A gun wasn’t held to my head. No, this was a threat that was entirely different.

It was 9a.m. I had just finished a grueling maths class and I was dreading going for the next lecture. Exams were coming up and there was a lot I needed to learn. While I struggled to gather my thoughts, I was interrupted by a stern voice that said:

‘You are going to sleep in 15 minutes’.

I looked around fairly startled. I was in what i thought was an empty room with no windows. Nothing had changed. The room was still empty, and noone was in sight.

‘You are going to sleep in 14 minutes’. It was the same stern voice I had heard the first time; only this time it came with one minute less.

2 minutes later, i realised where the voice was coming from. It was coming from me.

There are only a few things that scare me, but as it turns out, nothing could be more frightening than the realisation that my body was speaking to me.

’12 minutes’

I needed to get out of here.

I attempted to stand. Even though i was upright it was a lame attempt to say the least. My legs felt like they were about to give way, and whats more, somehow i knew that they would cease to function in exactly 12 minutes.

I wobbled towards the door flinging it open with the little strength i had left.  Staggering into the hallway i looked around for a familiar face. My house was only a brisk walk from school, but i knew i was going to need some help to make it back in one piece.

’10 minutes’

I was running out of time. I could feel various parts of my being shutting down in tune to what i could only describe as my body clock.

I was on my hands and knees with one half of my body trying to drag the other. By then I had 4 minutes left and i was in danger of collapsing on the side of an empty road.

Looking up i was fortunate enough to discover that my only functioning half-closed left eye could recognise a building that looked vaguely familiar.

‘Warning, you have 2 more minutes’.

With 2 minutes left I fumbled my way into the building and opened the first door I could find.

Before I could gather my thoughts on what to do next; I blacked out.

…….to be continued.

Most of us never really stop to consider the long term effects of some of the drugs we take. We are eager to attain short term relief without taking into account the many effects these drugs may have further down the line.

Aspirin is one of the most popular drugs in the world, with over 40,000 tonnes of it being consumed every year. When one has a headache, or any other seemingly unbearable pain, the first thing we reach for is aspirin.

Aspirin is prescribed for anything from reducing fevers and pains, to lowering the risk of a heart attack. The only problem with these wonderful advantages is the fact that it has been recently discovered that aspirin in the long term can make you go irreversibly blind.

What is even more shocking about this news is the fact that this applies to those who take aspirin as few times as ‘once’ a week.

As time goes on we seem to discover an increasing number of detrimental side effects to commonly used medicine. One cant help but wonder if these negative effects were known and ignored in the first place, or if the adequate amount of research was neglected in favour of pharmaceutical companies making short term profits.

50 years from now it isn’t unforeseeable to think that half of us will be regretting the medical help we sought; after new research and discoveries reveal that the reason why we are dying, is because the cure is killing us faster than the disease.

This may or may not apply, but as Katt Williams once eloquently said: ‘Aspirin is  perfectly legal, but if you take 13 of them mutha$!&$ that would be your last headache’.

Men are without a doubt the most promiscuous of the two sexes. Women can go significant periods of time without needing to experience sexual relief; and episodes such as periods, giving birth and menopause play a role in limiting or changing their desire to do so in any case.

Men really don’t have to deal with such barriers.  Sex is a subject that generally speaking can be brought up at any time of the day and it wouldn’t be a problem. An exhausting day at the office is not enough to eliminate the desire of ‘getting some’ before going to be bed.

I wonder though about what the mental impact would be if men went through a similar thought process as women.

I mean, women must always have that thought plastered at the back of their mind somewhere;’What if I get pregnant?’

I know there’s all kinds of contraception now, but every single one of them come with their own risks, reliability and long-term consequences – most of which women are left to deal with on their own. 

But what if the roles were switched?

Would it have a massive impact on the attitude of men towards sex?

What do you think?

It’s always good advice to be told to question every desire, because its easy to forget that deceiving ones self is the easiest form of deception.

The media has helped to create a world where recognition has become a not so subtle addiction that we feed on and hunger for everytime we are served with a new plate.

We crave the acknowledgement of achievement because we see no value in genuine deeds that go unnoticed.

With every good gesture a star is born, and a new reality show pays homage to the drug of society.

It’s clear that the reason we want recognition so badly is because we need it to validate who we are, or so we have been made to believe.

Think about it. Are you really a good singer if nobody else, but you, knows that you can sing?

Not one person has ever heard you sing. No one has ever smiled at the sound of your voice, or closed their eyes as you lullabied them to sleep. There is no one. Absolutely no one can authenticate your singing ability; because no one has ‘ever’ heard you sing.

Now tell me. Can you sing?

It’s a difficult question to answer, or at the very least an interesting point to consider.

As time has gone on the desire to be recognized for something; anything; has been amplified. The media has replaced the belief in our own virtue with the perception that what we really need is public acceptance and appreciation.

That is why the pope washing prisoners feet is a humble deed, done in full view of the entire world.  It really doesn’t get more ironic than that.

We have become addicted to honoring and chasing after recognition because we fail to recognize that the burden even exists.

That is why I say it is good advice to be told to question every desire. You don’t know what part of you is going to deceive you next.

Love has come to be the proud and somewhat reluctant owner of many definitions; one of which likens it to a ‘fairytale’.

In today’s world the reality is that there are quite a number of other things to think about before love is even considered. After all, love doesn’t put food on the table and it doesn’t pay the bills.

Men these days seem to be well aware of this predicament, which would explain why every single, jobless graduate is waiting to be financially settled before they begin the next stage of looking for a wife.

It makes me wonder if they are preparing to marry for love or because they think that’s ‘the next thing to do’.

You know the drill. Go to school, get a degree, get a job, get a car, get married, get a kid, get a kid, maybe get another kid. Any other order to this equation just isn’t socially acceptable.

Some might say that love is a waste of time, and it doesn’t make sense wasting time looking for something that is a waste of time.

I know of a man who decided his time had come.  He is 52 years old and he had been chasing money for far too long; decades in the same job. The interesting part of the story was its conclusion. He was going to the village ‘to find a wife’.

I realize that for some people this may seem like a story from the 1940′s. But sure enough upon getting there a bride was swiftly provided for him; the only problem for him though was the fact that she was 22.

Aside from the fact that he adamantly refused to marry a girl that could be his daughter (don’t worry the villagers are  currently in the process of delivering a new bride), it was just interesting to know that the entire process was related to his financial ability.

He had provided a certain amount of money, which the villagers use to form marital negotiations, and once concluded, the girl is prepared to marry a bloke she has never seen in her life. Love? This no be Hollywood.

Seriously, is a marriage for love these days too unrealistic?

It is difficult enough these days to convince teenagers of the relevance of education. With the amount of uneducated people who end up as stars or reality show celebrities it is no surprise that dropping out and hoping for the best has become an attractive option. It becomes even more interesting though when a school is faced with a decision to hold its scheduled midterm exams or to change the date because of an upcoming Justin Bieber concert.

Beliebe it or not, all of the schools in a town in Norway recently decided to move these exams in favour of the concert, with one principal saying “We considered that this was a battle that we could not win this time”, based on the fact that it is expected that half of the girls in the school would go for the concert.

Personally i only have one response. Are you kidding me?

What kind of message is being sent if exams are being moved in favour of a concert? Is the concert more important than the exam?

I know Justin Bieber can sing and all; but if i was a teacher and a student of mine decided to go for a concert rather than show up for an exam, that would give me direct insight into the child’s priorities, and i would gladly give the child “2″ F’s just so there is no confusion about where the kid should have been that day.

Just Saying.

My vision was blurry. There were people standing above me but I couldn’t clearly make out who they were. I could hear faint voices but they were too far away to bring any recognition.

Where am I?

I made a failed attempt to lift myself up, but my body wasn’t responding the way it was supposed to. My eyes themselves were only half open. I couldn’t summon the strength to open them the whole way.

I tried to speak, but my tongue didn’t move and neither did my lips. It was a sudden difference from being the one who no one could usually get to shut up.

The voices were getting closer; at least my hearing was regaining consciousness. One eye was fully open now, and the foggy faces in front of me began to take shape.

The men were wearing masks. White masks. They were all staring down at me now as though in disbelief that I was actually alive.

Did I have an accident? Was I being robbed?

As my vision cleared I could feel strength coming back to my neck muscles. I lifted my head, slowly taking in what i could see in front of me.

This had to be a dream. In the place where my chest used to be I could now see a big gaping hole. A sudden rush of pain was smothered by the panicking voices I could now hear quite clearly.

That was when I realized; I had just woken up in the middle of heart surgery.

So you are a lady and you are looking for a man to spend the rest of your life with.

There are only two options in front of you. On the one hand is a man who pays all of the bills – but he doesn’t listen to you. On the other hand there is a man who cannot afford to pay the bills – but he is always willing to provide a listening ear when you need one.

Who would you choose and why?

I was watching a program the other day on controversial tv, and as you would guess the program itself was rather controversial. The subject of discussion was homosexuality and the person being interviewed was a gay man talking about his experience of discovery.

At some point in his life he realized that he was gay, and this discovery was based on an experience that he suggested the viewers should try for themselves at home.

Basically what happened was that on one fine evening he decided to stick his finger up his bum, only to discover that this was an extremely pleasurable experience.  Everything else kind of spiralled on from there.

From a biological perspective, men apparently have a prostate gland located within the anal cavity that when stimulated provides a certain amount of sexual pleasure. To most men this is a mystery that is relatively unknown, which is why the man on this tv show made the bold suggestion that this action should be tested rather than abhorrently rejected.

For the record, I am yet to try this supposedly exciting adventure; in fact i probably never will, but it does highlight a very interesting aspect of humanity, and i guess society, where we define what we do by what is “pleasurable”.

Ive heard various arguments in the past that point towards there being a “gay gene”, and that gay people were born that way and they essentially have no choice in the matter; but to what extent is this actually true?

If I decided to stick my finger up my bum and I enjoy it, this may lead me to pursue this pleasure and include another man to provide the instrument of insertion. The resulting effect may be that I would then label myself as a ‘homosexual’.

Essentially, are homosexuals simply just a victim of curiosity? Similar to a person who tries cocaine for the first time, enjoys it and becomes addicted to the pleasure that it brings?

Is homosexuality like smoking? In that the first few times you cough and find it uncomfortable, but then the more you do it the more desirable it becomes?

Maybe homosexuality is like Pringles. Once you pop you just can’t stop.

My daughter was barely even a day old and she was already struggling with her identity. I guess one could say we were bad parents, but how were we supposed to know that girls don’t wear blue sleeping hats?

At some point in time an unwritten law must have been created. Under no circumstances should a baby girl be found wearing something blue, it just isn’t done. I found myself having countless arguments defending the fact that my daughter is most certainly ‘not’ a boy and that a blue hat doesn’t determine his her gender.

It didn’t stop there. I walked through a number of shops in search of ‘daughter like’ outfits, only to discover that they too could only be found in pink! I had just entered the twilight zone.

Seriously, who made this rule that girls and blue don’t mix? It’s anything but a coincidence that every boy or girl below the age of 8 thinks their favorite color is blue and pink respectively. It’s because they don’t seem to have much of a choice in the matter.

If everything you wear is blue, your room is painted blue, and everything from your tooth brush to your pencil case is blue, your favorite colour isn’t likely to be green.

To some extent it goes a bit beyond colour. Boys only seem to be interested in guns and action figures, while girls have an inherent interest in Barbie dolls and cooking sets.

In this day and age a parent is likely to be genuinely concerned if his sons favorite colour is pink and he spends most of his time finding the right accessories for Ken and Barbie. That kind of scenario would just be, wrong. Right?

If something as basic and fundamental as colour is socially prescribed, one really has to wonder if we all aren’t just a reflection of what the society expects us to be.

I guess that’s what it takes if you want to be respected and considered as “normal”.