woman scorned

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned….” I think I should google the person who said this but am to engrossed in writing this. So I’ll acknowledge that person in their absence.  

Anyhow, I have been told every woman gets scorned at some point in their life time and bitterness the end result.( Hey you, it was not my mother who gave me that crappy advice. I wonder why guys think our mothers are responsible for all the bad advice around!)

But the thing is that statement is not new to me and gives a whole meaning to some of my experiences. For instance, I have awoken happy and lain in tears. Scorn the cause.

I have been in love and forced out of it. And now when I talk, I’ve been mistaken to have that hell bent fury. But I tell the world today that it’s all a pinch of reality… nothing more nothing less.

I left the fury behind the day I put down that phone. The day I dialed my girls and cried, the day the wolf pack came together to hear me bitch, rant and reward me with hugs. There I said it, my fine fury field day.

And yes… I am a woman scorned but fury that I have not. Oh no, don’t be fooled I have had my moment or was it moments? But am afraid it never lasts. The claws of bitterness slowly slip away, all that remains is regret then slowly, “stupid girl” is all I keep hearing in this brain. Then walah … Michael who? You mean the dude I used to go out with? I think he died… no you mean he still lives…lol

Naah I don’t (uncontrollable giggles over here)

So anyhow, that fury that makes you want to burn his clothes or better still tell Kayihura read( the Inspector General of police) your ex was last seen consorting with the LRA Rebels or do you tell Nyakeirima ( UPDF Army something). I don’t exactly know how the whistle blowing procedure works.

But I have glad tidings; I got the antidote to this hell bent fury of we scorned women.  Yap, am a woman above these base feelings. And no it’s not with the comfort of chocolate, wine or any comfort foods. But this surely helps.

So here it is: I cry and cry and cry… then my eyes get all blotchy and my heart well my heart…I can’t say exactly but it still beating. And on the fourth day I just snap out of it. Get my pen, vent it all out and then deliver the note to the nearest fire. I also give out those ‘precious gifts/belongings’ or not … I wonder what became of them?

I bitched about it for a day until I got tired of it and turned to my pad to  write it off.  That’s because am the greater woman here and he the lesser fool.

                                                Love me

                                          Joyce Ikonye

Opinions of truth

Ever heard the saying, “the quiet scares me because it tells the truth”? I have but I don’t know who said that either.

But what is the truth? And am not the only one asking this question. Pilate in John 19: 38 ( Good news Bible) asked the same. So what is it anyway? Could it be facts, reality, voices or an interpretation of them all?

And what is the quiet?

Have you ever been in a room full of people talking and not hear the noise? And all that screams out aloud is the silence of the room because of your thoughts; walking around like a zombie and no one notices!

Most people are blind you know, not just physically blind but just plain oblivious to other people’s auras, call it emotion, strange behavior or change in spirit.

This truth that hits us in the quiet, that scares us, doesn’t it sound like a negative truth? Think about it! I mean if the truth was a baby on the way, would it scare you? Yes, no… ?  That’s only if you think the timing is wrong, the consequences grave. And if it didn’t scare you would that not be a truth?

What if this truth were a disease… say cancer, no, no say HIV that would be horrible. I mean the stigma! Oh yeah, that still exists. Even you who thinks you’re holier than though will take a moment.  That one pause…You’re not Jesus buster, you’re human. And that’s the truth or maybe my opinion.

Now, say the truth was a billion bucks lottery win. This truth only scares the paranoid or something… over here I would be arms stretched, knees on the ground screaming, “Bring it on” repeatedly. What about if the truth is … I am for the great I AM? If you didn’t know am talking about its God, just making sure you know this truth.

Would that scare you? I don’t know about you but me, I was astonished beyond belief.

So this thing called the ‘ truth’ when is it really the truth, is it when it’s a fact, a reality or something with consequences that are presumed unacceptable?

And the quiet, what’s so scary about it? Is it the quiet or you your scared of? Maybe its people’s opinions making you jittery. What if these are mind games, our insecurities that we cannot escape from? What is indeed the truth? Do you know the truth or is it opinions making sense?

Over here my God’s opinion is all that matters and that’s my truth. What’s your truth?  And since I don’t profess to know yours, that is your God, I don’t know your truth.  So when you give your opinion on a truth make sure the recipient was waiting for your OK. And that the quiet does not scare you.

           Always Orogot Pamela

 

Mateos blurs 2

I love all these sayings about trouble, except am not good at taking my meds.  This stuff is not exactly the ying to my yang so move over advice. And this particular night I actually gave trouble a seat.  I was taking all that trouble advice and flinging it outside the window.

Anyhow, I turned to my reflection in the Mateo’s ladies room, thought for a moment and then asked the question; “ Ayaso why are you hiding in a bathroom, coward?”  No reply from the Ayaso in the mirror just puzzled blinking eyes.

So I patted my lovely cornrows put on my diva gear and matched out to face the ‘devil’.

Behold … the clique had not only invited the’ devil’ in, they had given the gold prince a seat and boy was the ‘fuel’ read (Smirnoff) flowing in.

 The interrogations were on.  And like some sort of banshee this friend of mine, Ngel was asking questions such as, “So where do you work?”  Not to forget his identity card was being passed around the group like some sort of ceremonial cup.

All heads almost knocking as they paid close attention, my empty seat conveniently left next to him. Anger, betrayal and diva rage was blinding me. But just like a finger had been snapped all my anger and feelings of betrayal never saw the next five seconds when he opened his mouth to reply.

This time trouble became chocolate. I did not only just serve it to him on a silver platter accompanied by a bag of fries,  my feet found their way to the empty chair and my backside gave itself a seat and joined in the head knocking attention.

My mother’s nightmare had just began full on. His voice OMG ( in screaming capitals). This fish had just been caught and was mesmerized straight to the pan; oil, onions, tomatoes and soy sauce.

Except my other girls purse mysteriously disappeared!

                                                Always P. Ayaso

 

Nakedness

We all wear masks. To hide the biases that impact us as we grow.
From the time we grow out of infancy we are taught to conceal our feelings, cover up our fears and hatreds. But when stressed our masks fall off and our naked faces are revealed.

This i have learnt from reading books, associating and especially watching people that these masks manifest in different ways. Being quiet has its pecks... you get to watch people in the comfort of your silent corner.

So these faces i have learnt manifest not only in the way we speak, dress or approach people but also in the way we live or try to. In our associations and relationships. But the mask i love to watch the most is that of our relationships.

Yes we relate in every way, with others and most important with ourselves. Yeah with animals and with the enviroment too. This is the mask greatly impacted by the norms we learn as a child and the hardest to break.
Have you, if i may be so intrusive as to ask ever watched a person relate with themselves?
Or thought about how you relate with yourself? No, Yes? It does not matter you still relate either way.

Anyhow, have you ever wondered why you act the way you do? Have you ever watched your parents closely in the way they relate? Because its rare that your not a chip off the old block. And those saying they have no parents surely you have a parent  figure, a mentor, these people are always around us and we are shaped by their beliefs, affected by their actions or non actions whichever is the strongest of the two.

Ever heard the saying, " i was not raised that way" complicated phrase but also very serious. Ok lets try this one, "my family won't approve " or " my parents must never know" what about " if only my mother could see me now, she would faint."
Don't deny it you've said these words at one time, but alls good they don't bite they just affirm our masks.

Talk about relating with ourselves, ever wonder why MSM and WSW read (men who sleep with men and women who sleep with women) came up with the phrase coming out of the closet? In my opinion, all pretentious people who have beliefs too firmly beat into them as children have closets to bury their skeletons.

Ever heard the phrase, " show me a perfect family and i will show you a closet full of skeletons" ? We all have dirty laundry and if these masks are not adjusted to fit changes you experience, things you see, mistakes made or new beliefs ... We either break emotionally from the strain or commit murder ask Thomas something aka " Tonku" whatever his masks  or the size of his closet  the belief is his mask fell off and revealed his nakedness.

I wear a mask sometimes, you also do but what happens when the cover of society cannot shield you anymore? Can you still have your indiviualilty and am not talking about your personality. Those are usually cemented by what people think about you.
The question is, do you know who you really are? When and if you associate with yourself or other people can you stand alone without always being dogmatic. You may think you are not dogmatic ... but are you or you not ? Thats the question.

    Always Orogot Pamela

Mateos blurs

A woman only rans when she knows she will be chased. A statement that sounds smug but has the stench of truth all over it.
This particular night with a clique of buddies we hit mateos like roaches in an abandoned building. That night was a chaotic blur.

My friends got into a fight over a touch or was it a ' physical pass' , beats me. The call we awaited to settle us with a constant supply of ' fuel'ended as just that a conversation.
The recepient had been informed of the number of clique and realising his cover policy was limited only made himself available on phone.

But the chase started when we decided to leave mateos. The bouncer pronounced himself  our table finder and proceeded to do so.
I didn't even have my red high heels on so why was he acting like a fly attracted to a lamp?

oh yah... someone was chasing.

The man they pointed at had my mother's nightmare written all over him. He was tall ( such a blessing), ebony and wore a gold chain- wait a gold chain.
That was sudanesse written all over him.

My mind came to a screeching halt. This is the part where i would fall at my mother's feet, arm raised tears flowing pleading for another prince without evidence of gold.

No thats not what happened. I instead turned to the bouncer who was trying to convince me how good his friend is and asked him, " So how long have you known this friend?'
Giggling and proceeding to carrya table for our clique to sit, who by the way sat gladly, i flee.

Flee i did, but not to the exit, no my feet found their way to the mateos ladies room. Who would have thought.

P. Ayaso