On Soft Pedalled Rides (but)

Hi! We are long overdue for a writing.

Actually, not exactly. I wrote a fictional piece just the day before yesterday. Edited it yesterday, and got it ready to publish it on the blog.

I’m talking about writing here. On Medium. Indicating that the former piece is a fictional one will of course lend the belief that this one that will be written here is not a fictional one. Anyway, as I always say, I’ll let you reach your conclusions as to what you want this read to be. Fiction. Faction. My reality as it is.

Yesterday, I burnt myself.

I was playing with my lighter, recording a rant session on the pod, and I brought it close to my thighs.

I flicked the light on, and ran it over my thigh. Leisurely, and not directly.

I stopped when the heat got too much to bear, but I wasn’t allowing the fire on my skin either. I got curious after repeating same motion several times, and I decided to touch the fire to my skin.

I think I let the red reach for just a second, but it was as hot as it felt hot. I could not do any for a few minutes after the fire touched my skin. My heart started pounding, and it was more than the slight pound that whiffs of the white stick welcomed. Hot, because I was at that moment touching myself. A hand was holding the microphone, and the other alternated between my breasts, and the lighter.

I am looking at the spot I touched the fire to now, and it is scarred. I worried with it earlier this evening, and I peeled the covering it was already having.

My thoughts are everywhere tonight.

I am calm, and my thoughts are errant, but just that. Errant.

It’s not worrying. It’s a good night all things considered, and it has really been a while since I had a panic attack. I do not know if it’s because I now manage situations better, or…? I think it may be that, because my life is more…burdensome than it used to be, but I’m less fearful? Bothered? Anxious?

There’s a constant angst, but it is not the same as before. It’s the same just as it isn’t¿

I am not sure how to explain it past that, so we will move past it.

I filmed a video today (well, yesterday. The time is 00:11). That was after spending an hour on Tiktok. Just a few days back, I was welcoming the fact that the phase of recording hair videos was just that- a phase, and it was coming to an end. These days, I did more writing, and it felt like I was returning on some level, to the reality I had before starting on hair. But as I set up my ringlight, I accepted that I just had not felt inspired. Watching others create welcomed that yearning in me again, and Tiktrap did that.

You know, last year was an interesting year.

While having the rant session on the pod, I touched on this for a bit.

Last year was a lot, and this year feels like even more, though I am more grounded on certain things, even as I am unsure (yet not) about some others.

I remember a mate of mine seeing my piercings. She made a statement. I can’t quite remember how she said it, but her point was- You really are breaking away on all levels huh.

From being one who would not wear tops that showed my arm because I was conscious of its size (and some) to wearing bare tops and short skirts, dresses and shorts simply because I love it (yo short bits are my favourite ting to wear. I like long pants, tight/loose because of how it be making my ass look though). I am living a reality I now want (the reality I lived before this was as I desired, but can I say that for a fact considering it is how I was raised?), but that also welcomes a reality I did not think or know about (past stories I was told of).

There are some things I now…experience¿

Things I know ladies my age experienced long before now. Things I am only now experiencing. Dealing with these (some I’d share with you) is easy (I’m older, and while that is not exactly enough reason, I know more than I may have- had I experienced these earlier, so I’m putting my feet into these grounds with knowledge of experiences from others. Of course it’s different as it is now happening to me).

Man…there are a number I want to talk about and it feels like we have only just touched on a bit. And here I am writing about how there is a number to be written instead of just going ahead to write on the ‘number’.

Being offered rides; Being propositioned by (desirable) married men; Being taken on amazing ass dates; My stuff getting paid for at stores, and a couple others.

It’s like…there was no preparation. No soft pedalling into the circular world that had the currency of money and bodies. It was just an accelerated ride to the world of wrongs that did not feel so much like wrongs anymore.

Confidence is what changed things. Past the dressing. The character/aura is appaz a drug to others as it is to myself (lmao I really should fuck right off now).

2021 has felt a little easier.

We could say 2020 was the year I used to…settle into the person this phase is welcoming. Good ting I was home for the most of it, but again, I have a pretty good head on my shoulders (hehe), so I’m sure I’d have figured out things pretty well.

I am very…unsure about the things I enjoy. The creative things I like to engage in, and it is really only when my name/face is not directly attached to something I give it my all. I’m less…hesitant to just be.

As this phase introduced me to human males well outta my financial league, I was even more hesitant about sharing these creativities¿ because it felt small, compared to several others. I still feel that way on some days, but less so. It’s all part of the confidence shabang, and just owning my ting for (as) what it is- Ahhmaeezingg.

And I think we’ve written enough. This is all we will share in this write.

I hope you are well, and life is pleasant for you right now.

Woza- Mr JazziQ, Kabza De Small (and sum others).