August ended patchy and September started off great and then I crashed. This month has been puzzling despite the front I put up on my statuses. It’s hardly a front still because I feel one way one time and another way the next. My fickle state of mind should be in an exhibition. It would be themed, The Fickle State, perhaps The Fragile State. I look calm but when I roar, I roar loud; pretty scary to those who know me for years, even worse to those just trying to figure me out. Who am I anyway? I’m still the same person trying to find self. I know what I’m susceptible to, after that is a blank stare. The puzzles should fall in as I move along this space that forms a path as I walk through…whatever mehn.
Welcome to September. Hope yours didn’t start off as shitty as mine. I got yelled out on the phone earlier this week. I didn’t yell back; that would be a waste of my time. I had done enough yelling this week plus she has senior authority and she is doing the job of a freaking analyst. It sucks to be her so I couldn’t blame her for blaming me at the time. In retrospect there are a couple of things I could have told her…like calm your self down, or shut the hell up, or how is that my f’n problem? Then I would have gotten called by HR…then I might have lost my job; which isn’t such a bad thing sometimes. That’s not the story though. That’s actually stale gist. My motto at work is, “it’s really not that serious”. I’m still working on applying that in other aspects of my life; I’m still working on convincing myself that other things are really not that serious. I say it but I don’t live it. Still trying to tell myself that life is too short so there’s no use perching that dress…just wear it already.
I was in houstatlantavegas a couple of days ago. Such a jaded lifestyle, I don’t envy the stars. I’m glad that I can admire them from afar. It’s so lonely up there, though they look all close from a distance. I’m speaking in all levels of context. Pick whichever you want. Think however you want. The stars are so lonely. I wonder if it’s really cold in the stratosphere – what sphere are they on anyhow? I sat at the dinner table. Sparkling water, oven baked bread that no one touched and a Cameroonian “prince” who was just freed from prison. He knows Venus Williams. He could have gotten me to the US open to watch Venus play. I stare at this guy…this guyyyy! Why were you in prison to begin with? I can’t ask; there is an unspoken don’t ask, don’t tell code. To ask would mean that I am interested. I am disinterested but I still oblige him and I wonder how soon I’ll get home and how soon I’ll forget.
There are a couple of people whom I want to make cry; like this lumpy pounded yam stuffed into human skin. Once I was told that I have a bad mouth and many times I have used it as a weapon. It’s my only defense. Take my voice and I’m dead. I have to speak. I’m not a talkative though…I observe, keenly for that matter. I’m still learning how to refrain from talking back; still learning to pick my battles; still learning to be still. In the meantime, I’m still Edede; work with me.