Ramblings about Pain on a Toilet Seat

Today I thought I would try something different… a different ‘creative’ environment if you must.

I’m in the toilet with my laptop on a stool (oh my, pun NOT intended) as I listen to Tinashe Makura’s ‘Love and Laughter’.
As comic as my position may seem; I’m not laughing. I have the worst case of food poisoning which sends me to the bathroom more often in an hour than I’d like to count.

 So, in light of the liquid condition of the contents of my guts (Euww that’s really crude Steph!)… I’ve made myself rather comfortable in the loo...

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Pain…at most it’s an indescribable gnawing nuisance. When my mum asks “ko chii ko nhai Hamu?” for the life of me I want to explain. To tell her I’m paralysed with pain. That I don’t want to move because sometimes I think the little bitch (pain and definitely NOT my mum) waits until there a sanctimonious nano-moment of relief and like a heartless ninja her dagger strikes again.
 I forget she’s been at this life game a whole lot longer than I have (My mum this time)... I forget that though I can only signal my feelings she not only feels it with me then…she’s felt it countless times before.
But it’s not easy is it?
To know that you are not the only victim of life…to know that  you have no excuse …that you can’t play the helpless damsel of distress because many have come before you felt this and even greater excruciations; overcome them and didn’t have the time to be arsed long enough to even to tell the tale. And I sit here on a toilet seat … thinking “hey it could be worse” and how comfortable it is in here.
 It’s a funny little thing this big thing named life. #TSKC

Rush

In this life.. I’ve gone through things…

Some grotesque some surreal …

Like an endless movie reel

Life is persistent

 Rolling credits even when they aren’t due.

 It’s just like me and you …

You brought out feelings I couldn’t subdue..

Feelings got sticky and messy like misused glue turned into goo

 Those are my legs turning into jelly

 Just brush past me one last …time

I promise my palms won’t get too sweaty

I’ll seize to be petty about how I am like putty in your hands

 About the ‘who’s- who’s’ and us… if it’s there

 Let ‘us’ rush

 Time waits for no man or woman so I feel even less empowered

Just rush

Let our emotions crash as we ride on that hot wave

Stirred deeper than lust…

We know each other

But we’re out of time …

That is why we must rush..

Do not tarry any longer

We must have each other ravenously…just rush..

Rush towards us

Rush for me.

#TSKC

Winter 'Ronelines'

Welcome one and all my fingers literally itch I’ve wanted to feel up on this keyboard like a horny drunkard would during the bars’ last call. Not because my options are as limited as the poor under sexed drunk dude BUT well because I have options and I’m not necessarily undersexed. (If my imaginary vibrator counts). Speaking of good vibrations those of which are on the African end of life are in the dreaded baby-making winter times. Don’t you just love winter? All those hunger pangs; the THIRSTS and overall sluggishness? The need to be cuddled and that cold unloved side of your bed for some and yet so many? The massive amounts of second and extra helpings of everything edible? Ah! winter is indeed upon us as the sassiest dressers pull on the most hideous legging and fuzzy boot combos known to men. I refer to ‘men’ because some of the boots look alive I kid you not, I may only be a hipster at heart but I get the need to protest every now and then when live foxes are publically used as footwear. These awful boots manage to lure the hunter within the most urban of men.

Winter highlights the greatest conspiracy against students of all time though, Winter Exams. Since Primary throughout High School I’ve thrown on the woollies and bared it, through varsity? Not so much.  How is any normal human being capable of normal bodily function (i.e. anyone who can feel their balls or nipples freeze) suppose to comprehend any form literature in this weather? I do declare Africa needs some timetable changes for real. I don’t care what you give me to read a Mill’s & Boons couldn’t preoccupy me for a full fifteen minutes without at least three Hagrid-sized mugs of coffee. So which real adult came up with the idea that bloody exams should be written in this blistering cold? Is it not torture enough that many a student’s bed remain lonely, no body warmth just a cheap hot-water bottle. (Pro: At least it won’t sleep with your best friend, well not intimately) as if misplaced exams and empty beds aren’t torture enough there’s all this greasy food around that seems to catch you and your appetite just in time (EVERYTIME)for a ‘small snack’. You’ll notice my ranting is in complete ‘anti-winter’ fashion. Speaking of the lumpy sweaters make for good camouflage right now but highlight my text, when temperatures will change o’ and it will be ten times ten at the scale by the end of winter oh!

Frozen StudentsJust what the Canibal Ordered

Namibian, Windhoek weather doesn’t help as indecisive as ever. I retract that it decidedly is dedicated towards fooling all into believing the bright sunlight brings warmth and that the icy breeze is non-existent! (Don’t believe the sunshine!) And what’s with those overly publicly affectionate knitted couples on campus, knitted in terms of out fits and the well maintained lip locked position,( bear in mind this is blatant ‘haterade’ so just roll with it) I often secretly wonder if frost could them hard and quick enough their tongues would get stuck together  quite similar to having a really cold ice block/popsicle sticking onto your tongue as a kid. (nobody remembers that? Am I the only victim of this?)But no chances of that I suppose (It’s cold in Namibia but not cold enough for my evil plots!).

I would carry on with my complaints but I feel the need to nurture and not scare (Piss Off!)the few readers I have right now, speaking of which please do share these written ramblings with your mates, I hear the power of the social network(definitely not the movie at the box office) has reached Greek God/dess levels so do spread the madness like Herpes!