Like tokens tossed their way, each of them behaves as though the other owned their looks. The rivalry is plain and it turns me to wonderment.
If only they understood their genetic wiring, only then would they not allow these bohemian tendencies to trickle down their subconscious system.
Perhaps they arguably agree that nature showed some partiality right from the onset as purposed in Book of Genesis, in the making of the woman. That woman whose nonchalant outlook on life makes them to have a desire to erase their ‘2D perspective’ about their lives.
Yes that woman!!! That woman who commands them to know that ignorance is no bliss. Yes that woman!!! That woman whose prowess of doing things, not even an endemic talent, trained under the auspices of Shakespeare could master. Yes that woman!!! That woman who makes them know that, until they have come to that point of maturity, they would never know that older people existed.
Yes that woman!!! That woman who makes them experience the bitter – sweet syndrome, when a silent applause is meted out to her as her shadow, outlining her major curves, is cast onto the sides of the walls, stunning her spectators in jaw-dropping detail.
Yes that woman!!! That woman whose anti-torpedoing canons spiral into a certain discomfort, the type only her victims understood and could possibly describe. Those who were kind called her naïve, as her natural demeanor threateningly handed them as candidates of ‘fashion laborers’.
To them, the mere thought of her reducing them to bare survivals was the spite of a life-long enemy. Her principle of never giving offence to decency generates serious talks amongst her victims. They simply denigrate her and the gracious aura countenancing her every movement. She seemed to have been heavily endowed with the ‘FLA’ syntax which almost every nine out of ten girls would crave for. ‘Thus the Figure, the Look and the Aptitude’.
On the contrary she could only care less about whatever travailed in their pitiable minds. To her, she is the one woman the world has ever had as its best. She believes she is weirdly unique, the kind that cannot lend itself to one definition.
A ‘STAR DUST’ she classifies her import. In one word a ‘NEMESIS!!!.’ Yes a ‘NEMESIS!!!’. ‘Just as you can’t make lemonade with sugar alone, you can’t be me until you are willing to spend the rest of your life grimacing through my sour lemons.’
She prides herself on. In the end you suffer from the treatment worse than from the problem. She wearies you until the last pint of blood is drained out of your system, her helpless victims ever at her mercy.
I see you skimming through to the bottom to spot who the hell she is. Disappointingly however, she’s no human!!! She’s abstract, deeply – seated in the mental faculties of many, crippling their morale by the second, locking their ability to ever accepting themselves just the way God made them.
She’s marginalized many, giving them a zero chance to having a positive impression about their personality. As a bow to her expertise, she outlines to you the psychological image you’ve created of yourself and literally regards you a neer-do-well.
Ironically, she has the innocence of a five year old lad and you really can’t lay any blames on her since she never rears her head until she’s called for. I have seen innumerable girls wage war against her effortlessly. Up onto the point where her victims would come to ascertain the axiom, ‘BE YOU, THE WORLD WILL ADJUST’, the puzzles with ‘this woman’ shall never end, come hell or high waters. Her name is COMPLEX!!!
EL- ewuraba,
THE BOSSLADY.
