There are two kinds of people in this world. Those who are a shoe that people can tell whether or not it fits without trying it on and those who are a shoe that people have to actually try on to know whether or not it fits.
It’s okay to be either. Just remember that if they know whether or not the shoe fits without trying it on, makes you a CLICHÉ.
Clichés are good because they are predictable hence easier to deal with; Familiar and not scary. They are something people are used to. Expectations are always met.
If you’re a WEIRDO, good luck. You gonna need it in this world. People don’t like strange. Unfamiliar is scary and most of all unpredictable. If they can’t predict, then they don’t know what to expect as the word itself states. This translates to unmet Expectations and people don’t like that. They always want their fantasies satisfied. Its the way of the world.
So chose which shoe you want to be if you can. If you can’t like some of us, well, you gonna need way more luck than those who chose to be Weirdos.
Being a writer means letting your mind stray off to places most people wouldn’t and when you get there, pray you don’t lose yourself there; and if you do lose yourself, make friends with the Demons you find there because you gonna need them to guide you through the darkness.
For its this darkness that fuels your imagination and the tales born from it. 🤷🏾♂️
He was lying in bed underneath a blue bed sheet.. A tube attached to a tank ran across his nose. He was clad in a blue “johnny coat”. She sat by his bedside; stethoscope around her neck, clad in powder blue scrubs underneath a doctor’s white coat. She rested her chin on her right arm while holding his hand, gently massage his right palm.
She looked him straight in the eyes and asked.
“Why didn’t you talk to me back then?”
“You didn’t talk to me either. So I can ask the same of you. ” He replied in a fairly laboured hoarse voice.
“That’s not… I asked first. So answer me first.”
“How could I speak to you when you always freaked out and ran away from me everytime you bumped into me.”
“I wasn’t scared of you.”
“Then why did you always get away from me?”
“I didn’t know what to say to you.”
“You could have said hi.”
“I wanted to say more than a hi.”
“What more did you want to say doc?”
“You were having a blast with all those other girls and your stupid overwhelming confidence; and that silly presence of yours that fills the room or whatever space you walk into. There I was trying to be the centre of your world. Yet when I saw you I felt so small. Confident men don’t make room for small people. Especially small girls.”
“I was actually going through a heartbreak, you know. A hello from a fine babe would have gone a long way to boost my ego.” He said mockingly.
“You deserved it.” She said
“What?!”
“It’s your fault for choosing those other girls. If you had chosen me, you wouldn’t be heartbroken.”
“I thought doctors are supposed to be sympathetic.”
“First of all, I’m a surgeon and secondly, we are sympathetic only to patients and very mean to men we love.”
“So you love me?”
“That’s not what I said?”
“You’re being mean to me.”
“I’m teasing.”
He chuckled.
“I Love You too”
She was caught off guard by his professing of his love for her. She raised her head and looked away from him. She fixated her eyes on the oxygen tank.
“You shouldn’t have said that.” She said unnerved.
“You said it first, Shahid.”
“You’re my patient Pepulani. I…”
“Clearly we’re passed that, Shahid.”
She got up and headed towards the door. When she reached the doorway, his words stopped her in her tracks.
“I’m sorry I…”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you said it. I just didn’t want to… hear you say it out loud.”
“Why not?”
“Because once you say it, it ruins the magic of it.”
She looked me in the eye with a loving smile. A facade to be honest. Because her insecurities sipped through it. So I asked…,
“How many insecurities did you have before your Ho-Phase?” “Before all the bad boys who brought heaven to you…,” “…cracked you open and pumped you full of insecurities despite your fine body and smile?”
She smile through the pain before she gave me a look that said…,
“You’re worse that the wolves in wolf coats that I let rip me open and flooded my soul with all this hurt…”
So I replied with a look that said..,
“…Hurt you thought you would best because you thought you were smarter than those who played this game before you.”
She took her bag of pain and stormed out. So I said…
I will write you a letter I will use a flower petal for paper It’s thorn for pen The flower’s nectar will inspire the words of my heart’s desires for you.
I sit silent Looking out Wondering Is this big foggy world worth the trouble? Do I need to Keep fighting? Are dreams worth realising? Perhaps they should just stay dreams Fairy tales for the restlessness mind Wishing for a better tomorrow
Then it hits me If I don’t choose my legacy Then a legacy will choose me And that…. , I shall not do I’m the hunter. Not the hunted. So up, I stand And on, I march. Till a Legacy is built.
MASILI 