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My Watchman, Boss, Bank Manager, long lost relative

If you know me well enough you know I suck at phone handling. If you thought I have been ignoring you, well here is the truth, I am horrible at phone handling. I mean, I miss calls like it’s a job, I forget to respond to texts especially those on quick chat. Let me clarify, it’s not that I don’t value the texts people send me but it’s a scenario where I often respond to messages in my head but never quite do. I am better with email because half the emails that come through 1. Pay my bills or 2. Tickle my ribs (I just rhymed). I feel like I need to do some further explaining so I am not taken out of context but then again, if you really know me well, I am sure you have understood me and if you love me enough you won’t mind this bad behavior. I am working on it.

Image

I miss the olden days (Not that I really lived in them) when phone calls were purely for important communication. Like when only one person in the neighborhood had a phone and when a call came for you it was a death announcement, a job interview response or a lottery win. You get me?

So anyway, even in my bad phone handling skills, there are phone calls that for some reason I don’t miss and should I miss I will cause a one man stampede trying to return the call. Usually at this time my phone has hang and I am talking it back into functioning or I am slamming it on my palms.

Today it hit me most.

So I am at this meeting. The discussion is heated and I am ignoring my buzzing gadget. Partly because the people who were calling were either debt collecting, following up on a sale or ‘checking up’. (Not purely true) but so when this one phone call came, I literally left my audience mid sentence to attend to this call in a haste.

No, it was not my boyfriend, nor my pastor, nor my mother. It was my watchman or gateman for decency sake.

I kid you not, my heart skipped, my palms became sweaty and there was a ‘teren teren’ sound in my head.

See, there are four people I have noticed whose phone calls get me in this state.

One my gateman. Why? Because the last time a neighbor missed his call, his house was being swiped clean by his ex who told the gateman she and my neighbor were moving and he was too busy at work. Also, the last time I had no power for about 3 weeks my gateman didn’t have my number so couldn’t warn me. (Getting reconnected by the way is harder than brushing a cats teeth) Today by the way he was calling to tell me the power people were at my house and I needed to pay my bill ASAP not to be disconnected. He saved me and my fridge leftovers. Thanks Frank.

The second phone call I never miss is …needless to say.. my boss. Why? Because my boss calls me for two reasons, hell has broken loose or he has a super cool life time opportunity assignment. I work in one of those jobs where things move from perfect to Jesus we need you and your 12 disciples this minute. I think about it like I work for the state (I actually do), he is 999 and I am the fire dept. so any time 999 calls me, there is a fire to put out. He could also be calling to tell me that I need to suit up and go meet the president on his behalf as he is caught up (This has occurred plenty of times in my dreams and I am just terrified it will happen and I am caught off guard)

The third call I don’t miss is any call from my bank. They could be calling to tell me my money has disappeared or perhaps they want to award me for being lucky phone picker with a crazy amount to buy me the Volkswagen I so badly want.

The fourth person is any long lost relative. Half the time, they are calling to tell you the worst news, a parent’s death or very close relative’s death or better yet inviting you for their wedding abroad. Though for some they are calling to invite you for wedding committees as well. But I try not missing them for reason 1.

I wouldn’t also miss my pastors call, he has never called me but should he ever I would have a moment where the world would freeze. I would pick just for the curiosity. Like what on earth could I have done or not done for the pastor to call me?

I try not to miss loved ones phonecalls. I really do. But thing is they know how to signal me for emergencies. E.g my mother will call me 8 times in a row then have my siblings, cousins and childhood friends call me. My sister will call me. Write me a text. Pick up, then follow it up with ?? then do a Swahili version, chukua simu then write.. Sawa tu.. So then see, when I miss your one missed call I am somewhat hopeful its not really an emergency.

As I said earlier. I am working on my phone handling skills. I promise.

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ALCOBLOW SUCKS…

Haibo!!! This done cracked me up. The last almost made me piss on myself. Great story telling

Dear Doris

Dear Doris,

Just shut up and listen…

It is Tuesday… The following takes place between Friday 2am and Monday 4pm…

I was driving home a tad tipsy Friday morning at about 2am following every detail I taught you on my letter, HOW TO DRIVE HOME DRUNK. I was driving in the middle of the road and all…

When I got to Madaraka roundabout, I was stopped by cops…

Now you see we had talked about this earlier in the club… If you see cops… Reverse… ESCAPE! This is a tad difficult with 10 cars or so behind you! So I stop..

“Kijana toka toka toka… Leo ni leo… Toka…” A cop sermons me out of the car… You see, I was not drunk… But I was far from sober! I am guided to the bonnet of a cop land rover where a second cop handed me something I was supposed…

View original post 1,670 more words

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Dear Mr.Anyang’ Ngong’o

In primary school, teachers often asked and still ask to date what you want to be when you grow up. It is normally a highly dreamy answer with things like astronauts featuring highly, no one will judge you regardless of the absurd career you mention at that age.

In secondary school you are expected to me a lot more serious with the answer to’ what do you want to be when you grow up’.

 In high school, dare you say you want to be a musician or actor? The teacher will either kick you out of class for joking or your parents will be told how unfocused you are during parent teacher day (Most useless forum ever). I digress.

 For a long time the arts has been a side hustle. It would be unheard of for you to tell your folks you want to be an actor or a musician. Heck, your dad will even say they’ll stop paying your fees.

For a long time, I know actors and musicians have often been asked ‘What’s your real/other job?’  

But now, it is about to change.

 I feel like a revolution and transition is happening and this post is just to appreciate the Nyo’ngo’s for taking front row in this journey.

 Lupita Nyo’ngo, I am beyond happy for you, somewhat feels like you are living the dream for many of us.

You are gorgeous and you have done well to demystify many myths surrounding many things. Let me break them down:

  • You have created a sense of believability in African talent generally. You have made it clear to the bigger entertainment industry that indeed there is fine, well spoken, and cultured talent in Africa
  • You have added brains to the ‘slim and dark skin figure’. For a long time ladies with your physique have graced runways but they have been the brainless nice bodies clothes are hanged on (I don’t mean to be rude)  You have thus given many African ladies in the west a chance to venture in busineses/careers in the west without the stereotype of being uneducated, tribal speaking people.
  • You have made it acceptable for many of us long hair hating girls to walk around without feeling judged by our folks and friends. This particularly relates to me. The other day, someone asked me if I am rocking a Lupita haircut. I was offended yet honored. I have had short hair for now close to 7 years, I have had all sorts of haircuts and just recently trimmed my ends a little to leave me with a patch of hair at the top somewhat like what Lupita is rocking (Maybe I am exaggerating this part). Anyway, it would normally be a viewed as a ‘weird, rebellious, economical’ and ‘boyish’ cut but now it is a red carpet, flamboyant, gorgeous cut.   Short hair has for long in Kenya been viewed as the hair for the ‘poor’ or ‘older women wanting to be young’. Poor I mean, people trying to cut down on salon costs.

Asante.

 Now allow me to capture the attention of your dad.

 Mr. Anyang Ny’ongo, I pray you go down in history as the one man who has officially had immense impact on the arts industry in Kenya.

 Let me explain:

  • Fathers here, many times, have the leading roles in the careers of their kids and in Kenya it is almost an insult to tell your folks you’d like to pursue the arts. But now, this educated, strong, renowned politician has taken the risk for all parents and proven that it possible to have a child pursue arts and have a great life. Maybe not in Hollywood but overall it is now seen as a rightful career path
  • You have restored hope in many parents that it is ok for your child to pursue and unorthodox career path without ending up in drugs, poor or in jail. It is now ok for young people to say things like, I want to be a producer, script writer, photographer, actor etc.  
  • For the parents sending their kids to the west, there is much more that can come off your child if you support them than cleaning loo’s and flipping burgers.
  • You have opened doors to local content to be believable
  • You have made acting an accepted career for many people in the film industry. I am sure banks are now open to funding film makers and the likes. On a lighter note, actors will now be less about their ‘real job’.

Asante baba!

 I will end by saying this, we live in a society that things only become acceptable once someone takes a dive and crosses borders. Short hair, dark skin, acting talent were all things that were handled with a 6 ft pole but now it suddenly cool. My barber has a picture of Lupita as he says many ladies want the ‘Lupita cut’ . Ladies, who before, I bet, have probably been struggling with a bob cut or a Beyonce kind of weave.

 Anywho, I am excited about the arts industry in Kenya. I think it is headed for greater. I hope film makers will take a bigger interest in creating better content and really nurturing talent. We have the talent we just need the skills to use this  talent in the best way (How cliché do I sound) but think about it, talent manager are now hawking over our industry trying to see if they’ll discover the next Lupita.

 I’m out.

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Tribute to Komla Dumor. An A man- African, Aspirational, Amazing .

I have been blogging for about 5 years now.

I have had this particular blog for 3 of those years.

In these 3 years, I have taken a break, gone on a writing roll, contemplated deleting the blog, started other anonymous blogs. It has been a journey.

One day, I stumbled upon a TED talk by Chimamada Adichie and as I listened to her I began thinking, why do I write? and I’m I living up to my writing goals.

I began writing for entertainment. Hmm. I read through a couple of past posts and I am nowhere close to funny, I once was but not anymore.

So I came up with another reason, I write to vent. This again was made clear how big of a lie it was, I haven’t been totally naked on this blog, I haven’t vented as such, I have just shared opinions and lied to myself I was venting.

Finally it struck me, I just write so the world can hear my side of story.  (I believe my mind has a very special and different way of seeing things, heck, my life has the most unique and unusual experiences) and truth  be told my stories would be African.

A few days later I came across a speech/talk by Komla Dumor *Heavy lump in throat, Rest In Peace*

His words made me stop writing, in fact, made me contemplate halting this blog.

His talk was about ‘Telling the African Story’  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DfJn8HCKO8g

He made me think how my tales of my daily ‘African’ tales were being interpreted and the impact they had to myself and those around me.

I had been sharing funny stories but hopeless, ‘nothing good can come out of Africa’ kind of stories.

I stopped writing because I wanted to rethink my way of telling these stories. Yes, I still wanted to be honest but I want to inspire, believe and encourage. No, I don’t want to write to y’all inspirational books and quotes I want to be able to see beyond circumstances.

Yes, I was writing about increased taxation but can’t I think beyond that and come up with ‘how to cushion against increased VAT’?

Can’t I be the one person who says local productions suck but still go on to create a reacted version of an international film just to gauge our talent based on other world scripts or stories.

Yes, I was venting when I spoke of my dads Cancer sickness and how mad I was at God but couldn’t I also increase the word count and share the story of how we pulled through, tell people of doctors who helped us etc.

I,above everything want to share the limitless options provided by the plenty of circumstances we are in.

Komla to me represented a mind of character, a mind of optimism, a limitless mind. Limitless minds to me are those that cant be contained in any form of constraints. Those people who make opportunities even in roads marked ‘no way through’.

So when I heard of his passing, I was deeply sad. Sad because he was my bridge to finding my writing voice. He was the engineer who reworked the plans for my writing.

Sad because I often referenced his journalistic style to gather direction towards finding my writing self.

Komla was a mentor, inspiration, eye candy and definitely a star.

Rest in Paradise Komla. I never got to tell you this but thank you.

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These are my things, these are my fundamendoos!

The title… Eeeerm.. I really didn’t have a title for this post.

*Exhales deeply* 2 years is a freaking long time. So I have discovered this week.

I have genuinely taken time for granted for all my life.

2 years has transitioned me from being cool to being old-school, in fact to using the phrase ‘back in my day’.

I have always felt young; at work, at home and amongst my friends but this last week I got a kick in my tummy that send me to the old people corner.

So, I resumed school this week. Monday, I walk in class punctually, I know no one, the class looks vibrant.

Teacher walks in before I get to identify who will be a friend by the end of the semester, who I will do revision with and who I will never dare speak to. (Story for another day)

15 mins into the lecture, I am bored, duh! I have the attention span of a toddler. I take a look around class and *Gasp* I am almost throwing my books away.

There is a lady on my right with the Samsung zoom phone, she is recording the class as she takes notes on a tiny Mickey mouse notepad.

There is someone else recording the session on an I-pad.  When the teacher asks us to reference the textbook, I kid you not, almost everyone has the book on a tablet of sort.

There I am with a 4kg book trying to look focused.

I keep staring around and it hits me why class looks so vibrant. It is because it feels like I am in one of the viewing rooms in a New York Fashion Week showroom.

The lady right in front of me has some of the finest strands of Brazilian hair; she has well done stiletto nails with some glitter. I spot a Hermes Birkin in the class. *Hides my faux Celine bag* Hold on, before I move away, is she chatting on her watch?  Oh…the gear thingy.

As class continues, I keep zoning out of the lecture to stare and take in the difference.

Just 2 years and life is so different.

I have been away from school for 2 years. 2 years ago, the coolest kids in class (Mostly Nigerians) had blackberries. They def couldn’t record notes because of the weak battery life and anyway teachers were very hostile to gadget use in class.

Coolness was evaluated by life after class not in class. We were descent and student-y. Meaning we mostly wore affordable, semi trendy clothes our parents got from normal department stores. There was diversity in style so you could get away with crocs, baggy pants and even a  bandana on the head.  There is still diversity, yes, but it’s still mainstream.

Half of us had rack sacks or at best college sling bags. Not a bloody Hermes Birkin.

I had the lousiest of everything. I had a very lewd sense of fashion, I carried a conference bag to school (A hand me down), My phone was so cool because it was a flip phone (I was working then, so I could somewhat afford it)

Now what have I learned, I need to be a lot more involved in how I look etc. 2 years may mean 2 birthday parties but it could also mean a kick in the tummy to a corner.

Now allow me to shop a little lest I find myself in the over 50’s group discussion.

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Lesson 1 – How to perform Miracles.

This last year has been more than amazing for me. I have grown in amazing ways

I have grown spiritually, physically, emotionally and professionally too. I must say I am in a very amazing place, a place I can call happy and peaceful. A place I can only hope to stay in or even expand further. I have achieved so much tangibly and intangibly too. Yes, I may not have acquired some things I planned to last year but the replacements of the same stuff has been amazing.

I will share a few lessons. This post is about the Spiritual Growth

Connecting with God or for lack of a better word a God is everything. I think having someone to depend on is the one single thing that gives us strength and direction to achieve and wade through this life. I am Christian, and this year I have learned the very naked side of God, before, I felt like God was clothed in so much stuff that he seemed like this autobot from a movie or something. Before I simply failed to understand God in his very simple state and thus failed in realizing his will or purpose in my life. I even failed to fully experience his love and power.

I learned, God listens, God honors sincerity, God honors giving, God honors simplicity.

However, at times we know not how to ask Him, we talk to God behind this masks, we fail to acknowledge who we really are to Him and I think that’s all God requires.

If you ask me, He wants a murderer that acknowledges he is to converse with him not a murderer presenting Himself as saint. (Do I make sense) and In my sincerity, God really gave me direction, he caused miracles to happen like literal miracles.  I mean praying to God with a hangy isnt so ideal ay, but then again, I was just like ‘ Lord, my hangy and I really appreciate for taking care of me last on the road and in the hang….’. Not that this is right, don’t get me twisted but it is my human element and I learned even as I work on my human element I need to converse with Him. I often feel like Christians hold off and decide they shall approach God when they are Holy, well I broke this rule.

I’ll tell y’all a story you know how we all have landlords who are sent from hell.

So this one time, I was strapped on cash, mainly beacause I got into an unplanned financial predicament. I was dead worried, like super worried, my main worry was being thrown out. I couldn’t ask my folks mainly because I was worried I would have to explain my situation which would become a longer story than I desired. I had sworn it would be my last option. So I am watching a movie at home and at one time, the mother to this daughter is lecturing her (they had just been thrown out after their dad died )  and she says ‘ The Bible says He shall supply all your needs according to His riches, don’t you then know how to ask or is it you don’t trust God enough’. She then said, The God refered to in the Bible is he different from the one who exists now, he is no president that the one reffered to left and we have a meaner one that we pray to now. He is the same and if He did it then He will do it now.

This words then were a powerful script, they didnt make much reference up until it was a day to rent deadline and I was still short of cash so in all my humility I spoke to God and asked him for a miracle.

Next day, deadline day, I am busy trying to figure a lie to calm my landlord instead he calls me and asks me if all is well, he says, I have been a good tenant and he understands things happen sometimes, he asks me if I have rent.

Pause*

I explain myself and he says I send to him what I have and we shall sort the rest when I get some cash. He even calls to say he shall sort the power bill too I shall sort him out later.

Now, I now what y’all thinking. Lies! or maybe you’re  thinking I am drunk or I am psycho. I thought so too, in fact any time I think of this situation I think to myself, how wacko I sound.

The jam Gods’ got it by J Moss since then became my anthem.

I was as shocked but all i’ll say is, God listens.

My career has really made strides I never thought it would by now, I had made some career wishes just as wishes, I mean those like I want to be CEO by x age, I want to earn X amount by 2014. I thought of them as consolation wishes but guess what, God wasn’t joking, he done make some come true and I am grateful.

Finally, give and be grateful. I think (May be wrong) God as our Father does reward grateful kids. See, thank God for having half the rent even when it feels unreal, I think he does feel warmed to top you up he he.

Ask, Trust, Listen, Give, Thank. In that order.

This is my popeye spinach effect playlist;

James Fortune (Complete identity album)

J Moss- Gods Got it

Tye Tribett- What can I do

Tye Tribett- Same God right now

Tye Tribett- Nothing

Kierra Sheard- Indescribable

Deitrick Haddon- He’s Able

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Material girls’ Birthday wishlist

Every year around this time, Birthday time, I write two blog posts.

One is pretty much my material wishlist and the other is my ideal wishlist for my life in the next year.

For today. I shall indulge in my material wishlist,  I must say I am blessed to have friends and ‘admirers’ sometimes who have been kind to honor some of my wishes. Grateful. 

The wishlist is pretty much a compilation of things I want but wont/ cant seem to bring myself to purchase for one reason or the other. Or even for the basic reason that my needs or limitations for that matter get in the way.

Here goes 2013 wishlist.

  • Flats (Animal print, Red flats, Black sharp pointed flats)
  • Perfume (Hugo boss deep red, Coco mademoiselle or Gucci Rush 2)
  • Pant suit (s)
  • Toyota Cami  (I am super ambitious)
  • Braces (Not beauty braces but  teeth correctional braces)
  • Platform wedges (This is a first but yes)
  • Gym subscription (I cant seem to bring myself to do it I may as well get it as a gift)
  • Macbook
  • 3 seater black sofa OR
  • 4 seater square dining table 

I think I am done 🙂

Point to note, my list this year is very girly, it has things like shoes and perfumes, normally I would have bikes, cars and gadgets on the list, lets just say growing up and growing old are happening or maybe I am trying to impress someone with how lady like I am

See you on delivery day

5

What men do women want……

A chat with an old lady who has been married for 70 years made me see why women will remain single or heartbroken for a very long time.

Her message was simple, Love the idiot you have, the perfection you want might not even exist. Here is a small a synopsis of the conversation.

Her; Are you dating?

Me; No

Her; why? Let me guess there are no good men?

Me; There are but I haven’t found any

Her; don’t console yourself. There are no good men anymore, they reduce by the day. For as long as your sisters’ (women) continue to treat good men like dogs and idiots, good men will continue evolving to selfish, mean and cold beings.

I got thinking….

She reminded me that as long as women treat good men in their lives like slaves then bad men will be born daily.

Here are some deep thoughts:

Ladies,

You have a man who is at least;

  • There for you
  • Cares for you (Takes you out or pays your bills or is concerned with where you are)
  • Introduces you as his girlfriend
  • Tells you, you are beautiful
  • Calls you, makes you smile or blush
  • Tolerates your bad monthly days
  • Holds your hand
  • Doesn’t hit you
  • Kisses you passionately
  • Cares for your parents or children

Then stop treating him like a project. Stop being a female dog and treating him like beastly stray dog.

If you have a good man

  • Don’t compete to be the man, you are a woman, be one.
  • You don’t have to be always right, sometimes let him win
  • It is not always your way, sometimes he wants to do things for him, let him do them
  • You don’t have to always prove he is wrong and drag on a fault, sometimes let it go
  • If he is sorry at times you don’t have to remind him how far he fell or how deeply he hurt you
  • Sometimes there is nothing is deeper from his explanation. Don’t be paranoid, it will kill you
  • If he is trying to make amends stop moving away and making it harder than climbing Mt. Everest
  • If he is giving you one thing in entirety and half of the other, stop focusing on the half and focus on the full
  • If he makes you mad, don’t talk to him like a child, make him understand, if you have to raise your voice don’t! Write it on paper
  • If he takes you out and makes you feel good (Pays your bill, introduces you as his girlfriend, gives you attention) then do not make his time out hell by bringing drama, it can wait till you are home
  • It’s ok to be mad, just don’t be stupid mad
  • It’s ok to be hurt but it doesn’t mean revenge.
  • The sting of an onion wasn’t cured by pouring salt into the eye or was it?

Finally, when you have had it,

  • Walk away

Until he puts his hand on you or threatens you, do not show the devil in you by treating the man like a mobile phone continually trying to make his life hell by blowing mistakes into world stopping wars.

All I am saying is ladies with good men, they don’t come easy, you aren’t entitled to a good man, give him a break, treat him right, love on him, forgive him

Life doesn’t always let you have something you don’t deserve for too long. He could easily be whisked off and you will walk on bitter saying how bad a man he was. While he was just a good man forced to being a bad one.

Who says the next one you get will be half as good.

And if you break up, where is the single lot of us supposed to get good men, if those who leave you have the worst perception of women?

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God just said no……

God just said no

He said no, he won’t let me fall,

And so he lifted me and embraced me so tight I almost couldn’t breath

He held my hand so tight I couldn’t fall off the edge I had been pushed

Suddenly, things got better at work, they were kinder, nicer… because he said I won’t fall.

God just said no,

He said no, he won’t let me get into a bad marriage

And so, he let lies of him cheating get to me, just so I would leave

God just said no,

He said no, he won’t let me be poor,

And so he made me people notice my hairstyles

And then I was styling for money

God just said no,

He said no, he won’t let me grow fatter

And so, he didn’t let me buy a car

God just said no,

He said no, he won’t let me live ungrateful and selfish

And so, he didn’t let me get a pay rise

In fact he let me get more responsibility

So I would learn to save and tithe

God just said no,

He said no, he won’t let me be the arrogant woman I was growing to

And so, he didn’t let me get through the auditions phase of the TV show

God just said no,

He said no, he won’t let me die in self-pity, self-hate and low self esteem

And so he made my skin glow, glow so much I didn’t even know the product I was using, yet y’all were asking

He just made it beautiful I forgot I was fat

God just said no,

He won’t let me live carelessly and irresponsibly

And so, he took away my parents

He left me to manage the empire they had built

God just said no,

He said he won’t let me die in pain and loneliness

And so, he gave me an imaginative mind

He gave me a writing gift

So when I felt lonely and hurt I would write it away

God just said no, he won’t let you give up

And so, he gave me this poem

He gave me this chance

To tell you, he says no so he can come out strong

God will say no, just to save you.

Its not that bad after all now, is it?

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The realization

And then one day you realize, everything you have worked so hard to build and maintain meant nothing, it was all a perception, nothing real.

And then you realize those you have invested time in caring for didn’t notice an effort

And then you realize you should have spent time caring for you, building you

And then you begin to realize you were a place holder

Holding space for what they were looking for

You were never it to begin with

And then you realize the nice words said were to keep you from going

you aren’t all that was said after all

And then you realize what you expected to happen

………. *tears*

Then you spend time, bitter, angry

Bitter because you would have spent time building you

You would have spent time making the next five years the best of your life

Then you realize

You realize, if you let the anger take over you will lose

Lose so bad you will go miles back, way back before scratch happened

And then you begin trying to turn the bitter into winner

You begin to find ways to make the words that sounded true actually true

You begin trying to be better than the replacement

You begin working towards begin the ideal picture

Never to be a place holder again

But then I am in denial

And so I try find strength in words of my creator

And so I begin thinking of running away ,I want to start all over again

So I begin digging for routes to take me far away

I want to cancel out the feeling of being used

I want to reject the creeping feeling of never having been really good

I want to cancel it out with the picture of being the best, irreplaceable even

As soon as I get my balance

In a new place maybe

In a new state of mind maybe

I will come back here and tell you of my triumph story……