It's Not Irreplaceable, But the Memories Are!

Right alongside my frustration at having lost my wallet, which I only realised late this afternoon, I have been listening to the very sexy Beyonce Knowles' hit Irreplaceable. I even downloaded the MIDI version today onto my NOKIA 6610 from SAFARI.com's mobile site.

Either way, the wallet is lost, and it is this side of frustrating. But no longer. It took me almost aeons before realising that my bank card was in my wallet! I had to rush to the bank, with a typed-up letter requesting I wanted a cancellation.



Irreplaceable lyrics
Being the very efficient ECOBANK that they are, they called me some thirty minutes ago to confirm they had blocked my card. However, because I did not request a new one, I have to go back tomorrow and fill in a form anew.

Pisses me off no-end.

Small price to pay for my carelessness I suppose.

Either way, I am confident I know what happened to my wallet. No-one stole it actively. However, given that my wallet must have been lying where I walked by since last night up until this morning, where many people have walked past, I can consider it stolen. To boot, the theft is after the fact. Unless by some miracle, it will still be lying there.

What further compounds my mini-grief are the memories associated with that wallet. This is the first time I am losing a wallet, and one with these things:

my hospital cards

some negligible amount of money

a picture of my brother and myself when we were very small

my bank card

an unreedeemed mobile phone voucher

The rest are replaceable, but the memories that are conjured from looking at the picture of my brother and myself are irreplaceable...:-(

In Memoriam: Samuel D. Bensah (blue shorts): 6 Sept 1973 - 8 May 1991

Hurry up and come back was the last thing she said to her son
The day his life was taken
She didn't know he wouldn't come back
He died from (...)
And now her little boy is gone

from: http://www.onlylyrics.com/song.php?id=29277

Always in our hearts, dear brother. Sixteen Years. And still Counting.

Rest in perfect peace. May your goodness continue to affect our lives...

What a Difference a Mayday Makes

Emboldened by what sissoula wrote about:

Turning 30 just kinda happens, but the other stuff won't, unless you make it happen.

I decided to use MayDay to do some serious reflection...mostly on the thriller I'm writing.

Over and above many scribblings, I realised that I need a strategy to write something about the chapters every day. I know Daniel has implored me to "write and write some more" after getting rid of the first re-write. To boot, I think it's important to note that that discipline of writing something is important for my novel, as much as my own reflective thinking on life around me.

With that thought-out, I decided to further create a character that would bring the whole plot, what with its deliberate twists and whatnot, to a thrilling climax. I realised that one of the murderers needed a criminal father who would be an instigator for the plot that has many sub-plots.

I have to confess that I was somewhat influenced by The Departed movie, which I reviewed rather strangely below.

Then again, we're all influenced by something in any creative venture we assume, so I guess I have little to worry about.

Have yourselves a great weekend!