Archive | January 2013

Mr Wrong Jog On

Lyrical Healer

I Am Present. I Am Enough.

Meet Winsome Duncan aka Lyrical Healer. She is intelligent, gorgeous, inspiring and super talented yet she too, has had various encounters with Mr Wrong. Have a read of her fabulous contribution Mr Wrong Jog On– an ode to all women who have lived and learned from men who should have valued them more that the Love you have for Your Self is The Greatest Love of All.Peace and Love

Daniella x

Mr Wrong Jog On…

There was something in the wind today, it made me stop, and realise a change is coming. I knew whole heartedly, I had to let him go. Maybe it was because he rarely returned my calls. Why has Mr. Wrong got me singing another sad song? Got me thinking of heartbreak classics like:

• Love Don’t Know Live Here Anymore
• Love is a Losing Game
• Un-break my Heart
• End of the Road
• I’d Rather go Blind
• Heartbreak Hotel
• A View to a Kill

I mean the list goes on and on. I always tend to listen and engage in sad music, when his rejection disturbs and destroys my spirit. “You’re a strong woman I heard him say.” I laugh through my salted tears as I aimlessly try to pull it together in the final frame.

One thing that was transparent to me, Mr Wrong wanted a booty call from the get go. It was as plain as the nose on my face. Now I sit here with no embrace and a longing to know why is unrequited love such a bitch?

Mr Wrong sang a song of ‘I’m just getting out of a relationship’ which chorused into “I got plenty girls to select from here there and everywhere”. The most intimate part of me he desired and all he was offering was the magic stick. We talked of bargaining service and how we could best service each other but never ever about the potential of me being wifey. If I was his lover for the moments he needed me, I was accepted and if not I was banished to the non-existed call back list. He had no love for the inner thigh, let alone the dreams that died in my womb. Mr Wrong just wants to use and abuse because of some maladjusted issues in his previous history.

He never saw the tears on my pillow that ached for his attention. I cried for days, longing to hold him. Puffy eyelids, which would never receive him. How could he not see the Healer in me? Where did I go wrong? Was it the need for my care that made me call as he beckoned me in my nightmares? It might just be the fact that he is a self-centred ass. Super absorbed and so selfish that he cares not for the hearts he trashes.

So where am I now? I am standing on the edge of time because Mr Wrong does not want me. I often wondered, dissected, deliberated and analysed his actions with it could be this it could be that. What if I was smaller, darker or richer? Would he open his eyes to the woman that wanted to share her world with him? Guess not.

I rot in my pain and on occasions turned deranged but today I found the golden courage to love again. Yeah love the pain, the inner me that bleeds all over tormented thoughts of his dismissal. I just knew enough was enough. It’s time to get tough and recognise my Queendom. Too many of my sisters are down trodden by toxic sexual interaction but really needed divine protection but instead have fallen into webs of deceptions, abusers and users. Cupid please dust off my heart for it is covered in broken promises. I write this so that some poor lady can see their reflection and mend their shattered hearts. Who needs another?

• Mr Wrong
• Mr No-Good
• Mr Down-low
• Mr Wasteman
• Mr Tag A Long
• Mr Abandonment
• Mr Liar Liar Pants On Fire
• Mr I Can’t Keep My Penis In My Pants

He had not even got credit on his phone and dates are non-existence. Yet he still whispers ‘Can I come to your place for dinner?’ Oh please, stop, don’t want to hear it no more, tell it to the violins. Mr. Can’t work – won’t work and I am losing sleep. Oh please! This is just one experience, some thoughts, one dream that never saw daylight and died along with vampires at first dawn. I wish for self-confidence now and inner peace.

This is one of Healer’s tales that speaks into the spirited woman globally and changes lives on an invisible levels. I feel you. We all want answers as to why we keep opening the door to Mr. Wrong. Woman love thy self-enough, to walk away and restore. You are worth it. Ignite the flame of dignity and follow me on the path of resurrection. This one is for the ladies because I have heard you singing a bitter song. Fold yourself in Angel wings and embrace the harsh reality. Mr. Wrong- get gone, pack your things and jog on! I do not want to be bogged down by your narcissistic alter ego. I could say lot more and make it really raw however I will leave it there. I will no longer grieve for unrequited love. I honoured myself enough to say goodbye and farewell. If I never see you again it will be too soon.

A woman scorned is enough said. These times are dread. I do believe in the power of goodbye. I never had more clarity then what I process currently. If I ever fall in love again he will be my:

■Friend
■Soul mate
■Confidante
■Lover
■A hand to hold

True love does exist. It flourishes from within. Never stop believing that you will love again. You see I heard it in the wind and she whispered ‘It’s time to let him go.’

Lyrical Healer

Lyrical Healer, is a poetess, songstress, author, entrepenuar and fundraiser . Please check out her brilliant blog at Lyrical Healer Blog This incredible woman has accomplished amazing things and is only at the start of her success! She recently raised money to go out to Haiti three years after the terrible earthquake to offer a positive contributiuon towards the reconstruction and growth of Haiti and it’s people.

She has also just finished her film The Healer In Me which was aired on The Community Channel. Check out her trailer here The Healer In Me Trailer  and watch the film at The Healer In Me Film.

Keep on doing ya thang girl you are an empowering inspiration 🙂

If YOU would like to contribute to my book Mr Wrong in the form of stories or poems please, contact me at dingdongitsmrwrong@yahoo.co.uk and you to can be featuring here on my blog.

For more info check out My About Page and read some of my earlier posts for excerpts of the book Excerpts

Milton the Mortician written by Sara at The Adventures of My Dysfunctional Love Life.

Meet Sara at The Adventures of My Dysfunctional Love Life  Read her hilariously and cleverly told dating disaster with Milton the Mortician. “Another date where she leaves with her life!” If you have any humorous dating disaster stories please post here or email me at dingdongitsmrwrong@yahoo.co.uk The best ones will make the book! Get those entries in.

All the best for 2013 and may it bring you an abundance of love, peace and happiness and hopefully Mr Right. x

ImageMilton the Mortician

Last night I went on a blind date with a man named Milton at a bar called The Magician in the Lower East Side.  I arrived first and was dismayed to find that there were, in fact, no magicians at The Magician.  There were a lot of gay men and balloons, however.  As I sat and waited at the bar, an old man with wooden teeth and a partially-healed head wound sat as close to me as he could.  ”You’re good looking, I can tell… Who’s keeping you warm tonight?.. You’re not waiting until marriage are you?” were just a few of his disturbing attempts to lure me.  At last Milton arrived.  Although I had hoped someone named Milton would be wearing slacks, a top hat, and a monocle, he was actually wearing jeans and a purple shirt.  We moved to a table and I realized that I had set up a date with an undertaker.  Not really, I think he worked for Fox News or something… but his slow, deep voice and lack of any facial expression whatsoever made me wonder if he delivered eulogies in his free time.

We stayed at The Magician for exactly one drink before he suggested we go to a goth bar down the street.  Everyone there was dressed in their best gothic attire and it was incredibly dark and smoky.  I struggled to keep the conversation going as Milton the Mortician stared so hard at the candle on the table, I wondered if he was trying to will the flame out with his soul.  When the girl sitting at the table to my right threw up all over the floor, Milton suggested we head to a bar in Brooklyn instead.  His exact words were “I’m feeling good.  Are you good, kid?”  Umm, yes?  He was paying for a cab, so naturally I found this suggestion to be to my advantage.

The third location of the evening was a metal bar in South Williamsburg.  It was covered in all sorts of music/death paraphernalia and had a giant wheel you can spin to win gross things to drink.  I spun and got a Guinness.  Gross.  I pondered why Milton kept prolonging the evening if he didn’t have anything to say.  He was cute: tall, dark, broad features… but had strange matter in his hair and something on his nostril that had been bugging me since the magic bar.  I studied his stoic expression and silent stare and decided that maybe I was wrong about him being a mortician.  He was most likely a zombie.  As my beer came to an end, he still hadn’t eaten my brains, so I got up to use the restroom.  When I returned to the table, I saw that he was on his OKCupid app, checking out available girls in the area.  OKCupid has a feature called “Locals” where, if you turn it on, it shows your general location to other people looking to meet for a quick-fix in your proximity.  The feature freaks me out and reminds me of Grindr, so I always keep mine off.  Perusing for another girl to meet up with while you’re still out with the first one?  That’s a no no.

I started to put on my coat and he came back to life for a second, saying “You want to know why I chose you to go out with?”  Well, you make it sound like you are either shopping for the best deal on cold cuts at your local deli or that I am about to be your next victim in a long line of serial slayings… but why, pray tell, was I chosen? ”Because you look exactly like Aubrey Plaza.”  Apparently The Mortician was a Parks and Recreation fan.  The only reason I know about this actress is because I looked her up after someone mistook me for her and asked for my autograph at a bagel store in Boston.  Hey, I’ll take it… she’s cute, right?  Way better than when an old man with a cane told me I looked like Flo from the Progressive commercials and I shed a tear at my part-time job.  I told Milton he looked like Adam Beach, who, for those of you who don’t know Law and Order SVU, was the worst actor ever to star on that show.  He really did look a lot like him though.  If Adam Beach was a zombie.

Outside, we gave each other a dry goodbye and he took off down the street, presumably to go meet another OKCupid girl and stare silently at inanimate objects for a couple more hours.

Ahhh, another date where I leave with my life