I write..

directions please?

My minds mouth –

So in my old young age do I find myself incapacitated by my inability to filter my conscious thoughts from my verbalized thoughts. This is a problem in that not all of ones thoughts are PC, appropriate, well thought out, relevant or even at times coherent. I’m like a Math whiz, and that’s paying myself a compliment, in that I don’t always show the method in which I solved the problem, but instead jump to the conclusion leave the gaps in between that give one the necessary marks to be the supposed Math whiz. I’m the plot that is missing the 2nd act, jumps to the third and final act leaving a chasm of confused and not so amused audience members in the middle.

My thoughts take on this pompous put-on high register tone and voice, that everyone, including me, knows is made-up and affected, and I can’t stand affected people. I can’t and don’t allow others to speak as I find any tactic that will lead the conversation back to me and the running commentary on my, at times, mundane life.
I finally let the poor captive walk away, conversation ending only as a result of the distance created between my audience and myself, at which point my body is overcome with relief from being held my very own captive, as the voice that is the understudy for my conscious stream of thought, is acting out the angst and utter mortification at everything that I’ve managed to say in the 2 minute long conversation I’ve just had.

Talking is exhausting, holding a 3 way conversation with just yourself is is a fulltime job – and I’ve been doing overtime.

VOICE 1: Hey, you guys are styling tonight?
VOICE 2: You guys look fucken gay!
VOICE 3: shut up, shut up.
VOICE 2: Ja, but why would a grown man dress like Chris Brown.

Voice 2 always has the last say.

Voice two wins all the time, unfiltered, Camel like in strength, brutally honest at best, irreverent, inconsiderate – obnoxious and could care less what other people think.

This post makes me sound so crazy, but aren’t we all?
Aren’t we?

Well I think it’s me. The old me.
But who wants to simply be a new version of their old self.
I’m referring to the part that made me – ME.
I feel a surge of inspiration, like I’ve felt before
(I guess that’s the old part)
And I haven’t felt it in a long time, not in this way, this shape, this form that it’s taking. It’s so familiar.
My breath is taken — I guess I seek this high all the time.
My own supply – dealer and user in one.
SMDH.

So, that light at the end of the tunnel keeps going on and off like its got a faulty bulb. As soon as I get close enough, I’m going to change that bulb, put something eco-friendly, long lasting and energy saving.

But that might take me while since I’m stuck in career quicksand. Have cracked my own glass ceiling and am now wallowing in that cement like mud of mid-level entrepreneurship. Which can be a lifelong stasis, unless I do something about it now. Like maloba.
(that’s my new phrase, like maloba, because there’s no word in English for maloba).

The only nice thing about the place that I’m at, is that I no longer question my own self worth, am not shy about my ambitions, talking money no longer embarrasses me, and the voices of my past, that made me apologise for wanting to be who I want to be have been drowned out, by the sheer potential of my greatness – yes, I’m aware that I just crossed the line into Kanye West proportions of self adulation.

But it’s not a warped sense of being, I see my faults just as clearly as I see my strengths. I’m just saying… that’s all.

If you want to stand beside me, don’t fear who I am, the fucked-upness and greatness. It’s all me, love it all, or leave it all. UNCONDITIONAL RECIPROCATION. OK that’s a tall order, but something close and I’ll do my best to give you the same. Promise.

Now back to the career, my next move is so crucial, I feel like that band that people keep referring to as “slept on”. Dismissed passed over, ignored. I’m going to make some noise, life is too short.

I thought forever was today
that I’d lost you
that you were lost to me
in fact you are

for a moment there
I reached the zenith of my mind
hit a brick wall
came crashing down

because I thought forever was a day
today

for a moment I bared my soul
then quickly covered up
came crashing down
that day

for a moment
you held my heart, so hard
I couldn’t breathe
Did you know?

I went dizzy from no air
went blind from the constriction
lost my balance
felt forever wouldn’t end

for a moment my regrets choked me

for a moment.

She speaks to me, just like Paulo Coelho said it would. Never has it been so acutely clear. The message being, DISCARD THE FEAR, REGRET NOTHING, LISTEN TO YOUR BEING, LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, LOVE!

about facebook that sometimes makes you feel like you’re snooping???

I’m made of reluctant stuff
that fears and yearns.
velcro-like in grasping for its kin
loud and dramatic in parting

I’m made of determined stuff
that cuts and bruises
rubberlike in bounce
but often thin as eggshells

beating heart
clicking joints
winking eyes
opened palms

mortal, simply mortal.