O.K – sista gurl needs to get a grip
She needs to give King George and Queen Victoria their eras back
Cause the Jane Austens and dem Bronte gurls
With their Rochesters – Darcies – Binglies
Willobies and Wickams is doing a number on her
Their old world charm befuddling her brain
Makes her want to write really bad poetry
Oh love – where for art thou?

And then into her period drama brew
She has sprinkled some red light district lustfully spun
By Lisa Kleypas – you know – to add some carnal flavour
To Austen’s tales of love – steeped in practical sensibility
Marred by pride and prejudice – but wholly reflective of
The emotionally and sexually repressed culture of the day
Though Hardliner knows that back then civilised society
Hoed real hardcore underneath all that gentility
Mr. Darcy most probably laid down his pipe so dope
That he had Ms. Elizabeth Bennet speaking in tongues
All sweat out and comatose on his shit

Hummmmmm – Hardliner sighs
Still caught up in her nineteenth century corsets
And pianoforte playing reverie
Oh – where for art thou – sweet love?

Gurl get a grip – put on some Burning Spear or something
Ms. Ego quips – you’re embarrassing me
That chick definitely lives on the first rock from the sun
Fantasising about a period in history – which in most likelihood
Would have had her ass shipped awf to a West Indian Plantation
Aint no tea and crumpets with Mr. Darcy at Pemberley for you Boo
You would be no closer to that pianoforte
Than a pitchfork in the hands of Queen Victoria

That Ms. Ego is a piece of work
But she does jar Hardliner into cold hard reality
Enough for sista gurl to realise that in this experience
There is a divine lesson to be learned
But what really tunes her in – is the funky stench
Of a breakthrough hogging the air on Planet Hardliner
From Nina Simone to Jane Austen – she muses

Yall can’t get more eclectic than that

Well variety is the spice of life
Her Irates add – dry humour dusting their tone

Ummm humph?
Well in this case it don’t make no sense
Cause Hardliner can’t understand her unnatural attraction
To nineteenth century England
It is so uncanny – at times she could almost push past
The energy barriers of time to experience the sights
Sounds and flavours of these eras
It gats sista gurl entertaining thoughts of past lives
She shakes herself uneasily – ugh – no more of that shit
It is freaky enough that she’s gats the hawts for Colonel Brandon

Yall are free to step in at anytime
She announces – hot sauce lacing her tone

There is no need to be snippy

Well this breakthrough is acting like it is not sure
Whether it is coming or going

In other words you require?

It does not take a genius Hardliner to see where
They are going with this
“Your Queen needs to learn how to squarely stand in humility”
She remembers their counsel last lesson ago

It is so refreshing to know that you listen Boo
They are on the roll with the sarcasm today

I need your help with birthin this breakthrough

Everything you need is already within you baby
To acknowledge the epiphany about love that
Threatens to unhinge you
We are here as always to guide this process
We’ll hold your hand – we’ll hold you up
But your queen can face this
What do Mr. Darcy and Colonel Brandon represent?
Why do they resonate so deeply in your dome?

They are both emotionally elusive and difficult to read
Why would they appeal to her in anyway?
They work that tormented – I need saving from myself vybe
Ooooooh – she gasps – stopping abruptly
As she catches the fringes of the breakthrough that she is birthin
Or maybe it is the sharp burst of labour pain ripping out her insides
Robbing her of breath – thought and speech
Fear rises from her gut like a vicious bile
She does not want to proceed any further
Cause this here breakthrough is freaking enormous

Come on Boo – you’ve got this

She wills courage from unknown spheres within
And finds her quiet place – there she ceases to need
Or to want anything other than to vybe with her God

Where for art thou – oh love?

And that is what this is – good Gawd
The crux of this breakthrough
That romantic tortured love manifested in Mr. Darcy and Colonel Brandon
They represent the elusive love that Hardliner finds most irresistible
Aint nothing like trying to free an emotionally repressed man

And has that been working for you Boo?
They ask – all sweetness and light

Hardliner winces from the sharp sting of their question
How did her affair with Jane Austen’s
Romantic protagonists morph into this mess?
Plain and simple – Hardliner don’t want to deal with it

You have no control over this labour chile
Push it out

No – it will unhinge me

And if they say anything about it freeing her
She gon free Ms. Ratchet!

And then what?
You will still be in this space
You will still feel the urge to birth this spiritual awareness
And until you do – you will remain in this state of paralysis
That is real talk Boo

Oh Gawd – Hardliner moans
She got rid of her Snow White Complex
Now she gats to deal with some Jane Austen-esque shit

Help me
She calls to her Irates

No Boo – you need to score that victory for yourself
They reply firmly

O.K she gon send her Ego into cardiac arrest
And admit that on some level she craves the same kind of
Romantic love and unbridled passion flooding the pages
Of a Kleypas historical novel
Ooooooh and gurlfriend would love to unhinge an uptight man
Like Mr. Darcy into aristocratic insensibility
Colonel Brandon though – is a military man and looks like
The type who gats just enough of uncouth in him
Mixed with that deep – unwavering love to unhinge her

Oh – where for art thou – deepest love?
Her soul unabashedly crooning its long held secret love song

Yow – make that shit go away!
Hardliner hurls her pisstossicity at the Irates
Admitting to herself that these period masterpieces
Provide an escape into a world she wishes mirrors her own life
Is so – so –
Dang – makes her feel so – so – blaaaaaah!

Your vocabulary is far more expansive that that Boo
They comment drily

Empty

Try again

Hardliner scowls

Inadequate – like something is missing

Now we’re getting somewhere – they approve

Hardliner realises that these magical love stories
Remind her of her messy dance with marriage
Where for art thou – joy
Passion – romance

Hidden from your world due to Ms. Ego’s fear of
And chokehold on vulnerability

What if she opens her heart space to vulnerability?
If she breaks down the rest of her barriers
Created from her blood – sweat fear and anger
What if that is not enough?

Humph – now that is the question
This is what all this huffing and puffing has been about
After you have bared your soul – laid it on marriage’s alter
What if your offering still isn’t enough?
What will you do then Boo?

Everything around her and within has stilled
Even Oya’s wild change winds
This stillness pervades the very fabric of the space she occupies
As though awaiting her reply

Shit!
Well for now – this gon be a breakthrough interrupted