Sad

Nobody would want such an unpopular feeling, but sadness sometimes takes a big part of life. Perhaps it's because we wouldn't feel the extreme highs of happiness were we not to experience the depths of sadness. But it's a feeling I would trade for anything and everything. I just don't like sadness and the rest of its family, tears, sobs. You'd think the tears will never stop. But they do. And you're still sad. Which takes me to... therapy? If there is one rule in therapy it's that of working your way through your feelings, no matter how hard it is. But me in therapy? On the damn couch? Not even a grand old couch draped in silk and swathed by organza sounds attractive right now. Not even a girlie therapist who would throw a cashmere cushion as if it were a teenage pillow fight happening. Nothing seems right, not even Hagen-Dazs ice-cream in Belgian chocolate which never fails to cheer me up. No more couches, no more organza and no more ice-cream...Roll on Tuesday....

John 19:41

"At the place where Jesus was crucified there was a garden, and in the garden, a new tomb, in which no one had ever laid..."
No, I am not going all soppy on Jesus' crucifixion. I don't like it one bit and when some nutcases decide to dedicate a day to celebrate all the pain an honest man went through, I stay inside, put my TV on Living, and watch back to back Jerry Springer shows, or Maury shows, or Sex and the City. A far cry from all the blood and gore happening. Because no, I do not want to celebrate the barbaric murder of a guilty man, let alone an innocent man. I am not a big fan of the bible either, I prefer to read newspapers, novels, biographies and the odd magazine. But then again, from time to time, I need to listen to A. Lloyd Webber's version of John 19:41. It is a basic need, I need to listen to the poignancy of it all. It is beautiful, but you might cry. Or else, it never fails to make me cry. For a moment, all the silly day to day stuff I write about dissolves into oblivion and I can only concentrate on the existence of my being in life. It's therapy, which comes for free out of YouTube. Switch off all phones and just listen. It's one experience in life which never fails to get me straightened out, as screwed up as I might be sometimes........ http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wqDoLcORDwU

One dead bitch... Yeah!

It seems like Malta has become *the* country of wannabes. Wannabe this, wannabe that, wannabe singers... they seem to be mushrooming as fast as the potholes. The thing is, potholes are sad because they are for real and can be responsible for a lot of swearing. Wannabe singers are also sad because they are not for real but are also responsible for my lot of swearing... and my a lot of smiles, a lot of I-told-you-so's. And while I glare at the potholes, I smile candidly at these wannabes and tell them to go go go because I want to have one big festa inside. Yes I'm a bitch and I know it. But this particular wannabe also can also dangerously compete in the who's-the-biggest-bitch competition. She is a dangerous competitor, but not for a seasoned bitch like me. Because there is place for one bitch, one diva.... me. So this bitch has me worried for a whole week, I thought it was going to be hellishly uncomfortable. It was uncomfortable, for her, not for me. I was risking being struck by lightening because all this was happening in the house of God. But God knows that I might be a bitch, but I know my thing. So bitch one was waiting, in all her glory, dressed to kill and pouting to throw up. Bitch 2 was apprehensive but decided she was going to grin and bear it.. that's me. Not only did I grin, but I laughed and laughed and felt so triumphant that I could have jumped for joy. Because with all the pouting, bitch one is a wannabe, cannot sing to save her size zero life. And I didn't behave like a bitch, I tried encouraging her... to do even worse. Don't be scared hanini, belt it out sabiha, isa keep it up like that. Yeah right, I think she was shit scared, didn't feel an inch sabiha, and kept up the disgraceful thing she was doing. Me.. well, ahem, I'm the pro. I will never go wrong in my thing. I might not be a size zero, maybe I'm not a zero in anything. This size zero bitch was a total zero. And there are situations when beauty dissolves into nothingness and it's what you can do that matters. I wasn't struck by lightening, perhaps because it's a very forgiving God up there who knows that I have been patiently waiting for the truth to come out. It turned out to be one of my bestest evenings, for entertainment, for watching the pouting bitch wither and die. And I waited until I got out of God's house and punched the air in triumph. I told you so brother darling. Because there's place for only one bitch, and that's the wannabe bitch killed off for good. Feels great!