The name Rogue is unsettling, she looked at me with utter disdain. Who wants to masquerade as a dishonest or unprincipled person? Oh let the world know, here comes the Roguestar, badum tiss, with a fanfare of crooks and criminals. I was unpeturbed, I gazed at Makaitah and knew that the time had come, the time for her to go and for me to take over. I knew she was scared, the absurd pretence and display of contmpet towards a name we chose together was the manifestation of fear. Fear of being judged and cast out for not conforming. Conforming to the norms driven by delusions of deity and society. I smiled becasue as she was in doubt, I was sturdy in the abilities and rare qualities of Rogue. Makaitah knew the connotations of this name was not the common perception of a deplorable character. Rogue, ha! Shivers just went down my spine because oh no, Rogue is not your regular degular blogger, you might not approve of her ways but you are going to fucking like her. Unapologetic, unpredictable and faulty to those imprisoned by closed minds but a genius to those with an I.Q spectrum of Stephen Hawking.
We sat in comfortable silence, at the shores of the ocean and let the cold water lick our feet. I looked at the horizon as the water met the sky in a sceneric mirage and felt my heart pounding against my chest. Excitement was coursing through my veins, finally Makaitah evolving to the final form! Pillaging in new literature cesspool and spewing it here to horror stricken readers. I am cackling like Hecate the Macbeth witch. Misery is pretending to be what you are not just to please other people. Makaitah has to go because that girl has to stop living up to peoples expectations. Conforming birthed mediocrity, average blogger, average statistics and short changing this mind for zilch. We are going rogue, buckwild and you are not even worthy. I thought of stabbing her, smother her because I jus didn’t want her gone, I wanted her dead. It wasn’t for me to decide so I looked at her and asked how she would like to go. A lone tear rolled down her left cheek and she smiled a grim smile. It dawned to me, she wasn’t going but transforming into her true form. Rogue was not invading, she was a budding chrysanthemum.
How else are we suppossed to conquer the world but the prowess of tumbling words that capture the mind forever. Let them dance in a trance of mind fuck, hypnotised by intricately woven linguistics. I am a wife and a mother but that is not who I am. Thats just parts of me. I am me, particularly remarkable at raw expressionism of superior artisic merit. The world tried to harness me with its standard principles adhering to interpersonal behaviour of right and wrong. Along with other words that make my ears bleed, ethical, honarable, moral, righteous, sanctimonious, virtuous, yada yada. What is the yardstick for knowing you have made the world orgasm with moralism? Why are we slaves of moralism? Have you ever thought that as a species, we have not yet fully developed to the peak of civilisation? The comfort and convinience of modern life is great but are we at our full potential? Roguestar rises from an abyss which was buried with the all the lovely bullshit of normalcy. Its me, bare faced, I stand before you all with my nakedness and not an ounce of shame.
I looked at Makaitah one last time, and i felt a heavy euphoria of longing. Maybe she could stay? She shook her head gently and whispered, “The waves are calling me.” It was time. She walked towards the ocean as Ashanti and Jarule “Always on time” played in the back ground. I looked as a her waist sway in rythm with the hip-hop tune. She waddled into the water, she never looked back until the crown of her head disappeared into the water. She was gone. Goodbye Sweet Makaitah and hello to this prima dona feline! Rogue is here and I was about to change this site name to Roguestar, but Makaitah started this legacy and in her memory her name shall be remembered. Lets get it on bishes!