Favourite Songs: Pre-Teen

I’ve decided to list the top five songs from my childhood, at least as I remember them.

Thriller – Michael Jackson

Black Or White – Michael Jackson

Dad came back one day with a DVD (a common theme regarding this list). It was a compilation of MJ’s best music, one my Dad had brought back from a work trip to our Western neighbours, Botswana (this will also be a common theme). MJ would thus cement himself as my favourite artist growing up. I mean, the guy has two gems in my top 5. If nothing else he was a real talent.

All Star – Smash Mouth

This song holds a special place in my heart. First heard on a DVD Dad brought back from Botswana this song signalled the birth of Joe the public speaker. As I recall it, music class was approaching an end and we had a few minutes to spare before the bell rang. Our teacher was gracious enough to give us, a group of overexcited 10 year olds, the chance to make utter fools out of ourselves. A friend of mine, an even more overzealous kid called Tino, then prompted me to rap the popular song that had been making the rounds as the background to a potato chip ad. It also featured on Rat Race, a movie I thoroughly enjoyed because it had Rowan Atkinson in it… and Rowan Atkinson is a simply glorious creation… he IS Mr. Bean! Now normally I would have shied away from the spotlight… normally… the thing most people don’t know is that this was also the time when the idea of crushes was beginning to take hold in my mind. I had someone I needed to impress. So I gave it a go… and I must say, it was a resounding success.

True Colours – Phil Collins

This was the birth of my taste in good music. What a jam! The reason it eventually became my favourite is actually because of peer pressure. One of my closest childhood friends, Bomi was and still is his name, laughed at me when I owned up to never having heard the song before. The guy could laugh! It was so annoying. “How could you not know this song?” he asked increduoulsy and teary eyed. This was pre-confident me… I didn’t take it too well… so I went home and looked for the song, writing down the lyrics and learning it word for word. It’s stupid, I know this and I agree with you, but  had it not happened I don’t think I would have loved the music I love today. And I love the music I love today. Why? Because it’s good music!

Life Is A Highway – Rascal Flatts

‘Cars’… What a movie! The highlight: a scene right after the first race when Lightning got in the huge truck and on the road. The music in this scene was simply glorious. I cried upon singing it! I know… I was an emotional little child back then, maybe it contributed to my lack of tears right now. Perhaps I used them all up when I was younger. Anyway, I learned the song word for word by replaying the DVD my Dad brought back from (I’m sure you know by now) a work trip to Botswana over and over. I played the DVD from that scene one day when he was about to leave for work. He came back to find me replaying that very scene still over 8 hours later! It’s the only reason I learned how to use loop on a DVD player! It’s partly why it ranks first in my list.

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Shhhh… Thank You

Lightning flashes across the sky.

Cracking it open for a short while.

So bright! I’m blinded I can’t see!

I blink away the the weird shapes obscuring my vision.

They finally float away.

For a second I think I’m safe then… CRACK!

The thunder comes.

Yay! That’s my favourite part!

I jump in mock shock.

I love the drums!

After all I’m a fan of rock!

That’s why I lose the game a lot.

I’m always choosing bloody rock…

As if it lives, I just called it “bloody”.

It must be iron that’s why it’s ruddy…

My best friend, my only buddy.

Tell me to stop now. (Referring to myself?)

This stream of thought is unhealthy.

It’s poison don’t you see?

An endless flow of words tumbling over,

Like a waterfall, trailing into the deep.

I’m dry for days, then suddenly – I gush out!

I can’t stop speaking!

You just want me to shut up.

So I do.

My Favourite Kind Of Movie Romance

So… Spider-Man. It seems to be a recurring theme on my blog, doesn’t it? The title to this post refers to the romance between protagonist Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) and his girlfriend, Gwen Stacy (Emma Stone) in the film ‘The Amazing Spider-Man’. They shared  I found to be very intriguing.

Why am I fan? Well there’s a substantial amount of making out in the film. That’s some good eye candy right there! 😂 But that’s the least attractive thing about their dynamic. Both are witty – blessed to the sky with conversational acrobatics akin to the parkour the title character exhibits. Yet when Peter tried courting Gwen he fumbled about like a toddler in the world’s darkest room. So awful was his attempt to woo her – it actually worked. Here’s the interesting bit: one could attribute shyness to vulnerability. Peter completely lacked confidence because he was out of his depth when it came to Gwen. One could argue that they were characters written to make the perfect match yet to Peter that wasn’t the case. Peter felt inferior next to Gwen. You have to understand this version of Peter was pretty confident. Nah scratch that, he was actually pretty cocky. So to feel that way regarding Gwen only meant that his view of her was untarnished. She was more than great in his eyes. To him she was perfect.

Ths argument would then be brought up. Nobody is perfect – so this relationship would never work. After all the illusion of perfection would fade eventually. Yet being perfect to Peter need not mean actually being perfect. Peter accepted Gwen and loved her, imperfections and all as if she were perfect. I think that’s special. Throughout the movie it feels like they’re in the honeymoon period and it never lets up. Even when they place each others lives at stake there is no resentment, only worry for each other’s safety. They seemed like a young, more vibrant version of Uncle Ben and Aunt May… a couple whose relationship spanned decades, ’til death. I could see their relationship lasting just as long.

For Peter two things mattered more than anything. Gwen’s safety as well as her happiness in equal measure. I stress the word equal. Gwen loved Peter with equal intensity. The depth of character provided by the script and the performances was equally impressive. There was an equality in their relationship, intelligence as well as relevance. In actual fact, Gwen was ahead of him in the intellectual pecking order in school – and Peter was a well-acknowledged genius.

I appreciate that even when they barely knew each other she offered him solace at the passing of his uncle, his sole living father figure. Her shared sorrow was nearly tangible. Yet when her own father dies something odd happens. Peter doesn’t attend the funeral.

It’s quite sad. What makes it worse is that Peter is partially responsible for the deaths of his uncle as well as Gwen’s father. Yet he didn’t attend the latter’s funeral. It had to do with a promise he made to the man as he was dying. To keep his daughter, Gwen, away from harm. So he had to leave her. Nobody close to Spider-Man would ever truly be safe. So he kept the promise. But after seeing that both of them were unhappy with his decision he broke his promise. It would be pointless to keep her safe if she was unhappy. So Gwen’s happiness was above his integrity and superseded even his immense guilt.

PS They were also very cute together. I think that’s all I needed to say really.

My Second Most Embarrassing Moment

As penance for not going through with my daily posts I’ve decided to add this more personal one. If I don’t put up a daily post in the future I’ll post my most embarrassing moment to date. Hopefully that won’t be necessary.

PS This post ties in quite nicely to my last, so do check it out.

Occasion: Prize-giving Night/Ceremony.

Setting: First place at new school after having failed miserably during the first couple of months of ‘integration’.

Location: Eaglesvale Preparatory School, Harare, Zimbabwe

Time: Sometime after 6 pm (which is usually full on night time in Harare.)

The night had gone better than planned. I felt immensely proud of my achievement and I was happy to note that I had brought joy to my parents as well as my little sister. Can you imagine that she elected to sit on my lap throughout the proceedings? That was really adorable, wasn’t it? Now she’s far too tall and old to do so without breaking my hipbone. Sitting to my right was the second placed student, Ruva was (I should probably say is unless she changed names) her name. She was giggling the whole time, something I guess I’d long attributed to her nature. If something was funny she’d let those around her know it, a redeemable trait if you asked me (at the time).

If you read my last post then you’ll understand why I was elated. I was beyond ecstatic on the night and the excitement I felt was just waiting for the right person then it would burst out of me… I could feel it bubbling throughout the ceremony, just waiting to erupt.

The proceedings kept the students winning prizes segregated from the main student body as well as their parents. So I would only be seeing mine (possessive pronoun because I love them) when they got to the car. Parents would have tea and cake, refreshments of all sorts waiting for them… students would have to find out where the cars were parked and wait there, in the dark.

I found the car. Mitsubishi Chariot, huge thing, especially to a ten year old version of myself – one who hadn’t encountered SUVs before. I waited in the dark for my parents to come so I could give them both hugs and share squeals of delirious delight. Then I saw my mother approaching, in the dark, and ran to her like a wild animal let out of it’s cage for the first time in years.

“Mommy! I…”

I’m sure you get it now… It wasn’t my mother I’d run towards… It wasn’t my mother who had witnessed me screaming gleefully… No, it wasn’t my mother… It was Ruva’s! And boy did she laugh.

I can hear it even now, eleven years on. I feel if there was an escalator between heaven and earth the people at the top would have been trembling from the shockwaves of her laughter. I’m sure that even in the vacuum of space it could be heard. So loud and genuine was her laugh that it shattered all of my ego. My large, proud head was brought down to size and then some. Oh – to top it off, her Mom giggled too…

To this day I don’t know why I reacted the way I did. Maybe I could have kept my cool better? But I was 10 and this was a major achievement for several reasons. Ruva’s mother was a bit on the plump and short side, especially in the dark. In 2006 my mother fit that profile. It was also dark and they were walking towards me. But I’d made a massive mistake. Before today only four people knew about it. The three that took part included. Only one of them remembers it vividly. (Unless I have DID/MPD.)

After the whole debacle, the next day even, I was told that they’d seen me make my way to the car and had wanted to congratulate me on my first place award. That obviously didn’t happen as planned. Completely bewildered by the awkward proceedings, Ruva’s mother found it best to abruptly change direction and her daughter and she went to the car using a different route.

“Ndiye Ayanda akangwara wacho iyeyu?” she asked incredulously as Ruva’s earth-shuddering cackle FINALLY subsided. This loosely translates to, “This is the genius you were telling me about? Really? This guy?” Only to have her daughter start laughing again.

Needless to say everytime I talk to my friend I recall this meeting. Thankfully she doesn’t bring it up (too often). It may have happened over a decade ago but it still ranks second on my list of embarrassing moments.

 

 

I AM Crazy… What’s The Problem?

After chilling on this beautiful planet for just about two decades, interacting with beings that look like me, opposable thumbs and all , one would think that I would know the social norms and adhere to them. Turns out that isn’t the case. Actually, it isn’t the case with several other humans as well. I decided to call the term “normalcy” into question when I was reproached, albeit non-verbally, for speaking aloud while alone… you know, because somebody you’ve never met decided it was weird.

Speaking aloud when alone makes you crazy

I decided to do some research on the signs of craziness, more politely known as mental illness. According to webmd.com (I don’t know how reputable they are but their website was at the top of the results of a quick Google search) the signs for mental illness include:

  • Confused thinking
  • Long-lasting sadness or irritability
  • Extremely high and low moods
  • Excessive fear, worry, or anxiety
  • Social withdrawal
  • Dramatic changes in eating or sleeping habits
  • Strong feelings of anger
  • Delusions or hallucinations (seeing or hearing things that are not really there)
  • Increasing inability to cope with daily problems and activities
  • Thoughts of suicide
  • Denial of obvious problems
  • Many unexplained physical problems
  • Abuse of drugs and/or alcohol

I don’t know how I feel about this list. I’ve read it over a couple of times and I wish I could say that it’s totally bonkers. Unfortunately that would mean I’m proving the third last statement correct. I’m going to go through each of the points and briefly mention what I think.

Ok, look… Maybe it’s just me but I always assumed that people, especially those transitioning through uncertain periods of their lives, like I am at the moment, experience all of these rarely, often or on a daily basis (depending on the person) and it’s absolutely normal. Isn’t it? I am confused at certain periods. Who doesn’t ever get confused? Next up, sadness and irritability… some dude probably thought of a misogynistic joke right now (shame on you) but don’t we all experience those? Aren’t they a part of our emotional spectrum? Excessive fear… “excessive” compared to what exactly? Normal people? Social withdrawal… no comment. Dramatic changes in eating and sleeping habits – two words – college student. Strong feelings of anger – one word – tuition. Delusions and hallucinations? Others argue that life itself is some kind of a hallucination, that hopes and dreams are delusions because face it, how many people get to achieve what they dream? Does that make it a delusion? Dreaming or imagining something that doesn’t/probably won’t ever happen? Daily problems aren’t easy to solve. Hence the term “problem”. I think it makes sense to not be able to cope… unless it’s math… then again it still makes sense because math can be hard. Thoughts of suicide – again, no comment… actually I will comment. If you never think of committing suicide, hat off to you mate! Denial of obvious problems – watch any movie ever and tell me that that isn’t a part of human nature. Unexplained physical problems? Answer: Puberty. Last but not least, abuse of drugs. That makes most of the UK crazy by definition. Also, sleep is not a drug but if it was (were?) I certainly abuse it alright.

Let’s face it, if this was a test then I would have failed miserably. Looking at this checklist I’m definitely “crazy”. Perhaps I’m reading the bullet points out of context. Maybe I’m confused/deluded. To be honest I don’t know what I feel about this anymore. At least I can say that talking to oneself aloud isn’t on the list in spite of the assumption that many “crazy” people share that trait.

One thing that I would like to get across: crazy/weird is whatever strays from the mean. If you aren’t like everybody else then there has to be something wrong with you – that’s the general consensus. But who is the standard? Who sets the standard for what is normal? What did they do to earn that right?

In my honest opinion, as long as you hurt nobody, including yourself – it really doesn’t matter… just do you.

Trafalgar Square

Look at the pretty lion. Roarrrrrrr! Funny enough they could never have lions naturally in the UK because they wouldn’t survive. LOL. Way to start off the blog Joe, be a savage.

Wasup peeps? Guess who went to Trafalgar Square today? This guy! “This guy” as in me. I must say it was absolutely lovely! I went there on the hottest August day recorded since the late 90s… in the 19th century that is. And boy were there loads of hot girls… physically, literally and metaphorically speaking. I worked up a real sweat because of all of the above and lots of walking.

I even had a chat with one of the peeps by the information desk. He was lovely. He gave me some wonderful information about Trafalgar Square, I remember almost none of it but I took a video so you can check it out on YouTube; you know… when I actually grow a pair and give you my YouTube channel name.

All in all it was such a productive day to be honest. I managed to get a high-paying, high-reward job for the school term, talked to the client manager who also happened to be the lady I had a crush on (had the crush die because I encountered unsavoury information after a little bit of interrogation). I also saw some beautiful art in the National Art Gallery, with paintings drawn back when the nip was still free (oh yeeeeeeahhhhh). It was generally such a good day for me that I’m surprised at myself for ending the post here.

Check out some of the pictures below. Take care!

That Awkward Moment When Romcoms Are Better Than Real Life

‘That Awkward Moment’ was lovely as hell… well, if hell was lovely. I thoroughly enjoyed the movie after what was probably my fourth time viewing. The banter… the writers need to be paid double whatever they earned for their fine work. If I had a friend who had the verbal prowess of any of the three main characters, portrayed by Zac Efron, Miles Teller and Michael B. Jordan, I’d immediately ask for their hand in marriage, be they female or otherwise. And Imogen Poots… my word! Her character was gifted with the perfect measure of quirkiness, wit and authenticity. She was unbelievably cool. If she were real and if we met, it would be love at first sight, at least from my point of view.

In all honesty I fell in love with the characters in the movie, so much so that I had that pang of disappointment when I knew the end was fast approaching. I know that at times it’s cheesy, I know that it’s almost impossible to experience anything similar in real life, I know they swear a lot more than is acceptable but that’s what makes it so wonderful – it’s different from what I encounter every other day. That’s what makes it better.

Now hold up. Why is a romcom, a ROMCOM better than real life? I guess that’s what it’s meant to be. There’s a sad period in most romcoms somewhere but there’s almost always a happy ending. The best part being that the happy ending is achieved in under 2 hours. Real happy endings take a very long time, freaking forever. It’s not even funny. So I guess that’s one of the reasons romcoms are amazing.

There’s also the idea that every protagonist nearly always finds “the One”. If I can remember the Zac Efron line that brought out the inner girl in me it went something like:

“I wasn’t afraid because I thought she wasn’t the one… I was absolutely terrified because I knew she was.”

I mean come on! Doesn’t that just make your spine quiver? There was even a major arc in this movie dedicated to MBJ’s happily ever interrupted by a gruesome divorce… Yet they still find a way to make the movie have a happy ending for everyone involved. How? Why must the ideal and the real be so damn parallel? The author of life surely didn’t intend for it to be this way?

Books and movies and novels are meant to inspire us by letting us know what could be. Key words: what could be. It should be possible to have conversations filled with great banter. “The One” should exist for every single one of us. Life should work out but it very often doesn’t. Why is that the story of humanity? Please make life better than a romcom. That’s all the girl in me really wants LOL.

Thing is; we can do it… we really can! All we need is to cast aside the masks that we wear. All we need is to be the diverse beings we truly are and stop trying to be like that ideal person because newsflash, the ideal person doesn’t exist. Ideal self does. And if everyone was their ideal self then… then we’d be talking. Then we’d be on our way to that world whose script is a reputable number of times better than the romcom I watched this evening. Then ‘That Awkward Moment’ wouldn’t be better than real life, and that would be awesome.

Bye Bye Twitter, Bye Bye Loneliness

Dear Blog,

I actually really like that salutation. I think I’ll use it from now on whenever I’m directing my thoughts, feelings at you, yes YOU you inanimate being.  Or should I direct my content to my readers? (cue the negative half of me saying,  “What readers?“) I’ll think about it. Anyway, to the point of this post. I feel sad. Yes that is an elementary level sentence but there’s no better way to describe the way I’m feeling right now. I just left the one thing that was keeping me together because it was also the one thing that was holding me back. I’ve decided it’s time to move on. This is where I say, “Goodbye Twitter.”

For the past 2 months (yes it seems kinda short but it really isn’t) every spare moment I had was basically spent doing one of three things: sleeping (duh), surfing the net about football related articles and, most of all, tweeting. The latest of my activities, tweeting, was something I picked up from a girl a long-ish time ago. Why I revived it now… who knows? My only guess is that it was possibly an outlet for me. I have loads of statements floating around in my mind. I even have full-blown conversations with myself occasionally… not OUT LOUD… well, at least not all the time… but I have never really found the right medium to express myself? Is that it? Not sure.

I’m in a foreign land. That shouldn’t matter too much to me because I’m unbelievably confident, perhaps even over-confident… at least that’s what I kept telling myself… but something just wasn’t clicking. The people were great! Banter came so naturally to most of them and anyone who can read minds would know that I crave good banter  – but I just couldn’t click with any of them, you know? It felt like I was surrounded by talking mannequins. They may look pretty but somehow it just isn’t right. Don’t get me wrong, the place is great, the people are great and I’m still me but I always felt like that odd piece in the jigsaw… like that one piece you can’t fit anywhere in Tetris. Fitting in just wasn’t working… I mean I had several acquaintances but no real friends. I was cool with several people but tight with none of them… except for the one guy with the unbelievably goofy and frankly sometimes terrifying smile – but he only ever popped up in the world BEHIND the mirror, forever out of reach.

So I had a dilemma. How to fix it? Oooh, I know! Let’s visit that place where everyone voices their opinion. Maybe you’ll find like for like. Maybe you’ll find friends. That’s what I told myself and I bolted, like a very thirsty desert rat after a distant oasis. Only that oasis wasn’t really an oasis. You just gotta hate mirages because that’s all Twitter was. It was a beautiful mirage. But it was never real. The same thing occurred. My electric personality (LOL) earned me a cult following. I was added to group chats by people I did not know. I received direct messages from people who liked the positive impact I had on their lives. I poured hours and hours of my time in to fragile, frankly meaningless relationships with people who probably wouldn’t shed a tear if I died today. Whoa that came out sounding terribly morbid. Even I didn’t know that’s what I was thinking all along, but there you have it.

So… I’m done. I’ve said my goodbyes. I’ve spoken time and time again about the importance of (I bet you guessed it) time. I can’t go on not doing the things that’ll progress my life.

What am I doing here then? Is this any different? Well, I’ve always wanted to write. To compile my thoughts, unaltered by others’ opinions. This is the perfect platform for that I think. If it turns out awry I’m prepared to try something else… not because I’m a quitter but because I’m learning to realise what’s not good for me a lot quicker. I might go back to Twitter one day; I want to be famous after all. Not just so that I could walk on the red carpet with Margot Robbie and Cara Delevigne (although I would donate certain parts of my body gleefully to do just that) but because I’d have the platform to share what really matters to me. I’d have the megaphone required to really, definitively impact every life positively. And that’s something I wasn’t doing as much because I would spend every other waking moment chasing after what is a mirage for the time being.

What about the loneliness I’ve been feeling according to this post? I read somewhere that your talents will bring people towards you, kings even. So I’ll focus on being the best I can be in what I do and those people that I need in my life will come. After reading a certain someone’s blog, can’t even pronounce their long ass name if I tried, it hit me that I’ve been foolish for a long while. I’ve never truly been alone, I just chose to see it like that. Time to change my perspective.

Thanks for reading this. Be blessed.

Yours sincerely,

Joe

If I Had A Superpower

The idea of human beings with supernatural abilities has fascinated me from as early as I can remember. I guess it doesn’t help that I was born during the golden age of animation. Because of my exposure to animated characters with ‘abilities’ and what I believe is the natural human behaviour of seeking out things “beyond normal”, I spent a considerable period of time wishing I had superpowers… and I still do.

I guess it really took hold of me when I watched the movie, Spider-Man, starring Tobey Maguire. A regular (perhaps even sub-regular) high school kid developed spider-like abilities after being bitten by a radioactive spider. He transformed totally and became someone even remotely worthy of emulation. I chased spiders down, alright! They never bit me, thank God, but that certainly wasn’t for lack of trying.

Then came one of my favourite songs after having featured on “Space Jam”‘s soundtrack titled, “I Believe I Can Fly”. Thank the Lord our house was a single storey building or I wouldn’t be able to share this story at all (because I’d be dead or lame). I then grew up (if only physically) and moved on to immerse myself in books, movies, tv shows and animation centred around superhuman individuals. I immersed myself so much so that I would spend any spare moment in bed creating worlds and stories with me (or a character I called “myself”) as the protagonist; imbued with supernatural powers often on a quest to save humanity in as aesthetically pleasing a manner as possible.

When I pranced into adolescence the focus shifted from looking cool and enjoying myself to looking cool and enjoying myself while winning some girl’s (or girls’) heart(s) over. Those were good times. Unfortunately I don’t do that anymore. Perhaps because when I’m in bed all I want to do is sleep. Maybe I should try start again? It did keep my imagination active. Leave your suggestions in the comments.

“What powers would I give myself ?” you ask. Said powers would range from controlling the weather to just ice or any one of the elements. Super-speed and control over lightning were among my favourites. Mind-reading and mind-manipulation (don’t judge me). Super-strength, invisibility, you name it, I day-dreamt it! How I would acquire these powers would vary. Sometimes I would be in a very difficult spot and they’d naturally manifest due to extreme distress. Other times I had to BELIEVE. And often I would have an encounter with a supernatural being, perhaps saving them in an act of selflessness. I would then be granted a wish or given powers as a reward for my bravery. It goes without saying that the supernatural being would be a girl oftentimes because puberty dictated it so. Over time I singled out the one superpower I loved more than all the rest. The power of super-speed.

“Why super-speed?” you ask. Well super-speed catered for each and every stage of my growing up. In the very early stage it would allow me to show off. Athletics was probably the most exciting of the sports in school and with super-speed I’d be a guaranteed winner in every race. There was also the fact that I could steal anything without being noticed, play a prank on anyone without being caught, read answers from my textbook during the exam and more so fast that I would never have to worry about anything. As I got older, *ahem… puberty*, I came to the realisation that although invisibility would allow me to peek and do some of the naughtier things in life, it would not allow me to get away if somehow caught in the act. This is my blog (LOL) so I’m going to elaborate whether you like it or not. If you want to save yourself you might want to skip to the next paragraph. So it came across me that invisibility would allow me to peek at girls in the shower. That was an attractive prospect, unfortunately I’d still be tangible. I would also still be audible and just as fast as I am normally. On top of that I wouldn’t be able to reach places I normally wouldn’t be able to reach etc. In that frame of mind, peeking would become a whole lot more difficult to do without being found out. Embarrassing as it may be, these thoughts plagued the early adolescent version of myself. If I was unable to move out of the way when some unexpected development occurred my presence would be noted, albeit anonymous. Now that I say it it does sound quite exciting but the danger would be too great. With super speed I could be behind said person all day without being found out. I’d move too fast for sound to pick up and if they turned around I’d move at the same speed as their head turned to not be noticed. (Yes a younger me thought about all of this. I’m as shocked as you are to find this out now that I’m writing it all down). Along with many other fine points which I will discuss at another point, super-speed is an ability you can find useful throughout the day at any point in time. Wherein something like flying, invisibility or mind-reading, although wonderful, can only be used at certain times.

Now that I’m in my early twenties I realise that time is of essence. No other super power, except perhaps one that manipulates time allows you to have “more time”. Super-speed does. With super-speed I would be able to complete my tasks rapidly. As time is a relative quantity, the very fact that I could move faster than everything else would make life “slow down” in relation to me, allowing me to have more time than others on this glorious earth. Of that time, more would be allotted to the things I care about as all the annoying but necessary tasks would be completed as quickly as possible (and that would be very quick with these powers). Imagine finishing every assignment in a day… studying for your whole degree in an hour. That would be possible with the super-speed ability. Exams wouldn’t need to last that long and one could find out what they’re best at since they have all the time in the world to try out everything… if not they have all the time in the world to master what they are not good at. If I had super-speed it wouldn’t have taken me this long to finish typing this blog. If you had super-speed you would have finished reading it much sooner and would have gone on to do what mattered most to you… and possibly finished that too.

Here’s to super speed! If I get a new body after death I pray I have it.

This Moment

It’s early Saturday morning, 07:17 to be exact, and I am yet to hit the hay. This shouldn’t come as a huge surprise. One does not earn the title “Night Rider” (I just came up with that) by sleeping when the sun is down. I must confess, there is something profoundly different about my staying awake during *“ungodly” hours this time round.

*”ungodly” in quotation marks because the night was never designed for ungodliness

At some point during the day, after watching an endless stream of YouTube videos, I was struck by this sudden urge to be in motion, to DO SOMETHING. Do you ever feel like life is passing you by and time is just trickling between your fingers like a steady stream of liquid? That’s how I’ve been feeling during this elongated summer break. After admiring what young, vibrant people were accomplishing on YouTube I finally decided that enough was enough!

So I chose to make the time count. It was 1600 Friday afternoon when I decided that, except… I only undertook it a mere 8 hours later! BMT is better than nothing, right? Maybe. But punctuality trumps all. On a side note, to be fair to my fellow people of colour, procrastination has nothing to do with your complexion. It is a state of mind that I and many others have to eradicate from our system because it steals our lives away from us. I’m working on that issue but clearly there’s much room for improvement. Where was I again? Right… I left my room and moved to the study area because if I’m going to be productive where else will I go?

It’s 07:05. All I’ve done from midnight till now is dabble with Photo Booth. That’s it. Over 7 hours and that’s all I’ve done. I’d told myself I would make a rap video for the new mega-blockbuster Suicide Squad. My lack of singing ability made it quite a hit, at least to me, but there is no way this video is going on YouTube, sorry YouTubers.

07:10 I visit a YouTube page (as if that comes as a surprise anymore) titled “it’s AMI” and surprise surprise, there’s a 4 minute motivational video. I listen to it because… well… I convince myself that there is nothing better to do (but there is! There always is!) I pay attention to her words (AMI that is), maybe judge her appearance for a sec and admit I am more than satisfied by what I see but what stands out for me is the song in the background. It’s ‘Moment 4 Life’. Now I’m not a huge Nicki Minaj fan but I must say that chorus is quite sublime. For me the words “moment” and “life” just popped and stuck in my brain.

*I am approaching the crux of this message so pay close attention.

With those two words ringing in my ears I realised that I was up at 07:15 in the morning on a Saturday. My plans for the day were meh… football and meh… but at that moment, with those two words bouncing around in my seemingly empty skull it hit me like a runaway train. That moment I spent doing God-knows-what was gone. Friday the 12 of August 2016 was gone. I cannot rewind time, I cannot re-do the day… it’s gone, finished, and in my native Shona – zvafa. It hit me like a hailstorm of boulders. That moment when I procrastinated is what separates me from where I want to be, it’s what separating you from becoming the person you admire. We all live life with the same number of moments. Don’t get me wrong – people die at unexpected times, have different opportunities and circumstances but if you live through a day – that day has 24 hours… that’s 1440 minutes, 86400 seconds (yes I used a calculator for the last one… maybe even the one before) and it’s the same for EVERY SINGLE HUMAN BEING. Fact is, when that day is over, it’s over.

I would like to urge you to not be like me over the past few hours, maybe months or even years. I regret the single wasted moment I had that I’ll never have again. Imagine if I keep this up. How many such moments would have slipped through my fingers in a lifetime? In this moment I could have researched something that would have dramatically changed my mindset. I could have saved someone’s life, rejuvenated a weary soul… somehow. I could have mapped out what I want for the days ahead or made provisions for said map. I could even have simply chatted with a friend and eased whatever emotional baggage he/she had but I didn’t do any of that. Instead I did nothing of consequence. That moment has slipped away – forever.

In conclusion I’ll leave you with this. Life will give you a series of moments. It’s up to you how you choose to live them out. Once you have spent your moment, IT’S GONE! So do that thing you’ve been wanting to do but have been constantly putting off. Write that journal entry (yay me!), write that script/lyric, greet that crush, hug that neighbour, read that book, upload that YouTube video, visit that gym… you know what it is you want to do more than I do. You’re probably picturing it right now. Do it. Just do it! Now, in this moment! The moment you’ll never have again. Live!