A Letter To Mr Not-Right-Now

Hey there hot stuff,

This is the down-low: You have rocked my world, and you have a great butt. But this is not working for me. Not because we don't get along - we do. You've got a mind I could wander in for miles, and a soul so fathomless I could go deep-sea diving. But the plain truth is that I am not ready for someone as strange as you. It's me... not you. Except... it IS you!

I think the first clue of your eccentricity was the restraining order for me... and then the fact that every time I get your newest number, it's unreachable within a day. I mean if I didn't know better I would think you were avoiding me!!! But I have felt the connection... when I look into your eyes I know the intensity is so great that you can't help but look away. Sure it looks like a nervous twitch - as though you are frantically, furtively glancing around for the nearest exit. It's quite endearing and just makes you all the more sexy in my eyes. I'm a bit worried though at the attachment that you have formed to that shiny new letter opener of yours... and the other night the edge of the blade caught the light and it looked almost like a real knife! Baby, if you are scared of anyone, you need to tell me.

I guess this fear is what has made you change the locks to your place so many times... and I guess the feeling has been so overpowering and mind-numbing you forgot to tell me each time! Luckily in order not to trouble you I have managed to get the keys copied quietly every time. I know how stressed you are at work too - I mean every time I call the work number you gave me your secretary answers as Pizza Hut Home Delivery! It's great to have a laugh at work, but I am sure working with such jokers can get tiring.

But honey, any fool can tell you have issues. I'm just not ready for such complex problems. I mean I thought my last boyfriend was strange (he kept moving town without telling me, and he's either had a sex operation and turned into a woman, or has left the country - noone is telling me, and his old neighbours all seem to cower when they see me! It's baffling!), but you take the cake!

So I'll be seeing you... (and not just via satellite from the well hidden secret CCTV I had installed in your room)...

XOXO

Miss Totally-CRAZY-For-You

Ke Nako

SPOILER - I HAVE BEEN A LITTLE FOOTBALL CRAZY OF LATE... YOU WILL UNDERSTAND AS YOU READ ALONG.

Ke Nako... It's time

We came onto the playing field, you and I, almost expecting glory. Ready to battle, ready to overcome, ready to shine. We came with hearts full of exhilaration, anticipation, and excitement - knowing that there would be challenges, and yet certain - positive - that we would come out winners. Oh, there was the occasional shadow of possibly unsavoury outcomes, but they were quickly swept away in the thrill of the game and the joyful frissons that blossomed at every sweet victory.

We could not lose. We would not lose.

We lost.

Perhaps it was our strategy. Or could it have been that we were simply not ready? Worse still, is the possibility that this alliance we formed was not the ideal one. My mind is on constant replay - fast forwarding, and rewinding, and pausing over and over and over again, trying to pinpoint the moments of weakness, and the little failures, and then trying to determine how best to overcome and strengthen ourselves for the next attempt on the playing field. But what if the only solution is to build a different team for a different playing field?

Ke Nako - it's time to admit defeat, put down our waving flag, and find comfort in the fact that we came, we saw, we tried.

Farfatoolalo

So I tried something new recently, that didn't really work out. For the sake of future reference let's refer to it as 'Farfatoolalo'. These things happen - or as in this case, don't. We fall, we pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and move forward. Ideally, anyway.

Not me. I went on a whinge binge, and it just occurred to me how annoying I have been lately. A few weeks ago I was reasonably interesting in that I could have a conversation about a multitude of things other than the aforementioned Farfatoolalo. But lately every word I utter is about Farfatoolalo, and every conversation I have is directed towards Farfatoolalo! Well this Farfatoolalo talking has gone too far! I seem to have no personality other than whingeing ALL the time, and I have begun to sound annoying even to myself! So to other people I must have reached unbearable levels, because I usually find myself immensely entertaining, and I can no longer say this is true. Sigh.

So I am done with the Farfatoolalo. Eat my dust Farfatoolalo. You belong in the past and all I can see right now is a Futurefatoolalo. My whinge binge is officially at an end.

But how I miss the idea of Farfatoolalo!

My little poet

I have a bunch of littler siblings who are all very special (read strange and quirky and incredibly interesting) in their own right. But tonight, it is the littlest one who has drawn me out in baffled surprise. She's seventeen years my junior (a fact that is going to drive me insane in the near future as I embark on my looming mid-life crisis), and at eleven years, she is as smart as a whip. She's very attuned to people around her emotionally, and as the evidence below will imply, I worry that she might be a tad cynical... I'm a bit worried at some of the depth of emotion that has evolved from her words - emotion I, at a SLIGHTLY riper age, do not seem capable of. She's recently begun to write poetry, and am eager to know your thoughts on the same.

I hereby present to you the words of Khushboo Shah.

Goodbye

As I said my goodbyes
I felt like a firefly
As my flight would leave in ten minutes
I couldn't say goodbye to mum
Otherwise I would start sucking my thumb
I couldn't say goodbye to dad
Otherwise I might get mad, or sad
I couldn't say goodbye to my siblings
Because they helped me with everything
But now I want to say goodbye
I need to cry
No matter how much I want to cry
I cannot cry
But now I find myself crying

And now for the REALLY perturbing one:

Untitled

All my life I believed
In a dream of a tale
Where a prince meets a girl
And it ends happily
But now I see that it can't
And it won't
Because my happy ending
Has been written into
A fated tragedy

Even now I find
I can never forget
All the songs that you wrote
And I sang
And it echoes in my heart
Every note that I hear
In my mind
Drives me mad
And I find
That I'm falling and
Falling apart

I am just wishing that
I could break the chains that
Hold me back
So I could maybe
Return
To better days

Fork In The Road

There's a fork in the road, and I feel inept. Which route should I take? Neither one seems easy. Neither one is clearly defined. There's smoke, and debris, and the signs are confusing. I have travelled so many roads, and yet I have never felt so inexperienced, so at a loss. I'm tempted to toss a coin, and let luck decide. And yet deep down I know which path I really want to take. And which one I should.

It's a fork in the road - this battle between what is sensible and safe, and what is emotional and unknown.

There's a fork in the road, and I have never changed my mind so many times. Never before have I weighed the pros and cons, and deliberated over the signs and possibilities of what might be... of what could be... of what probably WILL be...

There's a fork in the road, and no real need for a quick decision. But the urgency is bubbling within me... slowly simmering to a boiling point. The need to react is overpowering. But I'm not quite ready to choose.

Under his spell...

Anyone who knows me, or has read even ONE of my blog entries knows that I'm a little... strange. So my next confession will hopefully not surprise anyone too much (I hope).

It's no secret that I am at that age when dating, or the idea of dating, or the view that I should be dating (or in some schools of thought, married and with child) is supposed to be at the forefront of everyone's minds. I know it sounds like an exaggeration when I say 'everyone', but when people you met five minutes back begin tsking at my singular status (can I say that?), it seems like the universe and all divinity, and sceptics of the above are very intent on finding me a man even if I will not do it myself - especially since I am not doing it myself. I'm no longer affronted at how everyone and his (or her) mother's nose is in my dating business. REALLY. Well, on most days anyway.

So for those on the prowl on my behalf, I guess there is something you really need to know. And no, it's not that I'm secretly a nun, or into women - that I know of... What I'm about to reveal is a trait I find absolutely necessary in a man. So much so that even if the most gorgeous Adonis with the brains of Einstein and the wit of Russell Peters and the wealth of Bill Gates were to be a contender as my better half (hey while I'm dreaming might as well aim high), and yet NOT possess this particular trait, it would be a deal breaker. And I am very serious about this. Seriously serious.

Look, I'm no paragon of anything really. But I love the written word (in English - my linguistic skills are minimal), and a man who respects it is a real turn on. I can just see the confusion in your face (quit scrunching up your forehead, you'll wrinkle easier). Let me expound: Good grammar makes me go weak at the knees. Impeccable spelling will bring out the stars in my eyes. I know, I know, there isn't a type of therapy that has been invented yet that would work on me. But this is the honest truth. My man has to be able to spell, and construct good sentences.

Phew. There! I got it out!

In this world of highly abbreviated, speedy text messaging and instant messaging and all the ways in which we try to save precious time, I appreciate the special few who take the time to spell words whole and write sentences fully. To me, this trend of abbreviating everything is sacrilege.

So, please... if you're on the manhunt for me, get me someone who can spell - and I might just be putty in his arms!

Magic

Lightning lit the plain like paparazzi eager for a glimpse of the latest hot starlet. The view was breathtaking, beautiful, a centrefold for nature magazines. Soon after thunder rumbled throatily of promises - of rain, of romance, of mystery, of small somethings blossoming here and there. The stars were in attendance, twinkling charmingly; glinting with harmless mischief. The scene was drenched in magic and possibility.

A child woman perched herself on the jagged rocks overlooking the plain. Her raised arms, bathed in moonlight, spoke to the skies. They spoke of hope and love, and desires she dared not utter aloud. They told tales of yearnings and secrets. Her fingers stretched out to the stars - strong and assured that dreams do come true. Tonight anything seemed possible.

The embers from her little fire glowed like a frozen tequila sunrise. They scoffed cynically at her belief... But they agreed silently to let her have tonight.

Take A Good Look At Me Now

Take a good look at me now. I come to you tonight stripped of any inhibition and any pretense. I am the best version of myself, and all of me - within, and without - is here for YOUR perusal. I see the possibility of greatness between you and me, and I don't want to begin anything with muddy waters. Let's begin with you, and just you; and me - JUST me. No games, no lies, no bullshit.

I'm here baby, not for any guarantees. I know there are none. I come here not to hold you to any obligation - that's not what I want at all. I'm no baby, baby. I outgrew my naivete a long time ago. I'm no damsel in distress searching for a white knight... I am capable of executing my own rescues, thank you very much. Know this. Honour this. I come simply to explore the mystery that's brewing. And I know it's there. I don't know where it will lead. Neither do you.

Take a good look at me now, baby. This is all of me on display for all of you. It's an exclusive exhibition, so enjoy the honour. No strings my dear, you don't have to like what you see. Neither do I.

Steel

I looked in the mirror this morning, and glimpsed something there that is new. Beneath the obvious facade, there have been changes. Remarkable ones. If I did not have the familiar mask that is my face, I would not be able to recognise myself. Where there was once a skeleton of bone, there is now steel. The strength from within shimmers through. There's an extra sparkle in my eyes, an extra glow on my cheeks. My gait is no longer hesitant but firm, and sure.

The days when I felt helpless and lonely are not that long ago. But the me that was, has been dropped as quickly as last season's favourite fad. I know what I can take now, and I fear nothing. I know what I can handle, and I will not balk. I know what I can survive, and I know I will do it with grace. I know who I can rely on - I look at her every morning in the mirror.

I am woman, hear me roar.
You give me shit, I use it as manure.

On Edge

Tonight I'm a drone of dichotomies. Exhilarated and anxious. Hopeful and despondent. Needing oxygen, but unable to breathe. There's a feeling of being so small, so inconsequential, and of knowing something big is about to come. Something great. Something important. And there is so much fear because I may never be the same again.

Every song sung so far, has been sung for me. Every chord of music, is a plucking of my heartstrings. I am every cliche brought to life, and every metaphor simplified. I am panic and adrenaline and desire and yearning. I am my own hero, and yet all I can do is send out SOS signals. I'm the silver screen brought to life, and reality made into a movie. I am confused and clear, and exploding with so much feeling. My lungs are full - there is no room for another breath.

Breathe little one... Breathe!

I feel the best of myself merging with the worst of myself. I feel complete, and yet lacking in so many ways. I have lost my breath, my confidence, maybe even what little sanity I possess. I must remember to breathe!

I'm on the edge. Blue skies above beckon; the ground far below teems with jagged rocks. The terrain is stark and stunning. Birds chirp and predators prowl, and here I am teetering at the very edge. Breathe! I do not know yet where the next moment is going to take me. Will I fall, or will I fly? Knowing means going to the edge.

I'm here... at the edge. And I just can't breathe! The moment has arrived, and I need, I must, I will fly.