Wahalalafia (Pt. 3)

I was manic yesterday. I suppose it was the two strong cups of coffee that I imbibed, partly to reduce my appetite. (Yes, I'm trying to lose weight) and to send Dick the Depression away, wasn't really the best idea. Anyway, it is what it is.

With Brenda Fassie blaring through my headphones (Reader, check her out, she was a fudging amazing South African singer) I did feel on top of the world. Now with Wahalalafia, we tend to have an overactive imagination. I can only speak for myself though. In my manic state, I do feel exhilarated, uplifted, I closed my eyes, rolled with Brenda's rhythm, and lifted myself into cloud 9. I tell you, reader, I don't need drugs.

Manny Mania made me turn up the volume, bump and grind, wind around and not care but for the rhythm itself. Fellow Wahalalafians, do you notice that you guys either really appreciate music, or find that you can make the best music, or dance the best at parties or even the kitchen table?

We release so well. I think that's why we are so sensitive. Trust me, the best dancers, singers, and performers, tend to have the worst emotional issues.

Amy? Whitney? Jimi? I also find that we know how to express our emotions. I know the best writers and singers translate their Wahalalafia into music. Nina Simone didn't want to be misunderstood. Remember, she said Baby, sometimes I'm so carefree, with a joy that's hard to hide (Alafia). And sometimes it seems that, all I have is worry (Wahala). I.E. Bipolar (or cyclothymia) What's fascinating is the power of music and bipolar.

Fellow Wahalalafian, I don't know about you, but I find that it's not just about listening to music, it's also about understanding the music. Sometimes, music has a language that only a few people understand and can speak.

There is an African instrument, called the Talking Drums. The gift that we Africans have is that we understand rhythm. We understand what it means to not just dance, but move to God's rhythm. Do you know, reader, God has a rhythm? David in the Bible understood when he stripped off his clothes and just danced before God. Did he have the Spirit? Wahalalafia? or both? Who knows.

Anyway, I digress reader. Talking Drums. The aspect of drums talking is not that bizarre. Music, rhythm, it speaks. It tells you to dance, and it tells you when to be still. It tells you when to laugh, and when to cry.

Mother Music is always present. We may not have that much, but if we know we have music, we know we have hope.

I saw a homeless woman the other day dancing. I knew she must have had some kind of mental health issue. Unfortunately, some don't get enough help in time, and it costs them their livelihood.

What fascinated me, is that despite her homelessness and hopelessness, she danced. Her eyes sparkled. She was lifted. Mother Music lifted her up to the skies. Maybe other drugs helped. She was no longer alone. Poor but rich. Now, isn't that fascinating? One thing about music, is like food, it is a thing that all different types of people, can share in one place, at one time. There is no barrier, nothing stopping the enjoyment of the breakthrough.

I feel a bit down now. The crash has arrived. I'm feeling a bit low, and feel like sleeping.

Isn't that weird, reader? One minute you have no energy to even lift a finger, then all of a sudden Mother Music pushes you out of the bed, onto the floor to worship her in dance and the cycle continues.

So bizarre. Well, life is I suppose.

Wahalalafians, what do you like to listen to? Well, now I'm being exclusive. Anyone and everyone can appreciate good music man.

Also, I suppose it burns a lot of calories. I find having Wahalalafia, is a bit of a catch 22. Food is life, and you burn it all off in your manic state. (This is unique to me by the way, and by no means is the story of any other person who has Wahalalafia.)

Anyway, enough talking, less sleeping. Mother Music will call soon

(Full stop left out deliberately. Again)