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Late Registration

Late last year I met a girl that I used to know in my teenage years at a social event. Growing up we had a thing. We shared a mutual attraction towards one another. We hadn’t seen each other for a while. She was hot. The term “beautiful” refers to facial features. For society beauty is symmetrical features in the right proportion. For example, your eyes need to be at the right place and must have the right size. This goes for your mouth, ears and forehead too. If any of these things are disproportionate or asymmetrical, you run the risk of being “ugly” in the eyes of the world. Skin color, or scars or birth marks don’t really matter. Symmetrical features at the right proportion is all that beauty is. The term “hot” talks about attributes from the neck down. Like a great ass and boobs. Also a good physiue. Hot is just contemporary jargon for “fuckable”. Now, this girl was beautiful and hot. She had everything, she was everything. She has a ass that is just out of this world. It’s not fake ass too, it’s natural, God given; has the right ass to thigh ratio. Oh, you just have to believe me, it’s the greatest ass in the world! This girl is hot like Mercury, the first planet from the sun. She’s easily in my top 5. Now at this social event, I saw here and I didn’t immediately acknowledge her, I took my time, ignored her, I was aloof. She was at her best in terms of apperel and make-up. Every guy in the room wanted her. You could taste the thirst. I had to be intelligent, indirection was my best shot. I moved a couple of chess pieces and later on, I had won. She was talking to me, her focus was on me. I had the envy of guys in that social gathering. Some guys never stopped trying, a trait I admired. I would give the gents space so they tried out their magic but she recoiled and jump straight at me. It was unbelievable! I always approach my day with the assumption that I am going to win. But not like this. Today’s win was like Liverpool winning the league. She wanted to go home with me but I had to cool things down a bit. I told her “Let’s enjoy this moment, let’s enjoy today. Tomorrow is another day.” She agreed and the rest of the night was filled with kisses and caresses. She was so into me, it was like she had taken love heroine and to be fair I was too. However, there was only one problem, I was broke. I couldn’t let her see that. And so at the end of the night I took her number and never called her again. It was better that way. Today after months, I saw her and immediately thought about the skits on Kanye Wests “Late Registration”. “We, broke, broke, broke, broke, flat broke.” I thought about that skit before “Drive Slow” and it said something like we will leave the girl to go with the guy who has a car, because we can’t afford gas, hoes or anything for that matter. Ah Kanye, you captured something so real in those skits, that album. You have always been in my life Kanye, thank you. Yes, I will cry myself to sleep today but I believe I made the right decision. The most important thing is that I keep growing. Kanye West also suffered the pain of not getting hoes in his 20’s and today his a Billionaire, I am in great company. Sure, I am consoling myself but the decision to not be in contact with her was a conscious one. I will get my chance, I know it. The world is mine for the taking, what is needed is just time and patience. Time will prove me right.

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Lady Siren (Marilyn Monroe)

She had everything. I was drawn to her like a moth to the light. She was mythical and beautiful like the 8 wonders of the world. She was alluring and ungraspable like water. She flowed straight into my structure of being. She mesmerized me and left me thinking of what could be. She hijacked my rational faculties and left my body in comatose – paralyzed and enslaved by her voice, it wasn’t that it was angelic but rather that it had a certain quality that bypassed my conscious mind. She spoke in a tone that was poised and almost tired, it was low pitched and effortless, almost resigned with a hint of would you like a Fellatio? Her eyes were suggestive and inquisitive. It was as if they wanted to know your dirtiest fantasies and part-take in them, as the leading lady – they demanded that credit, demanded to be the star, demanded to control and possess your body like a demon. Her posture, how she stood was a wet dream. She was phallic, completely erected on the ground like the Eiffel tower. A sight to see, there was no one quite like; her she commanded attention! Her walk was the stuff of legends. It was peculiar and affirmed in a way that made her a star on the runway. She was the brightest star in a universe filled with hydrogen and helium – explosive and her body was the bomb! She had the best boobs in the world – not that I have seen them but I have thought and fantasied about them. Not quite your watermelons but matured coconuts in the Savannah. Firm coconuts. Coconuts that can fit in your hands. Coconuts that can make all your dreams come true. The type of coconuts that had my mind spinning out of control – she was dangerous and she came with a label like tobacco. Addictive, I couldn’t help thinking about her and all her features. I was whipped a slave, confined within the looped structure of my brain. She was a sex symbol that I wanted to possess, every inch of her body I wanted my lips to touch, every organism would elect me in the realm of the gods – gratifying her sexual desires would be my purpose in life. She was a goddess, a work of mastery like Leonardo Da Vinci’s “Mona Lisa”, cavorted and renowned like the soccer World Cup and as such only cunnilingus will do anointed and knighted by the serpent in the bible. She was dangerous. Purposely stringing me along to hang myself. The more I chased, the more I lost control. The more I attached myself, the more she detached herself – a strategic, calculated ploy on her side. She was cold, whenever I told myself I was done, she would open her legs from a far provoking themes and images of heaven; it never occurred to me that it was just illusions. She was my escape, my ultimate fantasy. She represented a total release. She transported me to a realm of pure bliss and pleasure. She was a siren – striking and loud! An entity you cannot ignore but also subtle and indirect in a way that she made me fill in the blanks. Sure, I was repressed but she was better. She is an intelligent human being. She is my African Cleopatra, my Marilyn Monroe, she resembles Lucifer and acquainted me with the beautiful feeling of suffering, she taught me about love and projections – she is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love her; My Marilyn Monroe.

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