Of A Dear Beaton Letter

Confession: I have always wanted to to be immortal. That is why I write.

Of all the hopeless dreams I could aspire to, I picked the most hopeless, I picked immortality.#curiousmuse#amwriting

— ~B (@Beatonm5) August 23, 2017

but maybe its not such a hopeless dreams:

Dear Beaton   By Mable

My dearest Beaton;
I want to immortalize you in the only way I know how, so I have decided to write you a letter.

A letter, I promised to write a year ago but life, adulting and good old plain procrastination got in the way.
Finally, the way is clear, the time is now and the  dictionary has yielded flowery words that I can use, flowery words worthy of you.
I had to dig deep into those dusty old pages….I was crossed eyed this week, thankfully my glasses hid my eyes. Glasses that make me look like a sexy librarian, I’m told….But see only the best will do for you. Donald Trump does not have the best words. That honor belongs to the dictionary, as I found out this week.
I’m rambling…..I tend to that a lot when I’m nervous…
Have I ever told you how much I love That Writer Chic? Well I do….I really do. See, I first came across your name, Beaton, on her blog. In her comment section to be exact. And thus the stalking began….And I quickly fell in love with your style of writing. I mean head over heels, poetry spewing, boom box over my head kind of love….. It was/is more than just a writer’s crush, you see.
Why? you ask… Its the effortless humor. The way you draw the reader in make them (in this case, me) feel like there’s no one else you’d rather be having coffee with. The way you make the most mundane of activities seem like an adventure. The stories you tell…..its also the way you encourage people. The time you take to not only read my attempts at putting a point across but to also comment. Its your friendliness and your big heart. It’s the fact that even never having physically met you, I consider you a good friend (no, I have not friend-zoned you).
I would call us kindred spirits. Do you agree?
Do you believe in reincarnation and past lives? I do not, however the kinship I feel towards you must mean that at some point, in a past life we knew each other. Because even without really knowing you, I feel like I know you (does that make sense?)…
May be we were (and this is the first thing that comes to mind because I’m a hopeless romantic) husband and wife.
I can just picture it in my mind’s eye; In the Africa-of-old setting. You’re a king and I’m your third, but definitely your favorite wife. The first two you had to marry for political reasons and I was your love match. You spend all your time with me talking and planning and laughing, which is frowned upon by the elders because no man should talk to woman like that, let alone a king of a mighty tribe……but you and I, we are rebels….because that’s what we are, rebels.
Or, may be we were twins, born at a time when twins were an abomination, thrown away into a forest, raised by monkeys and surviving because that’s what we are, survivors.
Or may be you were the mad man in the village square, the mad man that could carry a tune and would sing sad songs with a beautiful voice and I was the village damsel who had a soft spot for the mad man. And the only one brave enough to step close and and sing with the mad man. And the villagers would call us crazy. They’d go saying things like, “Mzee Ngundi’s daughter has been corrupted by the mad man, she is now crazy.”….
But we wouldn’t care because that’s what we are, slightly off kilter, certifiably insane, absolutely crazy.
Its the romantic in me talking again; perhaps we were star crossed lovers, like Romeo and Juliet, Tristan and Isolde, Layla and Majnun (pretty interesting story)
Or perhaps we caused too much havoc together that the universe decided to separate us this time around, putting quite a bit of land between us but the universe did not count on there being a way for us to meet…social media. WordPress to be exact where you were busy becoming the muse and I was still experiencing growing pains….and somehow, our worlds collided.
Shifting from blogger to wordpress is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made…it goes without saying that the outcome has been very desirable, the amazing people I’ll call my forever friends, I found here one of them being Beaton  *insert shy emoji here*
You’re such a cool person, Even your name is cool.
You know that question that is usually asked to people that have fallen in love? When did you know that you know?
I’ll answer it with this story. This is when I knew ..
You have no idea how much your words have come to mean to me. They have gotten me through many a dark day.
I look forward to finally meeting you physically, giving you a big hug, objectifying your abs (I apologize in advance for that), tugging your hair to see if stretches and helping you count the white in your beards. Yes, I’m crazy like that.
Keep writing B….keeping being the awesomeness that you are.

All My Love
Mable

Confession number 2 I happen to really really love letters too

~B

PS Mable I hope you dont mind but I had to share this letter because I heart this ♥♥♥

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Of My Father’s Watch

My Father’s Watch

My father had a watch, a Seiko Kinetic automatic watch, stainless steel with 17 jewels. You know the kind you don’t wind up, and as long as you wear it regularly, somehow it self-winds, and ticks on and on and on…. It came in a black velvet box with a warranty card that declared a lifetime guarantee, I have always wondered how long a life time guarantee lasts, whose lifetime do they mean when they say lifetime guarantee…….

My father had a watch a Seiko Kinetic; he wore it every day from the day he got it, a Christmas present from some duty-free shop at some airport somewhere. I do not know how much it cost but I am sure it wasn’t a price one sneezed at… He wore it so much that the skin beneath it was lighter toned than the rest of his arm. When I try to remember him, I remember him wearing that watch. He never did but  I can imagine him saying to me “Son, a gentleman must always know what time it is, you do what needs to be done, on time, when it needs to be done, in time, and then after,  you can do what you want with all the time you have left , but first you do what needs to be done…”

The only time he was without that watch, was when my little hands were throwing dust to dust and everyone was crying.

My father had a watch a Seiko Kinetic, he made me a promise that when I could tell the time like a grown-up he would get me one for my birthday. But death, the untimely visitor came knocking, knocking down even the best laid plans, just like that….. If he could have given me a last present he would have given me that watch for my birthday; I dont remember if he was the sort of man to give grand speeches, maybe I was simply too young to have really known him or had proper father to son talk but if he could he would have said

“My son, we have only life, love and time in this world, The Creator gave you life, you can find love all by yourself and as for time I didn’t start the clock, no one can turn it back, I cannot give it you, only this clock to watch it tick away……..”

I have a watch, a Seiko Kinetic, it used to be father’s now I have it and I watch it ticking. The hands of every watch, are clippers, trimming us away tick tock tick tock. The hands of time an illusion lulling us into believing we can tame time, control it even, but every second used is discarded,

Discarded

rushing off

slipping from my palms,

through the gaps

in my fingers like a leaky jar…..

TIME

never stopping in this moment

 

What happens

to all the seconds

tipped into the bin of the past?

Discarded

then gathered up into a tapestry of memories and history……  

I have this watch, a Seiko Kinetic, I don’t know if they still make them like this because today marks the day I have watched it tick for 21 years, before that it was my father’s watch. I look at it and I ask myself how much time do we have, not how many hours or seconds in a day but how much time, do we have….

……The watch keeps on ticking and it doesn’t care how much time we think we have because in the end, it is never enough, it always runs out….. That’s what gives life meaning to know that time runs out…….

My father had this watch, this Seiko Kinetic, I have it now, I watch it tick and I make every moment count………….

~B

Of The Handwriting Tag

I was tagged by Josephine  whose blog joseyphina is one of my faves ♥♥♥

The rules are simple. You just have to write the following instructions on a piece of paper, take a picture of it and post it.

These are the instructions:

• Write your name.
• Write your blog’s url.
• Write: The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog.
• What are you writing with.
• Draw your favorite emoticon.
• Write a silly message.
• Write who you want to tag.

Thanks

here is mine:

leggo ^_^ Samira, Pineapple, Colleen, Mable and A Headless Chicken and anyone else who feels like showing off their handwriting to the world feel free to participate in this challenge .

~B

PS So my blog is 3 years old today, it wants cake and a lil laughter ^_^ and I dont follow instructions much ha!