Skip to main content

Be Yourself

 Be Yourself

M=Me

Y=You

M: Yeah, but how? 

And what happens if by just being “myself” nobody actually likes me or wants to be with me?

Y: Oh well, then you could just read one or two of those self-help books that smooth off those little rough edges, not that you need to change that much, just those few little things which, well, make you a little less likeable. 

M: Ok, so I’ve read the book

Y: What book?

M: Well, you said I should read a self-help book to make me a better person

Y: Oh, so was it the BIG BOOK OF SELF IMPROVEMENT? 

M: Uh, nope, it was a small one … I think, well, kind of medium sized

Y: Well then you could probably expect a few small changes, nothing too dramatic though. Maybe if you’d checked with me, I would have lent you mine, which is the best one … because IT’S BIG and has a lot of “HOW TO CHANGE YOURSELF AND MAKE YOURSELF INTO A BETTER PERSON” research in it 

M: Oh, well can you at least see a little bit of difference? 

Y: Well, now that you mention it, you do seem a little less sure of yourself, less over confident which is a plus. Maybe you could get a good haircut?

M: Cut my hair? But I like it like this, plus I think it makes me stronger

Y: Oh, it’s absolutely fine like it is of course but maybe a different cut might suit your lifestyle a bit better 

M: What? I have a lifestyle?

Y: Sure, you’ve got that free ‘n easy gypsy thing going which is fine … if you’re a gypsy, but maybe people don’t take you seriously because they can’t relate to you 

M: You mean my gypsy thing? 

Y: You don’t have to change it completely just maybe tone it down a tad. Maybe put some blonde highlights through your hair, they would just lift the grey a bit and make you look a bit younger

M: But I like the grey. I’m getting used to it. It’s me, and didn’t you say I should be myself? 

Y: Of course! Just be your best self

M: Which means read a book, listen to you and change my hair colour? 

Y: Well, what do I know? I’m not you am I? I mean, I like you just the way you are

M: You do? So I don’t have to change really? Because I actually like me

Y: Sure you do … 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Apple Cart

The Apple Cart  We were the offspring of the Volksie generation The Nestum cherubs of the Baby Boom Nylon, terelyne, lurex and spandex  All mixed in with a trip to the moon In our DNA the early rumblings  Of human division we did not understand But soon we learnt the language of survival Was written in the palms Of our sticky little hands So off we marched with our Crayola rifles While Dorothy Fisher got a brand new heart We coloured in pictures of the man on the moon And took a Giant Leap onto the apple cart Great big apples. Fresh and juicy More than enough for and more to spare We ate and ate until our bellies ached And still there were apples enough to share Which was quite fun until somebody said: “Hey! These rules aren’t right. Something’s wrong” So, some of the kids were allowed up on the cart While some other kids had to trundle along Behind the apple cart picking up the apple cores Thrown down by the kids...
5 comments
Read more

Nighttime Solitude

  Nighttime Solitude A lone peafowl pines plaintively across the darkened land Perhaps to call a mate or warn of passing danger But, I, a stranger do not understand For there are stranger sounds here where the darkened blossoms fall  A whispered footfall of a bushbuck shy, Nearby an owl hoo hoos and Who knows why for I a stranger to this night song of the frogs that sing And silent flight of night bird on the wing  I am a stranger to this safety in the dark  I blow the embers of the fire I made to keep the spark To fan the flame beneath the last log’s coal to burn more brightly For tomorrow I return to home and  Noisy cars and sirens nightly And to sorrow But for now I’ll sit a little longer by this tiny hearth The embers bright Competing only with Moon’s dappled light upon the appled earth And remember all the things I loved and love  put away the sorrow and the sadness for tonight  And ponder in the solitude that  Nighttime isn’t dark It’s just ...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Olivetti

Ok, This is my first blog and with so much to write, my fingers are practically paralysed mid-air. Hovering pointlessly above asdf and jkl; Essentially, I need to go on this journey. I need to write every day. I need to see if I have what it takes. That audience of one: that most critical of all critics; that shouty adult voice of reason that booms "this will flop cataclysmically" is all but drowning out the other little voice, the one attached to little pokey fingers that prods things just to see what they do. I will listen to that voice … I remember visiting my granny in a little town called Douglas in the Northern Cape, when I was about 5 years old and came in to her study one day while she was doing what we would now call admin. I guess in those days, she was paying bills and writing a few letters at her old roll-top  writing desk on the little portable Olivetti typewriter. Sitting upright as always, immaculately dressed with her grey hair neatly pinned back in a bu...
5 comments
Read more