Some Bar On The Island
I’m in this beer parlour with a couple of friends and some beautiful ladies. I’m seeing a couple of people dancing to ‘Kukere’ and ‘Azonto’. I’m definitely not moved to dance at the moment. There’s actually nothing that isn’t here – Nkwobi, small stout, lager beer, vodka, whatever. name it. Gradually, I’m getting drunk. I’m not all that stupid, I know it.
Anyway, I need to take control of my senses. My beloved Zizi has to get her letter today. Unfailingly today. I have to send it to her before the second round of the ‘bedmatics’.
This letter has been postponed for long actually. This should be about the third or fourth if I’m not mistaken. I’m sure a lot of people have come in contact with the ones I must have writen and thrown up in the bin. Hopefuly, this is going straight to her.
It’s weird I’m sending you a letter right? To start with, I’m supposed to be in your house in a couple of hours with you. I’m pretty sure you’ve made dinner and lit the whole place with those sweet smelling candles together with matters arising and agenda for the late night discussion – usually your favorite. You never fail to disappoint. That’s why you remain my one and only Zizi.
I’m not stuck in traffic neither am I having work to do at the office or an emergency meeting. I’m just here – somewhere on the sea, far from the estate, probably not even within the shores of the country having a good time ; a good time I tell you. I should have invited you, you would have made a better company than who I am currently with knowing fully well that you’re a talkative but I can’t. She’s literally a better whore than you were. She knows her priorities and at least, I’m rest assured someone I’m not going to be gossiping tonight or reminiscing, neither would I be playing board games or those line up of boring activicties you slated for night time. I’ll be showing my worth as a man, proving myself, giving Vitamin D to the right patient and deriving maximum pleasure from it. Something that never happened between the last 32 days.
Oh yes, I did count. 32 days of unending struggle? Having to battle with your hot body and watch you potentially strip yourself in front of me without touching you, having to sing you to sleep like I was a nightingale and watch you wake up, having to help you choose the appropriate dresses and all that pussy nigga thing.
I was even a shame among my friends. Whenever the guys came along to drink or get together and talk about the ladies, I was always in the dark – always left alone. When others talked about how awesome their nights went, I’ll probably just sit and watch them or even leave in annoyance.
With the little sense I’m guessing you have, its evident I’m not coming back to you. Not today, not tomorrow, never, Ever.
Look. You’re a product you know? I can’t buy this product without having a taste of it. The pay is attractive, the packaging is attractive but you never let me taste the goodness of the product. I tried so hard, just so hard but to no avail. I was kept in a zone I couldn’t even describe.
Anyway, darkness comes in the night and bringeth joy in the morning. I was going to wait for you but I couldn’t stand it. I almost confronted you about it one particular time but as usual, you didn’t even allow me land before you flared up and brought up another topic.
*naa, you shouldn’t tell her this*
*oh shut it and talk bitch*
My head is pounding yo!
You’re what they call – Zombie of the first order.
Zombie oh, Zombie
Zombie oh, Zombie.
Zombie no go go unless you tell am to go, zombie
Zombie no go stop unless you tell am to stop, zombie
Zombie no go turn unless you tell am to turn, zombie
Zombie no go think unless you tell am to think, zombie
Zombie oh, Zombie
Zombie oh, Zombie.
In as much as that might have been rude, I’m totally honest. I was totally disappointed. You were too foolish in all aspects.
You can’t keep the cake without ants going visiting you know? Oh yes. I’m sure you understand. You shouldn’t be all that dumb or are you?
I’m actually going to believe you didn’t try keeping the cookie inside the cookie jar for 90 days? Oh no. I hope that wasn’t the actual plan. Sweetheart, no nigga (except he’s gay) is going to stay with you for so long without eating cake. I even managed 32 days and believe me, it wasn’t all that easy.
Well well, Remain who you are. You’re still beautiful Zee. And can find another to perfectly love you – Just ensure you give him the cake. I’ve found another.
I hate to admit it but all through our relationship. That’s what you were ‘A zombie’.
And if you ever get to find another, look for another strategy. This would make guys run away.
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