Stranger than fiction


Our bodies are warm milk left on window sill,

Our legs are roots we spent lifetimes taming.

Our bodies are ants collecting,

Our bodies are late winters and monsoon rains.

That’s my current favourite verse from Ramna Safeer’s Fifth grade history.

I used it because that’s the first thing that came to mind. This is not a poetry or fiction post, it’s a review of my year.

Let me attempt to botch the entire year in two halves; the good stuff and the not so great stuff.

Where do I start?

The beginning methinks.

I stumbled into 2014. 2013 had drained hope out of me. On the 2nd of January, I lost my phone and my purse. It wasn’t the most expensive phone, I don’t even remember being pained about it, but it wasn’t a great start to the year. The first quarter was tough; I was in a dark place. I entered the year with a lot of misgivings.

In February, I quit my job. I had been working as a Networks and Systems administrator for 3 years. I hated the routine, but I didn’t hate the job. I just got tired and weighed down. I had no-back up plan. I just needed to get out. I figured it was better to be home and attempt clearing up the clutter in my head than stay at a job and mess up my good work record. And so I quit.

And stayed home for one month. In April I got a job that was completely unrelated to my degree but in sync with one of my passions, and so far, it has been good. I have learnt a lot this year and I’m glad for the experience.

My clothing line has picked up so well this year! It’s definitely nowhere near where I envision it to be but it has been a good year. I launched two collections and had one major fashion show! Next year will be even better (applauses her own damn  self :p)

Poetry has been good to me. I wrote more poetry, I had more poetry gigs and performed on a lot of stages this year. Stage fright still resides in my belly but it has been a good year for Poetra. I have grown as a writer and a performer, and I keep growing. You should come for all of my shows next year J it will be awesome, I promise.

I just spent 1 minute saying fuck you to my laptop because this machine is just a desktop in disguise. If you’re a rich sultan out there and you want to dash me a laptop, feel free.

(Okay, back to review)

There is forgiveness and then there is forgetting.

They are as different as salt and sugar, but neither of them tastes sweet;

Swallow one or swallow both, but never let anyone tell you which to choose

 

I entered 2014 with a vow to never forgive someone.

Heavy statement, I know.

You know how long it takes to make beans stew right? First you have to painstakingly take the stones out of the beans, cook it very well before you proceed to actually making the stew. Yeah, that’s how long it takes for me to sincerely take any wrong thing done to me to heart. So for me to have once written that I would never forgive someone, meant it took a lot of pain for me to get there. But, after 201 days, (it was my brain that counted o, not me) I learnt to let go of the pain, forgive and look on with fondness and a wise smile.

Time had nothing to do with it, like Wanlov will say, “time is not a doctor”.

It takes a lot of will to let go.

Even though I still do not know the relevance of why some things happen, I’m grateful for every experience.

My god, I was so fucking broke in 2013. Man, I bet if you looked up “fucking broke” in the dictionary in 2013 you would see my name in capital letters there. But this year? *waves handkerchief* financial liberty. (If you know you owe me tho, pay up -__-)

Next year I’ll be a rich tycoon. Can I get an Amen?

Two of my neighbours died this year. One in her sleep and one in an MTN queue to get her chip unblocked. It still saddens me.

My body hasn’t been good to me. It’s been a difficult year with this body. I almost had a minor surgery, and half of the time I was in so much pain my family members were giving me painkillers as presents. My mother comes home with the right painkillers and I want to hug her like she just bought me a box of chocolates. Unfortunately, a new year doesn’t come with a new body (I would’ve asked for a fatter ass) but it comes with a will to be stronger. And so I’m here regardless, pill in left hand, smile well-positioned on face.

I read more books than I read last year; didn’t meet my goal of four books a month, but I did some. Reading is slowly becoming a reliable solitude. Reading has saved me this year.

I almost lost a friend to death; not once, but twice.

And I’m still waiting for another to come back home.

It was scary knowing I couldn’t stop it.

I have been told again and again that “not everyone can be saved”.

This statement best sums up everything I feel about that –

“I am a sum of all the women I try to save”

It is so hard for me to give up on the people in my life; because I’m no different from them, we’re all on the edge of the mountain, and I would want to be saved too should I ever attempt jumping off the cliff. I don’t want to be given up on too.

God, I didn’t give up on you this year, but I wasn’t there as much as I should’ve been. This year, one of my struggles has been explaining you to broken people. I haven’t had the words or the understanding, maybe because I have felt broken myself. And sometimes I have walked out on you and dared you to chase after me, but you’re still here, both in the chaos and in the stillness of my heart.

I met some amazing people this year, and the old friends are still here with me, loving me all the way.

Selasie, you’re always always here. I love you

Edith; ladies and gentlemen, if you see me in town and you give me too much attention she won’t hesitate to let you know I’m her girlfriend. Lol. You’ve been here every day; I love you better than Sandra ice cream loves your tastebuds

Nessa boo, this year I realized we’re alike in more ways than one. I’m glad to have you. Love you!

Nanama, partner, we’ve been through things individually this year, and we’ve risen above each one. I love you, buy me chocolate and wine -_-

Seddie, my long distance lover. Love always.

Novisie, you’re the definition of old wine that gets better with age. I heart you

Jeffery, (yes, I still get to call you Jeffery) people think we are dating but they don’t know I’m the best wingman ever who can tell if a girl is good for you by the way her ass shakes. You’re an amazing friend I can always count on (you haven’t bought me manos in such a long time tho -__-)

Dru, don’t you go forgetting for even a second that I’ll always be here. I love you!

Crystal, you’re my forever inspiration. I love you this big *spreads arms*

Sharon, known you for just six months but I love you! You remind me of me!

Akyana, your unfading believe in me keeps me going

Jason, you’re a proverbial asshole, no I don’t love you lol. You just need to be told. I appreciate you on days that start with T

Jaan, at one point in time there was truth to this name. I appreciate you for that.

Danny, your resilience gives me faith. When the money comes, remember me in paradise and Fadama.

I cannot write everybody’s name but know that my heart beats for you. Buy me chocolate please.

The year didn’t end like I wanted it to.

I am the kind of person that things take a while before it registers; my circuit doesn’t relay the message to the brain fast enough. I can take months to ‘deal’ with things. Perfect recipe for madness, but oh well.

There have been moments and words that have made me wish I could snatch my vulnerability back

Grief held its hands around my throat and I was stuck between rushing it and nursing it.

I have experienced things in ways I shouldn’t have had to.

I sought to make sense of it but silence eyeballed me.

The language of things unsaid lies dead in my throat. It festers in my brain like an open wound

Still, everybody in my life this year has been a blessing.

Federico Garcia Lorca said

“And I tell you that you should open yourselves to hearing an authentic poet, of the kind whose bodily senses were shaped in a world that is not our own and that few people are able to perceive. A poet closer to death than to philosophy, closer to pain than to intelligence, closer to blood than to ink.”

 

I have felt closer to death than to philosophy

Closer to pain than to intelligence

Closer to blood than to ink

It can only get better.

My sister got me sexy lace panties for Christmas. Guess who’s going to be walking around in them for no other reason than sheer brilliance and for the fact that my bum cheeks and lace panties have a beautiful love affair? 🙂

2015 is going to be fucking amazing

See you!!

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4 responses to “Stranger than fiction

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