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Crystal Evans Books

“The idea that sex is something a woman gives a man, and she loses something when she does that, which again for me is nonsense. I want us to raise girls differently where boys and girls start to see sexuality as something that they own, rather than something that a boy takes from a girl.”

— Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie



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Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Lessons from my Landlord

I used to live in a delapidated, squalid apartment before I started publishing. I remember being ashamed of where I lived so much that i often hid my address from people. In my opinion nothing was wrong with the building. It kept the sun and the rain off my back and at nights I was warm and sheltered inside. I was more worried about what people thought about someone as talented as me living in squalor. I knew people unknowingly without question judged you by your residential arrangements or appearance. 

I am a liar if I said I didn't care about what society thought of me. I do but not as much as I did before. I've become committed to my own thesis that people spend their lives looking for weaknesses and strengths in others to highlight or pick apart. I deny them access by giving zilch regards to their opinions. People have a misconception about education as it correlates to wisdom. There are many educated people who cannot think for themselves. They blindly subject themselves to the second hand knowledge of others who they respect without questioning their ideologies. Nobody not me or Albert Einstein should force anyone to buy a philosophy that sounds fatuous or irrational. In this world you may not have a option in everything but you have an choice in how you think about life. Don't let anyone tell you how you should think or control your thinking. 

Conversely I've noticed many people swinging around this notion that talented people are worthless if they fail to maximize their potential. People often in their own misguided estimation to make something of themselves may murmur over the slow progress of those with perceivable great  pontentials but non-talented people are allowed to blame the imaginary systems that oppressed them and find comfort in being victims than admit that they are responsible for their own decrepit of a life. They are never held accountable for failing because they weren't bright enough but a brilliant man who becomes a failure should be dragged through the town in chains and hurled into the chasm of societal jails. 

They seem to believe that successful
People enjoy some kind of astral
Nepotism and gracefully move from one good experience to another without struggles or impediments. They are belaboured with misfortunes because they were maligned for failure from birth since they were not born with any special talents. Everybody is looking for a one way ticket out of their circumstances. Talented people are born with an advantage and those without talents endure an endless stream of unintentional mislucks. It is the grandest fallacy of the Jamaican minds. People who fail believe they are victims of a malignant oppression often unforeseen and those who rise above gain success through some form of assistance or favoritism. 

Back to my first apartment. 

I liked that old house. I learnt many a lessons around my computer listening to the squeaks of the mices in the ceiling or staring at the blank empty wall. I am grateful for the time I spent there. I am never one to hurl urine into the faces of those who buoyed me during my roughest voyages. I am eternally grateful for the bridges that take me from one ether to another because we are all great energies shifting from one plane to the next. For now I am merely grateful to be alive. 

I remembered one day the owner of the house came from abroad and vilified me with profanity over some misunderstanding with money owed for rent. I watched half abashed and amused as the lady in her rampage heaped ropes of feacea on my head. I will never forget the verbal onslaught, it was an eye opener for me. 

This lady was the type who you could tell had stumbled into success.  She had that Jamaican "frighten" aura about her, the pompous way she carried herself or how she spoke with bombast, You could detect by the subtle nature of how she interacted with  her peers that she somehow thought herself better than them. She was empowered by looking down on those who were spawned from the same dreary circumstances she came from. She was the first of many people I meet in this life who are like that, who granted a small rectal of an achievement bask around in arrogance and condescension from their own self made importance. You cannot be very important when you life is not worth more than that of the average man. 

She extended her contempt to
me. I get those despicable looks a lot when people appraise me with their eyes trying to figure out whether or not I am deserving of the talents they believe I have and in my humility must be undeserving of such inborn gifts. How dare me have the power of knowledge and treat it like it is nothing? It is same look my clients give me when they question the veracity or legitimacy of my businesses. Everybody believes success or talent ought to look a certain way and people like me do not in so far fit the archetype. 

I sometimes wonder if these expressions of disbelief or discontent stems from my appearance or where I am from, two things I believe I had no control over. I shake my head a lot at people who would have me hate my body or the way I look so that they can keep me trapped in their stereotypes. I pity those who spend their lives pointing out faults in others so that they can feel better about themselves. 

 They would rather see me miserable in this one body on my life's journey by virtue of their opinion. What about my opinion? I would like to think that what I think about myself counts as good as valid than anyone else. 
I probably think too highly of myself. In my naïveté, I see myself as being more than I actually am and it is society's duty to remind me of where I stand. 

Back to the story of this lady and her vitriol. I gave her the money for the fees she said I had incurred as a tenant and to my surprise she started handing out the money, I worked hard, selling herbalife products in the sun to procure those funds and she was giving it away  to various friends, all drunkards and rum drinkers while I wither away like a wall flower without a male admirer wishing I could disappear into the walls of the house. 

This lady made it clear to me that she did not want my money. It meant nothing to her. Why did she disrespect me in the process to get it.  She took it from me and gave it away like it was nothing was like rubbing salt into my wound ego.  I understood the principle she probably was trying to teach me but the uncouth behavior drench the lesson with negative emotion and vibe. 

What was intriguing was how my neighbors'would rather whisper in delight among each other than intercede the crudeness that this lady was subjecting me to.

Today I know my neighbors didn't know any better. They are like her. She's is like them. She has only managed to change her economical standards but given the opportunity she would roll around in the mud, tossing flecks into your face like them. I find no satisfaction in unnecessarily hurting people's feelings maybe that is the reason why I abuse my Facebook like button. It takes nothing to be civil, kind and supportive of others. We all go through life wanting to feel needed and valued by the people we come in contact with. It matters not much to me, nor do I consider it a monumental task to be nice to others even once in a while. 

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