Ty and Jase

"Why do you get like that, Ty? Why?" Jason asked his twin harshly, furious with the most recent stunt Tyson had pulled. Again. After over again. It's like begging for a death wish, he thought. Playing games with the wires of destiny the way he does.

Carefully inhaling his Cuban cigar, Tyson gave him a cursory glance before turning his gaze outside, past the the floor-to-ceiling panelled windows to the beautiful english garden their mother had designed. Their deceased mother. Thanks to a jug of vicodin and some kegfuls of irish whisky. And let's not forget the stress pills - 'happy pills' - as their youngest brother Aaron likes to call it.

Naive kid.

"Well? Aren't you going to bother answering me?" Jason barked, eyebrows drawn in in anger.

Tyson switched his gaze to the ends of his cigar, twirling the insanely expensive commodity between his fingers slowly, marvelling the mix of dead colours. Dead, much like people he knew. Even Jase, perhaps? He smirked. Not literally. He took a long torturous breath before responding.

"What do you want me to say, Jase? You've been able to second-guess me since before we could both walk. What's stopping you now?" He said in a bored voice, taking another sweep of his cigar as he looked out the window again. He didn't see Jason looking at him incredulously.

Jason couldn't remember the last time he felt so out of place. He could hardly believe this was the same person who taught him how to shoot the basketball so that it landed always into the hoop when they were six. What the hell had happened to his brother? "What's stopping me? What's stopping me?" he shrieked.

In that moment, the insanity of what was happening struck him hard. And he laughed. Uproariously. Bitterly, until Tyson finally registered that his perpetually-composed brother, had seemed to crack.

"You know what you are Ty? You're like Two-Face in Batman. Manipulative as fuck. And worse, you like it," Jason spat bitterly.

*** unfinished...we'll see where this goes I guess.

Lies

"But it's too hard. I lied when I said it was okay. It's not. I can't stand the thought of you being with her. I hate hearing about you kissing her."

- "It's All Relative" by Cupid Psyche.

Line Your Traffic Lights Proper, and Keep 'Em Straight Up

Setting out priorities is a challenge to many. I myself have had trouble setting my priorities, or even not the point of setting them out yet, but merely identifying what they are (or what they should be).

It all of course, comes with the territory of being an adult. Of coming of age. Of...simply put: growing older. Given the choice, obviously it's not something any of us would purposefully do. So we prioritize (or try to), for no other reason than we must.

The problem is, keeping your gaze focused on your target is not a piece of cake, and even more not so when you have one, two, three, ten, twenty, a hundred, a thousand, and so on (you get the picture) of other voices whispering in your ear - tripping you; questioning you; questioning you that you question yourself; questioning you that you end up...lost.

But the wrong does not lie with the question. No. It lies, in fact, in the unfortunate situation that you find yourself in: feeling that you have to question yourself. Feeling that you are incapable of making a decision, without a second opinion, if only to convince you that you are not making a mistake, if only to ensure your mind's peace that you won't be regretting what you come to decide today. This is wrong, because you weaken yourself by doing so.

No one's asking me - but this blog is mine so I am free to write whatever I think. And what I think, is that one should have the ability to decide freely. One should have the ability to see, without rose-coloured glasses obstructing the truthfully bleak view. One should have the bravery, the courage, the nerve, to put all other considerations aside - be it political, emotional, personal, religious, social - and take a dive into the truth.

Originally, Georgia

I've gone bored again with the last blog design layout. I thought that that would be it for me, seeing how it was all soft pink and subtle and everything. But in the last few days, I felt like it was dull. So I've decided to switch back to this theme that I've used before: "extreme georgia". I think it's very different from a lot of the blog templates out there - and I for one, have never liked being unoriginal.

Thank Your Body Fat - it's a LIFESAVER

I don't think I've ever been more thankful and felt so fortunate that I happen to be a little big in the bottoms, than today.

Prior to this day, or rather, this morning, I've always cursed my luck for "blessing" me with a big butt and an equally big pair of thighs. I've envied my mum, who in my age was nicely thin and had legs that went for miles, and likewise I've cursed my brother, who seemed to be the only one of us five blessed with her gifts of long legs and dimpled bottoms. I told him plenty of times, that being a girl, I'm the one who should have had his butt. And his legs.

But God always has His reasons, and God always has plans.

Want to know what happened to me today?

I fell in the bathroom as I stepped into the shower. My right foot slipped, just like that, and I went flying backwards, hands flailing everywhere in my desperate attempt for something to hold onto (and there was none). I count it my FORTUNE, that I landed on the right side of my fat butt, instead of in the middle or my spine, which would have been deadly, and most likely rendered me disabled. Or worse, landed my head on the floor, crashing my skull into stone-hard tiles.

No, I am thankful to have my body fat cushioning my fall, and I broke my fall with my right hand - a bit harsh but not damaging. I don't even have a blue bruise (not to be equated with no bruise at all, mind you).

Had I not have that fat on my butt, I assure you, it would have been bones against hard tiles - splat.

So for those of you with a little extra squish here and there, love them. Or learn to love them. They just might save you one day, like mine did.