It'a 12:35 am.
I should be snoring in bed.
Tomorrow I'm gonna wake up unamused.
So not looking forward to work.
Boring old mantra.
I've whined about that a lot today.
Not good, not good;
Here come the quitting blues.
Damn tired of quitting now.
So this outta be the very last.

And here I am with an empty belly
And an uncreative mind...

And then you get to a point in life
This point in life
When you cease to want
You cease to desire
That's what Ghana does to you,
But then again it's life,
It's life that does you in.

Something has happened to me.
I'm not wanting anymore.
I'm not even afraid of not wanting anymore.
I'm just not wanting anymore.
It's like a man looking into the eyes of that beautiful dream girl
And not feeling the passion that comes with desire.
What happened?
Don't you want her?
Aren't you attracted?
What happened?
Oh damn, what the heck happened?

I never get the things I desire.
And so I've crushed desiring.
I let opportunities roll happily by;
And gaze away from lovely dreams,
Knowing the whole while I'd die for a taste.

But you see,
It's like this:
When they know,
I don't get.
When they don't know,
Then I get, oh but wait,
Not always, not always.

Unleashing my desires,
Kills all of theirs.
A country of contradictions.
My world of opposing forces and magical dreams.
And so I quell these lustful eyes.
And tone this silly, passionate heart,
And let the dream believe I'm dead.
Oblivious of their tasty lure.

And I've said this above.
Sometimes they get the hook
And pursue some more.
But then sometimes shit happens:
And shy dreams float unhappily away;
Or dreams play peek-a-boo!
And bliss is lost to me.

I'm hungry I need a meal.
Too lazy, I'll let it slide.
There's something awefully wrong with me.
I just don't know what it is.
But I've stopped desiring
Because of denying
And I've become a silly old bore.

Emos Ghanaian men,
Nothing makes them happier
Than to piss a strong woman off.
Insecure rumbling, fumbling fools!
So do you give them the pleasure?
Sure.
It sets you free too. Or no?

The complexity is this:
When Mr. Ghanaian Man,
The Eternal Idiot,
Tries to piss me off
By exercising his superiority
I tune off.

I've mastered this skill well.
I tune off. No singal.
So he can't reach me.
He can't tell whether he's getting to me or not.
He starts to guess, by the indifferent expression on my face...
Is she angry? Have I succeeded?
Am I being stupid? Do I know what I'm dealing with?
No you don't Mr.

You don't know that as you fool,
I watch you, I play along,
All the time picking your cues
Figuring out your game.
Once I figure your game. (and that's always easy)
I wait for the opportunity.
Even better, I create the opportunity.
Then I play you back.

And I play hard
I play unfair.
I make you pay for all the shitty moments and more.
Oh yes, I make sure to leave my evil mark on you,
So you don't forget.
So you don't come near me again. Ever.

And if you so much as do,
That will be your last, Mr. Ghana-man.
Your last time of messing with a woman.
A woman like me!

When you feel the tears building up in the office,
Turn the emotional tap off.
It's not a fair world.
We all know this.
But you must only give people
One chance to mess with you.
One chance and that's it.
And this promise I swear solemnly to myself:
I WILL NEVER GO INTO ANYONE'S EMPLOYMENT
AFTER I QUIT THIS JOB IN DECEMBER, 2009.
Mark this date.

Two disrespectful pimples
squatting contentedly on
my left temple,
refuse to budge to my pressure
to pop and ease out of their cocoons.
And there they sit a-swollen,
and as painful as a pinch!

And if I was rich and bored and sad,
I'd call an escort service tonight,
the classiest there ever was in town,
and ask for the best they've got.

I'd say i didn't care a hooting lot
if the person was male or not.
I'm just in need of good looks and wit.
And then I'd pay for whatever
and open my doors to whoever,
and point them straight to my bar.

And then I'd watch them make us drinks
and ask them to tell me about them.
And if they were smart,
they'd look at me and ask:
What do you want to know?
And I'd say Everything there is to know.

And if they were interesting talkers,
I'd pace and listen to their chatter.
If they turned out to be such complete bores,
I'd cut it short,
pay them their due
and kick them outta ma house.