Life is full of disappointments, and I just added Monday mornings to the list. From waking up with a vehement ‘no’ to the dream saying ‘goodbye’ to having to bump into her every other week that passes by, Monday mornings are the new ex-girlfriends. Can you imagine how we wake up and suddenly there’s no weekend? Or how Sundays show so much love to you by pinning you in bed a great chunk of the day or even allowing you a leisurely stroll in the sun while making those sudden connections with those ghosts that artistic minds talk to? In fact my life has been reduced to lurching from one relationship with a Sunday to another.
It’s Mondays like today that will always stick out like a sore thumb though. First, it’s as early as 7.00 yet the sun’s already glaringly up and about harassing the light-skins. Then there’s this stomach ache, just close to a fart that’s lost its way in those internal pipings but more near explosive diarrhea. I expected to pop out a water melon early today but i remembered I’m male and i haven’t been fooling around with any pollen grains. A dash to the mall for some pain killers and the mommy there just advised me to go poop, chew my food properly and stop abusing drugs. I had to run before someone calls police. Pain killers are drugs? Oh yeah, gotcha. I’d also thought that way, like; how did she know I’ve been … … story for another day.That’s what moms are for anyway. Reminds me, i miss my mom.
Flashback to the night’s events before i slept. A party in my neighbor’s quarters spilled into mine and it was immense. People jumping up and down and being so high on chocolate, you’d thought they’d had frog-pie. And yeah, because everyone woke up today croaking instead of mumbling sensible verbals. Ever had a voice so hoarse you can ride on it? Me neither. Helpings of food, drinks and a dessert that coincided with cock crow are a prelude to these tummy algebra i can’t solve. All i remember well is munching gulpings so hot on pepper and breathing like a fiery retarded dragon. Then, my dinner stomach was full but there was still room in my dessert stomach. Going to bed was a walk in the park but when i got up, my stomach growled so loud the dog barked at it. I normally don’t whine of a sick bag of dung; but this’ what happens when you love food more than you love your neighbor.
I’ve paraded samples of dewormers from my cabinet on my table like high grade stallions to be admired but these things never perform. So I’m not sending them to battle down my tummy. I guess I’ve scared my stomach enough times from every time i wrote there’re butterflies in there but “hey tummy, t’was just a joke, i swear I’ve never eaten any caterpillars”. Or did i swallow live pieces of meat? I know Eno will traumatize those attention seeking demons in there into being socially dysfunctional so that they stop the battle of the century in the beef stew i baptized them into yester-night. I just love how Eno does the fizzling sound when you pour it into a glass of water; just like sharpening swords you know.
My stomach’s still growling. Like a wolf. Guess i need to eat a sheep. But Google says i shouldn’t eat anything till i undo my pants and unleash the bombshell between those privacy-four-walls. Frankly, I’m so curious i want to see what will pop out. Then an aunt, who knows that I’m a meat lover (by the way, that’s why i love birdwatching and stalking gazelles graze) has advised me to stick to a veges-only diet for a week. How can i eat what my food eats? Never!
I’ve just explained why you won’t be seeing me in town or in the streets or anywhere else where i pretend to eke out a living. I’d loathe my worms fighting it out loudly in public. Thank heavens, I also won’t have to change from yesterday’s clothes because I’m not meeting any peeps that i met yesterday today. Otherwise, let’s go on living as if nothing’s happened to my digestion turbines because no one sees when your stomach hurts; but everyone sees when your brain does. Have a nice week; and don’t be stupid.