Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Fire in my Bosom

You have to agree with me that there is a time for everything. Taking that into account I decided that I will take this opportunity to share with you emotions and thoughts that coursed through me as I sat and watched a movie. Now granted that I already painted myself into a corner by making you think I am going to give you "female anecdotes" but I beg your indulgence just this once.

The movie I decided to watch was "The motorcycle diaries". In retrospect I think I should have used my time up wisely by reading the book but erm.......I already have four books sitting by my bedside vying for my attention as it is. Apologies for I digress. Let me give you a slight synopsis about the movie. Just as the title states the movie is about someone's thoughts as they rode a motorcycle (or at least to me it did). The characters in the movie was Che Guevera and his buddy. They had decided that they were going to ride a motorcycle from Bueno Aires to Venezuela to celebrate his buddy's 30th birthday. As they journey they see their continent in a different light. I didn't think the movie did catapult me in much thought at the beginning till I saw that as the two went further inland they were met with much destitution and injustice.

As I cradled my bottle water and plumped my body pillow I started a compare and contrast game. Granted life for much of us these days is reminiscent of an ostrich with his head stuck in the sand, I think, and you are welcome to your own opinion, that we still have some human blood left in us. Idealism might have being slowly siphoned out of our bodies but somewhere in the recess of our minds still burns the revolutionary fires. Being from Africa I thought of the millions of people there with no basic human amenities (Food, Shelter and Clothing). Maybe two of the three is met but more often than not most have one. Che rode through the countryside and listened to stories of injustice and some he witnessed. He helped out at a leprosy clinic and through it all he stuck to his ideals. He wouldn't lie to a person and I think this most of all kept him true to himself and reflectively true to others.

I would like to have his courage because when he could have being a doctor he decided to start the Cuban revolution. He swum across a river that he felt separated the sick from the healthy just to he could spend his birthday with what he had begun to regard as his patients. In this day of age, the 21st century as we have come to know it, is there one among us that would attempt such a feat. I would be the first to say No, I can't. The one thing I hope I could and with God's help will do is get my degree and go back home to where I am needed and start fixing humanity in my own way. For now Che has awoken the fires in my mind and spirit and I had to share it with someone.

Friday, August 26, 2005

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Devil Within

I woke up this morning with strained back.Not even turning on the lights, I shuffled my feet towards the bathroom and nearly tripped on something lying on the floor. I stopped short and tried to think what it could be. I shook my head side to side trying to dislodge a memory about last night. That didn't work. I bent down with great agony to my back and felt for my obstacle. It was certainly long and there was a cloth covering on it. I felt my way to the end of it and it was bulb shaped with a coarse feel to it. Working my way to the opposite end I felt two stumps with protusions on the end. Flashback of me fighting with my boyfriend last night after I came back from a night out with the girls. I staggered back as I slowly realized the obstacle infront me felt and was shaped like a human being. What happened? I shut my eyes tight and willed it to go away, willed my sanity back. How could this happen? I am not violent, infact I was plain cowardly when it came to violence. I tried to lift my hands to my eyes so as to rub the sleep from my eyes but they were stuck to the side of my body. I jerked them loose and examined them in the dim light. What were those crusted up objects on my fingers? I looked closely at one which was peeling and the color of my fingertips were RED..........RED. Oh My God I had killed my boyfriend. I let out a horrific yelp and cowered in the corner. What to do? What to do? Call the police.No! I would be sentenced to death. Ok then what? Call Cecelia and figure out something? No! She was a blabbermouth she would end up telling the tabloids I killed my boyfriend. What if I buried him where no one would ever look? The ocean was right infront of our house. The salt of the ocean would accelerate the decomposition of the body and the fishes would eventually finish what else was left of the body before someone would discover the remains. It would be a perfect plan. I gulped loudly as it finally sunk in that my life had changed. Yesterday I was a 4.0 GPA holding senior at the university and now I was planning to coverup the murder of my boyfriend. A murder I had committed. I steeled myself and got up and stood over the body. I bent down to grab the feet and then as I pulled at them they came off. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! I had cut him up in pieces. I felt woozy and nauseous. What had I become? An animal..........Suddenly light flooded the room from the hallway. Someone had opened the door and was standing in the doorway. I was temporarily blinded and shut my eyes. I knew I had being found out. I was going to jail and I was going to be some other woman's bitch. No.........I wasn't going without a fight. I got up and ran towards the figure in the doorway and tried to tackle it. I felt arms around me holding me close and a soft timbre voice saying "Whats wrong baby?" I was going crazy he sounded like my dead boyfriend. I looked up and looked into the eyes of my beloved one. I nearly crumpled to the ground. Now I had lost my mind I was seeing his ghost. Still holding me close he reached out and flipped the light switch. I willed myself to confirm that there was a dead body in the middle of the floor. I looked and I saw the dummy I had brought home a week ago to practice CPR on. I laughed and cried with relief as I clutched my boyfriend close.


" You are so crazy!" I exclaimed uproariously to my friends. Kamar, Kay and I were fighting our way through the bustling mob at the Dayton's thirteen hour sale. We really didn't need any more clothes in our closet but at that moment we didn't particularly care about that detail. Swinging around so as to maintain our conversation I bumped into someone who shoved me backwards. Biting back my retort I faced my assailant. It was a short petite girl with cropped hair and a scowl to boot. She was wearing a mall security uniform and I guess this was a reason her chest was puffed out in an authoritative stance. Not wanting to cause a scene I side stepped her with my friends close by. Each step I took in a different direction this pesky girl kept standing in my path. Finally I curtly asked her if I could get on with my shopping without paying troll tax. My friends gleeful laugh was loud and I had hoped had passed her the message that I wasn't here alone.

" I would like you to come with me to the security office, MAAM," she said while expanding her chest more than I thought possible for a person of such short stature. Rolling my eyes I followed her to the corner of the store. She ushered me in a room and raising her hands she stopped my friends from coming in behind me. With my hands crossed in front of me I glared at her demanding to know why I was being bothered while I was shopping. Smiling vaguely she asked me to empty my hand bag. Wanting to prove her wrong I did what she asked. Imagine my surprise when out of my bag popped out two ornament pins I was eyeing earlier in the store. Stammering and stuttering I tried to explain that I wasn't a thief and didn't know how the items got into my bag, how I would pay for the items just to make this incident disappear while the short girl just looked at me with steel in her eyes.

"Strip!" she demanded. I was shell shocked. What did she mean strip? was she serious. Her hands akimbo she beckoned with her head that she was waiting. Not sure if this will prove my innocence but eager to leave the store at any cost, I pulled at my sleeves. The girl was staring at me with interest. I couldn't help feeling my skin crawl. Down to nothing but my skivvies I held up my hands in mock surrender. " Take off the bra and the panties too." she uttered unbelievingly. Looking at her like she just sprouted another head on her shoulder I questioned if I heard her request right. This little woman was expecting me to stand before her naked!!! I had tolerated this charade long enough, pushing her aside I walked out of the room. My friends gawked at me as I furiously said I was never going to shop at this store ever again. I had walked halfway through the shoe department when I realized that I was walking around the store in my underwear. Holding my head high I walked right out the store and ducked into the mall bathroom next door. I was forever mortified!