The Couple That Makes Everyone Uncomfortable

Chris and Logan

So…

There’s this couple on Season 27 of The Amazing Race that seems to rub everyone else the wrong way because of how much they argue. These people just aren’t “nice” to each other at all. At. All.

They are Chris and Logan. It doesn’t help that they are also The Paparazzi Couple so people don’t like what they do for a living and have to pretend not to hear their yelling fests. If you want to have a chance at winning a race, making it easy for people to leave your company may not be such a great strategy.

First up, there’s something about the way Logan talks that reminds me of an old friend of mine. They are nothing alike really (and far as I know, my friend is pleasant in her relationships) but there’s an underlying vibe there… and it really has nothing to do with my comparison so I’m hopping off this train now.

Anywho, the main problem for this couple is they generally can’t communicate to each other. Not effectively. They seem like pretty nice people on their own and I can even imagine them having quite pleasant down times together but throw in stress and they implode (with special effects). 

Now, I’m not a relationship expert but I couldn’t help watching them to try and figure out why they were the way they are because like I said, they don’t seem like nasty people.

From what I gather, things start to go downhill when Chris tries to do things and they end up ‘wrong’. Logan then loses her mind over it and he joins in the self-bashing tirade. That’s a pretty dangerous mix of actions because one person can’t always be wrong. Chris isn’t a saint but when things blow up, that generally seemed to be the normal chain of events and whether there was a valid “wrong” initiating action or not is up for debate but for them: He messes up, she gets frustrated with him and he gets frustrated with himself and they yell at each other.

I’ve been in close proximity to one of these yelling type of relationships and I hated being around it. Hated. Then I found myself spiralling into the same pattern and had to take a step back. In my case, that meant Singles Ville but I don’t believe that needs to be the case for this couple. Should they get help, absolutely. With a professional. There’s a root here with both of them that makes their deficiencies compatible but they can move from that to positive compatibility. Or they can just stick to the same cycle coz it’s a fit they know.

If you’ve ever been part of That Couple (or currently are) what makes all the drama worth the non-dramatic times?

O&O

The Bear and I – A Sort of Nursery Rhyme

My emotions are doing things... {don't know the source of this adorable oddity}
My emotions are doing things… {don’t know the source of this adorable oddity}

So…

I have a lil nephew and have been thinking of what nursery rhymes I’d like to share with him when he is old enough to understand them. Right now he only communicates by shoving things in his mouth which is adorable when said thing may not kill him.

There’s this horrid poem I did and I’m going to teach it to him in about a few months. I’m certain his parents will hate it but it will be our thing *evil grin*

Disclaimer: I am terrible at rhymes and rhyming in general. I have no future in rap, hip hop or anything in that area.

One day I may write nursery rhymes but this is just a practise.

Here goes…

 

The Bear and I

“There once was a bear who lived in my shoe

He had nine lives and three spots blue

They hid in his armpit and cried ‘I hate you!’

 

I never gave the bear a name

But he stayed in my shoe all the same

And I cant figure out on who to lay the blame

 

The spot’s cries to both the bear and I

Made me wince and weep from my left eye

I’ll strangle and maim them or die with my last try”

 

On the horrid scale, does it make your eyes bleed?

O&O

A Poem!

 ...

Pitch

She stuck a pin in the anchor of her dreams

It made a ping and on a flight of fancy

She tucked it beneath her skin and tweed

It rolled and twisted, sunk deeper and died silent

 

She held a hand out to the Prince on the pier

He sniffed the air in her direction

Looked away and blew a kiss she’d never hear

The wind giggled too loudly so she tied it beneath her chin

 

The sun refused to blind her

When she stuck her face in it’s bowels

There was no room for her whims

On the back of the Devil’s right palm

 

On an oar she hung her wishes

Wrapped in dried tears and smoked in walrus bone

There’s no room under a roof for a pocket with no coin

The moon wrapped her in a blanket of light and a kiss that sounded like home

 

She’ll never wake in the morning, noon or dawn thereafter

The aftertaste of the moon’s kiss tastes of the hereafter

The girl dared to dream but leaped from a cliff too high

There’s no one to catch her and so tonight,

 

She’ll die.

 

*************************************************************************************************

So…

I have no idea what that is about or even where it came from but it teaced itself out so there you have it.

O&O

Final Correction – A Poem

 ...

So…

I have no idea where this poem is from, I was editing some older work and thought… well… I could share it… Sometimes my mind regurgitates some pretty morbid things.

Enjoy!

O&O.

*******************************************************************************

Final Correction

I will not speak of things I do not know.
I shall not hide what needs to be shown
I’ve blazed a trail, I alone must follow

You’ve been by my side, of that I am glad
You can accompany me no more
Your time in my life has run its course

Sadness has no place here
Sorrow even less
My love my dear,
Let me have my final embrace

Still your mind, my heart races
Today it ends, what began too long ago
I’ll kiss your cheek, wont allow you to kiss mine

Hold my memories, that’s all I am leaving
Tomorrow you shall awake and alone will you be
I heed the voices in my head and troubled no longer will you be

My blade reflects the serenity of tonight
Company it has been but our last conversation we will have
My love you tried, you kept me sane but my memories come when you aren’t there

I shed a tear that no one will ever see
My last bath I shall run, it is a small treat for me
My toes feel the warmth that my heart longed for
I should be calm, I knew this day would have to come

The water around my ankles reminds me
Of a time when the sun bared down on sandy shores
And my smile was enough to make you happy

Long have those days gone by and my bruised body
Cannot repent on behalf of the sins your hands commit
My love, my dear I cannot forgive one last correction

I sit in my final resting place
There is the serenity I have been seeking
I look up and gaze at your unsmiling face

Did I wake you? I know I shouldn’t have
Cant bare this weight anymore.
Come keep me company

We say no words, what needs to be spoken
Has already been said
I cant leave I need your help

Your hands hold mine, mine tremble no more
I know what must happen. Shocked I am that it didn’t happen sooner
This is the most tender thing you have ever done to me

Right above the bruises you gave me last night
Lay a metallic silver kiss where your lips no longer wander
This is not as hard as when I told you about the child I am carrying

Neither of us do U want,
Neither of us will you have.
I gave you myself and only you can return it to me

The lights getting darker now,
Our baby kicks. When I meet him
I’ll tell him that daddy didn’t want him
But mummy couldn’t let him go

So together we shall be
Where your corrections no longer are
I shall hold the son
You gave to me

As your final goodbye

When You Are No Longer An Immigrant

Credit: Paramount Digital Entertainment and LXD Ventures
Credit: Paramount Digital Entertainment and LXD Ventures

A while ago I came across this video (Coming Out of Your Shell) and my heart did weird things in my chest (like it could do them anywhere else) because I GET IT! You should check it out. If only I had talent with the rest of my limbs and REAL co-ordination, I could create such beautiful visual things… *sigh*.

For a lot of my childhood, I was an immigrant in various places. And language has always been a “problem” for me. Apparently I used to speak Portuguese before “proper” school (lived in Mozambique at the time) but my mum would pinch me (or atleast I think that happened… but it may have been something I made up to make my loss of something so beautiful mean something) because she wanted me to speak English so I lost that right quick. I have an ear for languages but my tongue sits in my mouth like gum at the bottom of a shoe when I try and make it obey other linguistic rules. I cant even do slang properly. I am terrible at trying to sound “street”. Terrible… but I am running off the rails again. Lets get back to topic.

I have generally always had a good “command of English” and it made my mother proud but it didn’t really make me fit in (and what child trying to be normal, doesn’t want that.. or rather, that was the norm at the time, attempting to stand out didn’t really make you special). Among my own countrymen I couldn’t be a part of their private jokes and stories because I could not speak my own mother tongue or any other language from my home country (technically, English is my mother tongue because that’s what my mother used “on me” but “biologically”, my father is Tonga and my mother is Lala, both from Zambia) . My mother didn’t want my siblings and I to be “polluted” by the local languages we were bombarded with because that affected the sound of our English so we were a purely English household except when my parents wanted to share something between the two of them.

“Why didn’t you just teach yourself?” Might be a logical question and to that I would respond “Have you met other children?” They are brutal. Trying to speak a local language when you “look like it should be easy” but sound like a well meaning although ill mannered tourist is torturous and if you do not have the self esteem to ride through the bullying, you give up. Which is what happened to me, I gave up trying to learn my own languages and tried to ace “exotic” sexy languages like French and make sure no one else could “out-English” me, this was of course ridiculous.

I love the sounds of different languages and while I don’t have the same kind of negativity towards my parents languages, there is still too much residual failure in there for me to seek out teaching my tongue to move in that way at this point in my life. If its something my children want to learn in the future, I will not block them and will do everything I can to provide the tools necessary.

The problem with being an immigrant for so long is that even when you return home, it doesn’t quite settle on the bones in a way that truly fits. It may be comfortable but its not entirely “made to measure”. I know I found it easier being an immigrant when it was obvious that I didn’t belong than justifying why I didn’t belong because I looked just like everyone else.

I hope you find your own tongues and come out of your shells. You can only be the best version of you, you choose whether that best version is a watered down version of someone else’s expectations.

O&O

A Poem – Beside the Murky Stream (WIP)

So…

I have been gone a while, haven’t I?

Life has been keeping me more occupied than I care to admit and very little of it has been constructive but some things have been pretty damn good. I will go into the deets in a later post but for now here is a project I am working on.

It doesn’t feel “complete”. I am not sure why but I will be tweaking it in the future I imagine.

Enjoy!

O&O.

Along the Shore
Along the Shore

Beside the Murky Stream

Upon a stream of memories,
You road a float of hope.
I watched you sail away from me,
Without a backward glance.

You took a sliver of yesterday
Wrapped it in a cocoon of tomorrow
And nestled it into today
Tied in a bow I didn’t know

I kept on my sandy path,
Loyal to torture and solitude.
Under the shade of remorse,
I tried to sing but only sat.

You took a sliver of yesterday
Wrapped it in a cocoon of tomorrow
And nestled it into today
Tied in a bow of wispy string

You watched me from afar
As my fingers danced on sunlight
I didn’t feel your stare
And dug deeper into yesterday

You took a sliver of yesterday
Wrapped it in a cocoon of tomorrow
And nestled it into today
Tied in a bow I couldn’t see

The stream began to overflow
Carrying you back with it,
The sun blocked my view
But you rode it all the same to me

You took a sliver of yesterday
Wrapped it in a cocoon of tomorrow
And nestled it into today
Tied in a bow of forever

We took our time wiping the mud off
I’m sure there is still some left
And sitting under that tree of remorse
I finally noticed some fruit

God’s Girl – A Poem

 The story isn't at the beginning
The story isn’t at the beginning

God’s Girl

There was a girl God gave the world to
But she had no eyes to see that she had it
For while her hands held it all
Her heart held none and beat for even less.

He gave her a smile to light the darkest days
Hoping she could ignite her dying spirit
The body of a Goddess encased in satin mocha wrapping
That danced in the sun and swam through the fields.

 

She had it all I tell you, but she never knew.
Her smile never shone in her reflection,
Her body, she allowed others to desecrate
Never finding the solace she sought

The darkness crept in as she watched.
Her eyes saw what her heart told her was there.
Her few flaws that made her perfect
Became the definition she had of herself

But God had a plan for her you see
He saw that while her road was smooth
She would never stumble and look within instead of without
She would need to fall before she could rise.

He wondered whether he had given her enough strength,
It does no good to break a doll that had no chance at all
When he doubted whether her will was enough to survive the coming storm
He decided that a broken doll was better than a perfect one that never saw itself

He sent a monsoon of horrors that left her beaten and weathered
Her teeth fell out and she could only smile for herself
Her body was bruised and beaten and scars marked her life
Her figure no longer as firm as it once was, became the foundation to her renewed spirit

Life happened, and took away what she once was
Finally she saw that she was greater than no one would ever make her
She saw that she needed only herself to draw strength
She had fallen many times and had risen just once more

Her bruised, weathered skin told a story
A story of a young tree that grew, at first in the shade
Then endured the harshest sunlight
To emerge the strongest trunk that ever stood

I tell you, God’s girl knew how to fall
But more than that she knew how to rise
She learned that without falling to her knees
She’d never have known how to walk on her own feet

And it was her hard feet that taught her to fly.

Giving Birth to Natti – A Trio of Poems

 Yesterday's Breeze
Yesterday’s Breeze

I

Natti’s Waking

Natti had a secret she never could share
When the moon winked though her curtains
A snake would crawl into her bed

A snake with rough hands and skin wrapped in sweat
A long thick tongue danced with blunt teeth in a pit of spit
Into her skin the medley would go

They’d always mark their trail
But his lips would always insist
‘This is nothing but a game’

Above his snake hands, sat broad shoulders
For this snake was built as solidly as a wall
When the moon shone and liquor warmed his heart
He’d come in to play

His tongue wove tales of love and devotion
His eyes refused to see the abundance of her emotion
Her tears mingled with his for they often cried together

He must have shed his old skin
For he has come to share
And tonight, it’s a taste for something new

Into her sheets with pink frills and purple dolls
Taking space she has already made warm
He has come to take what she is not yet ready to give

His hand covers her belly
Makes her face that tongue flickering from his face
He has come to play
Tonight? It’ll be with toys

His skin against hers
He whispers words of his darkest desires
Confessions can be shared between slaves and their masters

She’s not ready, he’s tried to be patient
To quell his spirits from stirring in those dark, dank places
He’s lost the battle and fanned his unnatural obsession
The moon has refused to see tonight’s sin

Her screams to the heavens bring no angel’s mercy
He squeals from above her, as a troll before his gate
Heat never burned with a stronger flame
He’s lost control and bitten too hard

The snake crawled into Natti’s bed tonight
It did more than play like yesterday
Tonight it left its seed in a garden.
A garden much too young to grow.

II

Natti’s Mirror

She gazes at her reflection
Many nights from yesterday
She looks without seeing
At the woman she has come to be

Her eyes tell no stories
She closed those doors long before
But if the mirror could speak
This is what you’d hear

‘I’ve known her long and I know her true
Before snakes crawled and the moon spoke
Easing what should never be into what is
A snake’s egg had begun to hatch

Through me
Natti came to understand
When dealing with snakes
All you need, is to learn how to crawl

When angels refuse to save you
Sometimes, to save your soul
You have to kiss the devils hand

She had a choice and she made it with no guilt
She could have given in and died an inward death
Instead she learned to play and ease into her scales
For when one tastes venom, one must accept the bitterness

The snake had an empire and  Natti had the key
No longer did he creep to take what should not to be given
When the son kissed the earth, he taught her to be rich
But when the stars danced, she taught him how to love

She took her shackles
Made them worth their weight in gold
Shackles they remain
But gold is easier to live with than steel

Before me stands a woman
Strong, bold and true
Today she lays to rest her father

He taught her to be rich
She taught him how to love’

III

Natti’s Flight

One day, Natti met Van Whitt
He awoke her slumbering heart
When he blessed her with a kiss,
She felt he saved her from the truth

She would have given him all her riches
But he had plenty of his own
All he ever needed
Was for her to want no more

He gave her two bands
She gave him one in return
He gave her his name
She gave him a son to call his own

Natti Van Whitt dreamed of sinless tomorrows
While today’s passed, the sun danced even at dusk
Van Whitt’s world was complete and whole
But Natti had a secret, one she never could share

Natti began to feel a foreign yet familiar crawl
Within the walls of Utopia, Hades’ spawn had begun to grow
When you’re raised in a snake’s pit
Soon, your own skin will begin to shed

Natti had a hunger not even Van Whitt could fill
When Natti decided to play by snake rules
She ignored the darkest of the snake’s desires
Van Whitt unlocked her heart my dears

He had no way of knowing that within it, slumbering in yesterday
Were the seeds planted on a yesterday far away
He gave birth to her love
The love of what is born from what has always been

To live in her yesterdays, Natti traded in her soul
What she forgot, my dears
Is when you trade in your soul
Eventually, the Devil will collect.

*************************************************

So…

I am currently editing my work but I am at the phase of simply staring at what needs to be done, thinking of how terrible it all is, which is horrendous for the self esteem and leads to nothing being done.

To get me out of my funk, I am going through my gallery and I found this old gem from a writing exercise. It also needs an edit but I like it in its raw state so I am sharing it here today. Its a little miserable but… hopefully it isn’t terrible.

Over and Out!

Imaginary Tea – Own Your Perfection and Be Thankful

 I'm Going Far and Wide
I’m Not Sure What Path I’m Taking Here

 

So…

I’m working on a few short stories and that’s a first for me, I usually handle one project at a time because I thought it allowed me to “give it my best”, but that means I kill ideas because I don’t feel “ready” to flesh them out and that could be a cop out (most likely is). So right now, I am trying to tweak three stories for my first collection of short stories and I’m working on two half stories that involve running away and travel but they are so raw, I have no idea where they are going.

But I digress, today I am sharing two videos because last week I didn’t put up a post. And this week I am typing this while drinking a cup of green Japanese tea. My stash is almost done, nooooo!

First up: When Your Boyfriend Asks You to Strip For Him . Oh my word! Can I just say how much I ‘gasmed over this? I honestly don’t even know. I felt my stomach lurch and my heart flutter when she reached the end, and I swore at her… many times! How dare she make me feel all these damn emotions! Granted I re-watched it multiple times and shared it with everyone I know who would share my feelings. Why don’t we (women) love ourselves more? Why do we project our (imagined) faults onto our partners? I sadly find it very easy to depreciate myself in front of other people especially my physical appearance (not my mind, since I am posting its produce here, overinflated view of my mental abilities). My flesh and bone is “distinctly average” and sometimes I find it hard to believe someone would think I am the sexiest woman in the world because… “c’mon!” Like this morning, I was trying out some yoga and I noticed cellulite on a part of my thigh that I didn’t know it collected and cringed but was fascinated by the fact that it wouldn’t matter to “my person”. Granted I haven’t shown him that particular pose so he hasn’t seen that cellu-pocket (as I like to call it) but wouldn’t it be great if we could see ourselves the way the people who love us see us? That would be amazing. Allow yourself to do that. Somehow. Don’t become an arrogant git but own your “perfection”. Coz we all have a dose of it, so don’t binge but take a sip once in a while.

The Little Things is just a reminder to keep our eyes open to the good things that people around us do. Sadly I can often “miss” the nice things and to those nearest and dearest to me, I love you spades and boatloads. I am thankful for having you in my life and even when I can’t physically help you, know that I think of you, and your nuttiness drives me and my fiction. Whether I am escaping from it or drowning in it.

Thank you so much for getting to the end, I know this is very random… watch the videos. They’ll distract you from the lack of direction going on here.

Over and Out!

Behind Your Teeth – A Poem

I want to fly away on your wings
I want to fly away on your wings

Behind Your Teeth

I hid my secrets behind your teeth
“Your heart beat drives my own”
I hid my secrets behind your teeth
“Let me go and I’m bound to fall”

You’ll never hear me speak
Of dreams I’m prepared to lose
For if I never admit it, I can pretend
That who I was, is who I am still

I tucked my secrets behind your teeth
“Your heart beat drives my own”
I tucked my secrets behind your teeth
“Let me go and I’ll not know my way home”

My need to assert myself?
Its wilting in the blaze of you
If I’m a caterpillar, then you are my cocoon
But I don’t yet know if I’m a moth or butterfly

I buried my secrets behind your teeth
“Your heart beat drives my own”
I buried my secrets behind your teeth
“My legs can no longer carry my weight alone”

There’s a part of me I’ve lost
Its stained beneath your skin
If you give it back to me
I wont know how to make it fit

I planted my secrets behind your teeth
“Your heart beat drives my own”
I planted my secrets behind your teeth
“By your side is where I belong”

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

So…

Last night while convincing myself to fall asleep (its often a debate), replaying Miley’s new video Wrecking Ball, prickles of a poem began poking about in my head. People have “opinions” on the video, I LOVE the song and the “cleanness” of the video works for me. I am putting down my love. The song speaks if you allow yourself to listen.

Now, I haven’t written any fresh poetry in ages. I think my poems dried up when my sister died but I am not entirely sure because it was something we shared. I’d just been struggling to put my feelings down on paper while I dealt with the the relationship I had with her and the kind of relationship I wish we had had. There will be a post about her one of these days but for now, its just the poem. There’s nothing else I want to add because I’m feeling “prickly” and the longer I stare at it, the more likely it is that I wont hit the publish button (even though this poem is not about her, I am not a “mushy” person and this poem is bloody mushy. Dude, I hate you so much right now, you know who you are).

Thank you Miley, for helping me find some poetry again. I don’t know how or why it happened but thank you.

Over and Out!