there are moments in my life, i specify my because i cannot purport to know what goes on in yours, but in my life, its basically a roller coaster ride...at first i used to ask, and wonder why it has to be so, and why almost everyone else has it seemingly smooth. i was in high school then, post high school i realised everyone has it shitty almost all the bloody time.
i am immensely blessed. i have a mother who would give an arm and a leg for me, the same arm and leg i would give mine to protect, so i figure, this little bubble my mummy and i have formed, is quite good to last me through the lifetime of crap that seems to be flung my way....by my own mind.
this roller coaster i mentioned, also happens to be in my head.
and here is the blessing...there are some rides i hear, that when you reach to the very top of it, before the damn thing drops, its all calmness, whistling winds and the type, except of course for your accelerated heart beat, and that is a moment of peace before the rush and the dread and the excitement. half my ride, it seems, is the fall. always the fall.. the climb to the top is so short, and sweet. imagine a lovely tea with chocolate eclairs kind of sweet...and then the sugar rush.....but before the sugar rush, there is that apex moment, of calmness...and dread, knowing its gonna fucking drop and you will be left whimpering in a corner.
you would think knowing this of yourself will make it easy...it does. here is why;
forever sorry for the over use of metaphors and the snotty fake English accent.
but we all know of hurricanes, and a vortex, yes...that...a whirlwind....we all know at the very center of it, is a calmness. while it rages, and rooftops are being blown off, people are getting blinded by the sand...you are safest at the center of it. i wish i could say in this likeness i am Storm, the goddess who controls the weathers, and in the midst of it all, she stands, hands raised, heart thumping, blood rushing...and she watches as the vortex swirls around her in destruction. but i fear i am not.
i wish i could also say i am jean, as she rises and becomes Phoenix...but we will see at the end of this if i am still standing...
but for now, in the center of this vortex, and at the top of the highest scariest roller coaster ride....i sit, have a cup of tea and treacle tart, bathed...immersed in silk and lace, perfect skin and freshly done nails... wine and heels that should cost what i am worth right now.
and i ride it out.
ta-ta sweethearts,
have an eclair..unless you are fat. you can eat a tampon like that girl on youtube.
Tuesday, 29 January 2013
Friday, 25 January 2013
rock papers scissors, screwed
its around three p.m where i am, on a Friday. am sitting at home, pretending to work on some school projects, but oh my God is it ever hard!!
i asked for an off day from the office to finish up some assignments and a dissertation that is giving me the side eye because we could get a bloody A on it, but i am not quite...into it...so much. -_-. boo hoo Lola, boo hoo.
i shouldnt even be taking this break, i have a conveyancing paper due in two hours..make that one and a half due to the time it will get me to get to school, also, a women in the legal process one that i cant be bothered with right now.. but i figured, oh you have your blogger dashboard on so maybe..why not...give it a poke...so here...poke poke poke...poke.....poke......someone stop me....poke.
oh i must tell you, i got to meet a favourite fan last week, and we had G&T at this lovely bar by the sea. it was full of open mouthed laughters and chain smoking on my part. i must say, looking forward to make good friends with you pappy.
on about the drink, the lady has turned me into a light weight i fear, i had a glass of wine, which by the way, i don't know why it did not come with a bucket of ice, got tepid a bit too fast. management, take care of this yes, and a double gin and tonic and i was scared to go pee...because grace, is not my strongest suits, sober...imagine when i am a teensy bit inebriated..i had a few silent chuckles with my reflection in the ladies and debated on returning a drunken call favor. thank heavens my heart pull out all the breaks on that one. not enough breaks that i got a card certified...okay, i did it, i do work in a law firm, and i thought....bbbbbhhh why not?
also, before i forget, remember when i had a rant about no battle of the bands...oh joy of joys, there is a gig coming up, and i will be there, flushed face and such, because well...rock and roll darlings.
i feel like this post feels pretentious, not a single cuss word in it, but oh the restraint, i used up all of mine cussing out the existence of this lovely little ratchet bitch (oh there it is) who decided to have an all out attack on bisexuals.and she dares call herself a writer, my lord, i could post the link for you, but i feel i have suffered enough for all of us. and i refuse to promote shameless tabloids. articulating your views and opinions is all well and good, but something has to be said about class. and while i am not the classiest of all, i know a skank when i see one...and i call skank. obviously, this still bothers me, so i will stop there.
blog review: a cute little darling friend of mine has a lovely blog on around here...go read it, it will earn you a chuckle or two, also, i think am cool enough to point out who else is cool (my Lord i just felt my head swell up a bit) . rantingredridinghood.blogspot.com is the place.
now, i know for sure i cannot wait for this day to end, hopefully with that land laws paper done, and then maybe i can convince the lady to make good use of my prezzie ;)
oh shuttup, its a wine pitcher, the sorts Il covo has.
ta darlings
cheers to the freaking weekend
i asked for an off day from the office to finish up some assignments and a dissertation that is giving me the side eye because we could get a bloody A on it, but i am not quite...into it...so much. -_-. boo hoo Lola, boo hoo.
i shouldnt even be taking this break, i have a conveyancing paper due in two hours..make that one and a half due to the time it will get me to get to school, also, a women in the legal process one that i cant be bothered with right now.. but i figured, oh you have your blogger dashboard on so maybe..why not...give it a poke...so here...poke poke poke...poke.....poke......someone stop me....poke.
oh i must tell you, i got to meet a favourite fan last week, and we had G&T at this lovely bar by the sea. it was full of open mouthed laughters and chain smoking on my part. i must say, looking forward to make good friends with you pappy.
on about the drink, the lady has turned me into a light weight i fear, i had a glass of wine, which by the way, i don't know why it did not come with a bucket of ice, got tepid a bit too fast. management, take care of this yes, and a double gin and tonic and i was scared to go pee...because grace, is not my strongest suits, sober...imagine when i am a teensy bit inebriated..i had a few silent chuckles with my reflection in the ladies and debated on returning a drunken call favor. thank heavens my heart pull out all the breaks on that one. not enough breaks that i got a card certified...okay, i did it, i do work in a law firm, and i thought....bbbbbhhh why not?
also, before i forget, remember when i had a rant about no battle of the bands...oh joy of joys, there is a gig coming up, and i will be there, flushed face and such, because well...rock and roll darlings.
i feel like this post feels pretentious, not a single cuss word in it, but oh the restraint, i used up all of mine cussing out the existence of this lovely little ratchet bitch (oh there it is) who decided to have an all out attack on bisexuals.and she dares call herself a writer, my lord, i could post the link for you, but i feel i have suffered enough for all of us. and i refuse to promote shameless tabloids. articulating your views and opinions is all well and good, but something has to be said about class. and while i am not the classiest of all, i know a skank when i see one...and i call skank. obviously, this still bothers me, so i will stop there.
blog review: a cute little darling friend of mine has a lovely blog on around here...go read it, it will earn you a chuckle or two, also, i think am cool enough to point out who else is cool (my Lord i just felt my head swell up a bit) . rantingredridinghood.blogspot.com is the place.
now, i know for sure i cannot wait for this day to end, hopefully with that land laws paper done, and then maybe i can convince the lady to make good use of my prezzie ;)
oh shuttup, its a wine pitcher, the sorts Il covo has.
ta darlings
cheers to the freaking weekend
Friday, 11 January 2013
A healing
i write this on a morning when my heart is heavy, for reasons i dare not think about. because they will crush me, so i am writing to you, to see if you are okay, where ever you will be, but i do hope it will be a Saturday morning like this, with a beautiful soul next to you, so tell me self,
how are you?have you survived? do you still want to live?
have you grown up?
how is your heart? is it still bruised? did you heal? did you figure out why you see dead people? why you dance with them?
i wish i could see you now, so you can tell me exactly how it is there. you know how much i hate surprises.
did we get that lovely bath tub we wanted? Victorian claw foot tub, with a gold coated taps, you know which one, did we?
how many times have we soaked it with blood....red wine?
how many times have we cried in it?
pain? pleasure...ecstasy. oh my Lord the ecstasy in pain.
if you read this, it means you have not yet managed to fall off that cliff i keep toeing. do you hate me for it? do you hate me for what i have done to us? do you wish you could slap me, or spit in my face, for being so weak and so fragile...because if you have made it this far, it means you are a strong little cookie darling,
you haven't crumbled yet....i pity, and envy you at the same time.
did it finally get better? the voices in your head? do they like you now Lola?
do you think you are beautiful now? did you find the skeletons i am looking for? tell me they are beautiful...
i wonder....did you run away? like i say i will? or did i grow to be even more spineless and pitiful? did we convince ourself to stay? and take it? take it everyday? that we were growing stronger?
have you realised yet it does not get better?
have you found out what makes you so sad all the fucking time?
i am getting angry at you, for not taking that leap when you could.
but i realised i shouldn't.
tell me, did we get married? are we so hopelessly in love? so magnificently, irrevocably in love? the kind of love we read about in a Judith Mcnaught book when we were sixteen and still believed? i want to meet this person, who has made you forget that humans cannot be trusted, this person who has managed to do this to you...this person you haven't driven away on the brink of insanity, this person who has not been chocked, poisoned by what the meaning and depth of your emotions is. how long have you been married for? is she beautiful? i bet she is...is he dashing? i bet he wears chinos more than he wears jeans. i bet he makes a good ramen like that boy from that time you were happy.
does your breathing still stop everytime she smiles at you? did you convince her on that trip to actually marry you? how did that go? did she say more than just "okay" like you did in that bed with girl with the most beautiful laugh and the most enchanting eyes.
do you have that cosy little loft on top of the hill with a view?
do you have a balcony? oh how magnificent our nights must be, a tub, a balcony, a lover, and a glass of wine.
i wonder what you look like, what you like to do now,
i hope you got better, and that you are not so sad almost all the time,
i pray there are no cliffs to dance on, and no corpses to smile at.
mostly, i pray you are healed.
love,
Broken Lola
guitar riffs and blue panties
i woke up in a not-so-good-mood. check previous post.
Girl, got me some albums because i no listen to music since my comp crashed and i don't have time between work and class to download shit to my phone....also, not that many great a choice on mo-phone sites for good music.
she doesn't listen to metal.guuuh. IKR!! but i got her to like Chop Suey and Toxicity a bit. she will NOT listen to Black Dahlia Murder...or she thinks she wont...muhahahaha.
so now playing...Trivium- Master of Puppets. do you know what this song reminds me...BoTB. MY LAWWD what happened to this amazing event that had me travel 8hours in the cheapest bus to nairobi for a night of debauchery?? like seriously????!
for those of who..(so uncool btw, like fuck you) do not know how awesome Battle of The Bands was....this was why.
MUSIC.
i can't say i have good taste in music, in fact, i have the worst taste in music, why lie...after this playlist, ill probably play a K-pop playlist....or taraab cause am coastal and shit.
but now, lets talk about heavy (or what i think is heavy, we have an understanding with bechah that shit i listen to is not heavy. but meh.)
i stay in Mombasa...the rock gigs we have...or when it fikaz like 3a.m and a club is playing 'rock' its always Bon Jovi and that ka one last breath song and whats his face Nickelback.
BoTB was the one chance...ONE CHANCE motherfuckers, i had to listen to heavy stuff...really really really loud! you would be at the entrance at Choices right, and you hear some MCR...but funny shit is btw, i always heard Breaking Benjamin at the entrance, like i would get to Choices and a Breaking benjamin song...something like...u take the breath right out of me....would play, NOSTALGIA like whatnuw??! anyway, so you would listen to that...and then that corner to the basement, and you start having mini orgasms at the different tones...and this is where i have to try soo hard not to frig myself to death before getting to the mosh pit.
but then i get the urge too when i'm on the street and Gojira comes on to my playlist and i want to mosh and wank at the same time...how weird....ly hot!
...then our bands!! OMG!!! i met one of my closest friends...holla ducky...when he was on stage performing Chop Suey...and it was fucking epic...we had just got in right, and this guy who had just friend requested me THAT morning, and had a massive bitching bash at rocktoberfest' because well, pussies, with goes on stage and i creamed...no, i did not forget the 'S' in that word. and Crystal Axis??! and Last Years Tragedy?? and OMG everything yeah??
basically, i used to go to it to get off on the music *schlick schlick* (thats fap fap for me cause i have a vag)
PEOPLE
if you bond at BotB with someone...that bond is unbreakable...lool...what beautiful amazing people, i refuse, vehemently to use brutal...but yeah..YOU GUYS FUCKING RULE. i had no friends in mombasa because, what's the point if i see guys at the end of the month, listen to good music, make out at some random fence, and smoke some kush?
all those random conversations that went like,
"some guy has weed"
"you know him?'
"nah, i know his friend."
"cool, lets join in"
awesome people share joints...mpaka with the askaris you guy.
this to you all..
the convos about irish men nipples and sex versus...well sex.
and OMG that time i was intro'd to mahia and i fan girled like
(**',) no really
"Mahia, this is Lola, she thinks you're cool"
me: (**)
Mahia: Hi! nice to meet you
me: (**)
Bechah: LOL say something!
Me: (**,) :D :D
Mahia:........
Bechah: LOOOOOOOLLL *facepalm*
Me: *waves*
Mahia...well...i um...gotta go perform...er..nice to meet you
me: *waves* (**,)
i am not joking!!
buut, there were those people who annoyed the hell out of me!! like some random ratchet bitches off of facebook who would be like...ooh you saw me and never said hi you a snob....bitch i dont know you, but clearly you do..so say hello!!!
and that random bitch who pulled an Avril and showed us her ugly knickers??
and who goes to a gig like that in sandals??
my eyes hurt, n i need cuddles, so am signing off.
but i miss BoTB, i miss leaving my Friday Class to get on a bus just for it every month.
I miss seeing Shii in his leather jacket and his english accent, Vick and his awesome tees...thanks for the discographies you guy, i miss you mucho mucho.
i miss Fagslut trying not to fall on his ass,
I miss Bechah trippy and giggly,
i miss those really hot emo sluts you can only look and not touch because....herpes.
someone do something about bringing it back?? not these random gigs that i find out how cool they were THE MORNING AFTER.
nhu...now playing...Machine Head- Wolves.
p.s, i should have been working on my dissertation. lool
ciao motherfuckers \M/
Girl, got me some albums because i no listen to music since my comp crashed and i don't have time between work and class to download shit to my phone....also, not that many great a choice on mo-phone sites for good music.
she doesn't listen to metal.guuuh. IKR!! but i got her to like Chop Suey and Toxicity a bit. she will NOT listen to Black Dahlia Murder...or she thinks she wont...muhahahaha.
so now playing...Trivium- Master of Puppets. do you know what this song reminds me...BoTB. MY LAWWD what happened to this amazing event that had me travel 8hours in the cheapest bus to nairobi for a night of debauchery?? like seriously????!
for those of who..(so uncool btw, like fuck you) do not know how awesome Battle of The Bands was....this was why.
MUSIC.
i can't say i have good taste in music, in fact, i have the worst taste in music, why lie...after this playlist, ill probably play a K-pop playlist....or taraab cause am coastal and shit.
but now, lets talk about heavy (or what i think is heavy, we have an understanding with bechah that shit i listen to is not heavy. but meh.)
i stay in Mombasa...the rock gigs we have...or when it fikaz like 3a.m and a club is playing 'rock' its always Bon Jovi and that ka one last breath song and whats his face Nickelback.
BoTB was the one chance...ONE CHANCE motherfuckers, i had to listen to heavy stuff...really really really loud! you would be at the entrance at Choices right, and you hear some MCR...but funny shit is btw, i always heard Breaking Benjamin at the entrance, like i would get to Choices and a Breaking benjamin song...something like...u take the breath right out of me....would play, NOSTALGIA like whatnuw??! anyway, so you would listen to that...and then that corner to the basement, and you start having mini orgasms at the different tones...and this is where i have to try soo hard not to frig myself to death before getting to the mosh pit.
...then our bands!! OMG!!! i met one of my closest friends...holla ducky...when he was on stage performing Chop Suey...and it was fucking epic...we had just got in right, and this guy who had just friend requested me THAT morning, and had a massive bitching bash at rocktoberfest' because well, pussies, with goes on stage and i creamed...no, i did not forget the 'S' in that word. and Crystal Axis??! and Last Years Tragedy?? and OMG everything yeah??
basically, i used to go to it to get off on the music *schlick schlick* (thats fap fap for me cause i have a vag)
PEOPLE
if you bond at BotB with someone...that bond is unbreakable...lool...what beautiful amazing people, i refuse, vehemently to use brutal...but yeah..YOU GUYS FUCKING RULE. i had no friends in mombasa because, what's the point if i see guys at the end of the month, listen to good music, make out at some random fence, and smoke some kush?
all those random conversations that went like,
"some guy has weed"
"you know him?'
"nah, i know his friend."
"cool, lets join in"
awesome people share joints...mpaka with the askaris you guy.
this to you all..
the convos about irish men nipples and sex versus...well sex.
and OMG that time i was intro'd to mahia and i fan girled like
(**',) no really
"Mahia, this is Lola, she thinks you're cool"
me: (**)
Mahia: Hi! nice to meet you
me: (**)
Bechah: LOL say something!
Me: (**,) :D :D
Mahia:........
Bechah: LOOOOOOOLLL *facepalm*
Me: *waves*
Mahia...well...i um...gotta go perform...er..nice to meet you
me: *waves* (**,)
buut, there were those people who annoyed the hell out of me!! like some random ratchet bitches off of facebook who would be like...ooh you saw me and never said hi you a snob....bitch i dont know you, but clearly you do..so say hello!!!
and that random bitch who pulled an Avril and showed us her ugly knickers??
my eyes hurt, n i need cuddles, so am signing off.
but i miss BoTB, i miss leaving my Friday Class to get on a bus just for it every month.
I miss seeing Shii in his leather jacket and his english accent, Vick and his awesome tees...thanks for the discographies you guy, i miss you mucho mucho.
i miss Fagslut trying not to fall on his ass,
I miss Bechah trippy and giggly,
i miss those really hot emo sluts you can only look and not touch because....herpes.
someone do something about bringing it back?? not these random gigs that i find out how cool they were THE MORNING AFTER.
nhu...now playing...Machine Head- Wolves.
p.s, i should have been working on my dissertation. lool
ciao motherfuckers \M/
ramble ramble
its one of those mornings, maybe its my toothache, maybe its the weird dreams i have been having, but its time,
the one thing i am most scared of, is pain. i admit to be one of those people who will over think shit. i will analyse, and nit pick at a situation before i put in...anything. its boring, its cautious....its safe. you do not get hurt like that. if you look at a situation, and decide, there is three to four percent chance of me being hurt, i walk away, and that has served me best in the past.
pain.
the thought of it makes my blood run cold.
it scares me.
i am not proud of this, but again, i accept, i cannot deal with emotional turmoil, which is odd, because i live to write angst. but i cannot, for the life of me take it.
at some point in my life, i was in therapy (please do not run away, despite my madness, for i am not sane, i feel i want you to know me) and my therapist put forth that maybe i am a perfectionist, if i cannot have the best of something, i will not have it at all, which, i must say was total hogwash. proof of is my battered heart and body. but to some extent, i must agree with her, if i cannot do something to the very best of my effort, it will kill me, but to myself, my efforts are never enough, so either way, i never win. and what a life that must be, where you always lose, against your family, your friends...and yourself.
that calmness i talked about two posts pasts, has passed it seems, because all i want to do is give up. i am ever so tired. physically, mentally, spiritually...or perhaps its my tooth ache speaking.
but i am tired.
and it seems so is everyone in my life. everywhere i turn, someone is hurting somewhere. and it really sucks, and i wish i could help, heal, for that is what i am named.
i have digressed so much, i cannot even remember why i started this.
i should be in bed, with this amazing girl, but i can't.
its all about assessing the situation no?
so here i sit, and make the dumbest decision of my life,
the one thing i am most scared of, is pain. i admit to be one of those people who will over think shit. i will analyse, and nit pick at a situation before i put in...anything. its boring, its cautious....its safe. you do not get hurt like that. if you look at a situation, and decide, there is three to four percent chance of me being hurt, i walk away, and that has served me best in the past.
pain.
the thought of it makes my blood run cold.
it scares me.
i am not proud of this, but again, i accept, i cannot deal with emotional turmoil, which is odd, because i live to write angst. but i cannot, for the life of me take it.
at some point in my life, i was in therapy (please do not run away, despite my madness, for i am not sane, i feel i want you to know me) and my therapist put forth that maybe i am a perfectionist, if i cannot have the best of something, i will not have it at all, which, i must say was total hogwash. proof of is my battered heart and body. but to some extent, i must agree with her, if i cannot do something to the very best of my effort, it will kill me, but to myself, my efforts are never enough, so either way, i never win. and what a life that must be, where you always lose, against your family, your friends...and yourself.
that calmness i talked about two posts pasts, has passed it seems, because all i want to do is give up. i am ever so tired. physically, mentally, spiritually...or perhaps its my tooth ache speaking.
but i am tired.
and it seems so is everyone in my life. everywhere i turn, someone is hurting somewhere. and it really sucks, and i wish i could help, heal, for that is what i am named.
i have digressed so much, i cannot even remember why i started this.
i should be in bed, with this amazing girl, but i can't.
its all about assessing the situation no?
so here i sit, and make the dumbest decision of my life,
Thursday, 10 January 2013
cock over tits and reverse.
still cannot write angsty fics atm. so yeeaahhh here is a rant.
i have a problem with names. i think one of the many Holy Books says something about calling something a name and it shall be so. a pen is a pen because you name it so. if i call it a feniakal, then it fucking so yeah?
hi, my name is Lola( still trying that Moby Dick effect..no? oh come on). without the name Lola, i am a faceless stranger, i am part of the crowd, i can be who so ever i wish to be. but the minute i say i am Lola. i embody the name, that will be my identity.
Similarly, i have this problem with most feminists, and rainbow coloured people, black people, asians, etc.
with a name, an identity is formed. I get that human beings are creatures that crave identity. but have you ever stopped to think that with your identity, you create, subconsciously of course, certain restrictions to your own person?
and yes, i do understand, that if you do not identify yourself, someone else will. but do you need to identify yourself with how someone else sees you?
i am Lola. I am a woman.
and certainly i will be identified with what i call myself, enter feminists, and your never ending woes of discrimination. have you ever thought that by calling yourself a woman, you expect....anticipate even, this discrimination you think you see against your person and everyone else of your gender?
i am a feminist, but my problem lies with women who cry foul about sexual segregation, and they are the first to tell their little boys, " do not do those dishes, that is a woman's work." shame on you.
i know, and see, that us dark skinned, melanin filled people face discrimination but have you thought that, the very idea of you being black, makes your spine curve and your head bow when you enter an establishment rumored to favour those with fancy coloured eyes? why not walk in with the pride and poise your mama must have surely instilled in you? the same way you would walk into Mama Amina's kiosk, full of confidence and laughter and gait..are you still with me?
now rainbow coloured people, yes, you.
before i knew that liking both girls and boys is weird, or you shouldn't like people of the same sex...note, feminists, and my brothers who crave to be sisters and sisters who have a curious case of penis envy, like yours truly, not gender...sex..which, was until when? last year? lol, i was sheltered. i would have no problem with walking down the street holding my best friends hands...because it was cool, it didn't mean anything, but when i realised we were called bisexuals, or gay, and many other names out there...i can't hold a girls hand in public, because, surely, they can tell i like her?, because i have been called bisexual, i will call myself bisexual, and i will expect people to treat me as a bisexual. because people call you a woman, you see yourself as a woman, and you will expect to be treated as a woman. because you are black....and so on and so forth
while identity is needed for solidarity, and a sense of community, how you identify yourself, will also affect how you think of yourself, and that is what i am advocating against. when you are sitting in a corner, moaning about being discriminated against because you like cock, or tits, or you are black, or a woman....ask yourself if by anticipating said discrimination, you did not contribute to how people perceive you.
hi, my name is Lola, i am a person, i like a person, and i will settle down with whoever i fall in love with.
hi, my name is Lola, i am a woman, i like a girl, i like boys too, i can settle down with a boy or a girl.
hi, my name is Lola, i am a woman, i want a cock.
ta-ta darlings.
i have a problem with names. i think one of the many Holy Books says something about calling something a name and it shall be so. a pen is a pen because you name it so. if i call it a feniakal, then it fucking so yeah?
hi, my name is Lola( still trying that Moby Dick effect..no? oh come on). without the name Lola, i am a faceless stranger, i am part of the crowd, i can be who so ever i wish to be. but the minute i say i am Lola. i embody the name, that will be my identity.
Similarly, i have this problem with most feminists, and rainbow coloured people, black people, asians, etc.
with a name, an identity is formed. I get that human beings are creatures that crave identity. but have you ever stopped to think that with your identity, you create, subconsciously of course, certain restrictions to your own person?
and yes, i do understand, that if you do not identify yourself, someone else will. but do you need to identify yourself with how someone else sees you?
i am Lola. I am a woman.
and certainly i will be identified with what i call myself, enter feminists, and your never ending woes of discrimination. have you ever thought that by calling yourself a woman, you expect....anticipate even, this discrimination you think you see against your person and everyone else of your gender?
i am a feminist, but my problem lies with women who cry foul about sexual segregation, and they are the first to tell their little boys, " do not do those dishes, that is a woman's work." shame on you.
i know, and see, that us dark skinned, melanin filled people face discrimination but have you thought that, the very idea of you being black, makes your spine curve and your head bow when you enter an establishment rumored to favour those with fancy coloured eyes? why not walk in with the pride and poise your mama must have surely instilled in you? the same way you would walk into Mama Amina's kiosk, full of confidence and laughter and gait..are you still with me?
now rainbow coloured people, yes, you.
before i knew that liking both girls and boys is weird, or you shouldn't like people of the same sex...note, feminists, and my brothers who crave to be sisters and sisters who have a curious case of penis envy, like yours truly, not gender...sex..which, was until when? last year? lol, i was sheltered. i would have no problem with walking down the street holding my best friends hands...because it was cool, it didn't mean anything, but when i realised we were called bisexuals, or gay, and many other names out there...i can't hold a girls hand in public, because, surely, they can tell i like her?, because i have been called bisexual, i will call myself bisexual, and i will expect people to treat me as a bisexual. because people call you a woman, you see yourself as a woman, and you will expect to be treated as a woman. because you are black....and so on and so forth
while identity is needed for solidarity, and a sense of community, how you identify yourself, will also affect how you think of yourself, and that is what i am advocating against. when you are sitting in a corner, moaning about being discriminated against because you like cock, or tits, or you are black, or a woman....ask yourself if by anticipating said discrimination, you did not contribute to how people perceive you.
hi, my name is Lola, i am a person, i like a person, and i will settle down with whoever i fall in love with.
hi, my name is Lola, i am a woman, i like a girl, i like boys too, i can settle down with a boy or a girl.
hi, my name is Lola, i am a woman, i want a cock.
ta-ta darlings.
Sunday, 6 January 2013
Literature and calmness. bitches be tripping
there is this calmness within me that scares me. there are many sort of calmness, and tranquility, the one full of content, and joy, where you want to sit by the balcony and watch the sunset with a glass of merlot and cigarette. i crave that sort of calmness. my calm, is the dangerous kind...its the kind that warns me of stormy waters right ahead. it should come with a ahoy! ahoy! in manner of Moby Dick.
speaking of, i want the calmness that Ishmael talks about when he is at sea, the one that will make me write a book that starts with : my name is Ishmael.
and centuries later, it is the epitome of all that is modern art, a satire from a tale about the search of calmness.
in the story; i am talking about Moby Dick, if its not yet clear, and if you have not read this book, that's okay, sad, but okay. see...this calmness i mention, i cannot even be irked that you have not experienced a great piece of literature. isn't it dangerous? can you taste the knife i will probably hold to your throat when we next meet? i can. the taste of blade....is peaceful. as i was saying, in the book, Ishmael goes to sea when his emotions are twirly, not the randy kind of twirly, but yea, sorta. his going to sea is similar to most of you punching a wall, and breaking a bathroom mirror. he goes in search of calmness, but does not find it there...he meets of course, Moby Dick. now go read it. be cultured you heathen.
i said, for those who are on my facebook. that this year, i will take no bullshit. and hence the calmness.
i wish i could express the danger that is this calm. let me see,
its when i text my boss and instead of a straight forward yes or no reply, he calls and talks for two minutes about shit. its all good.
its when i walk into the office with a serrated knife and stab him repeatedly, with a serene smile on my face, while inside, i am on a beautiful ship having an iced coffee, after i steal the knife from the serial killer. so peaceful.
its when my brothers make my mom cry, and its good.
its when i slash them as they brush their teeth, with a soft laugh, while singing am so happy and lovely and gay softly.
but one thing i cannot be calm about is crap friendship. and this post is becoming longer than i intended it to be, talking about this calmness, that might make me a celebrity
a girl skins her boss with a serrated knife in Mombasa, and she says....its all good. namaste.
again, i digress
i said it, if you cannot be the best friend to me, kindly walk out, and if i cannot be the best friend you need, in kind, i shall walk out.
we have acquaintances, colleagues, friends and best friends.
when push comes to shove, my best friends will always win out...even over my family. because they become my family.
Moby Dick appears in form of a tiff that may not end well between two of the closest people to me. and the calmness in me might lead me and a serrated knife, onto the whale's back. and whilst singing a soft lullaby, put it to sleep.
ta-ta darlings
speaking of, i want the calmness that Ishmael talks about when he is at sea, the one that will make me write a book that starts with : my name is Ishmael.
and centuries later, it is the epitome of all that is modern art, a satire from a tale about the search of calmness.
in the story; i am talking about Moby Dick, if its not yet clear, and if you have not read this book, that's okay, sad, but okay. see...this calmness i mention, i cannot even be irked that you have not experienced a great piece of literature. isn't it dangerous? can you taste the knife i will probably hold to your throat when we next meet? i can. the taste of blade....is peaceful. as i was saying, in the book, Ishmael goes to sea when his emotions are twirly, not the randy kind of twirly, but yea, sorta. his going to sea is similar to most of you punching a wall, and breaking a bathroom mirror. he goes in search of calmness, but does not find it there...he meets of course, Moby Dick. now go read it. be cultured you heathen.
i said, for those who are on my facebook. that this year, i will take no bullshit. and hence the calmness.
i wish i could express the danger that is this calm. let me see,
its when i text my boss and instead of a straight forward yes or no reply, he calls and talks for two minutes about shit. its all good.
its when i walk into the office with a serrated knife and stab him repeatedly, with a serene smile on my face, while inside, i am on a beautiful ship having an iced coffee, after i steal the knife from the serial killer. so peaceful.
its when my brothers make my mom cry, and its good.
its when i slash them as they brush their teeth, with a soft laugh, while singing am so happy and lovely and gay softly.
but one thing i cannot be calm about is crap friendship. and this post is becoming longer than i intended it to be, talking about this calmness, that might make me a celebrity
a girl skins her boss with a serrated knife in Mombasa, and she says....its all good. namaste.
again, i digress
i said it, if you cannot be the best friend to me, kindly walk out, and if i cannot be the best friend you need, in kind, i shall walk out.
we have acquaintances, colleagues, friends and best friends.
when push comes to shove, my best friends will always win out...even over my family. because they become my family.
Moby Dick appears in form of a tiff that may not end well between two of the closest people to me. and the calmness in me might lead me and a serrated knife, onto the whale's back. and whilst singing a soft lullaby, put it to sleep.
ta-ta darlings
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