I went for another international students birthday bash yesterday.And yes I enjoyed the alcohol but and this is a big but I didnt get drunk.I instead did things the way I like to, drink lots of beer slow but sure and take breaks to talk,dance and flirt.When I do this I don't get drunk.I just get buzzed and go to sleep buzzed and it is 11 am I am going to the gym and I am still buzzed but no hangover at all (and that is how it is meant to be).
I was talking to some white girls yesterday and I told them about how my pal had been shot.I also told them that I miss him and that I was not going to cry so they said that they would cry for me.Not true, I and most African men cry; we just don't do it in the open and we don't admit to it.In my case I put my grief at arms length, I fight it and then I choose a night to be alone and to wallow in it.I listen to my melancholic music,I drink at times,I remember,I weep my tears then I let my grief fade away like the ghost of one loved who has found peace.I stop loving what is gone, I believe in carrying on even if I miss what is gone and embracing what I still have.Because as one of my melancholy songs says;
life carries on in the people we meet,
through all the faces we see on the street.
In the dogs and cats,in the flies and rats.
In the homes we reside in,
Life carries on and on and on.....
So if you ever get to know me personally and something goes wrong and you don't see my cry.It's not because I let my grief grow like a tumour in my heart to the level that it sears away my humanity.No my grief is mine and mine alone.For everyone I will be strong then I will find a place and time for myself to be human and to be weak.I grieve but you will never know, that is who I am.....
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