#thescribbler

[pebbles0017]

#day100 . . . . . . . #425 #SEA #dinner #homecooking #homemade #food #pasta #manicotti #lasagna #greeksalad #vinrouge #cabernetsauvignon #shiraz #yalumba #barossa #australia #2013 #thescribbler #dinner with that #sunset

[galelathabile]

Nothing I've come across means anything anymore but it also means so much, yes it gets complicated. But what good story isn't?

Colour Coded Scribbler 

[galelathabile]

I like the idea of being unsure, the anticipation that layers itself deeply in not knowing. The fear that slaps itself across your face at the first sight of change. I love what happens after winter. Spring.

Colour Coded Scribbler [From Bed time stories to self]

[galelathabile]

I just had one of those moments that hit you mostly after spending a little too much time trolling around social media. 

Yes ladies and gents I’m about to rant, but let’s not act like we don’t find these rants semi amusing. Everyone lives for a healthy amount of banter on these web coded streets. 

Anyway, I just read a very heartfelt post by a man about how he wishes that women would take things a little less seriously. According to him, you can’t be with a chick, flirt here and there, and throw in a roast for good fun without her getting super personal with you...

Guy: Your toes look like they’ve been dipped in hot water since birth.

Girl:  Well fuck, you ain’t shit, you earn minimum wage and your daddy left you!

So naturally I giggled a little after reading that. Hell typa chicks is this homie dating is the real question here. Brothers (you know yourselves) let’s not blame your taste in crazy on all women. You like living on the edge, you love the idea of a woman stalking the shit out of you, you like arguing over shit you don’t understand and you especially love watching her arms to see which side the next flying object will be coming from. It’s cool man, that’s your type (apparently there’s someone for everyone) but let’s not pretend your type is the only type of woman out there. 

We (all sexes) need to stop fearing women for their emotions. We need to stop acting like being hormonal is a disease that aims to destroy the female species. We don’t have to act like we understand what the hell happens in each others heads (pick a homie to experiment on and live hellishly ever after if you insist on knowing). It’s completely okay that the way we work makes no sense, it was never meant to.

Let’s fear woman for what they really are, hungry fragile beasts coming after everything you thought you knew. 

[diviinedogs]

omg! I knew there where people who had seen Xiaolin Showdown online, but I never thought there was someone else on here who had seen it when it was on TV! man that was soooo long ago! I remember watching it on Jet-X, what channel did you see it on?

omG YEAH IT WAS A REALLY LONG TIME AGO

I think it was either Kids’ WB or Cartoon Network! I’m gonna go with CN though because I’d watch it when I was hanging out at my dad’s work

[galelathabile]

The Misses

She lay on the soft carpeted floor, drawing circles around it. The fibers had never looked as interesting to her as they did at that very moment. She’d find the beauty in almost anything just so she could occupy her mind with something other than… the other thing.

She toyed around with her phone; no one to talk to, nothing to do, nothing new to see. The longer she stared at it the more she was convinced she would lose her mind by the end of the night. Every couple of minutes she would say a silent prayer, pleading with her heart to speak a little softer. It didn’t work; instead it drummed harder as if to show her that she could only lie to herself for so long. She knew she’d have to acknowledge the problem soon and do something more than just change positions around her room.

Her head now dangled from the bed with her arm reaching for the floor. She was trying to get as much blood rushing down to her head as possible, another distraction. The silence was deafening but any kind of noise felt like a hammer knocking against her head. She was now convinced that she was definitely losing her mind. She would not survive this night.

Her phone buzzed; making her jump from the bed with anything but a graceful landing, she hit her head hard on the floor. “Fuck” she cursed through clenched teeth and fingers clutching at her head. “Phone, phone, where’s that damn phone?” she scrambled around the room looking for where the buzzing was coming from. “Hello… hey… I’m okay, how are you?” her voice sounded gruff and hasty. She cleared her throat and tried to slow her breathing. Wondering what the hell was wrong with her, she used to be better at this, right? She couldn’t remember, but that wasn’t even the point. She had to concentrate on being as honest as possible now. After all, she had been waiting for this phone call for two days.

“Hey, you still there?” the voice on the other side of the line asked. Shit, now she wasn’t even paying attention to the conversation “Yeah I’m still here. Sorry, I got a little distracted” she responded sheepishly. “Oh, are you busy? Should I call you later?” the other voice said, “No, no I can talk.” What she really wanted to say was that she had been ready to talk two days ago and pushing this conversation any further would surely ruin the last of the bit of balance she had left in her life.

***

15 minutes into the phone call the conversation was anything but pleasant. How it had escalated to this point she had no idea. She hadn’t even gotten a chance to say any of the things she had planned and unplanned in the last two days leading to the call. This had always been the problem, their communication was terrible. Emotions always seemed to take over for both of them and they would both walk away feeling spent and unsatisfied.

“You are not listening to me! This is the problem you don’t ever shut up long enough to hear what I’m trying to tell you. You only hear the things that subsequently turn you into the victim. So I can apologize and you can get out of it without having to ever take responsibility for your part in the problem. I’m sick of it. You’re wrong! You’re wrong now, you were wrong before, you’ve almost always been wrong!” She exhaled those last words so heavily; it took her a few seconds to control her breathing again. The line was silent for a long time after that. She waited impatiently for a response, but didn’t say anything to rush it.

“Okay, I’m wrong. I blamed you for everything. You have never even once actually been to blame for any of the things I’ve blamed you for. My bad, but I want you to understand something, I’m done talking and this will be the last time we ever talk about this. I’m tired of going around in circles arguing over the same thing. You’re right and I’m wrong. Just know that I’m tired of being wrong too. Good bye.”

“No wait!” it was too late, the line died.

***

On the other side of the line, the other she dropped the phone beside her bed and lowered her head onto her pillow. She had waited two days to call hoping that the space would help them have a decent conversation with little to no argument. She thought that maybe when they eventually spoke a solution would be easier to come by, but she realized now that she had forgotten who she was dealing with. There would never be any peace between them. How their relationship had lasted four years with this mindless bickering was beyond her.

She closed her eyes and fell into a deep peaceful sleep. The most peaceful sleep she had ever gotten in months.

Sometimes over, was good.

By The Scribbler | Thabile Galela

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[galelathabile]

Temporary forever's.

Self

[galelathabile]

If art were to portray human dignity It should portray the human the way the human portrays itself

ColourCodedScribbler, from Art needs me