Freewrites 4

No Time Like The Present

So Pastor has just preached a meaningful and poignant message. My notes are like super hot fire. Arms are waving, bodies upstanding, hands clapping, and the entire congregation has just made the Jericho-wall-tumbling declaration – “God will perfect everything that concerns me!’. Now for the dreaded part – the bit where we have to say it to our neighbour.

I turn to the left, I meet his eye, and say it with as little awkwardness as I can help, and I return my face forwards. Job done. I ignore the snapshot I had of a familiar small smile creeping up the side of his mouth.

I sense movement, and out of the corner of my eye I see a torso lean forward, then to the right.

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Freewrites 3

The way I see it is they force feed us with these images, these desires, these wants, these illusions of success, wealth, happiness, power and liberated sexuality.
Some of us swallow it, we grab it like haggard and starved creatures grasping for salvation, any salvation. We eat and await fullness, but the fullness never comes. If anything we feel more hungry after.

But we want it. We want it so bad. We’d do anything to get it. Our precious.

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Freewrites 2

A Pensive Moment

“I go into the favelas and give them something to lose; electricity, running water, schoolrooms for their kids. And for that taste of a better life….I own them”

A quote by one of the gangsters in Fast Five; I was watching it the other day. It was so deep it made me think a lot about some things, namely Custard Creams. Do you remember when you were small and they were the biscuit of biscuits? If you had them in your lunchbox and shared them, you were the don of the playground. For that taste of a better/supreme biscuit, you owned your playmates. What you said went. You were omnipotent.

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