Head-ache & a bowl of noodles

August 8, 2012 at 2:27 am 5 comments

You know how once I started blogging, I blog! [atleast once more]. Here are some notes from an app by the same name on my phone. I call them “Knots of Wisdom [Not so of wisdom?] from a brain fractured”, fracturing at any rate. They are observations/inspirations/rants that occur to me in my daily walks; random thoughts that are either too short for a blog post, or too personal/political/racist to share with those among whom I live and work – and grab the occassional Thai appetizer with.

So grab that coffee, put those feet in a “saffa”/”nikel” or “mezefzefia” full of icy water and hit the “Continue reading” button.

In the interest of full disclosure, I feel these bits and pieces are my most honest “work” yet *smile*.


You know you are racist/homophobic/sexist about something when you try to defend it by bringing up “friends”. Like “I love black ppl, I got friends that are black”. I do it with gays and Chinese women. All of whom I have no problem with and got friends amongst. But don’t really love. Not by a long shot.

[Regarding cheeck-bones and Asian-eyes]: My face branches in, instead of branching out.

Last night I dreamt of steak.

All fear comes from trying to see the future. If you know what is coming, you aren’t afraid.

[Actual bus talk]
Driver, are u going to 3rd and pike?
I am, are you?
I would like to.
Well.. let’s all go there then. (Pause) Yeah. I have this——bus. Might as well use it (while we still have it).

The only difference between the crazy and the sane is contol (the ability thereof).

Walk around with the face you see in ur head, not the face you see in the mirror.

You think you are married and lonely? Try being lonely and lonely. Try not having somone to call you when you fail to keep your curfew. Try eagerly returning a call made while you were at work and hearing a spanish telemarketer prompter “por favor”ing you about some shit. Or getting psyched about receiving an email!.from wellsfargo!.asking you to fill a customer opinion survey!!

Black actors in olden times look proud and like they belong. Black ppl here look angry and suspicious. Timid. Eager to impress. Eager to show they don’t care if their “impressions” didn’t work. Like they will never belong anywhere.

You begun to get lost the minute u started doubting urself.

I told God that unless he gave me a man after my heart, I won’t stop smoking. “Just so you know”, i warned him, “You are putting cigarettes in my mouth. And if i end up getting a cancer, guess who is gonne feel real shitty about it?!”.

A fountain
Being skinny
Being pretty
Being loved
The voice of children
A boat
Wind playing with a girl’s dress

[On the bicycle-track at Elliot bay]: [By the way they huff] You can’t tell the dogs, from the humans, from the bicycles.

Kids don’t know why they smile for photos.

Or why we need to fix the house when somebody (the grand parents?!) is coming over.

I can only tell I am alive by my anger.

When u have a serious illness, the first thing you do is run to ur defense.

[A dead man from a scene on “Morvern Callar”]: His body was there. But he has left.

When he is nervous, he chews until his body vibrates. Intently looking infront of him, he stomps that gum like he is stomping grapes to make wine. Like he is a horse and the gum was the body of a deadly enemy. Like his life depended on it.

Don’t say “cheese”.

Fountains are angels having a party, or Massai-warriors putting a show for their [White] visitors. They call it “jumping to ur death”. Its more like “diving” [to your death].

A teeny tiny dog got really excited (quarrelsome, snippy) upon beholding this huge ivory dog, who was mild-mannered and pretty chill. Didn’t even give her a second glance (look her way), like he had so many things – other things- to worry about. Like he is too pre-occupied with the cares of the world -his!

All black people who go to the library aren’t there for the rest room.

[After “exercising” in the sun]: I looked like I was coming out of a sweat shower

My neck is too fragile for my brain.

Hell isn’t other people, hell is ur mind.

Dogs are like Chinese women, they would follow you anywhere if there is the prospect of food and if you are White.

Much has been said about men’s desire for a hero figure. Not enough has been said of men’s desire for enemies.

I used to march with pride and confidence. Now I gotta second guess my self so bad that riding downward escalators has become a safety hazard.

Ever wondered why healing wounds itch?

People in america are catered to. They are spoiled because there is always a possibility of “something being done about it”. They know: if its man made, there is a way it can be broken or worked around. Give them a minute. Be patient. Yichalal!

The possibility of a possibility, America is full of it.

The shoes looked like tatoos on her feet.

Is the wind like a man playing around you? Flirting? Teasing? Bear-hugging?

My emotions switch between fear and anger. Those are the only emotions I have. When I am afraid, I am unsure of everything. When I am angry, I can brow-beat everything down.

The righteous is always angry. Does righteousness justify anger?!

I am losing my anger. I no longer know who i am. Was anger the ground underneath my feet?

A man is checking a woman out, with her arms in her boyfriend’s, she thinks “aww… guys like me because I am with him”; and holds her man’s arm more warmly. A woman is checking out a man with his girlfriend’s arm in his, he thinks “well … hello!?”

How can a black woman kiss another black woman? Aren’t they sisters?

Walking and thinking. Thinking and walking. A man can walk and chew a gum. Can a woman walk and think?

[About my worries]: Nothing [a mere] breathing in and out wouldn’t fix.

There isn’t a greater compliment than seeing a guy rushing into the newly vacated tight spot on the side of the street to pick you up.

Is google God? There can’t be all these people taking their time to go on the internet [register, log in, type] to ask questions for situations and feelings I am going through!!

Imagine how my “Big Fat Greek Wedding” would go if it was scripted by a Hollywood writer. Tula would hide, or lie about, the “sitting hostess” he once saw. And at the end of the story the “cat” would come out of the bag and Ian would storm off to the airport (to fly to Winsconsin to his family, “he’s gotta figure this out. He can’t even look at her right now”) after screaming “You lied to me?!”. And her mother, or grandma, would hand her down an ancient wisdom. Tula realizes it was her insecurity that stopped her from “being herself”, she wipes off the makeup, gets rid of the contacts, and she would go after him, in a taxi chauffered by Nick. Her dad, literally, comes around in the nick of time, and steps into the cab after her saying something about family and honor. They make it in time. She screams something in Greece she’s been helping him memorize, Ian takes her back, and the airport luggage guy [who happens to be Greek!!] who got knocked off in the process would be picked and brushed off by Mr. Portokalos and a dash of Windex would be administered to his wound [to Tula’s horror] – making the spot magically dissapear [making her a believer in the power of Windex, and the frivolity of ignoring ancient wisdoms]. A perfect little skinny hollywood ending to a tremendous greek movie. And, like all small skinny things, dissatisfactory.

Our faith in technology is scarier than our belief in [a] God.

Entry filed under: Latest Posts.

Blogging [for the sake of blogging] – Western style* Breaking and Entering

5 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Wubet  |  August 8, 2012 at 7:10 pm

    the bus talk is great. πŸ™‚ —bus riders might get lost. haha

  • 2. Mazzi  |  August 26, 2012 at 1:56 am

    I had missed reading your blog Abesheet, and enjoyed this particular post of random thoughts. Quoting you on some of them. Hope your world is holding better than mine is on this end. Life a bit crazy as usual. Keep writing… we shall read even if we won’t be able to check all the time.

  • 3. abesheet  |  August 26, 2012 at 1:50 pm

    Maaaaaaaazzzzi. So good to see you. Missed your wise advice so much I re-added you on my gtalk the other day. Endet nesh tadia enatwa? Nuro ena timhirt endet eyaregush newu? Glad u liked them bits and pieces up there. I have been wanting to add to them but wasn’t sure if I should just scroll-down and type or create a “Sequel”. :-). Here is one more for your collection, on a subject you and I are so familiar with – hasab:

    My mind is like a ball angry kids are fighting over.

  • 4. Mazzi  |  August 28, 2012 at 7:50 pm

    Alehu Abesheet, yet ehedalehu bilesh. Just have not been myself lately to keep up with my online friends,blogs, and activities as much as I want to. But when ever I stop by you blog once in a while, still a joy to read your writing. I am sure you will have more and more of these random thoughts, and when you think you have enough, you should just put them in their own posts as sequels as you said. Each one may not be enough to make a blog entry, but are worthy enough to post with similar other thoughts. So I say you make a sequel. Hope all is well in your world dear, in spite of the general hardship. Shall visit more than I have, so please keep writing….

  • 5. abesheet  |  August 29, 2012 at 2:55 am

    Mesenbet newu wanaw, Mazziye. Atleast you got your health! (Right?!). Unless you don’t. Or, like me, you were on the verge of a break down. In that case, I don’t know what to say to you. I am getting anxiety attacks so frequently nowadays I am actually seeing a shrink for it (four sessions; three down, one to go; all expenses covered by my employer and would remain confidential — until I threaten to hurt myself or others. In which case they can go Guantanamo on my dark behind and throw away the keys). Ene, who would have put Dr. Phil to shame with my no-nonsense approach to anything emotional (and my trade mark “beTiffi malet neber”). Yet yidersal yetebale guto …. ale yagere sewu.

    It wasn’t directed to me but I gotta ask. Did something happen to Ababa Girma? If so, that is like the 4th death of a “simeTir” EPRDF member I am hearing of this week. Meles, Ababa Paulos, Ali Amoudi and the said aged ex-president, ex-playboy.

    I think the world is really coming to an end, sewoch. I knew that the night I watched those creepy masked-german white-supermacists flooding that dark alley with “chibo” in their hands. You would think though, won’t you, they can stay put until December 2012?! *sighs*

    Before I forgot Mazzi, here is one more “word of the day” for ur collection: As God said of abesha men, “Bearemamedachew tawQwachualachu”.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Trackback this post  |  Subscribe to the comments via RSS Feed


The blogger tries to think outside the box, or wonder why she sometimes can't.

Life quote:

"I will speak for you, Father. I speak for all mediocrities in the world. I am their champion. I am their patron saint." - Antonio Salieri, from the movie "Amadeus"

Recent Posts

Previous Posts

Books by Ethiopian Writers


Favorite books

My Favorite Podcasts

αˆ™α‹šα‰ƒ [Ethiopian Music]

Some classic Some modernish And some Yirdaw... When I need a ringtone When I feel nostalgic When I need poetry

Free & Abridged Audiobooks


August 2012

Member of The Internet Defense League

%d bloggers like this: