Thoughts of Miss K

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I am having a hard time trying to figure out how I will compile my next post. It’s been quite long since I wrote something and posted it up on this space and a week ago I received an email from Google, the tech giant was complaining that they are incurring extra costs for wiping out cobwebs on the admin new post icon. This email had such a catchy subject I almost choked on sugar cane juice or is it sugar cane sap(damn high school biology) didn’t I mention I was chewing cane on top of a rock in the village stream waylaying another of the village girls…in our village girls still wear crop tops and the shortest of skirts north of Limpopo only that this tops and skirts are made of hide and skin from leopards please don’t ask what the men or young boys wear because somehow I can feel my balls resting bear on the poor rock.

Sorry this is not another village story, I lost my laptop and I can’t get access to a computer in this village only crop tops and short skirts and a lot of thigh, if this thighs had internet…so I think let me text Jackie (Jackie chronicles) to put up something for me but then I remember she’s not writing for me anymore and the last time she posted a reflection in an hour glass I asked for it as a favor and it’s a little too soon to ask for another favor so I scroll my mail box just to find an avid fan one that would bail you out if you were jailed for posting up crap about your village, her Google identity is Teresia Wahu so I tap compose new email or rather a red pencil asking me to write in a seductive way

“Hello miss trust I find you well…are you still doing what you do best? I lost my laptop thus I’ve not written anything of late and I’m in a village where the only form of technology known is anything that transmits frequency on a Sanyo radio “tsk! How then did you come up with this email?” I used juju… it’s the good kind of juju so don’t panic yet…will you please create a piece for me slash my blog…the elders will be pleased”

I am not sure I sounded like someone who needs help so I am having second thoughts on clicking the send arrow(this one is less seductive) but exactly nineteen minutes later God she did not even wait for twenty, a new mail pops up.

“hey, I am good , great to hear from you. you had to be dramatic about an email, my kind of person. talk to me via 07**** I will be happy to create something for you (and the elders ofcourse)”

Such prolificacy and abundance in words yet pithy….Achebe would have read that at least thrice…God rest his soul in eternal peace. So I get back to her on whatsapp….there’s no girl who has come to fetch water yet…she agrees to help Google clean up the cobwebs but as she says it, she’s having a kind of block so I tell her if she is not cool with me resting my balls on the rock I could sit on the adjacent grass and maybe give them some reeds to rest on but she says, texts rather

“where no complete thought comes to completion I start writing about food it goes to something totally different” I don’t mind people who are obsessed with nutrition, food or damn marasmus just write anything. “I’ll have something by tomorrow worry not”

Tomorrow!? Lord! That was faster than faiba. So ladies and gentlemen, men and women of importance lads and lasses of equal slash lesser importance I present to you Teresia Wahu on love and pain

There is something about pain, something that makes it so appealing, and something that makes it essential. It is that something that calls onto its fundamentality in every single aspect of our lives, we live for pain.

Before you all crucify me I’d like you to please understand that my view and stand point at this may likely be due to the fact that I am somewhat not what you would call normal at mind. Maybe am just weird but pain, well, it thrills me. Am not talking about just one sought of pain, be it a heartache or a head ache all in all they are appealing to me.

It makes blood rush though your body in a split second and yes, I know it normally does the same but this is different. The connection from your heart to your hurt region back to your heart happens so fast it’s impossible to keep track of its current position, this leads to momentary confusion and that is the most attractive part of it all.

Love is only as beautiful as it can be and the moment at which we realize that a certain person makes our heart race we also realize that after a while sooner or later that exact person will be the course of the greatest form of suffering in our lives. Despite the realization of an approaching disaster we all still go ahead and fall crazy, madly and intensely in love. Not a care in the world about the coming hurricane or the many pieces of our hearts we will be left alone to put back together.

We run towards pain blindly, embracing the exact path that leads to it not fully understanding why we set towards that course or why we just can’t seem to walk away or avoid it. Don’t act like you have no idea what I am talking about everyone has had their heart crashed. That moment when you know your heart is supposed to be aching the pain is surprisingly in your stomach. That hollow feeling that makes you wonder if your intestines have vanished and yet at the same time you feel them twisting and turning as if there is a competition of flexibility to qualify for the circus in your tummy.

That moment when your heartbeat comes from the core of your intestines and by the great throbbing you might actually believe you are a ticking time bomb ready to go off. Despite how bad it sounds people keep falling in love over and over again, yes love is beautiful but I think the reason for this is because the pain that comes after becomes an acquired taste.

I recall a time when I was still a small person having learnt to walk through torture and disappointment and still getting up to try time and again. There came a time when it was time to be a big person and learn how to ride a bike, dang that was hell, bleeding and falling, bleeding and falling yet even if someone told me how bad the experience was going to be I would not pay them mind.

You don’t know physical pain,(and I fully stand by this statement), until you accidentally knock your smallest toe on the corner of a table or a chair or what have you. That moment when your entire body, no matter how big it is succumbs to the torture of the smallest part. For a moment of confusion and despair you are paralyzed for a complete minute or maybe two and clenching your teeth is the only possible reflex you have to cope with the pain.

Well if you still think am weird look at it this way, you know rugby is an extensively dangerous game. Players I know go back to the same cursed pitch time and time again after getting bruised and damaged only as if it does not necessarily matter.

Sometimes it’s not a matter of loving it’s a matter of how deeply you care which directly relates to the amount of pain that will come in the event of a disappointment.

She says that I should give it a title by the time I am posting it up I still can’t think of a befitting title, or let’s just say I am preoccupied by one of the village girls I spotted approaching.

She told me she will be writing here quite often and just like Jackie chronicles she requested that I call her pieces thoughts of miss K. she runs a blog too www.wahukariukit.wordpress.com

 

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About Author

God is great, whiskey is good, people are crazy and the pen takes me where I belong 📝

5 Comments

  1. aloysiok@gmail.com'
    Karanja Jnr on

    Creativity comes from a conflict of ideas. You are going places brother. Keep up the spirit.

  2. g.smith94.gm@gmail.com'
    Gerald church on

    Bro u kill it for more, so good to say… U all the way 🆙.. So 🆕 and 🆒