I'm bored and hungry right now, after taking a break after doing some radio work. I may get this job. Who knows.
I’ll make some food in a minute. Now, I’m talking to someone on an app on which we talk about what goes on in our heads. There are many Wahalalafians out there! Of course, reader, I’m not going to tell their names for privacy.)
I really find it extraordinary that people can connect as one with shared experiences. This really is an amazing app. Just so heartwarming to share your stories. Funnily enough, some of my closest relations know nothing about this blog. What I wonder is why is it that it’s so easy to open up to strangers but difficult to open up to your nearest and dearest.
Maybe it’s because relatives have a specific perspective, of who you are, and what you do, etc. Now Nigerian aunties, sometimes have an opinion on EVERYTHING! Ironically though, my therapist is a Nigerian sweet lady, lol.
She approaches the issues from a medical perspective. I know Wahalalafia is more of a medical issue, rather than a “spiritual” issue, a “physical” issue or whatever.
Sometimes, because it’s invisible, seldom do people really understand Wahalalafia. Some people “exorcise” it, some people pray it away, pepper it away. (With LOADS of pepper). Pepper is a staple in every Nigerian household. Some people smoke it out with weed and cigarettes. Some drown it with drink, and bury it with food!
But it’s always there. My therapist and I talked about the fact that I wanted to cure it, but I realised, well t to be honest, it’s never to go away. Stephen Fry, a famous Wahalalafian, asks fellow Wahalalafians, whether they’d be interested in getting rid of the mental condition, to which 9 out of 10 says no. When I ask myself the question, if I could get rid of Wahalalafia, I’d say hmmmm... no. You know normal is so scary and boring to me. A part of me wants to be conventional, have a 9-5 job. (Well, this is not impossible,) but be normal. Do what is expected, but I know I’m too unique to go to the rhythm of the world. I’m too weird.
Weirdness is something I’m no longer afraid of. Some girls at school told a pupil that they didn’t like me because I was ‘weird.’
The funny thing about fitting in is that when you try to ‘fit in,’ their weirdness makes them even stranger and destacar-stand out. A scene in the ridiculously funny IT crowd, where Jen invites the gang to her singles party, asking them to be ‘normal.’
Normal. I mean, what does normal actually mean? Who set the rule of normal? Was is Norman the Normal?
Honestly, keeping up with normal is taxing, tiring, and burns too many calories for me.
Anyway, yeh. Speaking of which, I’ve never been normal but I’m happy.
Reader, give me your definition of normal. Tell me what makes one person normal and another weird.
The people we look up to or look down on—are they weird, normal, strange bizarre, or everything in between?
What do the people who we consider normal do? Do they do what is expected? Do they laugh or cry differently to us? Do they dance differently?
I personally find that I get on really well with weirdos. Normal people to me are okay though, but some are up their own behind, or don’t like me.
Though I have many normal friends to be fair.
I know one guy. Cooks as fudge, but definitely has a spark. (No, reader, he’s not my type.)
Anywhoo, hungry as fudge. Getting dizzy and excitable. Happens when I’m hungry