A Bit of Me Goes

I don’t feel funny today. I feel strange, and there are strange things stirring within me, alien things, reaching out from somewhere deep within me and moulding my mind into a motley of shapes which make no sense. I feel strange today.

Maybe I’m slowly changing, bit by bit, molecule by molecule, my being slowly slipping away like grains of sand through fingers, and a different someone taking my place. She is slightly more confident of herself, she can laugh away things that need to be, her strength, which is still only burning embers, and not a roaring fire, has flared from within her, her eyes smile a lot and her less-than-perfect teeth flash at every available opportunity. She is growing, her steps are wobbly, but ambitious, and she knows that must she fall, she should take it lightly; she can always get back on her feet again.

A resolve is building within me. I must change, for the better. I will try my best to do away with the parts dragging me down, the parts which leave me breathless with despair, horrified with misery and trapped with desperation. I will try my best to obliterate the pieces of me which make me mean, narrow-minded and short-sighted, which only help me observe, not see.

Oh but I am still here, this body is still mine, my laughter still sounds the same, and yet I’ll be glad to lose a little bit of me for good. Just so that something new can find its place, just so that the room has some yellow sunshine, some fresh air and the waft of fresh buds.

It smells like winter now… the mornings are a little colder, the water a little chilly, and my lips a little dry… The days are keener to disappear, and Nature is ready to lie still for a while. And in that stillness is change. I can feel it building, here, there, everywhere.

Like wild gorillas?

Admittedly, I was less-than-impressed by Bruno Mars’ new video featuring his single, ‘Gorilla’ from his album ‘Unorthodox Jukebox’. The strip club setting, the spectacle of young men gleefully showering a half-naked stoned-looking Frieda Pinto with dollar bills did not really appeal to the feminist, morally correct side of me. I was left feeling disappointed that an artist like Bruno Mars should project women in such a manner so derogatory; surely he ought to have known better than to encourage the notion of treating women like objects for sex? I had worshipped him, such a ‘Directioner’ might worship a certain curly haired, dimpled Harry Styles (oh alright, alright, he’s cute. Very much so. Okay, a LOT.), and now I was left feeling wounded and sad, like he’d done be a personal disfavor, and I contemplated posting a harsh comment about it on his Facebook page (like he’d ever read it.), acting all snooty and pretending that I wasn’t at all insanely in lust with him.

But then, curiosity overcame me and I watched the video a second time (the better to scoff at it, I told myself), it was then that I noticed the intense, hungry way his eyes followed Pinto’s sexy stride into the room, the way his sweat glistened on his neck and forehead, and the slightly detached way he looked at Frieda for a split moment in the backseat of the car they were shown to be making love in.

I found myself getting into the whole atmosphere the song created: the dim lights, the pub crowd, the sexy beat, Frieda’s uninhibited dancing, and Bruno’s song, the way he sang it, and the way he watched Frieda as he sang…all of it created a little bubble for me right there, and I, to put it simply, got high off it.

The song didn’t seem remarkable when I first heard it, but after playing it on loop for a few times, it began to grow on me, and when I played it again the next morning, I had begun to sing along to it, trying to imitate Bruno’s sexy croon, and the way his voice flowed like a wild river, crashing upon the banks and lifting the listener to a height dangerously close to Nirvana.

Sex, like love, should be passionate, and you should do it when your other half feels the same amount of yearning you do for him/her. Now I don’t know how gorillas ‘make love’, but I’m sure the way their descendants do it isn’t that bad either, and it can turn into a pretty ‘wild’ experience, as highlighted by our Hawaiian Hotshot right here. Oh, Bruno.

The song is potent, you know, and as I listened to it for what seemed the fiftieth time, I found myself seeing flickering images of a certain person in my mind’s eye, all of which involved him, shirtless and looking invitingly into my eyes, as he sat on a plush bed in a room only illuminated by candles and this song playing none-too-softly in the background. I think that was a bit too much detail. Hey, I’m only a horny human.

I cannot fall out of love with Bruno Mars, even though there will always be 5 inches between us (I mean our heights of course.), and it’s his sensual voice which is growing inside me, my love for him which is increasing in volume, and his music, which puts me together at the start, and end of each day.