How Curses Work

Yes, really. Why are curses so darn scary?

The spacewagon was inches away from knocking my earbuds off my ears. Because of course, I would be off the ground, careening into oncomig traffic. No earbuds can be that tenacious.

I was lucky though, it didn't. I made it safely across the road.

I naturally looked back to check what possibe damage may have been done and put images to my subjunctive. I was two brain synapses away from really knowing what could have been when I picked up a voice from the back of the spacewagon railing off about how "some guy won't be any good. How some guy will die prematuredly". She was cursing the guy that just crossed the road carelessly.

That guy is me. An old lady from the back of a spacewagon was cursing at me. Of course, the curses were rendered in a less than palatble Yoruba, with the plucky, self assured fluidity of a woman who's had good practice. But that was me right there, being cursed.

And that was the first time in my life ever. Perhaps it was why it really razzled me. I began to think maybe she was right. Maybe I am just a useless trash that will never amount to anything. I am probably going to die soon. My brain began to recall the closecalls I have with death lately. How earlier in the morning, I woke 6:35am instead of 6:30am. The hounds of heaven were coming for me before God changed his mind. Maybe the next morning I won't be so lukcy. I was scared of the next step. Maybe it will land me smack in a blackhole and I will never be found again. Perhaps I am going to get shot down by an overexcited space Alien trying out its new blaster from outer space.

It was my first time being cursed and I was having a meltdown. Makes me wonder: What happens to kids who hear this every day of their lives? From teachers, guardians and parents?

How curses work? I am no expert, but off the top of my head, I think it works like chameleon feaces. Like a single story. You marinate in it long enough and it becomes you.

PS. Am I still worried about the curse? I have set my alarm ringer to hyperloud and I am going over to confess all my sins to Jesus in the instance my alarm fails. Go figure.

PSS. I thought I might start this with an entree of apology. Then I thought. Heck. No one reads my shit anyway.

PPSS. Happy Good Friday.

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