Heaven and hell

Swines, swine flu, swine fever. It's all over the place. And I should worry. But I'm not worrying. My mum says that I will be the first person to go under the grim hands of this flu because of my unhealthy lifestyle. I don't think so. And if so, so what? They will just give me anti-viral tablets and fat injections and I will live to tell the tale. Somehow I think that if the Black Death had to come along, it would probably claim a lot of people, and let me go. Not because I think my royalty has anything to do with it. But because I am convinced that there is yet more to go. Yet more sadness to go. So I'll be left weeping and burying everybody, and everybody will be partying in heaven while I will be rotting away on a hell on earth. The thing is that heaven won't have me and hell is scared that I'll take over. I do not know why I keep staying alive. My mum thinks I should be thankful. But should I? If we are here on a journey which leads to a perfect life, then why are we going to such great lengths to preserve ourselves? Why quit smoking if it cuts ten years off me? It will mean I get myself faster to the perfect life, be it above or below. So that should be a good thing. But then would I really find a size 24 coffin? That's another problem. And if I decide to get cremated, will my ashes fit in a normal urn? No I don't want a normal urn, I want a pink pretty urn. I guess I'm tired and my mind fails me, or perhaps it's a vey odd mind, probably the cause why they won't take it on heaven or hell.

The Vile Twin

So it's exam time. And this is one time when I don't feel sorry for the little people. We had it much much worse and we survived. We had so many less learning aids, and yet we survived. I come out of the era which thought that Tippex was the world's best invention. I may have a very failing memory due to my coming old age, but I do not remember a single pc in houses. And when I was ten, the only 'computers' available were massive ugly things which Dom Mintoff decided needed a licence. OK so my memory isn't that bad after all. Photocopies were something that ran off a gold mine, and not readily available, It was the time of the cousin of the uncle of the wife of the husband you know. That's how things ran. I,being brought up safely in a girl's convent seemed ok, until the then government threatened to close our school doors (which might have been a good thing). And I, without any training whatsoever had to sit for the infamous Junior Lyceum exam... just in case. I had never seen an examination paper before in my life. And yet I sat for it all. And yes just in case anybody is wondering I got straight A's. Yet I never made it to these new schools. I still stayed cosy with the nuns. I remember that year, school began on the19th of November, It was awesome, so many holidays. Kids were so excited on that Novemeber first day of school. I wasn't, because even back then, I hated school. And I hated same-sex school. That wasn't a very good idea either. Not because I wanted to see any bits and pieces of boys, I had my twin back home who was enough, but just girls can be extremely lonely. Girls tend to gang up on anybody they want to or like to. One friend, whose name I cannot mention because she is now a little bit in the public eye, once asked me this exact question... Aren't you happy that I'm your friend because I'm the prettiest? To which I answered, well then you must be over the moon because I'm the smartest. That was the end of the friendship. We still do not look eye to eye, really. Years later I still remember the question in disgust. We were 9 for goodness sake, and was it already about beauty? Geeze what a school. Along the years, the only things which made school worthwhile were some really caring teachers who loved me. Not because I was the smartest, but because they really cared. I was bullied because of one thing... my music and my precocious talent. Now, I read on facebook, they all list as music in their personal interests. Fuck them. And my dear friend wants me to go to a reunion. To reunite as what exactly? To remember the loneliness, the bullying, the being made to feel a freak. And of course I wasn't ugly, I see the pictures now and see a lovely girl, with a pretty face and lovely hair... as well as a lovely body... for once. Why did they make me feel an outcast just because I wore specs. I had really fine specs, nothing of the Harry Potter sort. Today, they all wear specs and think it's a fashion accessory. I don't think the problem was really me. At 13 we got to finally move location and I made 2 brilliant friends. Just 2 were enough. I would love to talk to these 2, but the rest? Humbug, I've done fine without them for the last 20 years. No I actually have done finer. I have to admit I am not exactly the outgoing type ARANI ISSA's presenter is known for. But then ARANI ISSA's presenter does not have a blog, cannot read an email to save his life.... and I still love him. Our bank accounts are extremely not similar but he makes up for it because he's far from stingy with his sister. It really seems that since he has no wife, he thinks I should get all the wifely presents. Of course, I will not open his eyes that somewhere in his psyche is a problem of perhaps extreme attachment. Would any girl do that when she opens up the ribbons and the box and finds the diamonds staring at her? No huh? I wouldn't think so either. And then there are his clients most of whom always bring a gift along and tell him.... ghandek xi haga ghall-mara!! Bingo, I am so glad there is no mara. Just me. As for his funny attachment, I think there's something even more wrong in my own psyche. I do not think I would have been able to cope if he actually had a wife. I would hate seeing my brother kiss another woman, hug another woman, embrace another woman, God forbid marry another woman. I think I would turn so vile, make their relationship impossible until they'd part for good. Perhaps it's the bond of twins. I can never understand how some siblings spend years not talking to each other. I would go nuts. My brother would go nuttier. It's a strange relationship we have. He is so grateful he has me, and I am so grateful I have him. Yet another lucky card thrown by Mrs.Fate. I have always understood the history books saying, united we stand, divided we fall. And that is just how it works, like a seesaw, well almost seeing that he'd have to use a lot of manpower not to defy my gravitational weight. Funny thing is we never dreamed of getting married and having kids. We dreamed about having our own home, just the two of us. Life of course changes, and the perspective of an 8 year old is different to that of a 35 year old. But the thought is still there. And just as he looks out for me, I will look AFTER him. And that still makes me the vile twin....and proud of it... and that is disturbing...