Wednesday, September 06, 2006

THE letters!

Got this from my good friend J,thanks.Thought i should share! Its kinda long but bear with me.

Do you remember those letters that jamaas used to write to chicks
they had met after Music and Drama fest.


Here's one of the many letters a friend of a pal's brother, cousin's uncle baby daddy came across a friend's locker in High
School:

Sunday, July 10, 1988 (0159Hrs)

To my dearest, sweetest, fondest, fantastic, extra-ordinary, paragon of
beauty a.k.a Lizzy

I hope this missive meets you in a fabulous state of metabolism, if so
doxology. My principal aim of writing this letter to you is to
gravitate
your mind towards a matter of global and universal importance to my
ego,
which has been troubling my soul.

The matter is so important that even as I am writing my adrenalin is
rocking
100 on the Reitcher scale, my temperature is rising, the wind vane of
my
mind is pointing North, South and East at the same time while the
convex
mirror in my eyes has only your divine image at it's focal point.
Indeed
when I sleep you are the one in my medulla oblongata and I dream about
you.
I went out to sea in my dream and I saw you; surrounded by H20 and you,
your
majesty rose from the abdomen of the sea like Yemoja, the avatar of
beauty.


Oh, Lord be with us! We are thy servants! As you can see, I am in a
serious
dilemma and I want you to take my matter seriously. At this junction
what
our Lord said on this matter is germane. He says we should ask and we
shall
be given, we should seek and we will find, and that we should knock and
it
will be opened unto us. I am- on this 10th day of the seventh month in
the
year of our Lord, one thousand, nine hundred and eighty eight- asking,
seeking and knocking at your door. My prayer is that thou should open
so
that thy servant can enter. I want to wake up in the morning and see
only
your face.

I want you to be the only sugar in my tea, the only fly in my ointment,
the
butter on my bread, the gray matter of my system, the oxygen in my
lungs,
the planet of my universe, the wall clock of my room and the conveyor
belt
of my soul. I pray that you realize the gargantuan nature of my
predicament. If you refuse, my life will be like tea without sugar,
like a
snail without shell, an Xmas goat without a horn; in fact I'll become
an
orphan.

What is life if I can't wake up in the morning and behold your face?
You
model of pulchritude, patiently created by God on a Sunday morning
before He
went on a deserved holiday. Please Lizzy, let me be your Romeo. Make me
your
Adam oh my Eve, for you were made for me. Shakespeare said it
all: If music be the food of love, play on. I want to emphasize,
universally
and responsibly, that you are love itself. You are the metaphor,
oxymoron,
thesis, antithesis, irony, gerund, conjunction and the adverb of love.
Let
me also say that the geography of your body is a permanent alleluia.
Your
body exudes not ammonia, urea and iodine - You are too beautiful for
that!
What I see in your body is milk and honey.

At this juncture brevity is the soul of wit. A stitch in time saves
nine.
Procrastination is the thief of time. An opportunity once lost can
never be
regained. Make hay while the sun shines. All that glitters is not gold.
The
journey of a thousand miles begins but with a single step. What
God has put together let no man put asunder. To be a man is not an easy
task
even if God's time is the best. But time waits for no man. A man
without
love is like a fish out of water. I know you are a sagacious girl. If
you
like the veracity of what I am saying, please fill the attached form
and let
me have it pronto. The mark at the bottom of this page is a kiss from
me to
you.

I remain, Your beloved, faithful, loyal, One and only admirer.
Extractineous
Hanington Omolo Son Of Omondi.