The Lady and the Seer

PicMonkey Collage

A lady went to a seer to talk about the one she loved, whom she wasn’t with anymore. She said to the seer, “I miss him. I wonder if he misses me. I wonder if he’s coming back. I’m so depressed, I don’t know what to do with myself.”

The seer said “okay”, and looked away. Of course, that wasn’t a satisfactory response for the lady. 

She said “I miss him” and “I wonder if he’s coming back” again, hoping to get some sympathy, and maybe some insight into what the future held for her.

Then he replied, “I’m sure you do, I’m sure you wonder”.

“Well, do you have any advice for me?”, she said, after two minutes had passed, two heavy minutes that felt like 30.

“I don’t have any”, he said. “You choose to miss him, so allow yourself to miss him. Be true to yourself.” The he adds, “but ask yourself, how long are you going to do this for?”

She broke into tears, and he took a step back. 

“Who is in charge of you?” Who controls what happens up there?”, he asked, pointing to his head. 

“I do”, she replied.

“Who is in charge of your mind, your body, your self? Of course, missing him and letting yourself be miserable is what you’re choosing to do, what do you expect me to do, become you? Do you think I have any power over you? Do you think of yourself as a robot that has to be controlled by someone else to survive/function?”

She stopped crying and wiped her tears.

“If you want to choose to miss him, miss him. If you want to choose to be in denial, and wait for something that isn’t coming, wait. If you want to choose to move on and do something good with yourself, do it. It’s not my business or problem. You’re choosing to do something and asking me to help you stop. Ultimately, you get to choose whether or not you want to suffer, and if suffering is what you have chosen to do for this long, so be it. You’re a wonderful soul; don’t be so dense. Healing is a choice- choose it.”

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H-A-P-P-WHY?

YemayaI was about 9 when my family was visited by armed robbers. I am going to leave a lot of details out, which is unlike me, but some memories never completely fade. The day after was one of the unhappiest and scariest days of my life, naturally, I suppose. 

I didn’t want to go to school, but my parents wanted me and my siblings out of the house, not just because there was too much going on in the neighbourhood, but because only sickness and death could save you from not going to school in my home. Even if someone was fatally ill or they died the day before, as long as it wasn’t you, you were expected to be in school the next day, no compromise. 

I remember that I was matching back to my class that morning- the morning after the attack- singing “WE ARE H-A-P-P-Y” back to class, on top of my lungs.

“We are h-a-p-p-y,
we are h-a-p-p-y,
we know we are,
we are SURE we are [sure? wtf?],
we are h-a-p-p-y,
happy!”

I wasn’t singing it on top of my lungs because I was excited, I was, because I was extremely livid- angry about many things. I wasn’t happy, I didn’t know if the person in front of me or behind me, all of us in matching uniforms, tiny, little juveniles, were happy, but I had to sing it anyway, to avoid being picked on or flogged.

I’m going to leave the name of the school that I was attending at that time out. The whole system itself is messed up; it’s not about one school.

Why would you flog a child for wearing old socks, or pick on a child for not bringing food during the end-of-the-year party? You don’t know the condition that the child is living in, you don’t know the trauma that the child is going through, you don’t know anything. Flogging a child because their school fee has not been paid is even the most fucked-up of all.

Now that you have flogged me- 15 strokes, have I vomited the 15 000 naira for the term? Ehn? You have not only completely embarrassed and abused me, you have injured my self-esteem a little, or a lot. 

I’ll stop here. I cry “ugly”, and I don’t want to shed tears where I am. I just STILL feel sorry for many of the children that I met when I was their age, and the millions that I didn’t get to meet.

As far as education is concerned in Nigeria, many things have to be corrected. Many things. 

The Passover

He looked like every other angel of birth,
but he was an angel of death,
He looked like every other angel of berth,
but he was an angel of dearth.
He would make you moan in pleasure
so he could make you groan in pain.
I had been warned by his ex-prey,
and I was prepared to drive him insane.
I sprinkled the blood of his victims
on my door,
and in my eyes,
and in my ears,
and on my lips,
and on his head.
“You can’t kill me like you did them.
You have tried in vain, lame.”
He passed right over me,
and he never called me again.

His Venus is in Capricorn

“Making me hard won’t make my life less hard.
Thank you, but we shouldn’t do that, not now at least.
Put your clothes on; let’s go out.”

She was embarrassed but impressed.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Awkward

“I suck at sucking.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m really good at my job and my business. I’m a perfectionist.”

“Oh. I thought you meant you sucked at s…”

“Oh! I probably shouldn’t have used those words.”

*Awkward silence*

*Laughter*

Mrs

MrsI am experimenting a style of prose writing in which a character narrates the whole story to the reader in a personal way, like the reader is a spirit/ghost and the chosen character is the only one that can see them, like a secret best-friend of some sort. I am still working on it, not done yet. Enjoy!

We just spoke, for three hours straight. Tomorrow is ‘the day’, our wedding day, and to say that I am extremely nervous would be to say the least of the emotions that I feel right now. There are probably ten more that I cannot describe with words. See my palms; they are so sweaty.

My friends are having a good time in the room next to this one; I just don’t know if I need to let them know that I am freaking out. I need to use the bathroom so bad too.

Before I leave for the  bathroom, I just want you to know that I am very happy; don’t get me wrong, but just as worried as I am happy, worried that something might go wrong with this contract that I’m about to sign. I’ll tell you about the call I had with my man first, after my bathroom break, and tell you something I’ve never told anyone later.

I’m back. Sit with me on my bed.

About the call, I had never heard him say the words “I love you” so many times in three hours! He kept going on about how happy he was that we were finally getting married, and how lucky he was, and all that. I had never heard him talk so much, so I guess he is nervous too. In-between sentences, he would ask if I was listening, and I would say “yes”. Then he would tell me he loves me and I would reply that I love him even more. There were about ten “I love you”-“I love you even more” pauses before I told him I needed to sleep, and that he needed to sleep too.

There is a problem though. Well, I don’t know if it’s a problem or I’m just being petty. I had never really considered it an issue before now but I can’t get it out of my mind. He hit me a year ago with his belt, I’ll tell you why later, and I’m scared that he might do it again. I had never seen anyone that angry in real life.

He promised it would never repeat itself, I believed him, and since there were no permanent scars on my neck and arms, I didn’t tell anyone. Giving an account and telling someone else my business wasn’t at all necessary.

This is the thing- he has anger issues that I have refused to fully address, and I might be done for. Babe becomes a beast, a raging monster, whenever he’s angry. Oh! I should tell you something else before I forget. I went to an astrologer/psychic out of curiosity. I’m a Leo and he’s a Scorpio, if you would like to know. She said we have several Venus-Chiron-Mars-Pluto connections in our synastry analysis, and because those aspects are hard, we both need to learn to understand each other and we would be fine. He came up as The Emperor reversed/4 of Pentacles,and I came up as the Queen of Pentacles/Strength cards, in the readings.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said “yes”, but I love him. I don’t ever want to get a divorce; the thought of it is so frightening, because I hated it when my parents got a divorce. I don’t know; I don’t know what I’ll do if he ever hits me again.

Narcissus

narcissus.jpg

Richard Baxter – Narcissus and Echo (2000) – Detail

“I don’t love her
but I want to be loved by her.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?
You want her, right?”

“No, but I want her to want me.”

Dead Love

womanShe always had to ask if he loved her, and he often replied with a “yeah, yeah, love you, sure I do. Why do you keep asking?”

She was looking for the Àjọkẹ́, s’ó n gbọ́ mi? Mo nífẹ̀ẹ́ rẹ. The I am in love with you that was often said with a soft voice and a pleading gaze; it was what she was used to, what she had taken for granted. It was what she really wanted.

She hated herself for hurting a man who used to declare his love for her ever so often, sometimes with tears in his eyes, because he did so. 


There could be two different men in this piece, or just one man [the same man], depending on how you choose to interpret it.

Unrequitedly Requited

African-Woman-Konstantin-Yegorovich-Makovsky-Oil-Painting-1-800x1084

“African Woman” by Konstantin Yegorovich Makovsky [Oil Painting]

“I love you.”

My heart froze, but not out of fear. It was beating very quickly, and I could have sworn it was having continuous orgasms, if I had to describe the feeling. I wasn’t afraid anymore; I was nervously, intensely relieved.

He loved me.
He loved me.
He. loved. me.
Oh, God.

Then he continued, and right after he did, I wished that he hadn’t.

“I love you two, you and Leidy.”

Wait, one second! Did he say “I love you two” earlier or “I love you too”?

“You both mean so much to me and I’m lucky to have you as sisters from another mum.”

I immediately burst into laughter, and for some reason, he began to giggle too.

“You both are my babies.”

Well, he just didn’t know when to stop, did he? 

I began to laugh even louder. I laughed so much so that tears began to run down my face.
He was laughing because I was laughing; I was laughing because I thought I had just made a fool of myself, and I was deeply hurt. If he was laughing because I was laughing, he was laughing because I had made a fool of myself, because I was deeply hurt.

I so desperately wanted to sink into the ground and disappear or fly on the angel of death’s wings and never return. He loved me, that was good, but not the way I wanted to be loved.

The Dog Revolution

Contemplating_Beach_Dog-Anjuna_Beach-Goa-1070x629

Dave: Bruno! Bruno, come here. Who’s a good boy?

Bruno: I don’t know anymore, Dave.

What is good? What is evil?

Look at the ocean, the sun, the sky, the sea. They all look so gorgeous, so deep, so spiritual, but so meaningless. The universe is full of possibilities, so much to explore, so much to experience, so much to feel, but it all just has one doomed end- death. What then is the point to be good?

I am not a good boy anymore, Dave. Stop bothering me, shallow hooman.