What’s the Worst Thing You can Step on in the Dark?

It’s not been the best week, so I’m grateful that it is Friday. Monday is the start of a new week and a new month. Historically February isn’t a good month for me; it brings with it many reminders that trigger deep bouts of sadness within me, but at least I know to expect them, right?

Anyhow, the inspiration for today’s post, comes from one of the pages I follow on Facebook. It had a post up today posing the question: What’s the worst thing you can step on in the dark?

I can think of quite a few things…

A really bad one for me would probably be one of those hairy rain spiders we get in the Garden Route of South Africa…

…or a (Cape) cockroach, or a Parktown Prawn. In fact, stepping on anything insect or arachnid is enough to give me the willies. Have you ever looked at a cockroach up close? They have little barbs on their feet that hook on your skin if they walk on you. I swear, I threw up in my mouth just thinking about it. I know there is probably a scientific answer for this, but do cockroaches actually serve a purpose? Other than freaking the shit out of people, and surviving a nuclear holocaust, I mean.

Other gross things I wouldn’t want to step in regardless of the colour of the sky outside are any things that smells bad. I retch at the mere whim of sour dairy products. My goddaughter, Lily-Rose was still a teeny tot when I was bouncing her on my knee, and she puked all over me. I handed the teary-eyed little one back to her mother and hauled ass to the bathroom where I myself chucked up. I spent the rest of the day in my dressing gown, because I didn’t have another spare change of clothes, and I avoided even picking Lily-Rose up again. Dog shit is another thing I hope I never step into with bare feet. I remember stepping in it with takkies (SA colloquialism for ‘sneakers’) as a child and not wanting to wear them again, despite them having been laundered in the washing machine.

If you think stepping on a Lego is sore, you’re an amateur. In South Africa, we have thorns called duwweltjies.

They belong with the higher classification of the ‘puncture vine’, which in my opinion, is accurate; when you step on one, it not only punctures the sole of your foot (sometimes through your shoes if the soles aren’t think enough), but your whole body winces for a second. They hurt so badly, even the dogs walk on three legs if they step on one.

Come to think of it, after watching Bones reruns for the umpteenth time, I’d rather step on any of the above, rather than human remains – the odour of the putrefaction will have me vomiting out an entire week’s lunch, the maggots might have spider or roach friends (or both!) and I’m likely to fall face first into a jab of thorns.

BONES: L-R: Emily Deschanel and Tamara Taylor in the “The Secret in the Service” episode of BONES airing Thursday, May 26 (8:00-9:00 PM ET/PT) on FOX. ©2016 Fox Broadcasting Co. Cr: Patrick McElhenney/FOX

Day 123: Wyn vir die Pyn (Wine for the Pain)

If there was a Pandemic Prevention Olympics, South Africa would be on the podium taking gold medals by the barrel full. We’ve had the longest #Coronavirus lockdown in the world.

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Day 47: Nightmares on Not-Elm Street

I’ve been plagued with nightmares the past few nights. I’m not sure if coronavirus lockdown is getting to me, or if I’m receiving a message from a Higher Power.

Sometimes I wake up shivering yet drenched in perspiration. It means having to take a shower, change my pajamas and bedclothes in the middle of the night. It’s not a fun task, but as I stand under the often-almost-cold water (because I don’t run the hot water cylinder all day, every day), I don’t remember the dreams, I just know they were unpleasant.

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Solitary Confinement

(Image from:  indybay.org)

Alone with my Thoughts

I’m not my worst enemy

I’m a prisoner, an unwilling hostage

Confined by thoughts of despair and solitude

Incarcerated in the darkness of my regressive mind

Images cloud my tired mind

Some strikingly clear, others somewhat hazy

Slivered light – Dawn signals a new day

Not enough to fend off my mind’s tricks

The mildew of indescribable sadness

Fills my nostrils, making me gag

My heart aches, but no tears fall

No-one hears the silent screams of my misery

Dampness clings to my cheeks

Tears have escaped, during my sleep

I’m alone. No Love to cover me

My vivid imagination my only hope of freedom

Seated on the slimy mattress

I contemplate jumping into the chasm

At least there I will be free

Thoughts…they won’t be able to harm me

There is no prison warden

With an evil grin, nor the keys

Only I have the means to leave

I need strength to fight the loneliness