I write for an outlet, just a chance to vent really. The pieces that I’ve written haven’t had anything in the way of sophistication or depth, and they’ve always been straight from my mind to paper, so to speak.
I’m not saying that this time is any different, I am still writing unfiltered, without drafts or a premeditated structure, but I will be reviewing this before I publish, so here’s hoping it’s better.
If you’re wondering why I am not more thorough in my preparation, let me explain, I’m lazy. That’s something I’ve always been and something that will probably never change, I would consider it a character flaw but it’s always led me to finding shortcuts in processes and that’s made my use of time more efficient.
I’ve gone off track, I’m sorry, that happens a lot.
Back to my original purpose, creating carbon dioxide for trees and throwing sarcasm at those that can handle it, why aren’t there more of you? Trees yes, as well as those lovely, sarcastic individuals that always seem to give me the best conversations, you are appreciated and if we haven’t spoken in a while, whose fault is that?
But you know what’s funny? A whole lot of things.
It’s funny how I can walk home from work after finishing late at night and get home safely, without a worry in the world but still be worried out of my mind when my sisters or mother is out at any time of the day.
It’s funny how I can go about my business during the day and not be bothered by anyone, whether it is simply to harass or something more sinister, but my female relatives and friends can’t.
It’s funny how I can walk into a shop and get greeted nicely by the staff, but a fellow Papua New Guinean receives looks of suspicion, simply because we’re not dressed the same.
It’s funny how when I’m walking around late at night, or out on a run, I’m more afraid of the police than anyone else.
It’s funny how sometimes I get wary looks from females pedestrians simply because we’re walking on the same stretch of footpath, and there’s no-one else in sight.
It’s funny how we all seem so adamant that others follow the rules, but feel comfortable bending them just a little bit for ourselves or someone we know.
It’s funny, but then again it isn’t’.
Because every single little thing adds up, I believe that even though I don’t believe in karma, or that anything even happens for a reason.
It’s funny how people like to categorise themselves as one or the other, an optimist or pessimist, when that is really never the case. It’s funny how I do that, and it’s funny how I always tell people I’m an optimist, it’s funny how I’m not.
The world is an ironic place, for some reason we treat expatriates like they’re better than us when they’re in Papua New Guinea, but what happens when we go to their countries?
It’s funny how I got a lot more thought out of this than I put in.
It’s funny how I don’t think you’ll get as much out of this that I did.
It’s funny how I still hope that you do.
Yugen 