My Voice In Words

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  • A crude disturbing clarity.

    I am here sitting by myself and just baffled as to what am just deducing from a situation that’s left me agape,

    speechless,

    dumbfounded,

    beyond surprisingly shocked,

    shaken to my core, and

    painfully flabbergasted beyond measure.

    I firstly heard from my roommate that my supervisor, who also happens to be the area/site manager, told her am at work–

    meaning actively working within a location,

    oh, and that am “just awaiting the results of her medical exam”,

    the said medical exam i just did the previous day and before that av been not actively working in any location nor site,

    but she threw about a location’s name which my roommate dint get that, thats my permanent location,

    and am just awaiting the 2 days medical results so i can resume and continue the said location’s work.

    I just laughed and brushed it off as a statement one makes to get one off their hair,

    like nah!

    “she’s just joking for real, we both know am out here without a location”,

    but

    like, “why’d she say that, when obviously am here, never stepped foot in any location to work?”

    ” hahaha”,

    “that’s my ghost been working?”

    “or this is my ghost here not working?”

    That laughter came to haunt me

    the very next day

    when another supervisor told me, the same supervisor had told him that am actively working,

    since he’d confirmed from me first that indeed am not deployed, and in need of a location,

    and when he followed protocol to ask about my working status and inform her he will be adding me to a site,

    she enthusiastically, vehemently and excitedly insisted that am deployed actively.

    This is where i kind of was splashed with ice water on my face, and awakened to a bitter clarity,

    and unbelievable numbness settled in as to what exactly i was up against,

    the realization that this has crossed any polite normal acceptable explanations,

    to an odd, vicious, malicious intent,

    and the cold cold “why”.

    The hot anger and aggrieved aggression i felt stabbed my heart through and stayed lodged, burning with inflamed intensity.

    The lying lady spinning lies about my work status is in cahoot with her sister in the same, albeit slightly different position

    and both backed each other up, in affirming the same thing line by line.

    The betrayal stung and boiled to an all time intensity.

    I was hurt beyond measure,

    gravely insulted by the sheer confidence with which they could blatantly decide to say such untruths without batting an eyelid in the face of something so serious as my livelihood.

    what’s the gain from this?

    what do they stand to gain from me not being employed?

    why would they lie like that?

    what wrong did i ever do to deserve such treatment?

    is it that am too trusting, meek, obedient, non confrontational?

    Because i trusted her completely when she told me she had my best interests at heart,

    i trusted naively like an ignorant inexperienced baby, when she assured us of a location very soon

    and that we just needed to be a little more patient.

    I practiced calm patience and empathized with the worries she had to undergo for our sake, to gain our assured placement in a location as soon as possible.

    I just assumed, “well she’s planning all she is and when the time is right, she sure will place us where we deserve rightly”.

    Not knowing i was trusting a dangerous poisonous snake,

    a back stabber,

    a dagger holder

    who had completely no regard about my well-being and couldn’t care less about my financial situation.

    She couldn’t be bothered at all that am hurting and it’s costing me immense mental torture due to the situation at hand of my joblessness.

    She actually laughed and smiled behind my back, jubilating and finding joy out of my discomfort and helpless situation.

    She went around brazenly spreading lies and rumours and filling the minds and hearts of others with discord about my situation,

    my enemy of progress in every sense of the word,

    making it seem like i could be the one lying about my condition while she put a stopper on my breakthrough and discouraged all avenues of help steered towards me.

    Any helping hand spread towards me she thwarted with lies,

    all efforts to alleviate my misery was met with her and her wicked sister blocking access.

    What pains me immeasurably is that the supervisor who alerted me to this case,

    of me sleeping with a snake and cohabiting with the strangler of my progress, snuffer of my dreams,

    is that,

    i had been offered an immediate placement, but that, she had categorically and dismissively informed him that no,

    there wasn’t a need,

    a need for me to have a location

    and went ahead to affirm that yes i am actively engaged in a location!

    What kind of wicked, nasty, devilishness and witchcraft is that!

    Apart from that,

    the two evil sisters tried to recruit the security around here to back up their lie,

    luckily she let the cat out of the box without the two musketeers having yet corrupted her mind with falsehoods attached to my name.

    Am just floored by all this episode and left reeling with unbelief,

    like seriously why would one do that to another human?

    just why?

    Am her junior, actually very junior to her, it’s not like we are fighting for a position or am gonna usurp her position or even threaten her leadership in any way,

    but it seems someone is hell bent on keeping me in need, needy, dependent on her crumbs that aren’t materializing anyways and expecting, actually banking on my ignorance and naivety to continue telling me to bury my head in the sand.

    It’s a harsh wake up call for me,

    to be faced with this like a flood of light in my easily gullible, impressionable, believing idiotic self.

    I will now take charge of my life,

    escalate this issue as far and wide as possible and then find an exit from here,

    i actually wanted an exit but with a half heart, not realizing my indecisive holding back will cost me immeasurable, disquieting, searing pains,

    now am all in and will stop at nothing to get what i need,

    the sting is just fresh,

    yesterday’s betrayal that throbs, pulsating with every breath as a reminder.

    I have learned my bitter lesson of trusting easily and banking all my hopes with someone, who has unbelievably selfish personal reasons, who’ll stop at nothing to run me over and bury me alive.

    A jealous individual is her sister, a self-proclaimed camp boss with nothing to gain but a satisfaction of seeing me in need and undergoing suffering,

    who delights to always point out my joblessness and make it a mockery and good story telling content,

    using my perceived idleness as a vantage point to order me around into doing her silly biddings and inform those not in the know about my misery,

    to compound my feeling of helpless hopelessness,

    to shame me by bringing on onlookers who’ll side with her and marvel at my desperateness,

    making my enemies jubilate

    playing into making me feel worthless, pathetic, broken, weird, odd, cursed, incompatible, a loser,

    exalting in pointing out my lack, as a reason at least to be a maid of others and to jump when she coughs and snap to attention whenever our paths crossed,

    looking perpetually miserable and dejected so she can have a party and a good night’s sleep.

    All i did was believe, see what it has cost me,

    i just wanted so bad to be agreeable and understanding while “she worked and smoothed out everything to my advantage”,

    how silly i was.

    I usually never want to ruffle feathers, nor cause ripples but now i better cause storms and rattle bricks because someone has no inhibition towards lying on my name and blocking future positive prospectives from reaching me,

    they’re content

    their positions are secured while am left to rot in the unmarked grave of false assumptions fed as truths to all who could have lit a candle on my path.

    It’s so wickedly vicious!

    so despicably disgusting!

    Am so annoyed

    am so mad, its burning away my sleep and peace, the thoughts rushing through my mind and the sting of disbelief still ringing loud in my ears is hard to ignore.

    Indeed being nice is a cliche -the best people died a sad death like me and were never mentioned nor remembered as meekness and obedience was never really an asset but a playground of emotions orchestrated to keep one in an ignorant box, stifling and snuffing out dreams and hopes and building lies on top of them.

    Its by chance luck am now informed, otherwise i’d be happily existing in my happy bubble of hopes that were never really gonna materialize,

    a cocoon of made belief.

    And i should also take the blame for some of the misfortune as i was never persistently nor occasionally inquisitive, only banking on contented belief and assured hopes, viewing confrontation as aggressive and questioning as impatience.

    I should have actively asserted myself as very serious and aware about an inkling of her untoward uncaring attitude or the negative results of the so called unmaterialized project that seemed to just drag on and on for no apparent reason, surfacing with unmet requirements that just ate up time, with no follow ups.

    It’s also a good reason they banked on my don’t care attitude of not nagging nor following up, as very meek and an agreeable nondramatic person who is just lying there while they walked all over me, with lies already painted about and over me.

    I literally gave them permission and a go ahead to keep treating me with impunity while i called it being patient and not wanting to seem impatient,

    misunderstanding or

    disagreeeable.

    My “good” self has cost me and its time i just decide to be ruthlessly crude, take the bull by the horns and just cause any hell i can muster and if i burn down the room while in it so be it.

    Am also justifiably angry with myself, and should face consequences for bringing this upon me

    i don’t believe in my life av felt such betrayal at such a personalized level

    that a trusted supervisor together with her assistant will join hands in such a wicked pact,

    making an alliance to smear lies with my name and confidently lie about a sensitive situation like this and insist on the lie being the truth while i’d been so blind folded without a hint towards their wicked hearts and minds, without a bother to my well-being and future or impact it’d have on me.

    Am reeling from the realization that you really can never know people and their true intentions, they might seem cordial or helpful but they don’t ever want to see your progress, and any helpful ladder lowered towards you they’ll easily break it, divert its direction and say you are ok while they already dug your grave and are shoveling sand on top of your live self.

    Then what even unsettles me is the fact that my roommate just came from vacation two days ago, the very same supervisors who claim scarcity of locations already reached out to her and gave her a location, while am passed over, left here seating in expectation just like that.

    may God be my witness and avenger.

  • Frazzled for a life of hyperactive activities.

    I used to be that person who’d run themselves to the ground,

    just by my way of life,

    and not think twice about it as strange or out of order,

    because i’d committed myself to this kind of life,

    laid aside my comforts and respite on my soul,

    i celebrated the harder and tougher it got,

    i felt accomplished- like finally my life and purpose had meaning or i had revealed a revelation toward’s my life’s existence,

    what it was,

    was actually just a skeleton fleshed out that was moving dirt around in the big, great ecosystem of things that really made no difference,

    and yet i thought i’d found the key to unlocking the good and great that made up my existence.

    I don’t know what kind of idiocy high i was on, maybe am still riding that high and i fear i’d die without really being awake or living.

    Am in a dream while others are actually awake and living,

    when you come across this article please tap me awake,

    no, i mean shake me vigorously awake please,

    because this is self sabotage of the highest degree ever known to mankind.

    I used to walk fast

    very fast

    like really fast

    u’d be forgiven to think the world was on fire and i was the only firefighter alive who knows how to just put it out,

    then,

    i’d applaud myself that am on a rush to solve a major occurrence,

    well, because to me that was a real emergency,

    that’s all i did anyways the whole day,this was my centre of existence,

    in my warped brain,

    because the rush was geared towards a certain point and goal,

    well let’s just say i was obsessed and overly excitedly sick with zealous, unhealthy zeal,

    because saying otherwise won’t justify my silly behavior, as now i term it while looking back,

    It was a pathetic stupid existence that was cocooned and bottlenecked in a vice chocking grip of socio environmental circumstances well contributed, applauded, driven, expected, honed, fanned, expected, ruthlessly trained and demanded by a demented manager.

    I used to work like a frenzied maniac,

    who was always behind on everything, even breathing i used to breath fast because the last breath was late and i had to catch up with the next one and make up with the one following closely behind.

    Suffice to say i was just a miserable little ball of energy,

    grinding hard to the ground my own self.

    My heart would beat erratically in anticipation of a mess or what i was supposed to accomplish,

    i knew no calm peaceful moment,

    everything was supposed to be done and in ship shape the moment my feet hit the floor in the morning,

    everything seemed to clamor for my attention and i felt the irresistible magnetic pull to actually fix all at once,

    my mind was scattered to the various scenarios that i was to have been there already and done some damage control.

    If i dint act on the skittering thoughts the guilt that’d eat me up and disturb my conscious was uncomfortable and difficult to live with,

    so i found myself actually dividing myself like an octopus and spread as thin as impossibly realistic,

    i don’t know how i did it,

    but i did manage to very well just dash about like a firefly with a magic wand,

    but remember the said firefly was a breathing living human with 2 arms and legs, functioning and operating outside the accepted norms of actual normalness.

    I was just rushing through daily activities like my world was on literal flames,

    i rushed about like the weight of the world was pressing down on me,

    my shoulders at a perpetual slump,

    back hunched,

    eyes darting about looking to fix the displaced, misplaced, acceptable orderliness of things,

    because i felt indebted to right all the wrongs that were happening at that particular time.

    If you’d have seen me you’d have been moved with pity for what i was supposed to accomplish and the much that awaited me,

    the magnitude of what i’d willingly, voluntarily decided to shoulder.

    My footsteps were short, brisk, hurried,

    and sometimes occassionally i found myself happily running like not the once in a while jogging,

    no!

    a full-on sprinting towards whatever i was going to do!

    this is the height of being cursed,

    a self curse or bewitchment.

    And this happened in my late thirties,

    a full-grown woman behaving like an excited coming of age teen!

    it’s cringy and almost unbelievable to recall,

    makes me fall out of favor with my mental state at that time all over again.

    I think the best solution will be to go get evaluated by a psychiatrist,

    that’d definitely put myself into a firm bunch and label

    maybe diagnose me with a term to put me at ease,

    so i can at least associate with a known fallacy of the self.

    I felt so stressed and overwhelmed

    someone looking at my face would see worry and uncertainty written all over it

    i was constantly on my toes, on my feet, rushing about like a psychopathic maniac.

    There is that adrenaline rush that accompanies one when this state is heightened or made to be a norm in one’s manner of life

    your adrenaline is at an all-time high,

    while you rush around putting out fires that seem to erupt elsewhere and whenever you turn your back, that very place also erupts.

    I actually fancied myself as a fast worker,

    the one who got things done,

    the reliable one,

    the one who’d show up in a jiffy whenever a little inkling of a fire, was detected ready and armed from head to toe with all the necessary equipments, ready to demolish and rebuild the system afresh to avoid any other occurrence,

    but,

    shock on me!

    there wasn’t a one-off activity

    i will repeat, cycle and keep coming back to wherever i’d started to repeat exactly what i’d done,

    until the day was over and i very well knew tomorrow was a replica of the previous day.

    Let me rightly pinpoint that this happened because of the environment i was exposed to,

    specifically, the work environment.

    The manager and other minions moved about like they had springs on their soles,

    i joined the team when they were all hyped about this high of- if you aint moving like wild dogs are chasing you then you aint working at all- period.

    The psycho manager the one who ignited, drove, catalyzed, encouraged and even praised this kind of lifestyle, ensuring he will only approve of those who moved like they’re fast skating about, was the king pin instigator of this pathetic way of life.

    At the end of the day my feet were on fire, pulsating, vibrating, swollen, darkened, chaffed, my toes tips frictionally bruised and turned to an abnormal clotted color.

    I was beyond exhausted,

    my body ached

    and my feet felt like they couldn’t just support me anymore.

    I was miserable,

    my face was etched in worries that were unending and lined with panic lines,

    i was always anticipating the worst

    because not only was i moving from station to station for a casual walk by,

    i was actually solving issues that arose or anticipated ones that might arise when my physical presence wasn’t there.

    I had this heavy, sad frown, that pulled down the sides of my mouth to an ugly, frightful, pathetic, unpleasant look,

    deeply lined, sad, gloomy face that was perpetually on the lookout for a disaster i was supposed to fix.

    And the one thing that just deflated, demoralized, and broke the momentum of the busy rushing about,

    was if i found that i couldn’t access the station,

    and i had to wait or go and come back again,

    that meant not accomplishing the task that brought me over,

    but returning with that guilt ridden, unfulfilled self of not having gotten the chance to check in and right any arising or emergent issue

    and almost always there was an issue requiring attention.

    I, therefore needed to change the tools i had, or carry with me those tools to the other station and come back again when access was granted to the first station and continue the fix or start a fix.

    I resented the ones who made access impossible for that very particular time i needed access,

    i resented the wait,

    i never knew how to sit still,

    be calm,

    patient

    and just wait it out for a while.

    I just had to fidget around impatiently, wearing a long face and a scowl as i waited.

    The manger that we had was a real brat,

    him seeing you not actively doing something,

    like down there in the trenches, heaving, sweating, looking miserable, out of sorts, absorbing the heat of the moment, just beaten and weighed down with responsibilities or work,

    amounted to you not working, lazing about and a subsequent tongue lash and disparaging, soul crushing remarks.

    I was constantly on edge, drained, looking to fix anything or something as that was the only accepted currency that equaled to work.

    To say i was utterly miserable is an understatement, you only had to read my misery facial expressions which’d tell you the whole story and then some.

    This hyper anxiety and feeling of rushed nervousness was draining me and wearing me down to the point that i began to resent everyone and everything,

    my existence seemed miserable,

    i hated the fact that i just had to do, what i had to do, to call it an existence and survive.

    I actually neglected my hair, health and just lived to work,

    to please the manager, ensure no complains arose and that i put out the most fires as i breezed through the department like a bee,

    until i looked around with a microscopic keen eye ,

    detached off my scrambling about, focused on just aligning the most crooked that obviously begged for realistic attention

    and noticed what an idiotic fool i was for a very very long long time

    and i hated myself even more for this.

  • Muna part 2.

    So, we’d be waiting for the bus and she will draw a group of her like- minded consorts to her, and from where i was standing will hear remarks like makeup – then eyes will dart towards me- i was wearing make up only lipstick mostly and usually anyways,

    a colored person- so very much me,

    anything about me that’d be turned into a sense of mockery was exploited and used to tatters.

    In the bus it was deemed inappropriate or a taboo to sit with me, boys from her country and girls just sneered and looked at me askance like a dirty undeserving creature, enough dirty looks and talking that’d of course paint the unwelcome picture vividly.

    I dint let that faze me, i sat anywhere my heart felt content, in the end the one who felt their skin crawled by my close proximity moved anyways to find balm in seats where i wasn’t a seatmate.

    The loud annoying music played in the bus by them, listening to content and what have you, with full volume while all i could think of was a nap and some quiet.

    Not only that, the incessant overly loud continuous talking that never ceased without pause, was grating my eardrums to bleed out.

    You guessed who was the ring leader and the center of all that action- Muna.

    Let me mention here that she is and all other of my colleagues 10years or more younger than me, they behaved abhorrably and jubilated when they realized their antics were getting to me,

    if my eyes snapped open from a jolted nap, if someone moved from my seat, was a cause of laughter and mini celebration with loud, very loud talks with eyes and necks turned towards me for emphasis incase i dint get that i was the center of the aggravating yapping talks.

    There was this unholy silly running after and being the one to sit at the front seats of the bus, literal fighting, squeezing, pushing, clamoring, elbows out and an exertion of sheer force to just get through the narrow door of the bus with others crowding before and behind you, aiming for the same, a pathetic bottleneck scene.

    I had decided to never engage in this silly clamor but at the end i was left standing in the bus or having to use an unusually meek humble voice to ask one to scoot over so i can squeeze in to the in-between spaces of seats, and very most likely i ended up with an unassuming glare without a response and a face turned away or just stone-cold unresponsive characters.

    Well if this was what i was supposed to do to secure a place at the bus, then am not one to back down from such a fight, other unnecessary ones i’d bow out of, for this sake, i decided i will also be among the fray of others who fought for first place.

    When the likes of Muna saw i couldn’t be beaten on this, they also thought i’d be inclined to rush out of the bus too when we reached our destination, nope, that was a big no.

    I wasn’t in a hurry to disembark but that dint mean i was just seated until everyone alighted, when it was appropriate i did too and made a fast walk towards our living quarters, this was also a silly game of who will be the first and fast one.

    What just really gets to me is the vehemence with which the hate was directed towards me, for no real apparent justifiable reason except for the sake of it and because they could get away with it.

    Am not here trying to paint a pity pitiful party of myself but i just wanted to get this out of my system as its been bothering me for a long while watching someone recharge off adult bullying.

    Now this is a nice term to describe what was really going on but no physical contact was made of the kind to cause physical harm. But the mental, psychological hurt was deep and leaves permanent scars hard to ignore as they gnaw and chip at my conscious.

    Its not easy to work among and with people who delight in seeing you miserable,

    hurt,

    unsettled,

    pained,

    feeling alienated,

    discriminated,

    unwelcome,

    like something is broken with you,

    feeling odd,

    left out,

    jeered at,

    singled out,

    criticized,

    looked at with scorn,

    painted black.

    This isn’t to say am the only coloured person here, we’re quite a number but am the only one who is handed over the brunt edge of the stick.

    This isn’t something to counter with being abrasive, aggressive, argumentative, lashing out, talking back and fighting each time they goad me,

    i cherish my peace and quiet and i just wouldn’t be drawn in into petty nonsense each time the compass points west or when humans decide am their easy soft target for scorns.

    I’ll wear myself thin and frail trying to match immature behaviors that will sap out my energy and make me look as crazed as them.

    And the sad reality is that there will always be Munas of this world, in one form or the other, and when one exits she is replaced sometimes by 3 or double her likeness.

    So instead of jubilating am not in the proximity of that “Muna”i steady myself knowing that the war isn’t over yet and far from it,

  • Muna

    She was and still is my colleague as far as i can tell.

    I really don’t know what i did to deserve her intense contempt, anger and hatred channeled at me

    we don’t talk

    we don’t socialize

    we never did

    except when she was new to the location i was,

    we exchanged those pleasantries that come with newness,

    the -good mornings

    the- hi

    the you know small talk chatter,

    i even once complimented her about her name,

    “you have a nice name, sounds cute and short”, i said.

    Until we realized something about her

    by we i mean the whole lot of us,

    she was a show off

    like the kind who loves to be the best,

    the one and only,

    to be always recognized,

    given validation,

    “seen” to be working hard,

    “seen” to be keen and diligent in her work,

    just seen all over.

    and she did indeed ensure that she was seen.

    The funny thing is, she was actually assigned the most public facing role, at least for colleagues, not clients

    and it meant a lot for her

    i guess to be known among them as the most efficient worker,

    a hardworker,

    a lady who cared for and valued her work,

    a lady who was always working,

    and ensuring no lapse in her duties,

    taking herself and duties seriously,

    dedicated, friendly, sociable and

    hell bent on ensuring anyone who mattered saw her, recognized her, took note, praised her and sang her name amongst themselves as the best thing to have ever happened since she stepped foot on that premise.

    You know that person who works too hard going beyond the norm never minding whose toes are stepped on , all to garner some fame if not all?

    She really yearned for that recognition, and went out of her way to ensure it belonged to her.

    She always ensured when staff clocked in, she was among them just chatting getting to know who was who,

    identifying whose toes to lick and boots to wipe

    she mingled among them and made herself look like she was at that particular place coinciding perfectly with their coming in,

    so she’d be observing and pretending to be really hard at work, in the vicinity of the staff entrance for the timed entrance or exit of staff.

    “What was she doing?” you might ask

    cleaning of course.

    There was a time we asked her if in her previous location she was working like that, in that crazed frantic, with too much enforced energy channeled towards her focused points

    or she’s doing all these present pretenses for a show, and we weren’t wrong because her little annoying performances dwindled and faded naturally.

    And the area she was so avidly, jealously protecting us from trespassing became a sorry state most of the time and even filthy while she was present,

    whatever or wherever she was high on wore off and a real concrete hitting slab slam stump happened.

    She was so audacious as to be just placing her mop in front of the incoming mass of people just to look that she was you know, really cleaning this area, this very minute, but in essence she was just dementedly weird.

    So did she expect praise?
    did she expect the clocking in shift to just halt outside?

    or sidestep her as she maneuvered her mop vigorously on all sides where sidestepping should have occurred,

    she just monopolized the walkways, hallways and corridors.

    It verged on bullying and daring you to step on the silly mop or just stand still and wait or say “excuse me maam may i pass”.

    like seeking permission like a little kid in school.

    Ok, why did she choose that exact moment when the staff were emerging through the entrance to clean that area?

    why couldn’t she wait for them to pass and then reasonably clean after them?

    what sense does it make to clean while a group of people are emerging from the opposite direction and purposefully position yourself in front of them?

    what did she really expect?

    It beats logic and any sane explanations to what her true intentions were.

    It was crude, rude and unnecessary.

    Suffice to say, many staff started to complain to her supervisor and told her to her face that she dint need to prove anything nor clean their legs or shoes for them,

    many became rude to her,

    she still carried on, unfazed and fanatically high on her craziness,

    until she slowly stopped her witchcraft

    what was that?

    not only will she follow you around with her mop, but also into the ladies changing area as they all had to change into uniforms, freshen up, use the bathroom, touch up make up, blow dry or straighten hair, lock bags in lockers.

    She entered after us and went to work while you were standing there in your undergarments, what exactly warranted a cleaning wasn’t visible but she did it anyways, a clean floor, mop on your socks or bare feet, mop brushing past your shoes, going, “excuse me, good morning, excuse me”.

    i think she was sick in a way

    you have to give it to her

    the work was tiring, and showing off full time isn’t easy,

    it has no lag time as all the time you need to be on the move, doing something to justify your initial momentum, or the label you curated for yourself.

    Sometimes she decided in the evening at 10pm to do a wash out of the changing room lockers, that meant pouring soapy water on the floor, brushing and generally scrubbing the tiles, while we were changing!

    Picture this, you are on your bare feet or socks, she uncaringly splashes soapy water around starts vehemently scrubbing the tiles like her life depends on it with zesty, angered energy, that meant splashes will reach you, and you’ll be splashed wet, as she vigorously scrubbed the floor with energy that i don’t know from which high.

    Tell me you won’t talk angrily, shout, exchange words, have a fight, consider her an enemy of the people, especially when the scrubbing and splashing is aimed at where you are while others are spared.

    she did that you know?

    intentionally starting or focusing the scrub splashing where i was.

    was this to aggravate me?annoy me?draw me out into a fight?

    while she spared the brunt of the activity from her fellow country people, who shared the same linguistic language as her.

    She’d speak in this loud shrieking tone, “my friend! place the hanger on it’s hold!” as most staff left their hangers hanging on their lockers or threw them on the floor or laid them anywhere, some did that to spite her,

    who’d take orders from being screamed at, in aloud screech,”my friend! don’t leave your hanger there, place it where it’s supposed to be!”

    She shouted about a tissue not placed in the bin

    she shouted about water on the floor, sink marble countertop, some little splashes after washing hands that splashed outside the basin, or drips and spots on the floor, as it so happens when one reaches out for tissue after hurriedly washing hands.

    She shouted and went on and on about the bathroom mess to anyone who was within earshot around and inside the bathroom lockers,

    she placed caution signs on pathways blocking all sensible walkways and if you bypassed them, she will be on the other side shouting, “hey, why are you stepping on the floor! don’t you see am cleaning? you’re making the floor dirty! It’s wet and you can see am cleaning! don’t you have eyes?”

    excuse me,

    where do you expect us to relieve ourselves?

    or use the wash basin, except here?

    she was unreasonable, bossy and obnoxious

    not to say toxic to some of us.

    She had her favorites though,

    the ones who were meek enough to follow her orders and threats of being reported to her supervisor,

    that included some and most of those from her race, who spoke her mother tongue, and those she considered deserved a kind of reverence and worshipped treatment or a kind of respect accorded to them due to their presumed status or dressing and positions held in various departments.

    Those of course who worked in offices as accountants, engineering, IT, managers, coordinators, supervisors, assistant managers, front office staff who looked like dirt never touches them, and any other department as long as staff were nicely suited or had some title and reverence accorded to them as she recognized and got to know who was who or guessed via the dressing, and with time the staff’s position came to light anyways.

    The same kindness and human decency wasn’t extended to casuals, subordinate workers, housekeepers (though she related well to some that she accorded preferential treatment), attendants, chefs who were at a lower rank than the head chefs or senior chefs, easily identifiable by their uniforms.

    It was segregation and discrimination as per her whims.

    Now why you’d wonder was she allowed to be viciously crude and rude like this?

    because her supervisor was her fellow country man and they shared the same language and mostly were very close

    i don’t know what things she whispered in his ear that he never reprimanded her actions,

    but came as a no surprise that he converted to be one of her hordes who made up the squad bent on hating me,

    spreading hate,

    hate speech directed towards me,

    spoke to me anyhow mostly at the top of their voices,

    looked at me contemptuously,

    never gave way while i was passing by them on the hallway,

    ensured my time around their presence and the area they were given to govern was as uncomfortable as possible,

    ensuring i left fast or never set foot around their little stronghold.

    You can imagine they spoke the same mother tongue, decided unanimously that i was just an unworthy person and should never be accorded any respect whatsoever,

    they ganged up with their other fellow country people to ensure i never took tea in peace in the cafeteria but was driven out,

    rebuked like a cat that dragged in something from the garbage.

    She was also unfortunately cleaning the same cafeteria.

    Now in the mornings or before the start of duty we usually went for a bite of bread or tea,

    it wasn’t normal operating hours but we went anyways as some colleagues did,

    there she and her supervisor connived to hide bread, coffee, tea, sugar, lock the door, hide the paper cups, switch off the light

    some days we were lucky to gain access,

    by we, i mean others not from her close cronies and who spoke her language that gained easy access or direct staff that she dare not say anything about,

    we, me and her made up the casual population.

    Other days it was just a U-turn we made,

    if we ever gained access we were rushed, she came over with her awful dirty mop in between in front and on top of your shoes in the name of cleaning,

    all the while talking loudly in that high pitch manic crazed way, shouting in her language, but i could see the eyes turned towards me and feel the hatred seeping from her words aimed at me.

    It was mostly about me, i never talked back furthermore i dint understand what she was on about but i knew she was mudslinging on my direction.

    All i did was take tea or a bite like everyone, what was wrong about that?

    what did i do to deserve so much hatred and loud shouting aimed at me?

    the hatred, vehemence, energy and strength with which she was yelling you’d think something off about me,

    needless to say, most of her consorts and cohorts were brainwashed and listening to her going on and on breathlessly about me, pointing and looking at me,

    her enthusiasm and convincing talking points would influence your perspective and make you believe am the devil, since those i never thought could be influenced, those i never had any interaction with were easily swayed with minimum effort it seemed from her part.

    More converted and began showing me open hatred, contempt and speaking to me anyhow and about me.

    I’d just be over here minding my business when i hear a remark and all eyes turn on me, everyone freezes and just stares at me, while the instigator of the talk kept going on and on his gaze at me and laughter followed, the tone’s intonation suggestive of a jab and an ongoing derogatory remark, the tone rising sharply and accusingly, the brunt of it aimed at me,

    when you walk by people and they utter nonsense and laugh only they understand what they said, you catch on to the negative energy aimed at you and feel the odd vibes.

    Seated at the cafeteria, she’d purposefully make a cleaning pass with her mop just where am seated, and expect me to stand and find another place to sit or move so she can clean, not that this is the first time for her to do it,

    as other times we just sat and she cleaned around us, anyways it isn’t that there was dirt to be fished at my feet, it was just a way to annoy me, goad me into action, or just make me feel she has the say in this place as she was let loose to run amok with a nod of approval from those who were supposed to reign her in.

    As you can imagine this is adult bullying and i even decided for my own peace to stop going to the cafeteria for that tea break, to avoid those eviscerating unsettling jabs aimed at me for their joy and entertainment, but that dint stop them from finding somewhere to corner me and make me the center of their mockery.

  • Contentment or a self-lie?

    Contentment or a self-lie?

    What does being content mean to me?

    to you?

    add in the very real factor of being alone too

    not lonely just loving the peace, quiet and solitude of myself.

    Am soo quiet that sometimes i wonder if anyone ever lives like i do.

    I dont have music playing, i dont sing to myself, am just silent.

    Now that could be alarming to some, like could i be suffering from something, am i extremely introverted? don’t i like to socialize at all?

    dont i want a companion to keep me company? or a pet or a relative?

    no, to all counts.

    Actually i enjoy this kind of living, until i realize i don’t talk unless am going out to shop or i meet my neighbors whom i don’t really need to talk to as we usually avoid each other politely as each minds their business, though there are those that i do say hi to and end of story, if the weather or some occurrence popped up we’d briefly discuss it, share opinions and go our separate ways and that’s that.

    I don’t mourn, a “what if” or feel a loss.

    I actually admire the freedom that comes with being able to just do whatever in my silence and mostly it encompasses reading or writing, research and tada!

    Oh! Lest i forget i do listen to some favorite subscribed you tube channels and a few songs that give me nostalgia and take me back when, otherwise that sums up my entire life.

    Is it productive? I think yeah

    Is it healthy?yes

    Am i loosing my mind? Not at all.

    The only problem is when am supposed to speak with someone and engage in long discussions, sometimes i forget how to express myself and simple words take flight, the classic case of having perfect conversations in my head and writing ok, but use grade 3 English in my conversations.

    is that a negative detrimental outcome?not rellay

    since those who freely socialize do face the same problems as i noticed

    so yeah!

    my yummy world!

    Someone asked me a question the other day, what’s your unique talent?

    I dint bat an eyelid i juts answered writing

    Is that considered a talent? i dont really know as most people can write, talent or no, but given a blank page, i can easily come up with stuff, and fill it

    the only problem is, is anyone out there interested or ever gonna read it?

    I choose to stop pummeling myself with such defeating pitiful thoughts and just write and publish,

    maybe one day or never

    i just know i want to write,

    write what?

    whatever.

    Just anything that crosses my mind will do just fine,

    add the spice of deep reflections,

    life’s journeys and experiences,

    fiction and you got something at least.

    There is a time i was labeled as stressed or depressed due to the fact that i kept to myself,

    was mostly silent,

    and engrossed in myself.

    Some also consider me weird and tried to avoid me as much as possible,

    works just fine for me,

    one or more other people am relieved from socializing with,

    what a blessing!

    Others make an effort to exclude me from their circle,

    and make me feel isolated even when required to be a group or unfortunately mingling is expected,

    they go to great lengths to make me feel odd,

    make me stand out as awkward and saturate the air with the “unwanted here” or

    “not welcome, don’t try to join us” atmospheric conditions.

    I just wonder sometimes at the sheer lengths and energy expounded for such a petty endeavor just to make me pity myself or question my normalness,

    which works pretty well becaue such attention draws others of small minded characteristics

    or just because they don’t want to seem like they’re opposing or taking a stand against the majority,

    so instead of taking an individual stance they prefer to just go with the flow even if their conscious pricks them or they aren’t really supportive of the idea.

  • Disquiet,

    Disquiet,

    My soul in turmoil.

    I have this self doubt,

    a creeping feeling,

    a disturbia,

    a restlessness in my soul,

    a quiet doubt that arises each time, every time,

    a nagging worry that wont go away,

    a pressing reminder of my bare vulnerability and the realization that am wondering about,

    stumbling around instead of getting rooted, fixed, stabilized, serious.

    Am faced with myself to advise, i feel like a phony, a quack, a lost circling about idiot, just one of the masses pretending to have a revelation but just feeling about as i go along blindfolded by myself and just still going on.

    The speed of movement is alarming, am dedicating so much time, sacrifice, and continually applying myself to something i don’t know if it gets buried which is the likely outcome, seeing as well that thats what happened to its predecessors.

    Now in my disquiet, rising panic and tormenting grief, i realize of all these invested everything is that nothing will amount to anything, no fruitage of any sort, am just rudderless, and flapping about like a well-informed fool, with an outside countenance of self-assured confidence moving about with a directionless purpose.

    My hopes are dashed and broken, i feel like am chasing the wind, moving with the current at a bottleneck and nothing will ever come out of this.

    Its pitiful, saddening, a pierce to my heart over and over, a rising reminder of my helpless situation, which am still pursuing like an imbecile who never learns and keeps chasing nothing.

    I well know the outcome is nada, but here i am still at it, who does this to their lives voluntarily?

    Why is it so hard to just decide to do an about turn now? right now?

    But then again do what?

    Av become those people who keep flagging a dead horse, i see av hit a wall but i refuse to accept its a wall and keep backing the loosing bet.

    Am a proper educated, wise, sincere fool who knows their shortcomings but keep at them anyways because making a U-turn hurts, its failure, it means erasing and forgetting all av ever been doing as rubbish and dumping them.

    This is what i don’t want, since am attached to my garbage, trashing them feels wrong even to me, it gives a finality that’s more than a heartbreak of the most severe form yet.

    I dedicate myself to the collection of so much and creation to match the number, a mountain of sorts has formed and deciding to just trash these collections is something i just cant bring myself to do.

    So here i am in myself looking on with this sinking disappointing feeling in my belly of just how derailed i am and exasperated with myself for not knowing just exactly what i should do or the procedure to execute in the most painless capability as possibly possible.

    I will keep sitting, ruminating, and simmering in my unsettled seat that i willingly chose, and tamper down trying to dampen the crying out of my spirit and my mind advising me to listen, but i brush it aside as that one or many times of self doubt thats just ok,

    its not ok, i know if am being honest, i should just be brave and honest to address myself but i keep keeping it off, because i don’t know what else,

    i don’t want to forge new pathways when the one am walking on is well formed leading nowhere, i prefer it than inventing the wheel.

    Am just digging my grave, excavating the ground am standing on, pulling the rag off my feet and am not ashamed to admit this.

    I carry around this feeling, settling and weighing me down like tons of bricks.

    Am wrong or this is a false alarm that’s been ringing for so long, i will decide to give it a year, during this time, it’s enough to assess and properly sweep the corners, harness what i can’t get a hold of now, recalibrate, replan, rebuild, keep carrying this heavy disquiet with me and work out each and every solution i can come up with, in essence leave no stone unturned.

    If by a year there will be no change and the weight weighs heavier for no palpable satisfying reason and sirens keep going off, then, i think i will need specialized attention.

    In the meantime i need to live with myself, make peace to carry my disturbia with grace and the confidence of one who knows exactly where their next foot lands and its not in a swampy quicksand.

    Its like watching my life slip through the cracks and i cant put a stopper because some spillage needs to happen for a containment to be realized

    The disquiet will bloom or dampen to a leveled satisfied hum and disappear or i’ll decide to hold the dragon by its head and look into its eyes once and for all.

  • Angered by work,

    Angered by work,

    Feelings i can’t stop daily.

    I was angry that what i was doing repeatedly was just not enough, it’s like i was going round in unending spiraling circles, whatever i did i found a few minutes later that someone had voluntarily trashed my efforts, it felt like a deliberate choice to just wait for me to turn my back and just trash any progress or effort i’d made.

    I was angry as it seemed that i was kinda in a loop that just dint seem to have an ending in sight, one that roped me in with its cycling circle of repetitive tasks that made me mad as each second ticked by.

    I wasnt looking for appreciation or validation i was just angered to distraction by the fact that i had to do this.

    I had started the day chirpy, cheery, smiling, accepting, resigned happily to this fate, looking forward for the challenges ahead, but as the day wore on so did my resolve and positive spirit. I just felt them glide off me faster than melting butter.

    My spirit faded, my smile turned into a grimace, my cheerful cheery self just deflated to a beaten pulp of anger, a closed off face, no easy smile, a forced fake unrealistic smile that looked like i was grimacing, my lips dried, chapped felt the strain of trying to stretch into a smile as torture and the forced smile looked like a pitiful sad, ugly unnecessary plastic smile.

    To those whom i tried to smile at, they looked at me strange, of course misinterpreting the smile and just turned their faces away to avoid meet my gaze.

    I quickly learned not everyone, or every situation required me to smile even if i was in a hospitality setting.

    Back to my reasons of being angered it just seemed that whatever i was doing was like running on a treadmill, or just a never-ending marathon that got me worked up, whipped up by circumstances that turned me into this unrelatable unlikable person.

    I have actually been doing the same thing for a while now, maybe six years or more, and yes there has been many moments that av felt to be on the verge of just throwing in the towel caused by the never ending exhaustive annoying nature of my work.

    There were instances of quiet acceptance that i showed zeal and applied myself wholeheartedly but now anger seems to surface, bubble forth and spill over me quite fast.

    Am just annoyed beyond explanation by the fact that i literally need to do this. It’s not like am above doing whatever is required of me or i feel too good or too sweet about myself to work the job, it’s just the sheer overwhelmingness of it, the magnitude with which am supposed to function and cover a perimeter that could easily bring me to my knees in unrestrained loud desperate weeping, the fact that i haven’t yet, shows pure grit, maximum restrain and resilience on my part.

    It’s possible to self-manage and prioritize but am just repeating here the exhaustive repetition of it, the surface area expected results and the fact that nothing gets quite done satisfactorily is exasperating leaving me languishing in this excruciating anger that just doesn’t let me be.

    I feel am easily angered by things that shouldn’t, but in the real sense these are situations that make me see red, make me feel like my blood is boiling and my head is throbbing with the increased temperature within, i feel it’s swelling in size and turning me into this creature with a red-hot head steam rising off its scalp with deep set sunken eyes accentuated by my oversized huge glasses.

    I could easily love my work i know i should i think sometimes i do and it’s not just when it’s not busy but despite the business i still like the challenge sometimes but not to the point of driving me to the edge of my sanity or sapping all my energy dry to the very bones and still in this state of utter exhaustion and zero percent energy level is when it gets thickly busy and the work pile is enough to compare me to the slavery error.

    This is when my anger feels like it’s just rising bubbling and settles within me palpitating pulsating as one with my heartbeat, it cloaks me with a vice like iron grip, tightening its iron hold on me and wrapping its gnarly tentacles about my neck.

    It seems like at a blink my mood changes, i feel the gradual rise of anger within me as i look at the time and calculate whatever am supposed to accomplish, which isn’t assured as the only final complete accomplishment, as an influx of more tasks are bound to happen and arise almost simultaneously one after the other in quick succession, which is a real daily guarantee, that’s when this warm to boiling anger grips me and i just accept the pull and it engulfs me.

    I can’t pretend to refuse or deny its existence, neither do i feel like fighting it off and feigning positivity or being so energized, empowered and full of zest all ready and just too enthusiastically happy, ecstatically excited to be doing whatever needs done.

    There is no need to pretend because it just isn’t even realistically possible if am a normal person with all faculties functioning. That could be likened to a misplaced lost emotion wondering about and showing up in conflicting situations.

    There is nothing to make one jump up and down with excitement about work, nothing to make one smile for eleven working hours doing hard labor unless you’re demented, nothing enjoyable just tolerable and working mechanically robotically to accomplish the necessary tasks. And please just don’t ask me for help when you can just do what you need yourself or it isn’t a life and death matter.

    I know this doesn’t make me a better or good human, but it is what it is. How do you expect a person who has been running on the negative on their feet for eleven hours barely taking meaningful breaks even bathroom breaks, who has been putting out fires, is near fires, singed off all hairs and is literally covered in soot smelling of smoke hands blackened, chaffed, roughened, dried sweat clinging on every spot and fresh sweat caking over, to just put up with every other little upcoming incident with a golden heart and an open toothy cheery demeanor? Maybe someone else but as for me i well know thyself i sure as hell can’t play that pretentious game i’d better be flogged to death than pretend hypocritically to be in such an accommodating mood.

    And at the end of the day what do i do? What do i have to do to with my anger caused by just work? for the sake of work? channel towards me and maybe others who are innocent? Swallow it and keep wallowing in this emotion pit?

    Because i have noticed that we live for the sake of others. This is an unwelcome brutal truth. We’d like to think we live for ourselves and what we consider as important and vital for us but shock on us, we just live to serve others. We are at work to serve others, we work for the sake of others, we suffer for other’s sake, we exist for others, we exhaust and run ourselves to the ground for others, we tire and wear out for others, whether we like them or not, whether we like it or not, whether we accept it or not, all our servitude and doing good is all for others, when we wake up and prepare to leave our abodes is because we rush to serve others, and if others weren’t existing then we’d be sad quarantined creatures which we know we aint islands and we abhor the idea of just being alone and secluded off, as social people whether introverts or not at some point others need to show up in our lives as much as we don’t want to be that interactive or find others annoying, the greater part or smaller part of our lives need others interaction.

    You don’t open a business and serve yourself, you don’t go to work and seclude yourself in your office without any human interaction, from the time you step out of your house, even if you don’t necessarily talk converse chat or carry out a conversation that runs for minutes or seconds, at a point for sure you meet others and are forced to interact with them in one way or another physically or virtually.

    It’s a sobering realization and easy to accept concept hence our lives won’t be riddled with any surprises nor regrets. Does this make it easier? Maybe now that i know i need to meet and serve others i won’t be angered to shreds? No i will be still annoyed because one’s devil is another person. As much as others make the bulk of our lives through interactions they, also bring grief, sadness and deep sorrow. Yes, all brought about by our fellow people.

    It gives others a kick to see one in the trenches, caused by their actions or inactions, it gives others great satisfaction only to have you as their little or big slave, modestly dressed in employees’ clothes and aptly named as servant and applauded for being and exemplary worker or the best or just ‘irreplaceable’. What you are is simply a servant who is very good at serving others and has mastered skills to continue in that servitude, amassed so called certificates to serve better in a capability viewed as very highly sophisticated proving intelligence by being so good at serving.

    The certificates just act as a mark of distinguishing who is better placed to handle service at what level, all labelled named and categorized by others who decide which one goes where, which fits where, which is highly priced and more valued all in the name of service for others.

    And when we beat our chest as being very highly certified this means we are better at service of others, when we amass experience or years of servitude in a field, we are just better and pros at serving, period.

    It’s a mark of distinguished learnedness, washed off ignorance of quality serving to certified in serving and growing to a higher different level of continuous serving that induces jealousy in others seeing as your level of servitude brought about by amassed certificates has greatly improved which means a bounty salary.

    Others also follow suit in better servitude only recognized by the label and stamp on the certificate which bumps you higher the serving ladder, which is winding up and infinite, because in getting of a better servitude certificate is a continuous chase labelled as a recognized feat making one very marketable and a force to reckon with.

    Sometimes it’s not about the certificate for servitude and having it doesn’t mean one is good in serving either,

    It could be who you know, how influential your network is, which service of those you know hold most water and weight to connect you to a desirable service.

    Is it now any comforting that all our lives we live to serve others? Never will be! There’s no joy! as each day is riddled with putting out fires continuously, which is what we have come to accept as normal.

    This is work, it’s how it is, how it’s always been, any anger arising we attend anger management classes, we bottle it, we channel it creatively because this is the life of servitude whether we agree to it or not.

    As much as others will love to say maybe it gets easier at the top management or there is not much hustle the more you earn your servitude papers and the experiences you push under your belt, it’s all servitude and yes, it’s easier, maybe, better paying and not that manually labor induced serving when the papers demand a different criterion of being viewed with accomplishments and society rewards and applauds such.

    So, we are all clawing towards this ladder to the top, the ever-shifting mirage peak that’s enticing and the rewards and view that’s very mouthwatering, but funny thing is how it isn’t very easy to serve at the top table is.

    Should i then assume those before me closed off the doors when they gained access? Made their predecessors walk on glass shards before earning the badge of another sophisticated corporate serving? No!

    That’s a limited mindset and yes in servitude continuously till death is what we all strive. Let’s not sugarcoat matters that you’re running your own business or are self employed, its all servitude whatever angle you’d like to look at it and its glorified at its best.

    We admire those before us, those who seem to have it all together and yearn to be like them in so many ways. This is a set path of our lives and its society’s medium of operations, no changing it as we were made to serve and be served.

    It’s also a cute cycle as only the serving is in tiers and closed off and barricaded if you don’t fit a certain category or if your class is considered “not there yet” nor worthy of said service.

    We have learned to segregate services according to the most deserving and the quality or quantity measured out differs. It’s also not a secret that the top dollar is paid to the class, that’s considered and measured to the standards in place and that we all strive to attain or get a taste of. In reaching that standard we expect preferential treatment that’s advertised and promised as a world away from the norm, a slice of paradise, heaven for a price, service you can trust.

    With a quiet resignation and acceptance of our lot in servitude and where our current status firmly places us, we endure in quiet suppressed anger or contentment. Why anger? Because it’s not easy, because i’d rather do something else which for the moment isn’t even ready to make me a living or pay my bills, as i said its far from ecstatically exciting to serve at my level, so if other levels are cruises and walks in the park believe me am striving with all my might to be counted in, to reach that level of serving with gleeful bountiful endless joy. Or it’s just a smokescreen?

    I take a deep sigh and wish me well, for serving is our call it’s indiscriminate in nature and befalls one as per your level of preparedness measured and standardized by society’s and nature’s way of life. We found it existing we modified it and here we are still serving.

    Maybe now i should make peace with myself and just accept this as i well know how the mechanisms work, does that mean i will paste a smile throughout my workday? no i can’t even plasticize one let alone fake it, i will look the way av always been, my face at that rested mode of- as it is.

    And this is the quiet acceptance of life we know what’s there and what’s acceptably required for better service, so we strive each day to deal with the annoyance inconveniences and intolerable mishaps that arise. Maybe they’re not mishaps just what it is as it is, not normal but the norm at whichever place we befall.

  • The scrunched face

    The scrunched face

    I make this face, a kind of scrunched up face but it’s not my whole face, it’s my mouth that lifts up on the side, bit of my side teeth showing my nose gets a little lift on that side of the face too,

    i look in the mirror and mumble to myself or talk back whatever that annoyed me with that fixed look,

    like it may be a passing look but anytime i get really annoyed and feel personally aggrieved and affronted, with the episode replaying in my mind’s eye , that face is made- the tilting up of a side of my lip, flash of some side teeth showing, my nose gets an upward shove too, my lips curl up into that lopsided upward tilt, if i pass by a mirror i mumble to myself or repeat the annoying words back or the conclusion and translated meaning as per my view of the irritating words which change as the time goes by and the days run into each other, new or old occurrences add up and words are replayed reshaped respoken in that same tilt, sometimes not really spoken just internalized, running in my brain while i make that face.

    It’s kind of an expressed feeling or emotion, an outlet, a recurring thought processing mechanism, replaying the effect on me, the impact, consequences, underlying meaning, varied conclusive or open-ended disentangled interpretation, unraveled minute changing perspective.

    I get tortured while undergoing this phrase and always am the wronged one and the protagonist is the causative of my discomfiture.

    Am deeply disturbed, restless and each passing second find myself just making up that facial expression at the same time as the scenario is repeating in a different twist or view in my mind.

    I could also not be passing by a mirror, could be not near one but that upward scrunched look in the moment of annoyance, of the flashback irritation- just happens.

    Sometimes i don’t even say any words i just make that scrunchy face while my brain recalls the incident that just exasperated me,

    always the side lip tilting upwards, lips separated on the side of the tilt a little peek of teeth showing, side of nose follows the upward movement of the lip slightly raised upward- this happens very fast quick in an instant of a second then my face resets back to normal.

    I get to go through my annoying day or a comment or incident that just got to me like this, it helps me ruminate on matters, issues that affect me, directly impact me, get me thinking or overthinking in various forms of replayed scenarios or the exact word or words that just drive me nuts, instead of climbing walls with my pierced feelings and bleeding all over others i do this.

    I also find it helps me to narrow down my views on people and what they say and their underlying comments, communication that happened is suddenly fixated on a phrase that for sure resonated ugly and sat like curdled milk in my belly, left a bad taste in my mouth while travelling past and just never sat well with me.

    A careless or sharp remark uttered intentionally turns into the number of times i make that tilty scrunched up side face.

    It’s not a way of me to deal with anything it’s just kind of a reflex of myself ruminating over incidences and just summarizing or picking out those points that bore holes in my mind circling on auto pilot on that part that really really make me uncomfortable, stained my peace, arose a nagging disquiet in my soul, a jab at my conscience, made me question the intended/ unintended meanings.

    Ever vigilant i pull apart and dismantle the conversation to shreds and as usual find the hidden part that was a mockery and an insult well placed in plain sight or behind a few words.

    I noticed this usually more often than not happened with my former boss, he was a master narcissist, sadist, manipulator, egocentric, chest thumping psycho maniac, he blew his own horn every chance he got, we got tinnitus, he just was the own devil’s spawn, the most annoying creature av ever met, short of me being hanged, spending my life in jail or worst of all losing my job i had to tolerate that man.

    Every time and i mean each time he opened his mouth i was left scarred, bruised, covered in shame, stripped off all human dignity and worth.

    This guy’s reign of terror made me have these episodes of my annoyed side tilt scrunchy face and just repeating relieving all the hurt the dehumanizing terror he unleashed.

    I just realized how often i used to get that annoyed look when he was around vis a vis when he left, as he used to bring the ugly out of me, turning me into a hardened sad version of myself, so that could be called maybe a kinda coping mechanism or a way to process my trauma and really internalize my hurt as hurt is ugly so does my face mirror it, in a way that’s only done by reflex.

    In my hurt i found a way to mimic the phrases that go to me worst.

    I internally or spoke out loud for me to just hear and interpret the feelings and repeated to myself the phrases which hurt me and made me feel so small insignificant and stripped of my humanity.