‘Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me’
I wonder why as a kid I’d shout loudly to my brothers because true as I am Zimbabwean, words hurt me more, texts, emails, written words I remember and so why would I say that load of bull??Lets just say I was young and foolish..lol!
Shane - a man who has swagger, street smart, well-educated, a man proud of his African heritage, arrogant as hell (but he had to be as you all know arrogance is a weakness on my part!), had a great relationship with his mother and father too , cute lil dimples which you would miss if you didn’t look at him for long, he had this air, this eeerrr je ne sais quoi and the cherry on this was he’d tape The Apprentice/Harlem Heights/24 for the Queen Bee whenever she was working late. Actually Kooks/Haddash – Shane's like Harlem Height’s mixture of Christian et Pierre…a go-getter! Yes he had his faults but all humans have their flaws but still did he deserve what I did to him last night?I cried last night, the second time I’ve cried this week (cried as I watched Daddy’s Girls when Rev Run was reading the e-mail Angela wrote to him), so second time emotive words had turned on the tsunami-waterworks, I couldn’t help it, was I taking it way too personally?The power of words had moved me so much, and yet I kept on typing, letter after letter at my 65wpm(yes that’s how fast I type having been a PA/Executive Legal Assistant for many years), sentiment after sentiment, I dug deeper into my soul, my tears were sure to cause an inferno. It seemed like I couldn’t stop myself, there on my bed surrounded by my many pillows in my spaghetti top and boyshorts I killed off a man!I even had background music as encouragement, Lauryn Hill’s Bohemian Rhapsody - imagine that, a soundtrack to a murder! Shane was dead, no miracle would bring him back, he was going to stay dead, and with each word I was making his existence a mere memory. I’d never thought I’d be this dark, heartless and merciless for some-where in the back of my mind I could hear him fighting for his life, my conscience was his last life-line, begging me to not kill him off, ok make him suffer but the death of a man isn’t easy but I was determined, as much as it affected me, I was going to do it! Last night, as I escaped into the world of an authoress, I ShonaVixen killed off a character I'd created with so much love, honesty, sincerity and probably think I’d kind of fallen for this man I’d created that killing him off was difficult and emotional, but die he had for this creative challenge to continue! It wasn’t the first time some-one had died in my work, but Tadiwa had been shot by a stray bullet, so that was totally different. I hadn’t seen it coming but it felt like he needed to die if I was to continue without a block and now I wonder if indeed by killing him off I also killed ghosts of my own?
PS: Haddash (my Zim chica!) & Tigeress, thank you so much for tagging me (so not happy!!) but me thinks my post A Peak into Shona’s World was more than enough…don’t you? You all know I have the barriers with Blogville! Hope you’re all well, be grateful for what you have and as always Happy Sexing xoxo
PPS: Here’s your Jimmy's Confessions!Reality tv has me smiling - Harlem Heights, The Apprentice, Baldwin Hills, Daddy's Girls