Crystal balls is, essentially, me. It is the spirit that embodies all that I am.
No, not that kind of spirit. It’s more of a force, a movement, except that this one only moves inside my head.
Crystal balls is princesses à la Shrek – they do love their Prince Charmings, but they can kick butt when they choose to. She’s gypsy dances, flirty skirts, ultimate jeans, rock chicks with spiky purple hair, ranting swedes, one-man guitar, tom and jerry marathons, giggling in the rain, grinning at the stars, smiling in your sleep, all wrapped up in a cuddly package.
Crystal balls is faith that the world is not all bad, that there’s still a smile on a face in a dark place, that love still survives, and sometimes it even thrives. Crystal balls is daring to believe that one person can make a difference. And crystal balls is also more than just a little, you know, nuts.
Plus, according to my legal documents, Crystal is my birth name.
CB has grown since I discovered her. She’s still trying to fix the things, to make you smile, to laugh at herself, to share her world, to admit when I’m afraid, to say that it’s okay to be afraid, to stay the true romantic, to just be me.
I use CB. I try to change the way you think, to open your mind, to sneak into your comfort zone, and sneak you into mine. To keep those nuts as clear, tough and pure as crystal, coz we could all use a few pairs of those. And I’m still trying to go after what I want. I finally know – truly know – what that is. It’s not much, and it doesn’t need nuts, loose or otherwise.
I used to think the most important thing was to stay the same, to stay true to myself, to remain ‘the real me’. Call it mel-choleric, INFJ, Type 4, anything that works for you. On some level, I still feel this way.
But the ‘real me’ changes every day, and sometimes that’s hard to understand, even for me. So I take it day by day, I live, I learn, I cry, but most of all I smile. Because in spite of everything, these balls are still true crystal, just like me.
The third time I joined twitter, my username was 3CB, and that’s become my brand. It sounds vulgar when you spell it out in full, and quite changes the meaning, but it’s catchy, and I still have a lot of fun with it.
My current tag-line is ‘a crazy shade of grey’. It sounds like an album by Staind, but it’s more than that. I’ve heard a few times that I sound white, and that my writing isn’t Kenyan enough. I suppose, in many ways, I’m the whitest black girl I know. Some would say I’m the blackest white girl, given my Alek-Wek-ish complexion.
And so, I suppose, that makes me some kind of grey. And I suppose, I think, that I can live with that. **grin**