his eyes gazed at the setting sun in the hill cased horizon. Orange and red. like a wild fire was consuming the hillside. “beautiful…” he murmured to himself as he blew up a puff of smoke from his mouth. in his hand is the dieing end of what was his last limited edition Cuban cigar . ‘red…’ he thought to himself and smiled. a color that resonated so ironically well with the state of his life.
tears stung his eyes as his gaze continued to be transfixed on the reddish orange haze of the setting sun. and like new born streams in a desolate dry land his tears set themselves free.he wept bitterly…loudly….without the macho en semblance and male bravado he was well known for. and when he was done weeping…when no more tears could fill his red eyes…he took his silver Jesse James rifle and rubbed it against his linen trouser…bracing himself for the events that will follow. and as if to say goodbye he gazed at the now dark horizon one last time…a thin line of orange light stretched the entire mountain range…gracefully diminishing with the passing time carrying with it the remains of the embers of hope that that lit up his eyes.
with a single choke of pain and fear and adrenaline…he put the muzzle in his mouth , heaved heavily and …….
his name was Abbi. he was eulogized as a free spirit…a seeker of adventure…the only son of his now depressed rich and famous mother.
such Chivalry…
abbi was once calm, cool…collected even. his was a childhood that lacked nothing save for the presence of a father.
one day during school he was made fun of…that he was a mamas boy…that he was a wuss…that he couldn’t do anything for himself without his mother…that he was not a man…that he will never become one…he was five years old then and if he could reminisce and soul search…he would find out that that was the day he died inside. his young and impressionable mind learnt that to be a man was to be aggressive…that a man took what he wanted when he wanted it…that a man did not need the help of a woman…that a woman was low and just a means to an end…
it is with this mindset that Abbi grew to become the ruthless capitalist he was and eventually the billionaire he was at the time of his death….a lifetime of stepping on the toes of so many and the bad wishes and bitter painful words of those he had hurt with his feigned masculinity hang over him like a noose.
in the end…all he had was his miserable self a cigar and the muzzle of his high end rifle…and his life came to an end by his own hand.
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Join Us on Saturday the 21st of May 2016 as we demystify the slow cancer that is Negative masculinity…..come let us have a candid discussion laced with poetry and music and snacks…
anika254 