An insight

So I decided I had finally had enough of 'A-Town', so I packed my bags, and moved on to live at Snake Park, my second home.  Its only about 20km outside town, but hey, its better than nothing.
While here, I took up a bar tending job, and I now enjoy the life of being a total lazy arse in the day time, and working for copious hours every time the sun goes down. I have to say, it's great fun. I can literally feel myself come alive as I prepare several multicoloured shooters at a time, or serving booze to the very thirsty overland tourists pouring in. I can honestly say I have never before ben as relaxed as I am now, I absolutely adore it here.

You do meet some interesting people, and enjoy a few hilarious laughing session with the truck crews and Ma, BJ and Deon (my second family). Last night I persuaded an aloof, but nice tourist to buy himself a neon green snake park t-shirt. Brilliant. Although he came back every 5 minutes claiming that the girls in his group were giving him grief over the traffic stopping colour I appointed him. Tough cookies dude, this girl knows what looks good.

Now, amongst other things, I still get the odd nostalgic feeling now and again, even though living here is like an unofficial 'new start' for me, the place is like a whole different world! I'm practically cut off from the trials and tribulations I so left behind me in Arusha town, so why, I wonder, do I still get these bloody odd bouts of longing? One answer. I am a female, and because of that anti-feminist answer I shall now shake my head in shame. Am I seriously this much a sad excuse of a woman, to still await messages and phone calls that will never come? Mind games... the downfall of womankind, that is, if they're as downtrodden as I to let it influence them.  Be gone with yeh, foolish boy, foolish, pitiful femine feelings. In a much better phrase; fuck off! Fuck off you miserable old sod and leave me be to enjoy my joys and enlightenment as a singleton.

The diaries of an old fogey shall return shortly, soon as the old fogey has decided to get off her lazy ass and actually get ahold of a pen and make magic,

Adieu, fair and patient readers. 

Diaries of an Old Fogy : Entry one

The streets are alive by buzzing Toyo motorcycles and honking vehicles swerving this way and that. In the midst of it all, stand solid buildings holding strong amid the scrambles of people running around like armies of ants, as the promise of a new day in the hubbub of Arusha town awakens.  Voted the 8^th worst city in the world by The Lonely Planet, ‘A-town’ is quite rich in culture, and street vendors.   The gateway to the famous national parks, it’s not usual to see swarms of tourists shuffling about the busy streets, enjoying the experience of a dusty, Tanzanian town.

She sees a bunch pass the window, gawking at a particularly colorful ‘shuka’ clad Masai man, cycling down the road in an excited frenzy.  The stream of smoke from her Marlboro light softly diffuses out into the open air, as she lifts the steaming cup of frothy coffee to her lips.  Ten years she’s lived in this town, yet, aside from a few industrial developments, it hasn’t seemed to have changed.  The same old cars, the same old air, same kinds of people, the same kind of timeless quality wafting in and out on a daily basis. 

Soft lilac petals fall down lightly upon her rich auburn head, as she heads out to her car.  She gazes up at the molting Jacaranda tree, magnificent in all its purple glory, bringing light to a change of season; October is nearly upon them.  With a sigh of indignation she climbs into her weathered old land rover.  A much loved vehicle, a series 2, this car did not take shit from anything; however much prone to getting a few hiccups now and again.

New Blog

Ok, so I decided to create a new blog solely based on this newest epiphany of mine to post diary type entries of the deprived sort. Visit it at http://diariesofwithdrawel.blogspot.com if you please. For now, I shall continue writing the usual random banter on this blog.

Impatience

How long has it been?

2...3...it feels like eternity.

Fizzing parts yearn for that touch

That burning need to erupt in ecstasy.

A kiss...really? Why not more

I know you want to tumble

So come on

Don't be such a selfish bore!

Sneak out, be daring, come out to play

I'll even give you the time of day.

That flaming intimacy

So close, so warm...

So salty, so wet...

So smooth, so hot...

So...oh, can you just get here already!

I'll touch you here

And you can tickle me there

I'll let you win

This time it's fair.

Please, oh please

Just please pay heed

My shivering flesh

Is in such dire need!

I can't contain it

It's in control

This overpowering desire...

Its fighting to play that role.

Don't tease me

Just please me

Let's play, hide and seek

I won't  even let you count the sheep.

Show me who's boss

Go on, take the fucking lead

Don't keep me waiting

I can barely stay on my fucking seat!

This anticipation is so strong

There's every need to be crude

One more day...

Fuck it, I am screwed.

22nd September 2011

.......And so, the anticipation deprivation issue starts! Stay tuned, you shall see a different stage of my frustrated deprived anticipation in each new post.

You

Ok, so the following post is one filled with a lot of emotion, and yes.. It is dedicated to one, or two people. Yes, I am being judgmental and a total bitch, I know this but I'm going ahead anyway and releasing this pent up rage *insert smiley face here*

Let's start off with a little bit of prose..

You are the one who has been pushing me away, you’re the one who’s been distancing yourself from me.  You’re the one who’s been weird, you are the one who read a few words in my diary... you are the one who immediately assumed something that is not true. You have been ditching me, you are the one who’s been lying, been dishonest, been deceitful.  You, yes you are the culprit. If I am the bad guy, for wanting to be happy, by hanging out with people who make me laugh, who don’t make me feel like the outsider intruding in on valuable space. If finding other means of keeping sane makes me the bad guy, then so be it. If I am the bad guy, then I’ll be the worst bad guy there is.

Now let's move on to a little poem...

Tears I will not shed

For your deceitful lies.

They fill me up with dread

Under withering skies.

Alas, we both were fooled

This thing, it is not real.

However we think it could,

We both know not what we feel.

I’ll gander through this wake unclaimed

As I ponder these insightful thoughts.

What a void, a blackened state

This viral trepidation, you have called.

 ....And now we're back to a bit of Prose!
You.. I do not even have the words to describe such characteristics.  The incognito side which hid all the obvious  deceits before my very eyes. Who are you, and why were you put on this earth, if your sole goal is to steal, lie, rape and pillage your way through people like they are worth nothing more than their physical appearances. I say you rape and pillage your way into your own delectable arsehole, and please, do stay there a while and  think about the way you've gone about this past year..if not I shall be forced to do it for you. You, you splitting image of the ultimate American prime time super diva. Now, fool me once.. shame on you! Fool me twice.. well, that pits all the shame unto me.. so here's an apology for being so pathetically fooled by your faked persona that I mislead you into thinking that I would be one of the other gormless followers on your heels wherever you go. For thinking that I'd be just another mindless zombie, doomed to follow its 'master' like the poor  piper's spellbound rats.

Salutations!

Now, please go on ahead and have a nice future, because there's no way... -cough cough..in hell- that I'm going to have any part in it. Just do me one favour, when you decide to recruit some other poor soul, be sure to carry a warning.

Macabre

It's hard, when you get hit with a shock realization.  When something hits so close to home that you really just, don't know how to react, you're so lost for words that only you're choking sobs fill the silence. You feel as if you're trapped between worlds, not sure which direction to take. You've never felt so alone.
As you walk down that silent road, you contemplate the future, and how you will conquer it by yourself.  You ponder those you thought you had, and grieve when you think about how much you had given.  You feel like a freak, unappreciated, mental. You wish you could be the first priority, that for once, you could be the world to someone. You wish you weren't so alone.
Your head swimming in an void of lost dreams, a current of insanity.  You try to keep grounded, while you're feet feel like taking off into space.  Nothing seems to distract you, nothing but your mind, can occupy you.  Music..moving images.. text... for once, it all seems so worthless. You welcome emptiness... anything, just not to feel so fucked up anymore.  Lost in a pit of self despair, you sit and rot, while you try to heal enough to pull yourself out of this darkened well.
Suddenly, you feel so old, your youth gone down the drain, ceasing to return.  Yet, you feel like a little child, a hopeless puppy, so vulnerable, caught up in the sharp jaws of harsh reality.  You wonder, if you'll ever be happy again,

Wonderings

Finally holidays... well, can't really call them holidays if you're supposed to spend them revising. This sucks. At least we're nearly done with this whole school thing ... yay. Three days left to finish my art before It's sent off to England, oh my.. hope I can get this finished!

     My dear friend Jack's visiting next weekend... can't wait! Now just have to sort out the dilemma of where he's gonna stay.. since he's only allowed to stay at my house for two nights.. blah. Can't believe he's actually visiting though, it seems surreal.

     Arusha, Arusha, Arusha. You're such a small town, yet why do u bring so much drama? Is it because everyone's cooped up for so long that they have no reason but to take it out on each other? Beats me, all I know is drama... this form of it anyways.. is rather annoying. Get over yourselves people. Just because she said that he said that she said she doesn't like that guy's pantyhouse, doesn't mean your life is gonna end.

     The sun is shining so brightly through this study window... about 6 pm now, can't believe these days go by so fast. It makes me think... Life is like an apple tree, each day is like an apple. Juicy and tempting, you take a bite at a time, and you relish the taste of each. Then you discard it onto a pile of yesterday's waste, wondering when it had disappeared.
    
     Rising at practically the crack of dawn tomorrow, to go to school (gosh, how lame is that) and finish my darned art. Don't get me wrong.. I love art, but it can be a bit of a drag when you're pressured.

    So... I guess I shall now go and conspire a few different ways to torture my sister, who has succeeded in being a major pain in the rear today.
Cheerio

Age... it really is just a number

Ok, so I know that all of us have gone through life where we have been faced at least 3... or 4 hundred times with various accusations concerning our age.

Firstly, I shall delve into the topic of sibling rivalry, and venture into the yet unexplored perspective many of us overlook... whether done purposefully, or accidentally... I do not know, I'm afraid I cannot magically guess the levels of intelligence each person out there has...I mean, I wish I was Moses.. but alas, I am not, so lets just assume everyone 'unknowingly' overlooks it.  Anyhow, back to the matter of utmost importance, there is the rather annoying nagging by our parents when we are arguing with our siblings or fighting for the remote control because, we really don't want to watch that latest rerun of Barney the purple dinosaur - I'm saying this to those guilty of this obviously unfair criticism- maybe we like acting the way we do, have you ever thought about that? 

You see, you can't exactly accuse us of not acting our age, some of us go through the traumatizing ordeal of growing up, and with it calls ardous tasks of responsibility, and I'm sure you'll agree, it is a pain in the ass. So... acting a bit childish now and again sorta lets us cherish our youth, it lets us savour those moments of triumph when we win, and laugh at the inferior sibling who had just foolishly lost the prized remote to us. Maybe...we daydream about having mud fights and building houses for frogs, and laughing our socks off every time someone farts. We all want to be a child again really.... go on, admit it.

Lastly, age is, at the end of the day.. just a number. Shocking! Isn't it? I mean... how can you determine one's age...really? How old are you? I bet you're wrong....I reckon people think they're older than they are, or younger...in some cases.  Ok, so maturity is of some importance some of the time, but not all the time. Dude, you've got to relax and grab life by the balls sometimes, you can't be a tight arse all your life, go on... have some fun! It won't hurt.... much. Just kidding... you never know, letting loose and going wild for just one night could be just the right dose of ecstacy that you need to wake up!  Right, I am hoping that this has made sense in some case... and is not just a bunch of jibber jabber as I fear. Well, if it is... I suppose you've just wasted about..1..4..6? minutes of your life! 

Har har har...and that reminds me, what's my age again?

Beginnings

Well, looks like I've decided to open a new blog.. exciting! I'm Inez, 18 years old, live in a town called Arusha in a little country named Tanzania.  I love rock music, movies, food, chocolate and anything which happens to hold my interest at the time. Ok, so what to expect from this... since I'm not the most normal person, you can definitely await some very random and (hopefully) interesting posts.. enjoy!