The Duchess of Feces

Sir Winston Leonard Spencer-Churchill

I wonder whether any other generation has seen such astounding revolutions of data and values as those through which we have lived. Scarcely anything material or established which I was brought up to believe was permanent and vital, has lasted. Everything I was sure or taught to be sure was impossible, has happened. Where my reason, imagination or interest were not engaged, I would not or I could not learn.

 It is still hard to believe that it took me just to squat, to get my brown babies out of my intestines that morning. They have been around for quite some time you know. I laughed madly after the whole ordeal, realizing that possibilities exist in the courage of your own out-of-the-ordinary. You see, seating has been comfortable, but it probably has not been helpful. On top of that, having my feet on the ground has been scary; because in the end, when the lizards come by, I would have ended up in the squat position anyway, right? Absolutely.

The past one month in solitude became one of the most significant closures in my entire 24 years of my life. The additional months to 25 are still ‘under construction’. There is this saying, ‘I wish I could turn back time’. Well I found a loophole now – travel and backwards. Because while I have wasted the first 5 hours of my Saturday, it is still an early Friday in Africa. And it is not about buying time, its how you buy it.

I never cared for other seasons as what used to be in my world; it has been summer all the way. People often overlook the difference between a change, and an adaptation; if she says I am predictable, I’ll say I am just being true to myself and that is why it will always be summer. But if you ever miss summer, I truly apologise with a gentle reminder – summer is not a holiday for you.

 I wish I had good stories to tell, but I am busy writing tragedies. Won’t stop till its over, won’t stop to surrender.