Fraud

You’re a fraud.

“Excuse me?”

What? You thought I’d never say it?

Did you think that I lacked the courage or that I couldn’t see it?

It’s so evident it’s borderline embarrassing.

You ask, “How are you?” one moment, the say “Goodbye!” the next.

Before I even got to say a word.

What response did you expect when you couldn’t share one breath?

You’re “busy”.

LOL.

I absolutely get it.

The most important thing in this world is time.

Who you devote it to might as well be your bride.

I love that excuse, as if you think that a year from now you’ll be less busy.

Think about that for a moment.

Excuse me… where was I? Oh, that’s right.

You smile as you listen to my stories – actually that’s false!

To listen you must hear and when we speak you’re clearly a world away.

Your smile’s as thin as a razor, cutting up my soul… maybe… if I still had one.

Be upfront next time.

As we said before, what matters most in this world is time, so please don’t waste mine.

Don’t say “hello” if all you’re thinking is goodbye.

“I was trying to be nice.”

Nice try. That’s a lie…

And you’re a fraud.

You’re “worried” about me you say? Don’t be.

I’ll be totally fine when you’re gone.

How do I know?

Well… that’s because all along, I’ve been a fraud too.

Inspired by Words of Radiance – Brandon Sanderson.

#lies #Sadeas

No Woody!

Woody Harrelson. So I decided to take an 81 min break and watch a movie. The movie is Zombieland, incredibly violent, asinine, funny as can be and an absolutely awful watch when you’re having dinner (which I was).

Woody isn’t the protagonist but he absolutely steals the show. His character isn’t witty… it isn’t meant to be. He’s just absolutely genuine and genuinely idiotic. But the moment that takes the cake is when he turns into the the world’s best anti-wingman. My man Jesse isn’t even aiming to get laid. All he wanted to do in this life was brush aside some hair. That was his life purpose – much like Woody and his Twinkie. Yet when the opportunity finally arose for the boy to sorta become a man, albeit a hair-caressing one, I found myself screaming:

“No Woody!”

Gotta love the man.

Man O’ My Word aka Be My Hammer, I’ll Be Your Thor

Dear Blog,

 

Hey you! Yes you! Haven’t you heard?

You can count on me – I’m a man o’ my word.

And you’ll believe it, coz I’ve said it, then it’s gotta be true.

You won’t believe me? Fine then – believe you!

You say it more than I do, I know it sounds absurd.

“Ayanda Joe Munikwa, you’re a man o’ your word!”

 

Maybe if we say it enough times it’ll finally happen.

Coz the sheer number of promises I’ve been snapping is amazing!

Now I’m not making excuses, I put that PhD to the side.

I laid down my pride and decided I wouldn’t ever lie.

Even if it’ll save me trouble later, better to stay humble now.

I don’t want to stumble so I’ll mumble, goo goo gaga, ciao.

 

In the future, even now, trust is gold.

So I’m sorry I’ve been missing truth be told.

I said I’d take care of you. I didn’t even forget!

The truth of it is I just chose to neglect…

 

But I’m a man o’ my word. That’s what we said!

So I think it’s time we finally prepared,

For a rollercoaster ride like never before!

Where you will be my hammer and I’ll be your Thor!

Love,

Joe

 

 

Hold Your Hand

Inspired by Lay Me Down a song performed by Sam Smith featuring John Legend.

 

Yes, I see – I feel – the emptiness that you have left behind in place of you.

I feel your presence is long gone. The space that once was yours is now empty.

Your voice, your laugh, the joy that you once brought – all gone… to say it out loud it feels so wrong.

All that time, all the plans that we made. Our hopes and dreams now shattered and worthless.

Didn’t even tell me that you’d be gone.

I’ve just been here waiting for far too long.

 

Chorus

Can I just hold your hand?

That’s all I ask for.

All I ask for.

Don’t you understand?

That’s all I ask for.

I don’t want more.

 

Good music makes me wish I could sing every once in a while. You should definitely listen to the original! If I had the talent then I would have added a link to a rendition of this version of the song… but I don’t – so I won’t. Just imagine it being done by Sam Smith and enjoy – hopefully. 

Hey Brother, It’s Been A While

Dear Ayanda,

Hey there. It’s been a while since we last caught up… so this might be a long message. I’m sure you won’t mind too much.

Some interesting things have happened lately, most have made me very happy and others have made me ask questions of myself – that’s a good thing, right? The standout feature of my time away is that most of my waking hours are spent at work. The hours racked up in direct proportion to the responsibility I was handed. Funny how I think it’s great that I have this responsibility, yet I used to detest it. I’m winning trust and responsibility each and every day. The joy that comes with it proves it’s something I’ve intrinsically aspired for… trust. As a result I’ve worked loads of hours, encountered so many guests; all of different voices, appearances and temperaments. I’ve had to handle certain situations that tested wit and patience. I think I may have grown in confidence and eloquence. I’m also much better at timekeeping as a result, can you believe it? The downside is that I don’t get to chat with the family as often as I’d like to. It’s not great but at the same time I understand that they’re always there for me but I must also learn to do some things on my own.

Away from work I’ve been really looking at the relationships I’ve forged over the years. I remember reading somewhere that the friends you make at this stage in life will be friends for life. This makes me glad that I still chat with my good friends from high school. I’ve also recently learned to burn certain bridges. I must say it’s not an easy or pleasant thing to do but neither is cutting a tumour and though it sounds rough some people just shouldn’t be in your life. So I’ve said some goodbyes. I hope I’ve made the right decision.

I’ve met some new people lately. One or two interesting recent graduates. Arts and Sciences. I’m not going to lie, I haven’t enjoyed a conversation as much as the one I had with them in a long time, no offence bro. They just had different ideas and points of view. We discussed the purpose of a chair and how a chair should feel when our massive buttocks gracelessly plop on top of it.

I do hope you are well. I’ll fill you in with more details soon, I promise.

Yours forever,

Joe

Call Me Morgan Freeman

A memory just flashed across my mind accompanied by a tinge of nostalgia. Someone (I know not whom) used to call me Morgan Freeman presumably because of my voice… you know, as opposed to my looks (I’m only 21 after all). I cannot for the life of me recall who it was or when they said it but I genuinely miss the nickname for one reason or other.

Maybe I should stop watching all those “best-acting” compilations on YouTube. After all, Morgan Freeman is in a lot of those.

So… Phobia?

Phobias. They are irrational aren’t they? To this day I don’t know the causes and how it feels to have one. I guess they are only irrational from the outside and perfectly rational to the victim. Victim – yes that’s the word I have chosen, because that is how I viewed the person who revealed her phobia to me. I wish it was so of her own volition.

If you didn’t know already, I currently work in the escape game industry or whatever you want to call it. What does this mean? Well, I interact with people of all ages, backgrounds, interests etc. who have decided to spend an hour (sometimes more) escaping rooms by completing puzzles using team-work and intuition. Most people know what they are in for, whether it’s a dark cell or an asylum, you’ll be locked up until you escape. It’s normally a great experience, trust me, I check up on all my guests to see if they had a great time, but for every normal event there’s got to be an abnormal one to skew the trend. For me that occurred two nights ago.

I gave my introductory speech setting the eerie tone. It’s something I’ve worked on, honed and am even now still perfecting. At this point it’s probably too good because at the end of it I either receive nervous laughter or a mixture of puzzlement and terror. They never know whether to take it as a joke or be genuinely terrified so they end up with a good helping of both. On this particular occasion I did my routine, making sure to have equal measure of eye-contact with everyone as I usually do. I should have seen the signs then… but for some reason I didn’t. One of the ladies there made prolonged eye-contact with me. There was dread in those eyes which I mistook for humour… I know, I need to hang out with people more. We proceeded towards the cell.

I split them up then I locked them up. As soon as the door shut I knew I’d made a mistake.

“No! I can’t do this! I need to leave!” she wailed.

Haha. I’m used to the jokes at this stage. So I look up to maintain my menacing façade only to be met by a tear-eyed look of genuine terror.

“I can’t do this! He knows about this…Why?”

“He” referring to her boyfriend in the other cell. I stood there stunned. This had never happened before, not to my knowledge.

“Let me talk to her.”

There was the only voice of reason in the group of seven adults, myself included. Sense penetrated the shock and my brain finally kicked into gear. I let the man out to talk to his lady while I shut off all the magnets and effectively reset the game to let her out. It all took about 2 min. It must have felt like an eternity for the girl.

She was beyond embarrassed. They’d done this as a sort of surprise outing and had no knowledge of her claustrophobia, apparently only her boyfriend knew about it. It was a powerful thing too, as soon as the magnet activated, shutting them in, she wasn’t having it. Fear grasped her senses and squeezed every ounce of will out of her, like an anaconda fully wrapped round its prey the fear squeezed and squeezed until she couldn’t take it anymore.

So she sat out the game. I did the best I could to comfort her. She sat outside on one of our couches listening to music. Sometime later I brought her a cup of water and asked if she was ok while apologising for the fiasco. She said she was fine and reassured me letting me know I didn’t need to apologise. But I could see the damage this had caused. I’d glimpsed the looks of incredulity her unknowing “friends” had shot her. So I offered her a window by letting her know they’d progressed into a much larger room than she was currently sat in and I could let her join them now if she wished. She declined. The shame she’d acquired that night paled in comparison to the fear that harboured within: the phobia of confined space.