I want you to

I’ve reached a point where I have to write a blog post. I haven’t needed to for a while. I haven’t, for 2 years. But now this is the only way I can justify talking about things. This is the only way I can talk. Being heard, which is another issue entirely, is down to air.

Connecting with others has always been hard. It almost always leads to disappointment. It’s partly because I always want more. I want you to try to put yourself in my shoes, as much I try to put myself in yours. I want you to remember as many things about me as I remember about you. I want you to speak the truth, and not to pretend. Unfortunately I can’t always get what I want from you. Even though I don’t think I’m asking for much.

Because we’re all somewhat unique, I know it’s very difficult to  understand exactly how others feel. I don’t expect you to understand. I don’t expect you to understand the emptiness. Neither do I expect you to understand the constant self-loathing and fear. However, I expect you to be conscious of them. Being conscious of them is part of knowing me. I wish you would see beyond the surface and the half-truths it sometimes represents.

I’m willing to reciprocate if you do these things, if you treat me this way. However, because I can’t get what I want, I’ve chosen to bury it. I’ve also learnt to adjust my expectations. But my faith in others has dwindled. And I know that as I grow older, it’ll get harder to make any connections. I might start to withdraw more and more, as it becomes easier to bury it. Or maybe I won’t. Maybe I will feel the need to write more blog posts. Maybe this will be the only genuine outlet I have left.

Perhaps none of this will matter. Either way, it’s left to time, and air.


This sunny afternoon…

The weather is bright and lovely today.

My room is something like a mess.

A book I bought online just arrived.

I’m sitting here wondering how I’m going to make sense of grad school and coming up with a plan. Apparently I’m not very good at planning. It may be because my simple mind can’t cope with all that is being thrown at it. Every time I think I have a plan, more variables are thrown in, more entropy and it ruins some or most of what I have by way of a plan.

Since I got here, I’ve really just been taking things as they come. My mind tries to figure out what’s urgent and what’s not, then I just pick something I think is urgent and run with that until I’m done with it or until I realise I can’t finish it and then I put it on hold. Maybe this is the wrong way to go about things, and maybe I should have some timetable and some discipline in order to stick with it when it’s practical to do so. Maybe I should have a to-do list, and refer to it and tick off it every now and then.

But I’ve never been able to do that before. I bought an academic diary, and the instance I left the store I knew it was a waste. I wrote in it once, a list of things I had to do, stuff I had to revise. Since I wrote in it, I haven’t gone back to it again. I don’t know when I will. I wrote in it so I don’t feel like I wasted the money but that guilt has died.

So here I am, a bit confused and scared. I will wait for my coffee to be cooler, then I will drink it and I will pick what I think is most urgent amongst the things I have to do. I hope that somehow it all works out for the better.

If you got this far, thanks for reading.

The Warden

Most days I have to cross a busy roundabout. Crossing this road would be particularly difficult if not for a traffic controller that regulates the area. I’m used to seeing him and I think that sometimes seeing him actually makes me feel better. I think it has something to do with stability and seeing something constant and how good it is for minds. I might have made that up but I think it’s true. The reassurance of the consistent has a positive effect on the mind. Seems i’m thinking a lot of things.

This traffic warden usually wears a calm and confident smile on his face. I guess it’s the smile of someone that’s in control and knows it. It just occurred to me today that I admire and even envy that. I wish i could be like that.  Sit at work all day, smiling as I’m hacking away. Confident with not that much pressure. I wish i could smile more often. I also wish more people could smile at me too.

It’s also cool how he’s helping so many people cross daily. It seems like such a small thing to do but it goes a long way for me to be able to cross the street safely every morning on my way to work. It’s his job, but I’m glad he does it okay.

Oh, and #noHomo

N.B.: Not that it matters, but I didn’t proofread this.

Finding You…

I don’t like what has happened to you. You used to be so different. You used to be so kind to me, kind to everyone. You used to spread joy and happiness all around you and you used to inspire me greatly to be the best that I can be. I loved all that about you. So what happened to you?

You were supposed to be better. You were supposed to improve upon what you have started. You were supposed to be a better friend to me. You were supposed to touch more lives and hearts and you were supposed to be one heck of a person. But something changed you. Something sinister made you so cold and wicked and it makes me sad every time. I see it in your social network feeds, I see it in you now. You are not a shadow of your former self, you are even worse.

I genuinely want to help you. I want to help you find yourself again. I want to help you go back to how things were before, because things were better then. I want you to love me again, because I miss my old friend. I miss how you used to comfort me. I hate the people and the society that brainwashed you and made you believe you have to be like this to survive. The world is cruel enough as it is and I just can’t stand to lose another lovely soul. I want you to find you, and I want to help you.

Please let me help you. Please help me touch your heart, so you can touch mine. Please be my friend again, I really need someone to talk to, someone to confide in that won’t let me down and will always have my back no matter what. I need you now, please love me again.




There was a time when you were very young, where your mind was evolving. In that period, you saw yourself evolve and develop new opinions that could change rapidly. One might say that you were in the process of finding yourself,  discovering who you are. The objective is to be at peace with this discovery, and to build on it to further advance to a next level, a conceptual better version of yourself.

Now try to remember this period. Do you remember finding yourself? Do you remember building and conceptually re-inventing yourself? Or did you lose yourself? Did you become an icy robot like the rest of them?

Chances are you did. Chances are that somewhere in between you lost yourself and though you may not have noticed,  you gave up on finding your true self and improving upon what you find. It may have happened due to a number of reasons. It’s common for society to have derailed you, or your friends. Somewhere along the line the things you believed in didn’t correlate with the general societal views. So you lost yourself. You traded who you are for who they wanted you to be. We all experience this in  different ways and in different levels. We all lose ourselves somehow. At least that’s what I think.

So now that you realise that there’s a possibility that you have lost yourself and you might be living a partial lie, what’s the way forward? Do we have to go forward or we just maintain the possible lie we have built? Maybe it’s time to reflect on how far you’ve come and the changes you underwent on your journey. Because one might argue that it is when you find yourself, that you become whole.

Are we?

Have you ever lost your faith in humanity? How many times? Have you ever sat down to ponder over the things humans do and how vile it all is? And how humanity might never change? How we will continue to be vile and disdainful, merciless, cruel people who desecrate the surface of the earth and wallow in our haughtiness and greed.

Have you ever wondered why we are this way? Why we are so flawed. Have you been so deep in your loss of faith that you just can’t bring yourself to talk to anyone again, to trust anyone. Like no one is capable of being trusted. No one deserves to be trusted. That we are all just alone, pretending as if we have each other’s back when in truth we don’t. We are just selfish and we care only about ourselves. It’s all about ourselves.

Have you ever felt real hatred? I don’t mean the kind of hatred you feel for a boss that’s difficult, or a particular kind of food. I mean the type of hatred that stems from the evil that we see today that is so rampant and consuming, that it swallows us all and spits out devils disguised in human bodies. The hatred for everything, one might call it misanthropy. It might actually be more than that. But what does it all mean?

When does the soul- searching begin? When do we really begin to ask ourselves why we act the way we do? When do we shed away all the arrogance in our hearts and accept our flaws and our people? When do we learn to truly love ourselves and be citizens of humanity? When do we stop being selfish and greedy robots living a rat race? When? Will I change? Will this end? Will you love me?


The sooner we realise, the better.

“Poignantly Evocative”

This post is an experiment.


My day was rather bland. I was quiet for most of it like I have been quiet for most of time in the days that have come before today. It’s hard for me to explain, yet it’s somewhat easy. It’s easy to put into words, yet it is difficult to evoke the kind of meaning that I might intend for it.

I made a stupid decision. At least that is what it seems like. The stupid decisions and outcomes are the ones I remember. The ones  that evoked feelings of self-loathe, anger, angst, and resentment. Somehow they are much easier to remember that the things that arouse the exact opposite, happy memories. They are for me at least. As little as they are in comparison to what some other people have to go through, they are the ones that are preponderant in the vacuum that can be described as my mind.

I can’t really go into delineating the bad decision that I made as I feel that may be counter-productive. In fact, what I am more concerned with these days is why I react to them the way I do. It’s reasonably common knowledge that we all make mistakes and errors in judgement that are part of our “growing pains”. Once in a while we throw sensibility away or we have the occasional “brain fart”, no matter how careful we try to be. We all know this and we have learnt to live with it.

If this is the case, then why can I not get over how much I have screwed up? Have I screwed up that bad? What determines how bad I have screwed up? What also determines how much I should dwell on my screw up? How much of my grief is healthy and to what length should I go to assuage the poignant feelings? The answers to most of these questions are probably tucked somewhere in the recesses of my mind but it’s conceivable that I have gotten comfortable with my grief to a point where I am not as eager to find these answers as I should.

Perhaps a theory is that somberness is hiding something. This is something I can work with. What could the somberness be hiding? My best bet is fear. Sadness is easier to cope with than fear. I could be afraid of the far-reaching consequences of my stupid decision. Or what the gloomy future entails. But how do I prove this theory?

In the end, we are all same; robots.

Pleasure is our pain

First, I would like to apologise in advance. I apologise if after reading this post it comes off as nothing but specious crap. I also apologise if the logic behind the message of this post seems flawed to you and therefore can’t hold water. I apologise if it’s just sensational stuff that appeals to people’s minds but in reality is unintelligent. I don’t actually think the things I write appeal to anybody. I however feel the need to be precautious. When you think about it, the paradox that is the title of this post might mean something to someone who by the off chance thinks like me. Or someone else. So here goes…

We humans are quite helpless. This isn’t a novel scientific discovery. Our lives are a series of events we simply can’t control, from our births to our eventual demise. We can’t control the fact that we get dirty, or that we fall ill, or some other misfortune that befalls us. We also don’t know when we’ll die. We just live life, going through every day trying to do things that are meaningful to us and hoping that fulfillment comes at the end. We try to outdo each other in different facets, this makes life kinda like a vanity fest. But I like to think that most of us are over that. This information is engraved somewhere in our minds. Most times we just suppress it so we don’t go through our lives depressed.

In trying to bring some meaning to our lives, we make A LOT of mistakes. We simply weren’t born perfect. We slip and fall a lot of times; some of us get through it while some others do not. The thing is, in many of the mistakes and bad decisions we make, we know damn well what we are getting ourselves into. Many errors in judgement are deliberate errors. A lot of people mess up their lives abusing drugs, fornicating, cheating on spouses, taking too much alcohol, and a host of other depraved or degenerative stuff. We do it because of how it makes us feel. These things bring PLEASURE to us. We all know these things could very well end up biting us in the ass, and causing great trouble and PAIN later on. But we believe we can’t get through life without indulging in something and judgemental people just don’t get that. It’s almost like most people can’t help it. Maybe we are right though. Maybe we can’t.

Let me provide further explanation. How many times have you decided to do something, with that inkling at the back of your mind that what you are getting yourself into could get you into trouble and hurt you? How many times did you somehow just shrug that inkling off, ignore it and go ahead, believing that you would find a way to handle it one way or the other? How many times does an alcoholic or a smoker go teetotal and embraces sobriety, only to go back to it in the end, knowing fully well that what he or she is doing would eventually harm him or her? A lot  is the answer, I think. I go through these things too, we all do. We are slaves to the pleasure. we do its bidding. It brings us pain but we don’t care, We’ll do whatever it asks of us….at least some of it. But It has always been this way. It will always be this way. It is our want for pleasure that eventually brings us pain. Pleasure is our pain.

So what am I saying in essence? I’m not sure I’m saying anything. I’m not sure I’m in the position to offer any advice. All I can say is the pleasure is what makes us weak. Fighting the pleasure makes us stronger. Fighting the pleasure and our want for it is the essence of life. It is by doing this that we truly lead successful lives. Nobody wins every battle, but some people come out of it all with an outcome that is favourable. Sometimes, people win the war. But my point is this, the pleasure is our pain.