hey, i have stories...

It doesn't matter that it's 7am and I’ve got a caffeine buzz and Bob Dylan has been shaking the walls of my office for an hour. It doesn't matter that it's so hot and not the kind that makes you sweat but the kind that sits under skin tugging at your mind like a kid that wants a lollipop.
But thank goodness Maputo weather is looking cooler by the day.

Three days ago I used the word reprieve in a conversation with a stranger talking about the heat. "There’s just no," and three dots past, "reprieve" I said. He paused and made a noise like a backwards explanation point and said that it was the perfect word to use and I know he was surprised to hear it…not what I said about the heat…but the word. To tell you the truth I had just learnt it from Thesaurus.com, I do that randomly searching for different ways of saying things, but I didn’t let him know that, of course.
For some reason I can't stop thinking about it, those three minutes out of a twenty four hour day, three days later.

Three days ago I went to have dinner with some friends and a conversation about my blog came up, and someone mentioned a conversation I had via facebook with my father, where he was pointing out the grammar or lack off on these blogs I write. And a lot was said between that table of friends, who were already on the 3rd bottle of wine mind you. Let me just go ahead and say that I’m not afraid to take criticisms, I consider them a crucial gear for personal development, with that said…I came to the conclusion that nobody knows what they’re talking about, and wine is a great conversation starter. But I do respect your opinions, you know who you are!

I saw a segment on National Geographic about wild wolves. Wolves that were cruising in a residential area. The word dangerous was used more than once but residents of the area were asked not to shoot the animal themselves but rather to call the authorities to do it for them. The female newscaster’s voice was like a headache. “Please,” I thought. “Stop acting like it’s the end of world”. You should hear a song called “The Wolves” by Bon Iver, it sings "solace my game - it stars you" and I think the wild things are a threat because they remind you specifically of love.

Three days ago you said "your eyes are golden tonight" and I would be lying if i said it didn't break my heart that they weren't ever golden for you before, or always. It’s a pretty word, golden. I looked it up and came across a question someone had posed, they wanted to know if golden was a color, they were questioning its existence, its absoluteness.
The answer they were given i read over and over, sitting indian style, the heat under my skin still tugging. "Golden is like saying "rainbow" is a color. Golden's rainbow is of the color spectrum from light brown to green to yellow to blue and various shades of these colors in between."

I guess it hurt when you said it because this is how i want you to love me, from light brown to green to yellow to blue.
I told you I have stories.


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