So it is a very good Monday morning, I am in a suit and I smell like a basket of roses. The finest of them all. I've got my hair combed, this is not normal for me. My hairline is behaving and I am wearing my "hey ya'll what's good?" typa smile, I am electrified! I am ready to take on this so called blue Monday and nothing can stop me. Everything I touch blows up like dynamite.
I made myself even more comfortable in the rotating chair, with my legs dangling half way to the floor. Haters gonna say I'm short, well I am not really short, everyone is just tall. So I pick my tasks and head off to the small cute kitchen in the office building. I smiled wide, I'm sure it was more of a really stupid grin when I saw the coffee machine. With my index finger, I pressed "ON" and holly molly the orgasmic feeling as its fans kicked in, that almost silent "bbbzzzzzz" as it carefully prepares the load of coffee beans to grind and churn the moment you press "COFFEE". Yaaayyy
So I headed back to my office which is just a few yards away from the kitchen, walking as if I am almost dancing across the hall way. My shoes making that "tap, tap" sound as I gentlemanly hop across the tiled floor. Trying hard not to slip. I arrived at my desk, searched it for my awesome coffee mug. And... it is not there. I thought, "Hmmm, perhaps I left it at the sink, let me go back to the kitchen", I often did that. So I head back to the kitchen, clicking my fingers and waving my arms, sending my suit in waves like a flag.
I got to the kitchen and screened it through my bifocal specs, there was no ways I was going to miss a thing in that small room. I saw the table cloths, I saw the glasses and cups, the stubborn spider on the wall, somehow it never dies even when we empty a doom can in that room, I swear that spider is immune to chemicals now. I searched once, twice, THRICE, FOURICE... Okay maybe fourice isn't a word. Point is, I searched for the FOURTH time and my coffee mug was nowhere to be found.
WHERE IS MY COFFEE MUG? Who would dare to take it in the first place? I made it clear the first day I got it that "YOU MAY TAKE ANYTHING, JUST NOT MY COFFEE MUG!!!!!"
My blood boiled, my face felt like ants walking on it as sweat started to form, my collars suddenly felt tighter around my neck and my lips started to tremble like I was playing a flute. I was on a 5 here, I could not afford to get to 10 but damn my coffee mug was gone. Just about three months after I got it, I never even dropped it, I never left it dirty, I never ever made it feel like it was not loved. But just like that, boom, it was no where to be found. GONE!!! But we all know the coffee mug can't grow tiny ceramic legs and walk away right?
Hol'up! Someone out there is having my coffee mug. Holding it hostage ready to use it. Probably not keeping it in a "cold and dry place" and I am here ready to chew coffee beans and gurgle hot water to make up for a missed cup of coffee? Naw man, it is not happening. I have to make the things that will even us up, possible.
I have to make sure that justice is delivered in this situation, if it means launching an operation "Find Pie's Coffee Mug", I shall do that! So first things first, I can't get coffee because someone out there cupnapped my coffee mug? Then no one at the office will have coffee. So I disconnected the coffee machine and pasted on it a note that read, "OUT OF ORDER"
I am sorry but when you take my coffee mug, you will just awaken my pettiness.
I walked back to my office with my head low, looking so broken, like a kid who just threw his last penny in the chocolate vendor machine, just to realize that the machine is switched off. I am hurt! After everything I have done to preserve that coffee mug, someone took it away from me.
I am getting a new coffee mug and this time, I am protecting it with my life. Touch it and get sniped! Pew pew, "Mayday mayday, we have a situation, the subject is seen heading for the kitchen with the absolutely fantastic coffee mug of Mr. PieMysterious, AKA Blue Short Pants, AKA Stef... get in formation!!
Much love ya'll, (Even for the Coffee Mug Thief). And My Aunt too.
About
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Monday, 11 July 2016
Friday, 8 July 2016
Hearts
I can not lose my identity in trying to identify with you.
But little does that knowledge grant freedom to this heart. You enslaved me with your unapologetic stare, my inner voice hushed by your silence, yet your loud presence echoed in the distance, like a scorching sun it burned my soul to ashes. Have you noticed the scars we bear? The marks for ages to come, I saw them daily, when the days got dark, I started to feel them with trembling fear that I would never know what you meant when you said, "You understand."
Maybe the symbols we left to mark our space in this wide universe would have helped locate our true identities, but the dust settled and all I could see was space. Where you used to be, the vast void that speech could not fill. I got to feel like the world hates us as much, even our own voices stopped to echo back to us, space took them in but denied us a place called home. We lived for tomorrows that we never really got to reach. The future painted in what made it through the dust. I celebrated my nature to not be able to walk away. Now I hate my then abilities to not see through the crystal clear surface, as we walked on thin ice, unknowingly treading on enchanted land.
Past ghosts of uncertainty, haunting us and driving us to our farthest extremes, bullying us into believing that our destinies were stretched by unmatched patterns. The light at the end of the tunnel was blinding, the morning stars lifting the dark curtains over the darkened nights. Speech with it, it took away more than a day could build.
I saw your image, but I did not know you.
Wait, time sealed the misfortunes, bottled it up and threw it down the river. The tide carrying it down to places we left for good, for all it takes we will never go back. stretching over for the pebble heap, skidding over the stream, hoping they make it to the banks. The vast space of "what ifs", the discomfort in thinking of the worst that could happen. But I still plunged down, risking what was left, for what you never even told me. Swam when I could, not that I wanted to be a hero, to rescue your apparent brokenness, no... I did so because you were strong enough to rescue me in case I drowned in my own sorrow.
All that just to be eclipsed by the happiness we never dreamt of. Hold my hand.
But little does that knowledge grant freedom to this heart. You enslaved me with your unapologetic stare, my inner voice hushed by your silence, yet your loud presence echoed in the distance, like a scorching sun it burned my soul to ashes. Have you noticed the scars we bear? The marks for ages to come, I saw them daily, when the days got dark, I started to feel them with trembling fear that I would never know what you meant when you said, "You understand."
Maybe the symbols we left to mark our space in this wide universe would have helped locate our true identities, but the dust settled and all I could see was space. Where you used to be, the vast void that speech could not fill. I got to feel like the world hates us as much, even our own voices stopped to echo back to us, space took them in but denied us a place called home. We lived for tomorrows that we never really got to reach. The future painted in what made it through the dust. I celebrated my nature to not be able to walk away. Now I hate my then abilities to not see through the crystal clear surface, as we walked on thin ice, unknowingly treading on enchanted land.
Past ghosts of uncertainty, haunting us and driving us to our farthest extremes, bullying us into believing that our destinies were stretched by unmatched patterns. The light at the end of the tunnel was blinding, the morning stars lifting the dark curtains over the darkened nights. Speech with it, it took away more than a day could build.
I saw your image, but I did not know you.
Wait, time sealed the misfortunes, bottled it up and threw it down the river. The tide carrying it down to places we left for good, for all it takes we will never go back. stretching over for the pebble heap, skidding over the stream, hoping they make it to the banks. The vast space of "what ifs", the discomfort in thinking of the worst that could happen. But I still plunged down, risking what was left, for what you never even told me. Swam when I could, not that I wanted to be a hero, to rescue your apparent brokenness, no... I did so because you were strong enough to rescue me in case I drowned in my own sorrow.
All that just to be eclipsed by the happiness we never dreamt of. Hold my hand.