Are you dreaming of falling in love? Don’t.
Maybe I’ll say just fall in love a lil’ bit. Just a lil’ bit, yeah…
‘Ve been walking around town. Freedom of the eye reigns you know. Downtown has wonders. Downtown may not be as interesting and mysterious as Ghetto but it has its own unique stories. It has its own wonders. Abnormal wonders. Downtown belongs (or rather belonged) to the styled in society. To people with swag… I don’t think I ever longed going there when I was still green. Green? Mama advised me that it was not the best thing, She told me it is an avaricious animal. A black one to be exact. And I believed her. You believed/believe yours didn’t you? Or did that ‘Mama’s-got-the-best-swag-in-town’ end with my generation? I don’t know…
Shame on me if you misquote me on this one. Or if you decide to make me a ‘discuss-able’ topic for your wall post. You may decide to make me the subject of those kinds of aimless discussions on Facebook that will always begin with, ‘I wonder…’ or ‘I am sick of…’ or ‘Why is…’. Yeah. Me thinks it is there that Facebook just fails in the game of social media. Those wall posts are as damn predictable as they are sick! #ImJustSaying…
But maybe love will save you from your agony. Maybe. Maybe love will swallow up your insecurities. Maybe it will become your salvation from that bug of low self-esteem. It may just boost you a lil’ bit. Yeah. Maybe. It is drama. Finding it involves drama. It just never seems to be found. Quote me on this one too… grrrrrrr! You may decide to walk downtown advertising yourself as marketable; the smoke of love coming out of your nostrils and the brightness in your eyes failing your intentions. You may decide to seek for some TLC. Internet has some TLC too! And internet is just part of Downtown, if you didn’t know. Maybe you picked on it. I don’t know. It has too many pot holes though… Just be ready for them. Some are so big that they are fatal…!
Scenario #1: Bag in one hand, phone in the other. Supras on your heels, smarted up in your pocks… Gladiators or stilettos down under, styled-up on your head. Picks in the bag, show in the mind. Drama like karma stealing up your ambers. Light in the eye, dots on the cheek. Binge in your heart, starvation down the soul-line. Marked for any extremes you are. Love tastes like pork. Some love it. Some hate it. Both two extremes. Love is drama. Love isn’t your mama. Love does not know how to take care of stupid people. It only knows how to take care of the wise. Love is not blind. If you are seeking to fall in love blindly, that ain’t it! That is voodoo! You may be Haitian… You may need the services of a psychiatrist…
So you are out in your dream world. Raging thoughts. Tweaks of holding smart phone in one hand, gum in the cheek, planning nothing, waiting to be planned for. Plainness well described. Plan-dumb. Strummed. Strumming too. Music in headphones. Gaaa-gaaa. Stolen but still free. Free in an enslavement portfolio.
You won’t find love. Not in that place. Not from those match-making sites. You are endearing ghosts. You are crying foul for yourself. You are chasing ghosts. Don’t think of love right there… Don’t….
Scenario #2: Good looking. Plain good. Humble. Standardised. Principled. But love’s missing. Mmmmmh. Very lonely. Needs TLC too. But in uncompromised hollas… Good point. Holds phone. Wants to call someone. Feels sweaty. Can see it on the palm. Says no. Scrolls down the phone book. Not to get a number but to thief thoughts away. Calls friend instead. Long-forgotten friend. Friend wonders. But feels good about the call. Ditch. Dark pit. Yaaak, why is this one sooo happy and I need someone’s shoulder who will get into my shoes and cry with me? Grrrrr! Kills a bug with a dooosh. Bug ain’t dying. Something running mad deep within. *Asks self*: Am I desperate? Someone out there feeling how I feel?... Falls on bed. Masturbation lacks behind. A shadow of sinfulness. Bad idea. Decides to get out. Closes door. Says bye friend next room: *I’ll be back in a few…* Coldness increases. Meets trees dancing happily in the wind. Feels agitated. Why can’t a tree feel me? Hug me, even? *My answer*: ‘It ain’t human. Pets won’t help either.’ Lacking love is painful, huh? It is like a fire consuming within. A fire we can’t see. A fire that keeps on recurring… Won’t find it their either. Love is slippery. It can’t just be found when you are so much dreaming of it. Can’t be found even when you scream it out… Blank page too…
Why? Why can’t love meet you? Why can’t it even greet you and just pass by? Why can’t it be found, huh? We think of it too much. We seek for it in the wrong places. @Mavuno.org says we have not decided to nurture it within so that we may give it forth. Why do we expect people to meet us and love us in their most perfect forms while we ain’t good enough for them? Excuses. We give excuses. We give excuses as to why men/women are bad. Mmmmmh. That sounds reasonable. But we too are me and women ain’t we? Love plays around us all the time I guess, but we keep on looking for it elsewhere. It dances in us, but we don’t want to recognise or appreciate it. We don’t want to dance with it. We don’t want to nurture it in the right way… So we always fail to get it… It slips away… And it may never be found if we keep screaming in this furore…
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