Growing up, I was always this bat shit crazy kid, the noisiest in class and most likely to get into trouble. And man did I get into trouble. Call it a “bad girl” gene or syndrome...call it whatever you may. Maybe I was dropped a lot when I was a kid, maybe my mum was smoking some illegal cheap paraphernalia in the 80s when she was pregnant…Yeah, don’t we all blame our mums when we are all grown up and screwed up? Talking to some therapist and trying to blame our dead beat tendencies on our parents…Well, at least that’s what happens in movies.
Anyways, I had my share of crazy when I should have been young and adorable. But maybe my radar of lunacy doesn’t measure up these days. Not with kids nowadays doing all manner of jaw dropping juvenile shit to make my share look desperate for attention. I am sure skipping school every other day
of the week is nothing these days. How about skipping school when you are twelve and boarding a matatu to go “nowhere” in particular just because you can? Crazy enough for you? I don’t think so either.
But back then, I thought I was the “ish” (People still say that…right?) I was the “illest” I loved the thrill, the Adrenaline rush of being “bad” or just the idea of being a little bit off. Skinny little thing convincing other kids to skip classes only for them to snitch on me to the teachers. Those little suckers. Talking of teachers, most hated me for making their lives miserable and some thought there was some good, however little in me. Like I could be redeemed if I was caned hard enough or if they called out my name during those maddening “parade” sessions I would be embarrassed enough to leave my wayward ways. Boy were they wrong. I was Michael Jackson bad….Lame, huh?
I thrived in chaos. Normal was boring, bland. Argh! It wasn’t bad enough if I didn’t get my ass whooped for it. Tragedy was, I wasn’t a good liar to cover up my tracks. I couldn’t get away with anything because no one would believe I didn’t do it. If I opened my eyes too wide, I was lying, at least that’s what my mum used to say before hell rained on me. I guess I have one of those faces. Or I had. I am getting older. Not with lying. You see, this face isn’t what it used to be. Time happens and what do you know!
Why am I writing this again…..You see, I took some painkillers because I had this nasty ankle sprain and I was feeling kinda loopy, you know, in the zone and I started to think, “What happened to the good old days? Or bad days if you were my mother or my teachers, or those friends that I aaaaaaah…..led astray? I think astray is a monstrous word. Sounds like I am solely responsible if they end up in hell. How do I put this delicately (don’t you just hate it when people say that?) Say …added some colour into their insipid lives even if for some hours?
The pills are wearing off…..