A Day Like No Other

I have a bank of unpublished posts. I censor myself. Because sometimes what I feel so strongly today would feel so petty the next. I don’t mind it though. When I keel over someone can use the posts I have so far and call it ‘the Life and Loves of an Urbansinner’ or something like that. And when it becomes a bestseller (of which I have no doubt…) they can then publish a follow up book consisting of my never seen before posts and call it something like ‘The Unspoken words of an Urbansinner’. Think of the marketing angle, think of the publicity. Maybe I will also get to look down from heaven or more likely above from hell and bask in the attention. Mental note: must remember to put password in will.

I haven’t written for awhile because I was speechless. Utterly and devastatingly so. Somehow words which were once so therapeutic filled me with great distaste. The idea of addressing my life in some form or another seems banal considering the circumstances. Seems so ordinary for someone who seek only the extraordinary in a world that has become so contrived.

So instead I travelled. I walked miles and miles to get where I started and the tiredness somehow cleansed me. Every aching muscle was a testament of each slight and each hurt. And when they healed with rest and care, all they represent ebbed away too.

I opened my world to those that matter and closed it to those that did not know the difference. In between, something so sacred was left to rot so publicly. Incredulity begets anger begets laughter begets indifference.

And I sang. Loudly and proudly even though my tone did not compare to those more extraordinaire, I sang anyway. I sang with Lady Gaga and she was kind enough to keep her comments to herself.

And I listened. To the ticking clock which somehow has found its life again. To the chirping birds that are incessantly crazy in their twittering and not unlike their cyber counterpart. To the wisdom of collective souls who were sweet enough to offer me their time and more importantly their judgment.

I can quote you many of those who have written verses which are more apt and more stunning than my words can ever hope to be. But even if I have no hesitation in seeking refuge in their candour from time to time, this time it is only right that it is my voice and thoughts which prevail. Even if no one would understand them but me.