~A life like this~

I sometimes wonder, where do animals go to when they die? Is there such a thing as dog heaven? I hope there is. What exists in the after for animals? Do they just decay and wither away into nothingness or is there more? Wait, do animals have souls? Maybe I’m over thinking it!…..

Our dog passed away a few years ago and I just know that if there is such a thing as dog heaven, he is there. Man, I miss him. I like to believe that he is somewhere up there having the time of his life. Or down there, depending on which direction dog heaven is. They really need to come up with a google maps update to solve this conundrum! Point me in the right direction.

Woof!woof!

So yeah, my pet is in heaven. I know he is… Okay, I hope he is. Pets deserve to go to heaven. And for your information, there are people that I feel deserve to go to heaven straight too. Like, if I was in charge of the entrance exam to heaven, they’d get immediate A’s. Just like that! So, First, its the ballerinas. The way they twirl, contort, stand en pointe and pirouette, is nothing short of magical. I tried standing on my toes one time and I could almost hear the vibrations of my ancestors, coursing through my bones in abject terror. Besides, if you’re as flexible as a ballerina, you can probably just squeeze yourself through the pearly gates, right?

Honestly, being able to stand/dance on your toes is such a flex! God really knew what he was doing when he blessed me with two huge left feet whose muscles cease functioning when I’m in distress…Or attempt any strenuous, anxiety inducing activity like dancing or walking. You would never hear the end of it.

Second, is artistic swimmers. They are so mesmerizing! To have the power to hold your breath underwater that long, while performing sequences that are so breathtakingly graceful is… Its miraculous! The longest I can hold my breath – thanks to over exposure to panic attacks – is probably 5 seconds under the waterfall of my shower before I start seeing visions of my ghostly form. I can’t even fathom how people manage to hold their breath under water.

And third, plastic surgeons. Its not even about fashion or cosmetics. They literally give people a new chance at life. Besides, anyone who can pluck out hairs from your ass and give you a better hairline deserves to at least shake hands with Samson up there.

Plastic surgeon’s, saving lives one receding hairline at a time, since 1820!

So yeah, I’d be great at a procurement type of job for up there… Or down there. It all depend on where I end up really. Logistically speaking. I like to think that I am a good person; I always try to be kind and thoughtful, I say thank you, I don’t litter and most importantly, I don’t follow the shade room. An act of humanity right there. That’s probably not enough to even out the scale. Who am I kidding, one look at my E-reader history and it will tip back into eternal damnation territory.

Listen, I had a wattpad phase in my teen years and it taught me a lot of things about myself.

So I might never get any heavenly position due to my erm, blemished resume, but what I am currently, is a barely qualified cashier, with terrible anxiety and atrocious Mathematica skills. I might just be already in hell. You know, people do ridiculous and risque things in pursuit of an adrenaline rush. They jump off planes, ride rabid bulls for fun, commit crime, like their crushes photos from five years ago…On the other hand, all I have to do, is try to add prices without a calculator. I have limited fingers!

Also, making eye contact with a total stranger on the street is enough adrenaline rush.

You know what would happen if I attempted any of the things adrenaline junkies do for fun? A heart attack. I would Die, Steve! How am I so sure of that, you ask? Well, just because I haven’t done something, it doesn’t mean I don’t have an accurate understanding of how it would feel. I mean, I’m more delusion over rationale kinda girl but still, some things just aren’t it. I’ve never gone to a gynecologist but I know for a fact that it would suck. To have someone staring at my business in close proximity, with weapons of anarchy and a magnifying lens…total shriek!

I know its their job but…its my business, you know?

Also, falling in love. Yeah, I’m no expert on the matter but I’m convinced that if I can get over my trust issues ( I call it self defence) and eventually do fall in love, that shit will probably scare me so damn much, the Shock waves will induce cardiac arrest and I’ll kick it. Every crush I’ve ever had until now does not count. My self respect was out of commission back then. Still, I might be anti love some days but most days, I am a hopeless romantic. My expectations actually do suck sometimes. I don’t want to meet my soulmate on tinder or whatever app. No! Its supposed to be a once in a life time, stars aligning, gradual, yearning stares, stolen glances across rooms type of situation.

See, told ya I was delusional!

False advertising in relationships is a thing. Remember when shang From mulan found out that his little twink didn’t in fact have a sword he could play with? There is a correlation in there somewhere.. I think! I would lower my expectations but I don’t want to be like some of y’all. How are you dating but you’re single. And why are you staying up at night like a village witch, so that you can compose “I’m coming to you as a woman” texts. I swear the only thing lower than some of y’all relationship standards, was my self esteem when I was a teen. Dark times! Honestly, namshukuru mungu kila siku because, what the hell was that!.

Kuteseka kaende kaende style.

Now bestie, take a good look at your man Are you proud of that? We both know you only gave him your number in the first place because he looked like the type to burst your head open if you refused, don’t we?. Didn’t he skedaddle the fuck out after you showed him your five personalities, let him spin cartwheels on your unmentionables and provided him with an HD view of your ass crack! Its a fact that every girl has met at least one male who gave off the vibes that saying no to them, would trigger some unhealed, animalistic part of their brain and she’d end up lying dead in a ditch somewhere.

But what do I know, anyway!

Sometimes, I watch videos of people pushing themselves to the max and I am amazed. I wish I had the balls to jump of a plane and perform gymnastics on air. I wish I could ride a bicycle downhill without fear of snapping my neck. I wish I could jump across buildings without a parachute, just hallelujah and vibes! God blessed me with immense curiosity but made me a creature of habit. You want me to leave the safety of all I’ve ever known to go and toe the line between insanity and a one way ticket to Jesusville?

Okay, there’ll probably never be a day I’ll wake up and go, “oh, golly! Today feels like a good day to go skydiving!”. And you know what, I’m cool with that. Now, what sucks is the fact that I’ll never be kidnapped by a high fae… Its so sad that I will never read all books… Live all the lives I want. Maybe I want to change the world. Maybe I want to stay at home, knead bread, browse gossip columns and shop all day with my husbands money and give birth to thirteen children. Maybe I want to go to war, be in the front lines. Maybe I want to command boardrooms in stilettos sharp enough to kill. Maybe all I really want is to live in the middle of nowhere, with limited human contact and adopt a lot of animals, sleep on the forest floor and be absorbed by nature.

Maybe, just maybe I want it all. Sadly, the human experience is horribly limited and its such a shame that we have never evolved to be more than… Whatever this is. Is it even possible for us to ever be more though? Because as things stand right now, with the working class struggles across the globe, money driven societies, power angry leaders, control thirsty governments, individualism etc we set ourselves back from ever actualizing as a race. I don’t even know what that would actually look like.

All I know is that we can do so much more. We can be so much more. Look, I come form a generation that is fueled by poverty, anxiety medication and suicidal idealation. That and our collective humanity might just change the world. I am learning to deconstruct myself. To not be blind anymore. Nurturing a willingness to stay informed and educated.

You know, Privilege is invisible to those who have it. That’s why most people don’t even care about the slaughtering of Palestinian people in Gaza. The modern day slavery happening in Congo. The killings in Sudan. We are privileged enough to be safe. Privileged enough to change the channel when the news shows bodies lying on the streets. Privileged enough to know what stability feels like. Privileged enough to breath. Privileged enough to have a home. Privileged enough to have access to information.

Friend, see what happens to the world when you vote for power hungry, Judas Iscariot types with an obsessive need to over compensate by flaunting their power every ten business days? Friend, see why wars are created for profit? Friend, see why stability means bad business? Friend, see why most people would be okay with oppression as long as they benefitted from it? How’s your favorite celebrity doing.

Ugh!

How can you support a genocide or commission one for that matter when you literally look like an old fart. If an old 100 year old wizard on her death bed, who smelled like rust and armpit sweat, who was also guilty of the massacre of a hundred babies and puppies, farted before she kicked it and went down to Lucifer, then a maniac scientist with questionable credentials and bad breath took that essence and decided to Frankenstein a human with it, it would look like you! Pick a struggle beloved.

I sound like an angry black woman but alas! I am in fact easily angered, 100% percent back and unfortunately woman.

The customer is(n’t) always right.

Image:courtesy

My favorite part of mornings is those five seconds of bliss immediately after I wake up, where I have no recollection of who I am, my brain is quiet and I don’t remember that I am unemployed. I know I’ve had a good night when I wake up confused and submissive.

Those mornings though, are rare as fuck! Nowadays I wake up and think to myself, “girl, this is it. This is rock bottom. Things can’t possibly get any worse.” Immediately after, life answers back with, “bitch hold my beer” and proceeds to show me just how deep, rock bottom is. I swear, if I send one more unanswered application I will…. Aaaaaaah!! Not to be that person but I would do unholy things for a hug right now. Or a cold drink… Or a shot of tequila…or a shot to the head really.

I just want to lay on the sand and watch the sunset/stars.

A few days back, my mom and I went to sell stuff somewhere. There is this hill with a carving of mother Mary on top – its more like the statue of Jesus in Brazil?- where catholics go to pray once a year. Its a huge thing and people come from all over, so its good business. Unlike last time, I was (moderately) composed and ready to deal with rude customers and give out change.

See, last time I almost shit myself because the part of my brain that’s supposed to add and subtract went on a sabbatical. Not that it was ever in commission to begin with! Last year, I was giving out change with one hand while wiping my tears and sweat with the other. I wish I was kidding. Speaking of math, it was hard enough when it was just numbers, then they went and added complicated sentences and suddenly I was learning a whole new language.

What do you mean by, A train left the Station at some ungodly hour, broke down in the middle of nowhere, somehow had time to drop off harry and his friends at Hogwarts, and I should somehow know what distance it covered? Bitch how should I know. I wasn’t there, now was I?

Anyway, I might have prepared my socially awkward self for the day, but I failed to account for the sun. It was so damn hot it smelt like we were at a barbecue. We had carried a flimsy, hole ridden, paper thin, poor excuse of a tent but it didn’t help shit. In fact, we spend more than half the time trying to hold it together and prevent the wind from carrying it away.

I made two discoveries that day; one was that I could be really flexible when the situation called for it. Try stretching half of your limbs to hold on to a flying-carpet type of tent, one of your hands handing something over to a customer, your mouth arguing over the price and at the same time keep one eye on the rest of your stuff so it doesn’t get stolen, and another eye on a suspicious looking customer trying to make away without paying. I’m still a little cross-eyed.

Two, was that lips could get sunburnt too. Oh how I learnt that the hard way. My face made it out of that warzone okay- for the most part– but my lips? It was so bad! Imagine you get those Kylie Jenner lip fillers but before you can heal properly, a bee on a revenge mission bites you, and just because you’re having a bad day, you ran into your arch nemesis who lands a square one on your lips.

That was me. I looked at myself in the mirror and screamed. At least now I know that the plastic surgery route will never work for me. I couldn’t show my face in public without a mask for days. To be honest, I’d rather people think I have Covid than see me looking like I got bit a venomous snake.

I had to deal with the scorching sun, blinding dust in my eyes, painful lips and rude customers all at the same time. Not one of my finest moments, but I was this close to causing bodily harm to someone because lady, every part of my body hurts and I have over 20 years of unresolved anger issues. Lower your damn voice when you talk to me!

Bottom line is, I looked like shit …which is saying a lot because I look like shit most days.

My will to live falls to disastarly low levels every time I see my side profile.  Every time I accidentally take a picture from that angle, I have to take a minute to wonder just what the fuck is that! Then I remember that I have stood next people and they’ve probably turned to look at me…I… A moment of silence please!

Have you ever met an East African girl? I feel sorry for you if you haven’t. We are simply exceptional. We are blessed with a Lot of things…one of them is a forehead so big, its starting point is somewhere around the middle of our heads.

Have you worked in customer service? Trying to keep that smile on your face while attending to one of those customers is an art form. I can be showing you my molars but really, I’m seriously contemplating jumping over and fighting you woman to woman. Its a very sad realization that the only fighting I do, is fighting for my next breath!

In moments like those, I embrace my RBF. Normally, People confuse my I-have-anxiety please-don’t-approach-me-I-wont-know-how-to-act look, for my I-hate-you-and-I-hope-you-die look. I swear I’m really fun.. Once we get past the awkward doesn’t know how to talk to strangers bit.

I like to think of myself as soft hearted with anger issues. Its called balance. I’m a nice person-said no nice person ever-I love God, I’m respectful, kind, I don’t Litter and I always say thank you. However, some minions of Satan, cretins of evil and ambassadors of darkness really try to test my fragile self control. Have you ever met people who made you wish you were a ninja? People that are rude with zero provocation?

You’ve probably heard about white people privilege but have you heard of old People privilege? They say the meanest shit and get away with it because of old age and dementia.

The only reason I don’t give in to my animal Instincts with some of these people is because I am rich in hometraining and fear of God. And I also can’t fight… And I have crippling anxiety and the thought of someone shouting at me makes me want to cry… And I’m also a little bit of a people pleaser so I put up with alot of shit.

PS: The light at the and of my tunnel urgently needs a backup generator!

A warring world.

The world is literally going to shit and I have yet to meet the love of my life. Does that sound fair to you? And with the threat of a war on our hands, what if the person I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with gets drafted?

Can you imagine going toe to toe with a 16 years old, 7 feet, Russian giant called Dimitri, who has spend the last 20 years of his life training in subzero temperatures! I would shit my soul. I’m not even kidding.

Here’s what I think is happening in simple terms for those not politically informed like yours truly. Russia and Ukraine were in a long term relationship until Ukraine decided that she couldn’t do it anymore. Basically, Ukraine said to Russia, “its not you, its me” then dipped. Now Ukraine wants to fall in love with someone new (NATO) but her toxic ex boyfriend(Russia) won’t let her.

Its a freaking love triangle.

I might be on the other side of the planet from the actual conflict, but we all know how quickly things can go to shit. Do I look like I can survive a war? Missiles don’t discriminate and I have read enough about the previous world wars to know that some people tend to get trigger happy. The last thing I want is for missiles to be accidentally dropped at my backyard while I’m taking a shit.

The world does not need another Hiroshima and Nagasaki!

Also, human rights don’t exist in warfare… And I am a woman, we already don’t have many of those to begin with. Seriously, most casualties of war are usually the innocent. Someone tell Putin,”Stop! This isn’t you. Look at me… Look at me”.

The man has already warned the rest of the world to mind their ducking business or face the consequences. I come from a third world country in which half of its population is facing starvation, and the other half is drunk (including the president). We can’t take on Russia. If sanctions from the UN and US have not worked, what can little ol’ us do?

In this new age of nuclear artillery, memes and tiktok, a war would be catastrophic. I am a 22 year old with anxiety issues, and not to self diagnose or anything, but I am a mess. Still, I want to live long enough to see a therapist, buy my first car and own my dream house. The order isn’t important.

I might be getting ahead of myself but women don’t get drafted, right? Because if history is true -and it is- we can sit home and play house while the rest of the men go to the battlefield. I can definitely see the appeal in that. I as a woman, I am timid, I am fragile, I am weak, I can’t be trusted to make crucial decisions like which point to attack from, I deserve to stay at home like the womanly woman that I am.

I for one would not be much help in battle. I am as intimidating as a drooling 2 year old trying to bite your face off. I’d probably stand in the line of fire to end my suffering.

So yeah, war bad…peace good.

Innocent people don’t have to die just because grown men can’t let go of their Alpha cave man mentality. You don’t have to use force to get what you want. Ever heard of voodoo dolls or heck, talking things out?

PS: I hope things work out for everyone.