there will days, unwelcome days,
when our dreams hobble along,
tagging us behind,
and we rush to keep pace,
panting,
wondering whether they are worth it
But what's the worth of a man
who carries with him unfulfilled dreams
the burden is too much
every breath screams LOSER
And we try each day not to be failures
sometimes we try even harder
not to fail by not trying at all
but then each day is a reminder
that we could be a day closer to our dreams
if we tried yesterday
Here's to that friend
who's watched all your follies,
rescued from the little graves
you've knowingly dug
here's to that friend who will
never abandon you
Here's to that true friend
who will share even
when it is evident they need
it more than you
even when they have barely enough
Here's to true friends
may your wells never run dry
may your prayers make us
better friends
may we be the friends you are to us
Here's to true friends
may your paths be paved
with unimaginable blessings
may your secret dreams
and your sacred desires come true
today and forever
Here's a toast to true friends
who see the shred of good left in us
yet our worth never wane
here's to friends who will not
abandon us
Here's to family - the only true friends
The backbiter often roams with a motive
He is an hunter trying to corner his kill
Sometimes he is recruiting sympathizers
To an implicit cause
The backbiter wants you to say something
Something that resonates with the sinister motives
Or implicate yourself
So that he can use it as a salvo
To fire up his dwindling self-image
Do not fall for a backbiter's charms
For when you turn your back against them
He takes a huge chunk of it
A backbiter is never satisfied
I may act alright, but deep-down Mollie’s words grate my mind in quite an unsatisfactory manner. I knew that she was predisposed to be strongly opinionated. But I also know, like anyone that knows, that extremely opinionated people cannot take strong opinions, nor even facts that prove that their opinions are nothing but hot air. When you are stupidly in love, you can ignore strong opinions because that would mean getting some action when the lights are turned off, or getting that unwelcoming cold shoulder.
Mollie is the sort of person who will be quiet and then randomly says things. Often, what she says has no preamble. She can begin a story in the middle and fill it up with facts later. I remember that day we were just chilling, her absentmindedly making her nails while I read a paragraph or two of whatever story caught my attention. Mollie said, in a way a prophet might say, that ‘githeri, omena, and matumbo’ are symptoms of poverty. I turned her words in my head and concluded that they could only be words that come from someone named after the first cloned sheep.
It did not bother me then. Mollie’s presence intoxicated me. Or, to put it more precisely, made me a remarkable fool. Being in love can make a grown man look like a fool because love was designed to look that way. Picture that tough man in your life and chances are that he looks and acts a fool in the presence of a female with whom he has no qualms about losing his inhibitions. It is one of the requirements of loving.
Now that I am no longer stupid, I can turn Mollie’s words in my head and try to analyse them like a specimen on a scientist’s table. For a start, Mollie claims that she is a sapiosexual. I did not know what that meant at first but I got enlightened when consulted google. You can’t really think highly of a person who thinks so lowly of other people’s favorite foods. Because she was my favorite person, I nodded to her words and sought no further explanation as that would have made me a participant in her opinions. After getting past the talking stage and then into the intimate zone, you learn to stop being a participant in certain things.
As I sit now, I wonder about the kind of research Mollie used to conclude that certain foods were a symbol of poverty. For instance, what was her hypothesis? What problem was she even researching? And she had the audacity to claim that she is a sapiosexual. Now that we are not together anymore, I can also say that pizza and fried chicken are symbols of ill health.
I loved Mollie until last Christmas. I cannot say that we were inseparable because there’s a way love makes people stupid. To say we were inseparable is to admit that I was stupid. Of course, I was, especially when she had no clothes on. I, a humble peasant, even promised to buy her a helicopter. And to prove that love makes people stupid, the daughter of Eve believed me. I guess I can conclude that the moment you become wise when in a relationship, you are no longer in love – it’s time to move. And to stay in that relationship after that is to invite bad omen, or, in severe cases, even death. Well, I am not qualified to offer any relationship advice anyway.
Mollie and I were an item until I revealed that I enjoyed slaughtering animals for food, especially on Christmas days. I did not say it in a way that made it look like slaughtering animals was a hobby I derived immense joy. No. The whole process is arduous and unsightly. You have to deal with a lot of blood. And the insides of animals aren’t aesthetically appealing either. Well, not until they have been subjected to fire for a reasonable period of time.
I remember the look on Mollie’s face. It was as though I had revealed a dark secret that would have enabled the police to nab a serial killer – me. She had asked me to repeat what I had said because Mollie was the sort of person who would make you repeat something she thought was marvelously stupid. I repeated it because I am not the sort of person who backs down from such a simple request.
“You are a disgusting human being!” At that point and time, I knew she would have chosen to cuddle scum over me.
“Why would you say that?” I asked feigning innocence. As a man, you have to learn to feign innocence when dealing with certain females you have been intimate with.
“You enjoy murdering animals?!!”
“How else would we eat them?” The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I had opened a can of worms.
She held her head and took a deep breath for what seemed like an eternity. Women are fond of doing that when you say something a certified moron would say. I was not worried because I did not find anything wrong with slaughtering and eating animals.
Mollie threw me a murderous look before she spoke.
“I cannot be in love with someone who enjoys slaughtering animals,” she finally said, then sighed deeply. I watched her chest slowly retreat into a body before stopping in its usual place, the place I liked.
“It’s not like it's my profession. I do not wake up every morning to murder animals,” I defended myself, even using the word I detested – murder.
“Murderer.” She muttered under her breath.
“What?” I asked as she does. I am the sort of person who plays against another using their own tactics to see how they like it.
“Animal murderer.”
Mollie was the sort of person with the most malleable belief system. Her worldview changed with the weather. I could tell that she had become an animal rights activist. Or desperately wanted to find a reason to break up with me. Women are sometimes like that. One day she loves you, the next day she finds the way you breathe a criminal offense. Knowing Mollie, I didn’t think she wanted to break up with me, at least not yet. The day would come, eventually, but I did not think that it would be that soon. She had professed her love a week ago, which, according to me, was reasonable enough to take me through the month. Unless I do something remarkable, which I rarely do.
Mollie had turned into those people who hate meat. I have no problem with that. The problem is trying to recruit everyone into their sick and twisted animal-loving cult. It is not just animal lovers or activists. When you look around you, people are trying to recruit you into some stupid cult. Like that group with the funny-looking initials that start L. Can’t you love something without shoving it on everyone else’s face?
I later learned that Mollie’s pet dog was run over by a car as she watched. Her sister Pollie told me. Although the dog was not hers, she had felt an obligation to join those who advocated for animal rights. for me, I believe that animals have one right – to be eaten. I told Mollie so and she spat me out of her heart, forever. It hurt since I had not projected that I would be on the hunt for another girl so soon. Now I have to wait until valentine's is over. I guess that’s when plenty of women will be on the market after being dumped or learning that they were being taken for a ride.
