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Remembering how to Fly.

8 Jan

Morning mortals, da_sweetthin is happy to be alive today. To achieve her dreams and to be a part of your lives in one shape or form.

Today, I shall be conquering my rather recent fear of prose. Ever since I began this website, I haven’t really written like I want to. Sadly, the reason I gave myself was that I could not find any inspiration for prose. But today, I shall test the waters again. Maybe in it this time, I may find a goldfish. This piece will be called Remembering how to Fly. See you on the  other side..

 

Xena was always told to reach for the stars. She had memorized her mother’s words as well as her father’s neatly crafted hand written pin-up memos that constantly said “Remember you are an eagle’s seed, whatever each new day may bring, we only ever coast above the rain clouds.”  But she was scared. It wasn’t that she did know what was expected of her; rather it was that she didn’t know whether her road to her mountain of rebirth, was the one which would be accepted by the eagles her parents were…

She was in her  fifth year in secondary school. Strangely it is was not that she was an unattractive young woman but she noticed that while seemingly plain girls like Tara and Zelda texted her every so often  about a cute boy that they had snogged or drank bootlegged vodka with on saint Finbar’s hockey pitch-the one by their semi-prefabricated school, an eyesore in an otherwise classy neo-urban suburb somewhere between Malahide and Fox-Rock, her phone barely beeped. And when Saul called her from her bio lab to ask if she was still feeling ill, she had heard her mother scream “no go carry belle for anybody oh!” more times than she would like to openly admit. The urine tube that Dr Gerald would give her prior to yet another mandatory pregnancy test at the early stages of her painfully irregular feminine cycle was the singular thing she saw in her head when ever Finton tried to touch her. If it meant a negative test result, this hormonal imbalance the crass call having a bull’s horn; she could not even say she was horny without feeling like the ground would swallow her would have to cool down for Jesus.

But as the years went by, she had learnt to experiment with a whole lot(for her at least) of things. She discovered that the fact that her parents said she must have a degree in aeronautic engineering did not mean she could not play recorder all her life after they had spent money on an expensive uni somewhere far away from the homes that she knew complete with money for Vodka and red bull. The fact that a man said I will wait did not mean he wasn’t having sex with someone else, it just meant if he had patience he was waiting. For now at least. And when he left, you would find out, he would never tell you and you had to be fine with it and in the long run you definitely will though, after all, “E never collect” no?

She kept journals. First paper then private zip file journals. Of the many times she had thought of many risque things that Udoka, Busayo and Imoh had sent her to ease the pain that they apparently saw in her eyes when they skyped her. Because as they said, she should make the trip to them so she can ‘feel alright.’ (I look like CBN for your Eye?)—ppl be forming Marleyon a sister. Ann Summers vouchers, money, some dodgy little link obviously linked to a sea of *blue feem*. Her life was the epitome of dark.

But she was a woman who believed she could always find God and that He’d find her before she thought that he needed her.

This is the only reason she could really feel the need to see a new year. To be here, In the magic that is right now.

This is where she remembers that like an eagle you do not lose feathers on the ground, but on a mountain. And as you cannot fly with bald wings, you must wait, long and hard for new feathers, to fly. Time makes every scar unnoticeable.  (almost) . Like a new robe.

Isaiah 43:19

For Laraba.

Oh and thank you heaven, for Diddles. xo

#GoodbyeMidas

Have you ever felt like this? Or know someone who does?

*Based on true  events. And very unscripted*

 

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2 Responses to “Remembering how to Fly.”

  1. omotolamitide January 8, 2014 at 3:36 pm #

    Great concept!

  2. Tejflow January 8, 2014 at 3:52 pm #

    Me likey your stream of consciousness theme of writing. Lovely!

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