#0403 Musings

A blogger I follow called Dirty Sci-Fi Buddha very regularly publishes posts called “Musings”. They are short little snippets into a stranger’s mind but it’s also quite interesting to see that otherwise they could’ve been mistaken as a display of our own thoughts.
They are so relatable, simple and logically reasonable, it made me wonder about something Benjamin Zephaniah had talked about in an interactive session I went to.
“Everyone has at least one single thought that is completely original and has not been formed by another person.”
Quite thought provoking and inspirational, but the real question is how the hell are you supposed to know what thought that is?


#1101 Temperamental

You’re quick to judge and it ruins my day
I’m being serious… So stop laughing
It takes you forever to answer the question
I don’t want to answer but you seem to want to get in my business
Act like you know but you simply don’t… Not even the half of it
You become gossip girl and frankly I don’t give a damn
Bring up the past and I’ll probably hate you for a week
I’ve got a good vibe going, so stop trying to kill it
Who are you to downplay my motivation

Basically…. I was up for everything before you opened that mouth of yours

Things that y’all need to keep in mind this season

Exam season is upon us and you know you’re done for when you’ve just sat down, everything is silent and suddenly someone at the other end of the hall produces a deep, chesty and not to mention loud cough. It fills the hall and you look around for the source of it and slowly fall in your seat with your hands covering your face, knowing that this is going to go on for two hours. What’s worse is every now and then they become annoyed with their own cough and try to suppress it, which only results in a muffled strangled sound before they can’t hold it any longer and the cough becomes explosive. That’s enough pressure, without adding the constant sniffing of someone who had to have a cold at the wrong time in their life. I remember a couple of years ago, I had calculated the pattern in which this person had been sniffing and it was almost every 2 seconds. I wasted most of my time during the exam just waiting for the next sniff and then was most agitated that I was right on mark after thinking here it comes each time. I patiently hoped within those 2 seconds something would change, that the person would realise they were being so disruptive and at least ask the invigilator for a tissue. I mean, seriously, there is no shame in it if everyone’s grades are on the line. Exaggerative, I don’t think so. I’m not sure if this is just me being easily irritable but I always end up sitting near someone who begins to shake their leg impatiently half way through to the end and sometimes knocks against the table clumsily. This is not only infuriating because it sets me on edge, as if I’m running out of time and I need to hurry up but it’s just a really bad habit in itself. It makes you look like you have a weak bladder and doesn’t do good for your image, (although no one really cares for image when you’re sitting an exam but that’s besides the point) of course if you genuinely do have a weak bladder then just go to the toilet? If you do get up to go toilet, for heaven’s sake be quick and quiet about it. I’ve noticed that some people try their hardest not to be noticed which only turns out to do the complete opposite. It’s really quite simple. Get up, go, come back and sit. There is no need to do some weird lifting of the seat so that it doesn’t brush against the floor because you are most likely going to hit the desk behind you. Finally, two simple points that do not need expanding – don’t slurp your water, just drink it like a bloody normal human being and if you need help, whisper, the invigilator will most likely be next to you no need to shout. I’m not saying I’m perfect, I’m one of those people that accidentally knock my spare pen onto the floor because my desk is somehow always too small for me…Anyway, what I mean is y’all just need to be healthy and relaxed when you go into your exams, for your own and the rest of humanities sake. Maybe do some yoga.


Yours sincerely.

P.S. GOOD LUCK (If you’re reading this instead of studying…y’all need it)

Birthday Girl

We call her the Mother Hen, she’s calm, collected, with her feet firm in the ground. She’s the definition of what you would call ‘nice’ in every possible way, she tries her best to please everyone but it’s all in her own happiness. Yet she would never do something if she doesn’t want to and this makes her a role model. She breaks up the small quarrels and keeps the peace but if she thinks there’s something wrong then she will make it known and in the midst of us loud, troublesome group of friends she acts as our guide, so, we call her Mother Hen.

BUT the Mother Hen is just a side of her, that we assumed was the whole of her. No, if I have to describe Mother Hen, then I shall do it correctly, relaying what I have witnessed and what should be known. Mother Hen, has faults and flaws most of which are just clumsiness and sheer stupidity, but these are the hidden truths behind the mask. She’s the type of person that can make you believe so easily that what she is saying is right, you don’t argue. Then you realise that actually, she has no idea what she’s talking about. She likes to be a helper but, when she attempts to help it turns out more pear shaped. Oh God and when she says something she mostly always means the complete opposite. She’s not the perfect example of a well made woman, and she shouldn’t be, because she’s 20 years old. This is the time when one learns who they are and how they will live their life. so even if she can be the most hypocritical person I have met in my life, I wouldn’t have it any other way – Mother Hen is just boring, I prefer Swami. The Swami who is flawed and can turn things upside down within seconds, who is stubborn, over thinks a lot of stuff, leaves her essays till the very last minute, stays up so late she may as well be nocturnal, believes she’s a descendant of Dracula (she’s obviously not) and the Swami who I’m so glad to have gotten to known better these last few months. You are (positively) much more humane than a Mother Hen, and no matter how much the name suits you, or how much you love it, to me you’ll always be Swami… My clumsy Coventry buddy.

‘Happy Birthday Girl! – sincerely hope all your wishes come true!’

MunSun x

The Art of Waking Up

Most people understand when I call it as it is, the art of waking up. The minority that belong to the latter, I assume are insomniacs and rarely even get to enjoy the feeling of sleep before waking up from it, or you’re just plainly insane and have somehow trained yourself into being the robot that can do whatever you set your mind to. But I speak for those of us that, never mind how many hours of sleep we may be gifted to recieve, waking up is always the same inevitable struggle that you know will always be a habit unbroken.

There are several reasons as to why waking up in my opinion should be deemed an art form. Let’s begin with the ideology that art is for the less intelligent. Firstly, for any artists who are reading this, don’t be offended, as I consider myself somewhat an artist as I too can paint and draw etc… In the recent days I have – to my surprise – come across many people who seem to downgrade the art degree as useless, their main argument being that it will not have any significant impact on you future career and life. (Yes, why don’t we forget the fact that most high school level art projects were complicated enough for most of us non artistic lousy drawers and so degree level must be a dip in the pool right?) I see quite rightly why many people may think art degrees are possibly useless but you can’t deny that artists are just as skilled in their field as say a doctor in theirs and let’s agree for a second that if you were to put the professional in the other profession they would sure as hell be less good at it (unless you are an all round perfect human being, then you are dismissed, otherwise for this article pretend you are not.) So that being said, let’s revert back to the original topic, if we go by the belief that art is for the less intelligent then we can take the image of waking up being a less intelligent part of us all. We tend to awake from slumber at snails pace and our appearance isn’t the most flattering, I can happily say I don’t look the most intelligent when I wake up. Theoretically waking up should be easy, you are aware that if you don’t get up now you will be late and yet we act ignorant, which I could say is a pretty brainless thing to do. This sort of leads on to my second point.

While I say that art is for the less intelligent, I contradict myself and say that actually those who practice art are intelligent. My first piece of evidence being previously mentioned, that actually it can be quite difficult and the same goes for waking up. I’ve never found getting out of bed to be easy. It is probably the most hardest thing to do in a day. Simply put, it takes skill, perseverance, determination and a string of alarms one after the other. Some days can be easier than others, but they’re only easier, never easy, just like some paintings can be completed easily in comparison to others. So waking up, and completing a piece of art, works in the same way.
I just want to rant a little bit more about this point, because I feel that this is by far and probably the most obvious, sensible and straightforward relation to waking up being an art form. I want to reiterate that every morning, when your alarm goes off, you either don’t hear it and when you do, you sleep for a whole minute to five minutes extra before the next alarm goes off. You then slowly and painfully open your eyes, who am I kidding I don’t usually open my eyes until a good 15 mins after my alarm has gone off. By this time there is a little devil inside your head going through the list of reasons that staying in bed would make your life that tiny bit better. You’re pulling the covers over you even more because you suddenly feel how cold it is today. You lay there a good while convincing yourself you could somehow ditch the day of work or lectures and only God knows how you managed to suppress that little devil and managed to get yourself up and out. This however requires great skill. We are skilled artists. Now… For my final point.

Art is ugly. Not all art, but some art, and yet it can be accepted as art. This is an opinion, as I am told, because I am enforcing my views upon you. But I’m assuming that if you are reading this, then you are old enough to think for yourself. Anyway even if you are an artist I’m sure you have preferences of some types of art over others…  Again that’s besides the point.
Waking up from sleep is by far, probably the most ugliest face of yours and yet we seem to accept it because we know it is natural. Just like that one canvas in the gallery that you look at and say “a five year old could’ve done that, I could’ve done that.” (“yes but you didn’t did you, they did” is what you or someone else then replies.) It’s there, we don’t like it, we can complain about it but it isn’t exactly going to go away. Even the process by which you wake up can be ugly. Stretching, yawning, and making sounds you forget you could make.
Now I should probably stop here before I put you to sleep, so I will, but before you go, I hope that reading this has left you with one lesson and hopefully it is that waking up is truly an art form. Let’s make it acknowledged.


There are several types of the species, ranging from the soft to the brutal, but it is fair to say that all types can be fatal.

First you have the “soft”, these include the very simplistic, those who merely pass by a persons profile on a social networking site. For instance, Instagram, where there is the odd interesting photograph of a good looking male/female, or maybe just an exotic beach that entices your interest. Either way before you know it, you’ve been through pictures that were posted before your very own profile had been created… Harmful? It may not seem like it but there’s always the sudden heart stopping moment when you realise you’ve accidentally doubled tapped and liked that photo from say 2yrs ago and you’ve clearly and quite defiantly told them you have been stalking them but you pray with all your might that it isn’t true and if it is then let’s just hope they haven’t seen it. The rank becomes higher as you begin to like photos of acquaintances whom you don’t even follow or accidentally of those whom you don’t even like and then the list goes on

Naturally on the other end of the scale are the “brutal”. Those who prove to be a hindrance in your life, disturbing the peace and destroying your lifestyle. They go above and beyond the line of what is deemed socially acceptable behaviour and there comes a point where even a restraining order does not stop them from turning up outside your window and peeking in to watch your every move to which you begin to fear death is at your doorstep. I refer to them as they instead of you because I write in hope that none of you readers fall in to this scary category.

But then you have the “in betweeners” that are exactly that. The one’s who blend in, they go a bit too far for your liking and yet you wouldn’t go as far as to pick up the phone and give emergency services a call. They hang around leaving you in a confused state as to what you should do. If by chance an in betweener is reading this right now, you are probably unaware of the creepy person you have become so please continue and diagnose yourself so that you can finally leave people alone.
The in betweeners are shady because they look very much like yourself. Nor do they have the crazy look in their eyes as a brutal may have, or the embarrassed blush that a soft stalker would bear but rather they blend in. On the day when you sit alone in the cafeteria and your plate of food plays as your best friend, the in betweener will enter with an inviting smile to make you believe that you have got a friend in them. They may sit down next to you and begin with phatic talk but as they progress it becomes clear that their intentions are somewhat bigger than the innocent ones you had expected. They’ll somehow know about that visit your mother made to see you and the very first day they saw you. You probably don’t even remember them but they insist you shared a glance and possibly even waved and then when the conversation ends you feel exposed. They didn’t ask a single thing but there’s an eery feeling that they were trying to manipulate you.
A few days pass and you hear a knock on your door, and when you open it you see its them. The confusion runs through your mind, you don’t remember giving them your address and while you’re in this state they invite themselves in and sit down comfortably but you don’t remember even saying hello. They begin to talk and the only thing you can think of is how they came to know where you are staying and what they are doing in your room and when the conversation ends you realise that they spoke continuously without a breath and all of it was inconsiderably boring.

At this point you have grown a little stem of hatred and every time you see this person the stem grows larger and inevitably you avoid their very existence because you don’t want them to invade your privacy entirely and you want to make sure that they know this. However it doesn’t seem to have a strong effect because every now and then there is a knock on the door and you are absolutely positive that it is them so you never want open your door ever again and so the drama goes on – you’re trapped in a building knowing that you will not escape from the stalker until the holidays come around, relying on your friend to come save you every time they even remotely smile at you.

The message here is simply, do not stalk. If some demon has possessed you in making you believe that stalking will somehow help you make good friends, please find the goodness within you that will insist it is not. It may not be on such an extreme level but no body likes a stalker. Just say hi, ask how they are and let the friendship derive itself. Don’t force it.

Yours sincerely.

My Modest Proposal (Post Jonathan Swift)

It seems these days, there are a lot of things that don’t please individuals, groups and society in general. I have noticed that a lot more people are active in their opinions when talking amongst friends and acquaintances. Hearing these complaints out and about, around town and in another city, I feel that it is only right I spread some of my wisdom on the people to set their minds at ease. Let them know the thoughts inside my head. It dawns on me that many citizens are aware and concerned about the happenings around the world. Having watched the events taking place, on the news, in the newspapers and hearing it on the radio, it has come to my attention that people are rightfully worried that nothing is being done to help the people in need.
“This sounds interesting, tell me more.”

Well for you people I have a sweet, modest proposal.
“Thank God.”
Take it from me, I care for your constant worries that wake you from your sleep and block your dreams.
“So what do I do?”
It is quite simple really and it asks from you the bare minimum movement but results in outstanding relief. I urge you to sit in your living room on your comfortable leather sofa, recline the leg rest – oh but before you do this , by all means venture to your kitchen where you can choose from your handmade deluxe mugs, there, that one. The one with the hand crafted, knitted mug cover that helps the mug fit perfectly in your smooth hands and makes it look so beautifully warm and cosy, that looks perfect
Now pick your most expensive coffee and brew yourself a hot cuppa. Have you done this?
Good. Now you can take yourself back to the luxurious leather reclining sofa. Whilst you sit back, lay back, be comfortable, so comfortable you could fall asleep.
“Now what?”
Turn on the T.V and flick to the channel of your choice. I say your choice but really the programmes like The Only Way is Essex is probably a wise choice. There is nothing better than watching the rich invest, for this will help you somewhat in deciding what to invest in later on.
“I agree.”
Now if by chance a poor African child staring at you with a single tear rolling down his cheek shows on the screen,
“Oh, God, he’s here, he’s here, I hate watching this.”
Then immediately change the channel.
I say this with the utmost sincerity and say so for your benefit. Change the channel to something more uplifting.
Although this may sound like an atrocious thing to say or even do for our civilised beings and if you fear that you may conjure up some guilty conscious by doing so, then keep listening for let me continue by saying even before your poor brains are given so much as a chance to feel this guilt, switch the channel. Or even better yet, turn the T.V off for a while.
Yes, let me reason… By doing this, you will not have even seen the issue,
It will never have crossed your mind and therefore you will not be forced to talk about such things in the social meetings and you will no longer feel pressure that people are not doing anything to help because you will have no knowledge of the situation. You will feel more at peace, but for God’s sake do not watch the news, or read the newspapers, or even listen to the radio! Refrain from doing such activities that will bring you into contact with the world affairs.

If you are smart enough to follow my instructions, in no more than 3 days, you will notice that you will no longer feel this burden that no-one is helping those in need.