Charlie Hebdo. A Seven Year Old’s Reaction.

Children are wiser than the adults who think they know so much. As we age, our brains are trained to think certain thoughts and look at things with a pinch of salt. We lose the touch of humanity we were born with. We lose who we were meant to be in the process of becoming what’s socially acceptable.

The Daily Think

I didn’t get to switch the radio off in time this morning. She heard, and understood (it seems). This was her response. charlie Hebdo

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Mann Ki Baat

There are moments when you catch yourself humming a song and that song isn’t something you’d generally hum, so you zone out and try to remember why your brain might be willing to recollect a song- word by word- when you don’t even remember thinking about it for half a dozen years and you don’t generally remember things you did yesterday, let alone remember song lyrics. And then, like a bolt of lightning on a summer afternoon, it hits you; it’s the song he had sent to you as a random instant message on some fateful evening as a part of a mundane conversation. You rue the day he had put that memory into your head. Why, Lord why? *silent wales*

Why do people choose to leave, or why do we decide to disown a few people along the way to what we think is our nirvana? I had made this decision for myself (and the other involved party, obviously) on more than one occasion. Thankfully (?) they came back more because they knew I’m stupid and I didn’t really want them banished from my life. But, they were my friends. MY people. They were the safe net I used to free fall into and what else was I to do when they burnt me as I fell?

But this guy, these guys, who waltz into our lives and make us believe that fairytales exist are the very guys who also make us remember that tragedies have always been bestsellers. So, no. I refuse to succumb to humming a song lent to my brain by someone who isn’t welcome. If only I could command my mind. Heyyy, isn’t that how it is supposed to be in the first place?!

Go away intruder, I say! Shoo Shoo Shoo from my mind. These ear buggers are a nuisance. Now that I know why the song was stuck in my head, I googled how to get rid of it and apparently I now have to listen to the entire song because the human brain replays anything it finds incomplete. Is that why break ups are so hard?! ..because we are hard wired to remain in agony if something ends prematurely? Oh lord, is that bad news for me, or what?

Time to listen to a terrible song sung by someone who isn’t even a singer by profession. Hurray, not.
Later x

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I wish it were this easy-peasy. Also, break*

If I ever sent you a voicemail, this would be it.

I almost miss the sound of your voice but know that the rain
outside my window will suffice for tonight.
I’m not drunk yet, but we haven’t spoken in months now
and I wanted to tell you that someone threw a bouquet of roses
in the trash bin on the corner of my street, and I wanted to cry
because, because —
well,
you know exactly why.
And, I guess I’m calling because only you understand
how that would break my heart.

I’m running out of things to say. My gas is running on empty.
I’ve stopped stealing pages out of poetry books, but last week I pocketed a thesaurus
and looked for synonyms for you but could only find rain and more rain
and a thunderstorm that sounded like glass, like crystal, like an orchestra.
I wanted to tell you that I’m not afraid of being moved anymore;
Not afraid of this heart packing up its things and flying transcontinental
with only a wool coat and a pocket with a folded-up address inside.
I’ve saved up enough money to disappear.
I know you never thought the day would come.

Do you remember when we said goodbye and promised that
it was only for then? It’s been years since I last saw you, years
since we last have spoken.
Sometimes, it gets quiet enough that I can hear the cicadas rubbing their thighs
against each other’s.
I’ve forgotten almost everything about you already, except that
your skin was soft, like the belly of a peach, and
how you would laugh,
making fun of me for the way I pronounced almonds
like I was falling in love
with language.

– Shinji Moon

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Hey, hello.

New person in my life, Hey! It’s so good to have you. I feel like I’ve been rummaging around for the longest time to find you be a use you’re an important part of my jigsaw. Do you know how difficult it is to finish a puzzle if you don’t have one of the clues? You’re the clue. Hell, you’re the walking and talking answer to the final number on my sudoku mystery. Phew.

Did you know I dance like a crazy person when I drink? I also dance crazily when I’m sober but that’s something you’ll find out soon enough. I mean, the moment I’m slightly comfortable with you, you’ll see me jumping on the bed or singing “I like to move it move it”, quite loudly.

I have tiny hands. I read the horoscope at the end of the day to corroborate it’s truthfulness. I play with my hair when I’m sleepy. I play with anyone’s hair when I’m sleepy, actually. I’m the best hair player you’ll find, trust me.

I like being consumed, being looked at in a way in which I know that I am the one and only one. I like being the centre of the focus of your attention. I enjoy being the only one.

Let’s take it bit by bit.
So,

Hey, new person in my life! What’s up?