Untitled Project

There’s a soft buzz just ahead. He’s early – Max is never late – but clearly some students had something to talk about ahead of class. That was always the case, there was always something to talk about; more precisely, someone to talk about. One thing was certain though. They never talked about Max. He just wasn’t an interesting enough topic to bring up. If only they knew. Max methodically pushed the half-closed door wide open and walked purposefully into the classroom. He knew his destination, his prized seat, two rows from the front and right in the middle. It was just close enough to hear the teacher whisper and yet just far enough not to be classified as a teacher’s pet. He’d worked all of that out because he cared about what people thought of him; not knowing that people didn’t care to think of him at all. Slowly placing his satchel under his desk he gathered himself and sat, rather stiffly on the stool. That’s how Max did everything, with an air of royalty and calculation. The few that spared a thought for him (if only for a second or two) found his behaviour awkward. They just never understood him, partially because they never tried. Funnily enough Max knew this but didn’t mind too much. He cared about what people thought of him but so long as there was no hostility directed towards him he could live. He slowly took out his books, (Geography was next) and exactly 3 seconds after inking his pen Mrs. Elston arrived. Just on time. Max gave himself a mental pat on the back. Everyone shuffled back to their seats, the buzz of conversation slowly died down, albeit reluctantly. The question they were all anticipating and dreading fast approaching.

“Good morning class! Did you all do the work I assigned you yesterday?”

Silence. This was going to be one long morning… or was it?

“You really are setting a poor example here. How will the new student know how to behave if not one of you knows how to behave?” she said angrily although bizarrely there was a smile on her face.

A new student? Max thought. At this time of the term? But we’re nearly through.

“Maximus.” she mock-pleaded. “You’ve done your homework, haven’t you?”

Before Max could even take a breath she answered her own question. It was rhetorical then. Why? Because in spite of his elaborate seating plan it was a well-known fact that Max was the teacher’s pet, known by everyone – everyone but him. He was rather oblivious for the genius he was.

“Of course you have. So she’ll be taking notes from you. Teach her well.” She shot him a glance. Max thought it was menacing but he was an oblivious genius. A dunce would have understood that look immediately. Mrs Elston was being rather naughty but she liked Max and felt he needed a win in his barren social life.

“But I’m getting ahead of myself!” she exclaimed. She loved ramping up the energy out of nowhere. “Class, say hello to your new classmate. Her name is Maxine.”

Maxine walked gracefully into the classroom. A sharp hush fell over the room. Max decided to take a glimpse at the new student. Glimpse turned to look… and then to gaping stare. For the next few seconds all Max could hear was his own heartbeat and all he could see was her.

Slave Or Friend

Approach me slowly.

Hush – don’t rush.

Breathe softly.

Your tongue whips out…

Yet you obey me.

Good girl! But…

 

That was never my mission!

I created a slave!

By commission or omission?

You dug your own grave!

It wasn’t my decision…

Then…

 

You finally misbehave!

You break my vase!

So you’re not a slave?

I’m so mad – I rave!

But…

 

I won’t raise my hand.

I won’t raise my voice.

You’re my only friend.

You’re my only choice.

 

You walk with me to the park.

You’re my best friend.

You comfort me with your bark.

Yes… Together! ‘Til the very end!

 

I love you Fluffy.

 

A Smashing Night

Conversation via Facebook one day after party.

Boy: It was nice getting to know you… till you absolutely crashed that is 😂

Girl: Hahahaha life! ❀ It was nice to meet you too… any chance you know where my phone went?

Boy: LOL! I mean… oh no! Sorry I have no idea where it went. Hopefully it’s still got battery. What’s your number?

Girl: Haha! Unfortunately I don’t know my number 😩

Boy: What… oh I was only asking so I could call your phone and see if anyone would answer. (basically implying: I didn’t mean, “What’s your number?” like that.) Hopefully you didn’t throw it at the party-goers downstairs 😂

Girl: People have tried calling my phone haha… I know we were a bit high up. Wait… did I try and jump?

Boy: Several times! We had to hold you back – you animal.

Girl: OMG!

Boy: 😂

Girl: What else did I do?

Boy: Well for one thing your timing was always superb. Just after joking about your life being a wreck you crashed to the floor literally a second after finishing your sentence. There was also flower pot, key word being was, till you got your hands on it.

Girl: OMG! Why? That’s crazy.

Boy: Hahahaha yeah. That was only the tip of the iceberg.

Girl: Wait there’s more?

Boy: Oh yeah! You did this weird thing where you sort of crouched down like you were doing squats using your behind to balance on every sturdy object. You did so on every wall, the fridge, the radiator… it was kind of like you were marking your territory.

Girl: Ahahahaha I can’t.

Boy: The more you drank the more easily distracted you were. I barely got two words out of you before you disappeared to mark new territory somewhere out of sight. XD

Girl: Ahahahaha OMG! As long as I was still nice.

Boy: Your irises were all black. Your pupils were that dilated. Looking into your eyes was like staring into your soul.

(Aside: This makes me wonder, does this guy even know how to pull punches? Also is he implying that the girl has a black soul?)

But you were friendly and your loco self was adorable xD

(Ah so he CAN pull punches)

Girl: Did I do drugs?

Boy: Alcohol is a drug so technically, yes you did. But in the context of what you mean, no, I don’t think so. To be honest if you weren’t so friendly tempers may have flared.

Girl: I’m glad it wasn’t too awful then.

Boy: I did laugh my ass off though, so good first meeting. Stay safe.

Girl: Ahahahaha you too!

 

PS: I still need to practise fleshing out my female characters so I’ll be doing a lot of reading now. As well as actually talking to girls *gulp*

We Can’t Sleep

Joe: I can’t sleep. Help me.

Ayanda: Tell me about it.

AJ: Us having a chat won’t help you sleep and you know that.

Ayanda: Selena Gomez!

AJ & Joe: What?

Ayanda: Remember that interview on BBC radio where they had Selena and you said you could be a better interviewer?

AJ: That was a while back though mate.

Ayanda: Well we can’t sleep… so let’s do it!

Ayanda Joe: *awakes from deep slumber* Do you have any idea how much brainpower it takes to project a well-known character accurately? Worse off one you’re making on the spot while slipping in actual bits of your own character? I’m sorry but I don’t think it’s a job just the three of you can do.

Joe: “Just”… I guess this means you’re going to help?

Ayanda Joe: You know me too well.

I was definitely reaching there. No way I can produce a good conversation with self/ves as well as have a fictional interview with Selena Gomez at 4 in the morning. So… I’ll get to it just… eventually. Just let me take a short… little… nap…

Subconscious Joe: You did it! You son-of-a-brilliant-man! You’re finally asleep. You’re finally asleep. Oh, the things I have in store for you…

Fire & Ice

“You’re so beautiful.”

That’s how it always started. A thought. Simple, precise, never uttered by word-o’-mouth but conveyed via thought and somehow understood. I remember one dream I had, when I was around 14, quite vividly. I believe at that age I had already reached the height of my creativity. It was perhaps the best time to write down plots to future books because the ideas bouncing around in my head back then were, I believe, phenomenal. Of course writing them down would be considered a wise decision… so of course I never did follow through. Today I’ll recount as much as of the dream in this post as is enjoyable.

Stunning. That’s is how she appeared to me. A being of pure energy. Dazzled as I was somehow I wasn’t too overawed. I was caught between two states, of both wonder and serenity. Seeing her made me realise my concept of beauty previously had a fixed volume in my head, a virtual box that contained all the amazing things in the universe. She shred this box to pieces, expanding outwards to unfathomable depths, gorgeous beyond even the scope of words in a thousand dictionaries. I could not describe to you how she appeared. She never looked the same for longer than a second as her appearance seemed to be in a constant state of flux. Her hair would grow long and hug her temple. It would caress her neck – it would disappear altogether – yet her appeal never diminished. She must have been slight for even though she exuded power and elegance there was a vulnerability that drew me towards her like bees are drawn to symmetry. Something within me yelled, “Protect her!” But I don’t think she ever needed it, or ever would – after all, she wasn’t human.

The moment flowed for an immeasurably. It could have been an instant – maybe I spent hours gazing at her – either way there was not a hint of discomfort between us. She gave off a powerful glow at the start, radiant like the sun at midday. It was bright out yet you the blue light emanating from her skin was blinding. I should not have been able to see her without shielding my eyes but I did, clearly I was pulling the strings to this dream. I immediately knew something was wrong when her radiance began to ebb. She was dying. How I came up with this conclusion only God knows but I knew she was and I instantly picked up the reason why.

Behind her falling towards us like a comet was an orange streak, a violent fireball with malicious intent. I could feel the loathing seething off it’s dark red flames. The closer this comet grew towards her the dimmer she shone. I saw fear in those beautiful pale eyes though if you asked me what colour they were today I’d say “none and every”. It pierced my heart, that. I could not come to appreciate that look of fear, wouldn’t. I knew deep down that if I could shelter her from danger I would even if it cost me my life. Obviously I, being just a man, could not do so. In what rational world would a being of flesh and blood be the protector of one of pure energy? My mind saw the flawed logic and reconciled the impossibility by shedding off my skin and revealing a cool body beneath. There was a sizzling as my true form came into contact with the air for the first time. Ice. Ice colder than anything you can ever imagine; as tough as diamond, as fluid as honey – that is what hid beneath.

The rage from the comet intensified. Arms and legs extended out of the ball of fire that hurtled towards us. I could hear abusive yelling although I couldn’t perceive a mouth on the figure of flames as it tried to take me down. We hit. The collision was spectacular! A blast of steam and sound radiated out as we tumbled across an empty parking lot leaving dark streaks along the tarmac. Once on our feet rapid blows were exchanged. The fight was on.

The being of fire was kinetic. He flew, rapidly, then swooped down like an eagle and swept flames like massive whips towards me. A “broad” range of emotions swirled across his face – namely ranging from rage to fury. He hurled fireballs towards me from all angles. He was fast… but I was cool. I slid across the surface, a coating of ice preceding me, staying on the ground the whole time. In my mind a being of ice cannot fly. Ice is dense, fire is not. Thick shields of ice rose up from the ground beneath me and the fire man pounded them with fireball after fireball until he realised he could not burst through. There was no way he was getting a scratch on her. Not on my watch, so he came for me instead, I – her protector. Like a peregrine falcon in for the kill he dived, gaining speed at an alarming rate. I stood my ground and increased the ice around my feet, encasing them, making myself immovable. No matter the consequence this would be the final action.

We collided once more. There was a resounding, bone-chilling whoosh as a thin film of chipped ice spread in all directions. In my hands was the being of fire, immobilised and slowly dying down, the cold stifling the heat… until he disintegrated with a sigh, one of relief. It seems like the being of fire didn’t like his role in my story, perhaps he was acting outside of his will. Either way it felt good. But that shallow feeling of victory was dwarfed by the sheer elation upon seeing the look of pure joy on her face. She was safe, bright and beautiful and that is all that mattered.

 

My Baby

My blog, my baby… I haven’t really been taking care of it. At 21 years old it seems I’ve been a very bad parent. I haven’t taken care of the thing that I have treasured, something I have brought into this earth.

How can one be so irresponsible? Do I even have a heart? It is never ok for one to only care halfway; it is better not to have cared at all. Maybe it’s immaturity, maybe I had her too young… no. That can’t be it. Others have given birth to blogs a lot younger and done well. I cannot use my age as an excuse. Besides, as age goes, I am considered a man now, I cannot hide behind my age.

“Well she doesn’t love me back,” I think, “She doesn’t make it easy for me!”

Maybe if she fed my ego with more follows, likes and comments I’d tend to her daily. Maybe if she showed me a little more respect. HAH! That’s not good enough either. Taking care of a human baby is a pain. All they do is take… but babies know no better, it’s only when they are older that they even think about giving affection. So only when my baby is older will she give back my affection. All I can do is feed her – right now it’s all about what I can give to her. The fact that she’s even around should be enough for me to give her my attention, she’s mine! My baby… mine.

a flip switches in my mind

I don’t ever want to neglect you. Never again! I heard you crying and I ignored it. I chose to sleep instead… anything but be the responsible father I promised you I would be when I brought you into this world. Yet you kept on crying. Your soft whimpers drew me close once more; and here I am. Daddy’s back.

Look at the instant smile on your face! You’re giggling already? The sun breaks through the wall of clouds. My heart melts and I break down. You’ve already forgiven me in spite of days of neglect? If everyone was like you this world would be so much better than it is. Seeing you smile has given me life, your welcome has spurred me on. I will take care of you. I will no longer neglect you. So keep smiling baby girl! My baby… mine. Daddy’s back… and he’s here to stay.

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.

Imaginary Conversation (With A Pretty Girl)

Boy: Hey

Girl: Uhm… Hello.

Boy: You’re really pretty.

Girl: Well you’re really straightforward!

Boy: I was told honesty is the best policy.

Girl: That’s rather clichĂ© of you, don’t you think?

Boy: ClichĂ©? Maybe it is… my source of advice isn’t very… young shall I say.

Girl: Next you’re going to tell me your source of advice is your Grandma.

Boy: *feigns it but it looks like genuine surprise* Wait… you know her? How did you know? Have you met her before?

Girl: What? No. *laughs*

Boy: Ah. There we go. Mission complete. *Stands up to leave*

Girl: Wait… So that’s it? *raises eyebrow* That’s all you’ve got?

Boy: What? I think you may have mistaken my intentions, miss.

Girl: Oh I see. Well that was rather uninspiring. I’m disappointed.

Boy: I guess I failed my mission *moves to sit down*

Girl: No, no, it’s fine. No need to sit down again. I’m actually waiting for a friend so you might as well head on your way.

Boy: I seem to have offended you. Might I ask how?

Girl: *scoffs* I’m not offended. I’m just surprised.

Boy: By what exactly?

Girl: I expected more than just a “mission complete”. That came off as rather lame don’t you think?

Boy: You want to hear something awesome about that?

Girl: What?

Boy: … to be honest I wasn’t expecting you to respond so I didn’t have an answer ready.

Girl: *laughs* Oh my God, you’re hopeless!

Boy: See? That’s it! Right there! That’s what I was trying to do.

Girl: *wipes away tears* to prove how hopeless you are?

Boy: Well there’s that, but more importantly to make you laugh. That was my mission.

Girl: *sarcastically* That’s rather gallant of you.

Boy: I wouldn’t say that to be honest but it’s something I’ve always believed in. Making people happier than they were before I met them. I saw you sitting there with God knows what on your mind and I just had to try and make you laugh. You did, hence mission accomplished! *flashes her a toothy grin*

Girl: Maybe you aren’t so hopeless after all. I guess I should say thank you?

Boy: No need. But so as not to be impolite, you’re welcome… in actual fact I should be the one to thank you!

Girl: *quizzical look* Now why is that?

Boy: I don’t always accomplish my mission. Some people just won’t have a stranger chat with them no matter their intent.

Girl: Maybe it’s because we mustn’t talk to strangers?

Boy: Who’s being clichĂ© now? *pointed look, gentle smile*

Girl: *smiles back* Touché.

Boy: You want to hear something astounding?

Girl: Surprise me.

Boy: You’ve done a great job cheering me up by talking to me. I really appreciate it. Thank you. *rises*

Girl: Wait… you’re joking right? Really? You looked you’re doing the same thing as before.

Boy: Ah yes but this time I’m leaving you with a smile on your face. Have a good night…?

Girl: *raises eyebrow* I’m guessing I’m supposed to fill in my name? *laughs*

Boy: I guess I’ll call you Aida.

Girl: What an odd name… why Aida?

Boy: It means happy and judging by the look on your face it’s accurate and it suits you… It’s been a pleasure meeting you Aida.

Girl: Hmmm. At least I’ve learned something new today. May I ask? What’s your name?

Boy: Call me Joe.

Girl: Joe… you’re not so regular are you?

Joe: I’d like to think so. Thanks. Hopefully I’ll see you around, Aida?

Girl: Vanessa… It’s Vanessa. And yes. I hope I’ll see you around too.

The End