THE POST OF ONE

This post of one, I write with everything in me. I write with truth, with my hopes, my dreams, who I am… I leave nothing out. Nothing. I feel at this moment, like an artiste about to perform on stage. About to play her instrument. With the weight of the world on my shoulders. With my nerves all raw and impulses racing. I will play this instrument with everything. I will dig deep. And if at the end of it, I come across to you as ugly, then it’s fine. Because at least, you will have an impression of me. One that was yours to make. Unspoiled by others. Unmarked by circumstances. The me you will see at the end of this, is the me that I am. The me that will also give you an insight into the kind of person that you are. It’s why I named it the post of one. One for totality. For uniformity. One for one real impression. One for absolutes. One for just one.

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You see… at the end of it all, personality will trump everything. Even experience. I see it all the time and I know I’m on to something. I mean, you can look the part, talk the talk… but if there is no fire from within to light it up then it is all useless. You are useless.
What’s the point of salt if it can’t give taste?
What’s the point of getting hammered by rain if you don’t get wet?
What’s the point of me sitting in corner and “ignoring” stuff when all I want to do is get up and speak (read:scream) out?
We deny it all the time. We make decisions and we leave this very important detail out. Take that one, he looks better. Take her, she fits the part. But what about their insides? Can we not see?

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Charles Bukowski was not a looker for most, but the things he wrote about made him soooo appealing. Beautiful, even. He will forever remain the most beautiful person to my mind. The man’s words have immortalized him!

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The imp from Game Of Thrones. Short and physically unappealing but goodness, if the people in my country had half the wit and smarts that he had, we wouldn’t be where we are today. Gawd, I love that man.

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Then Jamal from Empire. Needs the ginger of his mum to make his music yet still sticks to the cold indifference of his dad. But he needs Cookie. He needs. Who does not like cookies?!?

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It’s like we know what we need, and that what we need is usually not seen on the outside or may not be all round acceptable, yet we root for the outside and all round acceptable. All the time. It’s suicide that we commit every damn time. Are we not tired of dying over and over?
This year, I have learned a lot more about myself from my interactions with people. And hey, I am no golden queen. I guess a part of me wrote this because of a comment that a person made. Here goes:
* I am very competitive. If it’s something I want or care about, I will fight you to the end. I will own it, that thing that I want. If I’m not fighting, it’s because I don’t care.
* I’m not one to ignore. LOL!!! Nine times out of ten, I will always speak out. I’m like potatoes boiling at high speed. I can’t keep still. For myself, and mostly for others.
* I am not afraid of people, authority, whatever. I mean, I dare them, even. Because whatever happens, they cannot take away from me, the things that truly matter to me. Ultimately, I have nothing to lose. So I poke them. I prod. I am mischievous. I want them to react. I feed off real. So every real reaction… be it love, hate, anger… I appreciate it. Forage for it. Encourage it. Secretly, I look for the one who can match me.
*I don’t forget easily. Matter of fact, I never forget. My memory is such that once I have made the effort to commit a thing to it or once a thing has forced it’s way in there, it’s trapped. I’m trapped. I remember it all. I never forget.
* I look better naked than with clothes on. To be honest, when I’m in the right frame of mind, I invest more in my “nakedness” than in covering up. Besides, I hate doing laundry and what better way to avoid laundry than not wear clothes?
* I’m a scared romantic. I mean, I won’t just up and be all mushy at first. I need safety. I will put my feelers out and test for acceptance, not necessarily a sameness of feeling, but an assurance that mine won’t be rejected. You don’t gotta feel same. Just don’t reject me, eh?

Cats+y+u+no+answer+back+rude+cats+they_b779a3_3222666* I don’t believe that anyone is better than me. I believe that I’m something special. I believe also that I should be treated special. I don’t know. Maybe something in the water I drank as a baby. Does that make me an egomaniac? If I feel at any point in time that I’m being treated less than I deserve, regardless of whether I am not the only one being treated so, I will “shake body”. I am ME and they are THEM. At the same time, I don’t believe than I am better than anyone. There is room for every one in my world. And each room differs. It’s a thin line I walk here.
*If I had a husband and he married a second wife and we all had to live in the same house(very laughable), man oh man, that woman will freak. Yes, I have that “dark” in me. I could’ve been the bitchy cheerleader in high school. But I wasn’t, it wasn’t important to me, all that attention. Yes, I can be that girl when I choose. No, I’m not the jealous type. But never will I share what is intrinsically mine. You gotta be kidding me, right?
*I believe that if a man is not married, he is fair game. He has a girlfriend. Blah blah. So? How does that affect my life span? I could be the one. He could be missing out. I could be missing out. Does anyone ever think about that? It’s unless there is no connection. But if there is, and it is worth it, and he is not married, boom. It could also be part of the reason why my colleagues swear they’ll never introduce me to the men they really like. LOL!!! As though I would be interested in their specs.

I have my intense moments of light. Certain friends of mine will argue that the light is all there is to me. Ray of sunshine, they call me. They always want me to go out with them. I bring the element of spice and liberty, they say. I will do the crazy things and take the fall for them. But I have dark too. And I looooove my dark. It’s such a contrast to the rest. I love the twist. And then maybe my dark stems from my light. Like, you can’t feel my dark and label me “witch” and you can’t feel my light and call me “angel”. There is a rawness to everything. I’m not sugary sweet. Neither am I gall bladder bitter. As my friend, you can’t want to make a spontaneous move and come to me for “common sense”. Yeah right. Heck, I will support and do the deed with you. I will throw a shoe when I’m angry but I will bake like a motherf**ker when I’m happy. I’ve never sat on the fence on anything. I’m always on a side. Never in the middle. Never lukewarm. I am hot, or I am cold.

Do you hate me yet?
What, did I scare you much?

Am I ugly?

Boo to da flipping Yah.

Before I bow out of this post… lemme just say… that sometimes we have the wrong people believing in us. It does not matter that they believe. It is that either their belief is founded on the wrong things or that they are just wrong. Rubbing on us the wrong way and all. We do not have to fight for those types to stay. This can mess us up and alter our impression of us. We need to learn to drop people dead weights. I notice that most people carry way more than they need. But get this. All you need is one proper person.
One.
For the post of one.

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