cow is flooding your plate. I can hear its mooo from the after life. Why don’t you pull up your knickers, go out and hunt it with your own bare hands, then eat it raw out in the wild, just like the cavemen did! Lastly, people that eat exotic foods all in the name of a versatile palette. Sir, why are you putting a snake in your mouth? Do you want to bite my hand next!

Like I said, my fears are absolutely valid. And completely rational. I am afraid of bees. I am afraid of ever running into cannibals. I am afraid of the dark. I am afraid of crowded spaces. I’m afraid of marrying the wrong person. I’m afraid of wearing heels and breaking my back in seven different places. I’m afraid of public speaking while unaware of a piece of spinach stuck between my teeth. It has happened and I still need a safe space! I’m afraid of anyone ever seeing me dance because I look like a constipated gargoyle.

A rhythmless, constipated gargoyle!

I am also afraid of people that get angry and start throwing things. Or punching walls. Or does that only happen in Hollywood? When I get angry, I cry… Mainly because I’m emotionally unregulated but who cares. Also, I can’t throw a punch to save my life. And to be honest, if I ever have to throw anything in a fit of anger, its probably gonna be myself. I, for instance, can’t imagine trashing my phone because I’m angry. Have you seen the prices of these things? Am I buying a new phone or putting a down payment for a house!

My phone is literally on life support but I would never get angry enough to smash it into the wall. Lord knows I have wished I could though. Every time it overheats, takes three business days for a full charge, which barely lasts two hours, constantly freezes and has more cracks than your relationship, I am tempted. The thing is, I am simply not rich enough for such displays of depravity. The most I can do is calling it names. Piece of trash, is a favorite.. Or ng’ombe if I’m feeling particularly spirited!

Can’t imagine my life without it though.

It keeps me warm! Scorchingly warm.

I am.

Image:courtesy.
I just want to be wealthy enough to afford evening strolls in places like this, and fries whenever I want( all the time) without bankrupting myself. That’s not too much to ask, is it? Dear miracle worker, receive this open letter from me and my stomach!

My stomach and I are a team. A force of nature, if you will…And we have some eternal wisdom to confer on thy. Pay attention! I don’t know who needs to hear this- me definitely – but I hope that you know that you don’t need to ‘perform‘. Most of us, I’ve realised, are not taught how to exist but how to survive. It is human nature after all. We are taught that camouflaging our true self’s and curating versions of ourselves that are palatable, is how to live. I don’t know, but the moment you start figuring out who you are beneath the noise and clutter, is the day you begin to truly live. Or have a mental breakdown.

Or dive head first into a state of psychosis but we are staying positive. Viva!

To truly exist is live for yourself. And I don’t mean that in a self-centered-fuck-you-and- your-dog kind of way. I mean embracing yourself fully. Flaws, imperfections et al. Knowing you for you. How can you as an individual, contribute to the collective when you have nothing to offer to you? It sounds very nihilistic but hear me out, okay?

You have no need to put on that costume. Why are you struggling to put on ballet shoes when you don’t even know ballet? Your toes are meant for standing on peoples necks (non life threateningly). You are not a dancer! A performer! We both know that the best you can do is a shimmy here and there. A little twist to spice things up if you’re feeling energetic. Sometimes you can spare two fingers in the air like you just don’t care… bazokizo style. Anything other than that and emergency services might need to be called in. All I’m saying is, as long as you live to please, they will put for you Amapiano then call you rhythmless and talentless when you don’t live up to their expectations.

The only thing you should be dancing to is the rhythm of your soul.

My dear, can you whistle? No? Then sit down! Peoples opinions are not your responsibility. Release your soul from the burdens of projected, unrealistic expectations. For example, in my head I know all the dance moves. A certified Waistline warrior. Kwa ground, my bones are stiffer than a priests neck at a brothel. Now imagine me trying to go toe to toe with a pro just to prove something. Why would I do that to myself? You get me! Its so embarrassing…like having a crush.

Ever had one of those? How did that end for you? I for one, have never pulled a crush… Well, I have never pulled anyone, period! To be fair, it probably has something to do with the fact that I dress like I reside on the whogivesashit end of the spectrum. Or the fact that I can hold a grudge like a good, ex catholic school girl. Eternally! How dare you not feel the sublimal vibrations I’m sending through discreet, two second glances and increased heart palpitations when I see you . Also, When I look at someone, they either assume I want them Or I’m afraid of them.

Both are terrifying options, I fear.

A Psychological truth is that crushes should remain unattainable. That’s how the powers that be deemed it fit. The minute a crush veers off into reciprocation territory, an imbalance occurs in nature and the world starts to tilt. A crush is meant to be one sided! All of you heathens that are dating their crushes, y’all are the reason climate change will finish us all. I hope you’re contend with causing the destruction of mankind.

I sound bitter? Oh, eat shit Margaret!

You know what else feels unattainable! My dream of owning a car in this economy. I see the car of my dreams in my dreams… And before you ask, no, I can’t drive. Friend, most days I can barely walk straight. That won’t stop me from manifesting though. Didn’t I say I want a big, expensive, shiny car, with a sunroof? I know nothing about cars FYI, but Watch this space! Who wants a small car, anyways? Gari inakaa ni kama unaeza inua juu uekelee kwa bega Kama mkuki, Hiyo ni gari kweli?

Kiulizo tu!

You know, If I ever win the lottery, I won’t tell anyone but there will be signs. At one point, divine favour will locate me. Besides, I’m a really hardworking girl (said no hardworking girl ever) so really, its only a matter or time. Amen! Listen, I want to spoil my family rotten. Ha! God, if not for me, then do it for them. if I make it out, we all make it out. I want the only thing stressing my dad, to be how far the remote is from his chair. I want my moms main concern to be what color/pattern of curtains to purchase.

Listen, even in the next ten lifetimes, when poverty hears my name, it will scatter! Scamper! Skip! Skedaddle! Scurry!

I’m buying a Camera. Immediately! Just so I can take pictures of nature. I want to take pretty pictures of the sky at night, Lord! Also, as someone who has grown up in a rural area, I’ve always been interested in how communities like mine develop, the social issues affecting people in such areas: poverty, poor education, mental health… There exist such a big disconnect.

Baby steps!

Here’s a reminder; As we pray for the things we want, we should also pray for God to prepare our hearts to receive while we wait… So we don’t waste or squander the blessings. The waiting period is not easy. Its a test of our patience. Our integrity. Dignity. I always like to remind myself that its a season and not a lifetime. Even though it feels like the latter.

I write a lot. To God. To myself. I just write. My dreams, feeelings. To me, putting everything on paper is like having a conversation with my soul. I want to know myself deeply, and so I write. I want to know God deeply, and so I write. The language of the soul.

I want to tell myself my story as I experience it. As I live it. As a reminder to myself that I am stronger than the overwhelming present emotion/situation. To affirm to myself that ‘I am’. You know? I don’t know if it makes sense but really, ‘I am‘ is the best was I can put it. In this moment, I am. In this situation, I am. I forget sometimes and again, that’s why I write.

I forget to be present. I crave and yearn for an escape. The easy fix. I think this is where most of us lose direction. The muddled, middle ground between what we are and want we want/could be. We all have our own ways of… Dealing. When you feel stuck in you own body or stuck in life in general, its so easy to jump into the deep abyss, just to get five seconds of reprieve…rest.

Let this be a reminder to you and to me that its just a season. They come and go… Like your boyfriend. Ha! Seasons of pain/rejection are inevitable in life to be honest. And they will put you through hell, break every bone just for fun, come back again and repeat. Still, remember, I am. Its important to not get lost in that whirlwind.

Listen, life will squeeze bitter lemons into your eyes and not give you enough time to figure out how to make lemonade. If you can’t dodge, just lay on the ground and keep rolling. Figuratively of course. They might call the cray cray police on your ass! Just never stop. Even if you have to crawl on your knees. Hold on to every piece of you that just wants to curl and whither, hold tightly and move. All I’m saying is, life will have you by the thong, but you my friend, can handle a little wedgie. Get up and move!

Seasons of drought are not meant to break us but to make us. Think a phoenix. A rebirth. A breaking of the old self and breathing life to the new self. Its like a constant reconstruction of the I am. A renewal. And if you believe in God, a testimony. Walk in faith. Be kind to yourself. Be brave. Be courageous enought to fight for yourself. You are and you can.

PS: Channel your inner barrack for that last one!

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Photo: courtesy. Oh, hello there! What you’re looking at – unfortunately for me– is the perfect representation of what 2023 was like. Just imagine a pyromaniac on the other side, with a match and a blinding desire to finish me.

Since life decided to give me the proverbial Middle finger (fervently, might I add), I have decided to just buckle up, and let it have its way with me unencumbered. Let’s go universe! Take the reigns on this roller coaster and either get me through this shit, or ran me off a cliff. Dear lord, every weapon fashioned against your child is prospering. How did I end up on the strongest soldiers list?

Its a few hours to new years. Am I supposed to be excited? Nervous? Listen, if the last few years are anything to go by, then I should probably be running for the hills. I wonder, does the polar express run through this parts. I have a nightdress and insomnia, that should about cover it, no! Isn’t that how all great adventures start anyway?

Probably not!

I wish we all got to go on silly, little adventures at least once in a while. I’m not saying I want to go on a safari and get lost in the African jungle, then get adopted by monkeys who for some reason, know sign language and Taekwondo. I really don’t. And the wedgies and chaffing from all that swinging on trees would not be a good look for me. What if all I want for the new years, is to go on silly, life altering, liberating, cosmically charged adventures like our girl, Y/N. If you don’t know who that is, then it just means that you have a social life and are mentally stable and frankly, I have no clue what you’re even doing here.

This is not a safe space for you, freaking alien!

If you know her though… Hello, best friend. Did you go to therapy today? See, Y/N is a little bit of an enigma. Sometimes she is beautiful in a way that is cruel and debilitating. Sometimes, her beauty is inner- or err, you at least have to squint really hard to make out just how breathtaking she is beneath the humongous magnifying spectacles on her face, the unruly, curly(oh its always curly) mop of hair and the terrible fashion sense. Sometimes she is shy and quiet. Others, she is loud and embodies the type of confidence that a mere mortal like you and me can never muster. She is regal and yet down to earth. A lover. A fighter.

She is everything you are and aren’t!

Y/N is actually quite likable… If you ignore the fact that she is also sometimes a teenager with… Issues, who falls for a thousand years old Fae, macho man, but its okay because she is an old soul. Also, she never farts, never pees, her periods are nonexistent and in a span of two business days, she is always out there saving the world from something or someone that looks like the physical embodiment of the seventh circle of hell. Oh, what a wonder she is.

May the spirit of Y/N- or at least some of it- locate us in this new year.

I have a burning question for you. Yes you! Its a very fundamental and self defining question. It can make or break you. In fact, lesser men have gone screaming for the hills when confronted with its truth. Its meaning. Its irreverence! The question, Is this; did you grow up in a fart shaming home or was it fart shame free. Is the spirit of Y/N within you!

Go on, I want to hear all about your stinking experiences.

Did you know, that according to science, farting increases your life span by at least two years? Don’t google that! You can deduce a lot about a person by how they fart, where they fart and how they act after the fart. Now that’s a lot of farts. Anyway Its called the psychology of the bunda! I did not (I totally did) make that up! See, there are people who will release anywhere and anyhow without care. To them, whether its the quietest shhhhh or the loudest Brrrrrrrr noise pollution ever let out, they don’t give a fuck. A funeral, church, on the bus. Its all a formality. No protocol will ever come before their ass. Literally!

A farter? Fartee? who is unapologetic.

Honestly, I’m convinced people like that have at least gotten away with one murder, and that’s why nothing phases them anymore. The quiet assassins have to survey the vicinity before they release in a manner that will not alert anyone within hearing distance. What kind of farter are you, beloved.

As a society, when was it decided that farting was distasteful or something to be ashamed of. You know what’s distasteful Sam? Your face! We should never be ashamed of our bodies doing what they’re supposed so be doing. Its an uncontrollable chemical reaction. We all fart in our sleep and nobody bats an eyelid. So why are you acting affronted when I let one out in the daylight. Farting is normal. Your husband cheating on you with your grandma is not. You get?

Look, I don’t know who needs to hear this, but it’s okay to let go sometimes. Here’s a thought, how about you unclench those muscles, take a deep breath, lay back and release, In the name of Jesus! Seriously, do it. Its good for your mental health. Science, remember? Or maybe don’t if you’re suffering from a severe case of diarrhea. In that case, keep those muscles locked tighter than a misers purse or we’ll be having a different type of clean up in aisle booty.

So yeah, I am pro fart. Its a thing!

Besides, farts are literally the fastest way to humanify a person. I bet your favorite celebrity casually let’s out the nastiest, toe curling bombs when they think no one is within smelling distance. Am I projecting? Probably. Listen, if you’re in my circle of friends – I mean its more of an imaginary dotted line but whatever- you can fart in front of me and I won’t judge. Go on stink. I might need CPR, and the stench will probably be bad enough to induce temporary memory loss but hey… Release, I say!

And so from today, I charge thee. Go forth and imbue the world with your Essence, without fear or shame. Go and do great, smelly things in the name of your ancestor’s. They are proud of you.

Are my ancestors proud of me though? Erm.. They probably look at me and wonder how the hell I’ve survived all this long . I am a mess. Pretty sure I give the angel assigned to me migraines. Can they get migraines! Anyway, thing is, I have no sense of self preservation whatsoever. My survival skills rival that of a cockroach. Nonexistent, is what they are. Every time I step outside, I am at the mercy of Jesus, my nail biting habit and the cruel world. I am simply (a)n en(danger)ed (to myself)species.

If there ever occurred a zombie apocalypse, terminator-esque, end of the world type of situation, I would simply die. That’s it. I’m sorry, where exactly am I supposed to drag up the will to fight for survival against flesh eating zombies, when I can barely cross the road without hyperventilating. A willing sacrifice, I am! I will never understand people In movies. You’re the last five people remaining in the entire world( in movie logic that just means Wisconsin) there’s no food, water or anything within a thousand miles for sustenance, and you can’t even fart in peace because you’re being hunted. Yet you want to live?

Maybe if I had tried out a hand in the girl scout business, i’d have learned a thing or two about survival. Maybe then I’d have a clue of what to do in case a scorpion bit my sorry ass. That’s right. I got bitten by a big, raging, ugly scorpion and holy motha…that shit hurt! Obviously, I’m not heeheeing from the other side with Michael but fuck, I thought I was about to. Everything I know about scorpions is pretty much from animal documentaries and that one movie. And ‘everything‘ is literally just, “if you see one just run bitch, run!”

Well, I didn’t run… Because I didn’t see it. I swear I didn’t. How the hell did I miss something so huge and menacing, with a stinger that was so sharp and painful I peed myself a little. The little shit! A scorpion almost took out a Scorpio. Isn’t it poetic!

Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself. So let me take you back. Picture this in technicolor; Because I’m apparently (Without my signed consent) an adult who has to do adult duties, I have to wake up really early. Its cold, early and basically around that time where I’m contemplating if its possible to file for bankruptcy, or send up prayers that Whomever I marry, will be a morning person because I and the kids will need breakfast, and it won’t be coming from me.

So there I am, disoriented and susceptible to scorpion attacks on a random Friday. I bent down to pick up something and suddenly, my thumb was on fire. The fear I felt when I saw that, that thing scuttling for Safety after unleashing its sharp end on me was,…y’all, I thought I was about to die. And since I’m me, I panicked so hard I forgot to call for help. I waited… And waited.

I am not Y/N. I do not slay monsters on one hand while baking cookies with the other. I panic and freeze. You know, fear in general is an emotion I know all too well. I wear fear like one wears their favorite coat during the cold season. It compliments every outfit. It highlights every little thing. If you look close enough, you can see it in the way I sometimes walk shoulders hunched, curled into myself, wishing I could disappear into thin air. To be one with the mist. If you look close enough, you can see it in the way my eyes shift just ever so, never lingering. Always glossy, a mirror of the pain hidden within. If you look close enough you can see it in the air that circumvents my being and sets me apart In my lonesome.

Fear is my bff. She knows me better than anyone ever has. Maybe, better than anyone ever will. Of all things, I do appreciate her loyalty, untoward as it might be. Our relationship though, is tumultuous at best. Since she is all I’ve ever known, I sometimes wonder, in those hidden moments when our friendship becomes a tad too heavy for me to beae, I wonder who would I be without her. Would I be like Y/N. A lover. A fighter. A friend. Happy. If I had never met her, would I walk into places head held high. If I had never met her, would my eyes linger. Would they be aflame with the light of life. Oh, if I had never met her…

I think… I think I hold on to fear because its comfortable. It provides the illusion of control. Seriously, life does not have to be this dramatic. There doesn’t have to be a pressure to perform. To fit in. What if I was never meant to fit in. This is a journey of my mind and me. A journey of facing my imperfections. Self acceptance. Self Forgiveness. Self Compassion.

I don’t know what the new year holds for me. Nevertheless, I’m choosing to just start. Start even if I’m scared of failure. Even when I’m In doubt. This year, I’m digging deep for that inner strength. This year, I’m choosing to be less afraid.

My advice, to you and to me, is to figure out where you’ll derive your inner strength from amongst the three Gs; God, gandhi or ganja.

Happy new year!

PS: The scorpion was no match for my RPG slipper 4000!