Frustration Imposition

Umm…I wrote this quite a few weeks ago. Er, yeah:

Frustration Imposition

Ladies and gentlemen, from the person who brought you Lexivism, Ecfiosexuality and Universal Syntax, comes the all-new, earth-shattering concept of…Frustration Imposition!

Honestly, you all should be used to me coining my own terms by now. Anyway…

Do you know that by imposing your own bad mood on a person, you may just effectively destroy their whole day? No? Well, there you are, then. You may now thank me for this information. I call it Frustration Imposition because it’s exactly what it sounds like: forcing your own frustration onto another person, with the intention of making them also feel the magnitude of your own frustration. It’s kind of sadistic, if you ask me. Why on earth would you want to inflict such emotional pain on someone? =(

Speaking from the perspective of an artistically emotive person (by which I mean any small thing can legit make me laugh, cry or explode uncontrollably), I will always advocate for the right to feel your own emotions. As such, my issue is not going to be with anyone feeling frustrated, but rather with the attempt to make someone feel as frustrated as you…Banana. (No, I do not technically insult people. I merely occasionally refer to them as fruits when they bore me.) So, by all means, get as frustrated as you want. The ability to feel is good for the soul. But for heaven’s sake, do not destroy the equilibrium of peace in another person’s soul.

Here’s the thing, alright? Some people are really passionate about some things. This can either be healthy, unhealthy or both, at different times. However, I have my own views of what I should consider important and what I need not. I have no intention of forcing others to think like me or insult everything that I dislike. And so, of course, it baffles me when people begin to believe their opinions have a right to govern another person’s heart, like “Take this trivial thing as gosh-darn seriously as I do, so that you lie awake tossing, turning and thinking all night, rather than sleeping.”

Now I know that if I dare state the specific person(s) or event(s) that sparked the writing of this piece, someone might just get it in their head to expel me – and though more often than not, that is a desirable option, it would seem that certain family members are insistent on the continued expenditure of thousands of cedis and/or dollars on what people call “formal education” these days. But let us just satisfy ourselves with the example of a hypothetical teacher, purely for the purpose of satisfactorily elaborating.

A teacher, we know, has a role to teach. It should also be some sort of common knowledge that dozens and dozens of teachers would like to believe that whatever they teach is the most relevant topic in the universe. However, when said hypothetical teacher insists on insulting and/or blasting all of shis students every lesson, when heesh insists on plainly being nasty all day merely because something from somewhere is annoying shim, and if heesh gets frustrated at people’s lack of frustration with whatever heesh’s frustrated with, and as such, ends up failing to fulfil shis role as a teacher…then perhaps heesh shouldn’t be a teacher in the first place!

Personally I would say that this hypothetical teacher is being made deeply unhappy by either external factors or internal factors (say, purely for exemplary purposes, menopause/midlife crisis/manopause), heesh must, for example, retire – or take a looong break, to re-evaluate shis life, so heesh is assured that heesh is really ready to undertake the sort of life that teaching requires.

Perhaps I have (intentionally) digressed. I do not apologise. (It’s my blog, LOL)

My life experiences and though processes have led me to conclude that no matter what views people hold, about life and all it entails, you, as an individual, remain your own person, with the capacity to take your own decisions and build your own views about life, construct your own hierarchy of priorities, and determine what should frustrate you and what should not. And, as a matter of fact, you have every right to these thoughts and priorities. My prayer is for peace of mind that can, at the very least, transcend human understanding, and, as such, firmly believe that one should neither impose one’s frustration on another nor dare to abide it when another tries to impose their own frustration on anyone else.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is the end of today’s episode. =)



My Break From Writing Non-Fiction

Recently, I’ve sort of been on a break from writing things that aren’t either spoken word poems (which usually describe hypothetical situations, when I write them) or fictional stories. I’ve been having a lot of fun with the latter. But, at this moment, they haven’t been released yet. This break is kind of odd for me, because I don’t usually not write what I’m thinking. I’ve been rationalizing my thoughts to myself in words for over five years – and this recent hiatus wasn’t even so much of a decision; it was more like something that just happened.

Recently, my emotions and thoughts have been spiralling freaking out of control. I’ve wondered if anyone could tell from the calibre of my tweets. (A few people could.)

I have indeed tried to put my thoughts to paper, but more often than not, lately I just end up stopping almost as soon as I started, unable to continue. The problems are a range – but they don’t really vary, because this same range applies to nearly all of those times.

  1. Whatever I’m writing feels too painful or anguished, or depressing, and I can’t get it out without tears as by-products.
  2. It feels overly repetitive, and people (including myself) have heard it all before. The thing about me is that the things that emotionally and psychologically disturb me are usually the same. And whenever they leave room for a response, or if they are some sort of cry for help, whatever response people will give me, chances are, I’ve heard them before, and they were probably as (un)helpful then as they will be if I hear them over and over again. I get tired of the repetition, don’t you? I mean, a classmate recently told me that I talk about how much I hate being in school so often that it has become my version of ‘hello’. Ah well. When my heart is always overflowing due to circumstances that are not changing (i.e. I haven’t dropped out yet), my mouth will tend to speak unchanging words too.
  3. I know what to think/ I know the solutions. To write about the problems in my head would be to write about problems for which I know the solutions. But I also know that very, very much of the time, head knowledge doesn’t always change how we feel in our hearts, and it’s not really our fault. This evil heart decides far too often to disconnect itself from the brain. How for do?
  4. In writing FICTION, I’ve realised that it is so possible to express the same ideas in different, more reactive ways – even in spoken word poetry. So, when my mental faculties aren’t trying to shut me down into depressive sleep (whether or not they’re succeeding), I’m forming stories to portray the ideas that I need to get out. Writing those down, whenever I manage to get around to it, is liberating.

Yeah, so basically, I’ve been in a bad mental place and that has blocked me from writing my thoughts or opinions on a lot of things. But that’s okay. I’m healing, and I’m figuring a lot of stuff out. (Even though I might currently be failing high school.) I’ll eventually start freeing my mind like I used to. But it seems that for now, my brain has decided that fiction is its safe haven.

[PS. It’s interesting to think about the brain and heart as together and then as separate entities at different times.]


A Madman’s Nightmare

You don’t know how much I love this.


Silent beauty pervades his unconsciousness
Gradually taking over…

There he stands
In a field of healing
Unaware of how wounded he is.

He savours the breeze
Blowing with a calmly fierceness
Filling his lungs with the cold fire
Set ablaze by the side effects
Of the drugs they gave him.

This medication
Is messing up his meditation.
His sanity is
Being compromised.

Because the focus of his mind is
Cajoled into becoming someone
Other than who he is.

As the very thoughts of himself
Are pinned down
And are seductively dragged
Into a jagged abyss
Where he will be shut away
From himself
For a long time.

He realizes that it is almost too late
To do anything…

But suddenly
He awakes!
Panting painfully
As he is  greeted with
A different kind of silence
Which slowly suffuses
Into his consciousness.

He sighs.
Then exhales,
As he whispers
“These bastards!
They are…

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