Afrosays to me

…random excerpts from my communions with the AfroMuse

Old Tom’s words April 19, 2012

Filed under: Scenic — afrosays @ 7:01 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

The seasons come and go and leave remnants of us.
AfroSays,

 

OLD TOM’S WORDS

 

... it's all gone too soon ...

 

I never took the walk back home alone.

 

Even from the first day I started mixing drinks at Tom’s, he would leave the night’s accounting to escort me.

 

Actually, it wasn’t inconvenient for him because I stayed only two short streets away from the bar; I guess that it really was therapeutic, for good old Tom never said much as we dragged our tired feet along – mine tired from tending his garden of bottles for the quarter of a day and his from welcoming all comers with a handshake and a fatherly inquiry into their affairs. Tom genuinely cared about us all. It seemed that this nightly walk of ours was a form of catharsis for him because he always kept the burdens of the small town on his mind. He’d walk by my side with his head bowed, and shoulders mellow, smiling and humming an old tune I would never recognize. The same tune every night.

 

We would avoid shallow puddles on those cold evenings and walk like father and daughter. Once or twice, he had told me about the wild days of his youth, how he met Janet, of whom he was widower-ed three years ago, how they had never had children, how life had passed so quickly. “Titi” he’d say, “It’s all gone too soon.” I would smile and squeeze his hand and he would laugh a weak one.

 

I only worked at Tom’s through the fall of 1996. I think I stopped mid winter because my degree eventually earned me a better paying job. most of that year remains a Gaussian blur to me but I’d never forget old Tom’s words.

 

I was twenty three years old, January the following year. I remember because that was the year I fell in love. The fall did not last too long and I landed on the cold hard floor; in my moments of bitter tears I remembered old Tom’s words.

 

Life skipped along and happy times found me and abandoned when I began to feel entitled. The pains of sorrow would eclipse the bright times and just when my breaking point was near, the sun would shine again. Friendships came and went just like love did, until I eventually found a lovely friendship. I am widowed of Joe now, a heart condition tore him away from my hold. Too soon.

 

My parents decided to get a divorce last year because they both decided that it would be more peaceful to die alone; they both still hope that I’d take a side. I’m too old to care.

 

I had my life planned in the beginning and I haven’t done bad for myself. I am not where I planned but I am in a beautiful place, beautiful because I choose to see all the good things around me. Although, I can afford a lot of the simple things I want but I don’t enjoy them as much as I thought I would, except maybe when it’s a new experience like my first full body massage at the inexplicably expensive Shirley Buddha.

 

I’m turning forty soon and I still have half a full life to live and to enjoy as much as I can. Sometimes I think back to those walks with old Tom and his hollow laugh brings a smile to my face. He darn sure was right, it’s all gone too soon.

 

So why not enjoy it while it lasts?

 

 

 

Shadow Tail October 18, 2011

Filed under: The Trench — afrosays @ 3:29 pm
Tags: , , ,

Ahoy!

This is the dawn of another night.
The night has long been abused, they call it a time of sorrow, a time of gnashing of teeth; they say the sun cometh in the morning…
May the sun never come!
I am of lunar soul, trenchant knucklehead, me. I love the night! All my neighbours, they have been eaten by the monster they call home and in the belly of the beast, they are silenced, even if for a while.
I am outside tonight. Shirt off!
The streets are clean. The air is clean. The internet is clean. More importantly, the dimension we call Thought Express, it is clean. Brain traffic is at a minimum and we need the scarce bandwidth to be who we are.
I stretch. I launch myself on the comet, ShadowTail, and we project.
Who am I?
Who are we?
Did you ever see a beam of joy, like a pulse, like the shadow of a comet, race down your streets three a.m. in the morning?
Slow down that vision.
Did you ever imagine that what you saw was a half-naked child with a head full of black fibers running down the road, his hands behind his back, holding a pulsing ball of brilliance? Did he have the most rapturous smile on his face? You dismissed that thought didn’t you?
I’d be around where you are if it is somewhere to be around. I’d be seeking that quintessential, picking up coins like dear Nintendo’s Mr Mario, leaping into the air for gold rings like Sega’s Mr. Sonic; If I ever crash, I’d be sure to remember that this existence is no PlayStation. I run parallel to what I aim to discover, it’s close but it’s perpetually inaccessible. I keep running however, hoping that these parallel lines cross at some point in the future and then the big ‘why?’ becomes an ‘oh really?’
One day I’d cover most of the world but I know I’d never cover all of it for these medals I pick up along the way, they weigh me down; these gold medals, they are excerpts of worldly wisdom. With each new coin or ring that I put in my purse, I lose some grab on the comet I ride on.
Pretty soon I might be walking on the road like those few old people I see on the sidewalks. They don’t look extremely happy but they seem content. Maybe I’d have enough coins and rings to buy me common sense, and my breakneck travel on Thought Express would be abandoned. Maybe some other kid, maybe my kid would hop on that comet and try to discover why the world is the way it is. Maybe I’d be the one telling him to take the world as it is, tempting him with a meager bag of coins.
I doubt it!
Why? ShadowTail and I are not the only ones that travel these parallel lines. If you’ve read this far with a smile on your face, the kind that betrays recognition, you’re with me, and company, even your company, makes even the most arduous journey sufferable.
Give PinkBeam a caress, or is he DarkWave? BlackBolt? WhiteFire? RedSpark? Is she PurpleStream? IndigoSea? ‘ColeurWing?
Count your coins, your rings, and let there be a chorus of cling-clangs in this fresh night air as we throw away the faulty wisdom we have discovered. Keep the trusty gold medals, you might eventually find enough to retire.
Hold your comet, your catalyst, your propellant with arms outstretched behind you.
Ahoy! Launch and run free!
And don’t forget to take your shirt off if you feel like it.
 

Emoticons August 19, 2010

Filed under: Abstract — afrosays @ 5:14 pm
Tags: , , , ,

She’s in her #JustSaying mode.

I’m in my #JustBeatingTheGong mode because, AfroSays:

EMOTICONS

Emoticons

Emoticons

Have you ever been in a chat session with a simultaneous video feed from your chat mate? I’m simply asking if you’ve ever used a webcam while text chatting all at once.
Did your chat mate actually laugh out loud when they typed LOL?
Did that person actually roll on the floor when they typed ROTF?
Was that person close to death when they typed LWKMD?
Did they even smile when 🙂 showed up on the screen?
Guess not!
They were only responding to your contributions to the interaction session as socially appropriate; they were only employing emoticons.
Life is a chat session; our indifferent minds type and our bodies interface in concordance with the expectations of civilization. We’re always using emoticons.
Smiley anyone?

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