I wake up when I wake up but lie still, as I contact the Unseen Creator.
I go through the day as if it’s the best day of my life
I dress in ways that generate debate yet not sexually suggestive or haggard
I don’t live by DEPENDING on things, like money, around me yet I use them
I live all too aware of the fact that I am mortal yet I am unusual
I live uninhibited by my own hormones and basic drives yet I am comfortable with having them
I don’t depend too much on others, whoever they may be, so long they are only humans
I am unattached to traditions I don’t understand yet I do not slander or pontificate
I do not fully understand the supernatural/unseen world yet I do not doubt its reality
I live like I have 100 more years yet completely fearless of death
I am softer than water, tougher than the rock, freer than the breeze, more passionate than fire
I am not God and I do not contribute to a universal mind
I am just a wild child who belongs to the Creator.
My relatives -Gibby, Chimpy and Bonoby
-Are known for being aggressive.
It is not their fault they are slaves to their hormones.
As much as I mock the human species,
They do show some level of control
My fellow monkeys are not capable of showing.
Many cool medidative evenings, hanging from different branches (refer to my posts on “From MY Veranda”),
I have watched these teenagers
Stalkingly eye and visually devour (some cool vocabs the humans have taught me)
Every lady in hot-skirt or tight pants that wanders their way.
(Not that I blame these ladies
Desperately croaking to be heard
Or enjoying to demonstrate some control over the men.)
But, never has any of them leapt after a quarry/game/lady.
(Though, they must have done THINGS in their minds!)
I trust the members of my species
To let the volcanoes of their “heat” erupt.
I have seen bar-fights
End in friendship.
I have seen two-lovers-of-one-man
Unite over their common ill.
I have seen an extremely excited man
Never lift a foot off the ground in a dance.
I have seen a mother angry
But never raised a hand to beat the child.
I have seen an affection-overwhelmed father
Just smile tearfully into the face of his son.
I have seen a boy betrayed,
But patiently forgave his friend.
I have seen a lover hurt,
But still heartily told the partner,
“I love you.”
I have seen two lovers “on heat”
Actually refrain from wild sex.
Even the female members
Who are often accused of being
Illogical and largely intuitive/instinctive
(Some more cool words from email@example.com/monkeys.)
Have demonstrated unfettered wisdom.
I have seen some struggle with unusual sexual appetites
Yet have been kept calm.
I am never one to praise the humans,
But they do have this
That we don’t have.
Their capacity for self-control.
P.S.: The writing monkeys amongst us believe in using so much paragraphs to help humans read better between the lines!
Like a sloth that’s been deprived of sleep,
The night calls out to me,
Slowly but unrelentingly…
It’s Friday night and the air feels different
-loaded with pheromones.
The humans are on heat.
I wonder what exactly it is about Friday nights
That make(s) people experience hormonal tornadoes.
And I’m not just referring to ladies.
The scopists are there.
Looking for any quarry that dares come their way.
They will literally kill the game with their steeling stare.
They will smother the lady with the flaming-all-smokey desire
That pours out from them like an inferno.
May I not be a kind of prey for this voracious “lovers”.
What makes man run so crazily after something?
The hormonal plague.
Just as ladies experience the hormonal scourge, men also are no different.
True it produces different effects in those men.
They blame ladies for being emotionally unstable
When the tornado rocks their boat.
Well, the men just go out on rampage altogether
And turn cannibals with the rage of the Avatar’s fire-lord “Ozai“.
Like cockroaches who are notorious for feeding on the bodies of their fellows.
The hormonal plague comes on all.
Makes affectionate and intuitive, and calm and rational people
Act like mindless zombies!
Can we be excused and just blame it on the hormones or biological make-up?
Can it be ignored?
Meanwhile, men walk to and fro, cycle up and down, drive in their cars along the stretch of the streets;
Each carrying the hormones
As they look forward to their lovely homes with/without wives and/or children.
All in the stream of life
From my verandah.
P.S.: I know I have only stated a small part of things we do “under the influence” of our biological/genetic make-up!