deviousways

Ever get the feeling that you're faking it? I feel that most days. In fact, I know I am. Being fake, I mean. Especially on social media. Which, in itself, is an oxymoron, come to think of it. To me, at least. Because we are not really all likeable and loveable and sociable. In real life, it is not humanly possible to be friends or friendly, all the time. Rather, we diss and dissect. We gossip and bitch, about each other. But we continue to fake it, online. And social media lets us.  The other day, I was depressed and down in the dumps. Seeing all the happy-awesome posts in my Facebook feed, made things infinitely worse. So I lost it, after seeing a 'friend' upload a couple of 100 pictures (okay, I exaggerate) in a matter of minutes, from her fabulous break. So well, I bitched about that to a group of friends on WhatsApp. And nobody reacted or agreed with me.  Naturally, I felt awful. Wicked. Like a total bitch. To make matters worse, the next day, the person...

I'm the world's best twerker. Not that you'd know it. I dance like nobody's watching. Well, because nobody is. But that's what's so joyful about it. Because I dance for myself. And because I love how my body moves to the beat. Put me in the spotlight, put me on video. And I freeze. For, my grace is my own. Not for you. Not to be 'liked' or re-posted. Or whatever. Because this is what I do, for myself. To feel alive. It's a private moment, a joy that is mine and mine alone. Like sipping your first cuppa of the day. Knowing it hits the spot. Or sharing a smile with your love, cherishing the knowledge that only you know how to touch him a certain way.  Like giving your child a tight hug, listening to that little lisp And knowing that soon, these memories will be overlaid with new ones. Why celebrate and capture it for the world to see? Because these moments will seep into us, by and by. Because these are meant to be lived, not ...