Entry 35

VOODOO DOLLS II
Revealing all the intimate details is just short of LETTING THE fabled CAT OUT OF THE BAG (I wonder who put it in there in the first place) to remain in focus, I’d make like Hansel and Gretel and leave trails of crumbs bits at a time, until the final event.

They say ice-cream wins the standing award for best comfort food and is the sure means of drowning all and every man-related-sorrows-et-al but, when ice cream is what causes the ‘matters arising’ buh, what gets the position for 1st runner up?
I blame him, no, wait! I blame them. [Long pause then scream] where on earth is that killer doll ‘Chukie’ when you need him?!


So, after the hellish heart breaks and all, I decided I had-had enough and deleted all the ‘toxic male’ contacts from my phone (an act which from now, I seriously advice against, look what happened because I did!) and decided to start afresh. So, when I received the sweetest text message ever from an unknown number claiming upon enquiry to be “a secret admirer” I couldn’t help but feel flattered and encourage the thread.
It wasn’t until after about a week of casual messages, flirting and exchange of smiley’s that the rectangular nut on the left side of my brain clicked into place and it occurred to me to ask; “who is this…”


Enter: the wild card
It was one of those days when I was feeling blue (I performed badly in my test slash project work NNEKA!!) I made up my mind that ice cream, cake and candy would go a long way in adding vibrancy to the dull color of my mood and proceeded to carry out that plan. I choose to go to the restaurant outside of school for the change of scenery. I brought the ice cream successfully alongside the cake. Then on an impulse, I decided to add a bottle of coke to the menu and was struggling to balance holding a now melting cone of ice cream, my purse and the tray containing the cake and coke long enough to reach the nearest empty seat when an idiot chose that moment to turn with the force of Hades and bump into me! Turning my shirt front into a canvas for the finger painting of “Ice cream in pictures!!” To make matters worse, when my head stopped spinning and I realized the ground wouldn’t open and swallow me then and there, I looked up to confront my assailant only to come face to face with him.
I knew the idiot, strike two from my past…


The thing with hooking up with an old flame and letting the fire burn brightly is that, at the back of my head, I know how this particular flame burnt out. The soggy ashes that remained, the choking fumes and the marathon of events that followed.
The only grounds for a rematch should be that both parties are ready to start afresh.
Is he willing to go through the hassle of wooing me once again?
Is he ready to admit to who did what and apologize for those blind stabs which cut deep?
Would he accept my apologies, forgive and be willing to forget?

Seriously, sending Chuckie to deliver a "hand-crafted-message" (if you know what i mean) would seem more likely.
[Why do I keep thinking of Chukie?]


These days, I find myself sensing more of Nneka than I see, am guessing I have been away from church for too long.


The witches hut isn’t so far off anymore, and am not certain how that particular story ended.
To avoid defeat as a result of being caught unawares, I’d ask the basic question. One which when answered would settle a whole lot of confusion and guide me to the straight path of focus that I badly need. One which people should ask themselves every now and then.
A simple question, a question (when answered) that leads to the can-do-coaches; when and how?
One sentence, four words: what do I want?
- Tabby