Passion and power; they can both make us a little bit crazy perhaps.
Have I really made a difference? Do I make a difference? These days I’m not so sure what I do.
I woke up two days ago to find that the Christmas pepperpot was on “its last”, as my sister would say, and realized that the season just came and went.
I saw this line somewhere one day and laughed really hard: “Skinny women are evil.” It took me back years ago to that time when I believed in doing all that was necessary to be slim.
I’m watching the final stretch of a race. Some of the athletes look fatigued and drained while others look composed and as fresh as can be.
His body is sprinkled with pink dots, curly hair a damp mess and his breath is coming in short, very exasperated gasps.
Every year I have a beginning-of-Christmas-season ritual. At the beginning of November, I wake up early, rush to the radio and wait to hear the first Christmas song.
Technology is my best friend. Like, perhaps most of the world, I cannot imagine my life without it.
I do not own a computer or a television. Neither am I one of those people who automatically reach for their pockets or dive into their handbags at the clink!
So the Amazon Conquerors went to South Africa to play in the Championship League and conquered no one.
I once submitted a school assignment minus any citations and watched as my teacher tossed it away, relegating it to a filthy dustbin of a messy classroom.
I am told that I was born around eight o’clock at the public hospital on a night when two young nurses were on duty along with a doctor a few days from retirement; the child of a man who wasn’t sure whether he wanted a daughter or a son, but was willing to stake money on the baby being a girl.
“Oh beautiful Guyana, Oh my lovely, native land…” These are truly patriotic words which force my doubting heart to feel love; love for a land where I must go hiking or look beneath layers of filth to see beauty.
“The great question that has never been answered, and which I have not yet been able to answer, despite my thirty years of research into the feminine soul, is ‘What does a woman want?’” (Sigmund Freud) And he was a very smart man.
I’ve watched my dear friends do it, as well as a sister I earned (long story) and women I feel acquainted with because of the many times I have seen them on stage, but somehow I never had the courage to do it.