Rianna Shaikh's Blog, page 20

Just sit still et read

       Dearest,300 pages through, a book of letters et I swear I was laughing so much I thought my characters were sad creatures. Absolutely not, some will leave you concerned.

This book amuses me thoroughly. As in however do children have such capacity to be forthright?
Senses.

   Hence  I have been reading for 8 hours of a straight lengthy read,  but thrilling equally. One hundred letters left, wish me  bonne Chance dearest you.
Missing my tea et my chocolats.
#workaddictYours.RS

 

Inside joke or inside job?

 

      Dearest,   Like honestly. She can write you books, et read you stories. She could introduce you to proper manners et tea time 7pm sharp. She can’t bake though

             So gone. Et so lost. So done. So had it. No more stories for this one, eh?        La fin.

 

You can laugh, but it’s real business that writer.
Wanted mort or alive.

 

Your one et only storyteller,

Rianna K Shaikh

The letters/ Dearest Self

                   Dearest,

Imagine a book filled with letters from children to parents or to themselves or to me or to you or to anyone they please.

My imagination is captivating when it is et when it’s frightful it’s gruff.

This is really a book from the insightful heart of children, it’s probably dark to a lot of you but the heart isn’t the brightest place. It’s a place where as children we harbor every bit of emotion et then we replay it. Like the  dancing ballerina carousel music box. We twist its golden key again et again.
Until she’s broken.It’s a lot to do still my dears, 400 pages of reading

Inner peace et tea,

RS

Dearest self (new book)

             My dearest, It’s easier said than  done. I care to say that it’s hard for everyone to know either.
From my desk to you. 
I have so much work piled on but I refuse to a thing.Such is life,RS 

Abouts then

            Dearest,

Today was the first day I literally walked all abouts the outside. I am not at all and outdoor girl. I think when anyone sees me out they get worried because I am not in tune with nature.

But I do have a friend,

REd Fin, when he sees me outside he swings on the trees et whistle as if he knows me. It’s enchanting but I then realize he’s an actual bird

Then I never set foot on the greens, because I am reminded that there are actually snakes et bugs et all kinds of things. Then in the pool I swim et then I realize there’s this little frog et he follows me.  I call him anxious Jack, like little guy please go Homme!But I fear he’s actually home et I feel like I intrude his privacy when I swim. Imagine that, but when it’s warm, it’s hot et when the breeze barge in, well it then storms et when it storms my pool overflows almost into my formal living room et then I scream,

 

“What the Fudge!”
But since we are talking of fudge, Newport’s fudge is the best, I have judged. I miss the mansion on the cliff et the summer breeze adrift. The ebb et flow of what was then.

 

But this is now .

   Newport RIHence, today was good, I got to see the things that most of you see daily et I found beauty in it. It’s just not me to be all abouts. I Suppose you knew that. I am yet to edit my new publication, dearest self. Then there is tea et all kinds of fancy oui?

Merci  for being here.
Where I belong, ma maison. Yours forever,RS

Non like Marie Antoinette

    Dearest, Merci beaucoup?I guess. Should I respond with my utterly insane vernacular et witty personality?

 

          My response :

 

“Oh please I am but so eager to hear from all of your greatness, I bow to your sense of power.”

(Sarcastic accent)   

Sipping tea with my Marie Antoinette
look. 
Hence with my most mannerism I say,    Please et no thank you. As in I’ll pay you to get someone published, Oui you are right however, I am butAwkwardly talented

 

your awkward storyteller,

RS

To be like the map of his heart

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       Dearest  octobre,

I vow very little things, but what I do vow to do is let go of all the things that had betrayed me. As I figure out my great progress in the world of writing, I shall write things that may leave my readers beyond in awe, not because I am so profound but since I am in that much awe of what I hold forth in my hands.

Et that which has broken me to the seas of mére captivating sights.

As a writer I cannot hold back, I may not necessarily try but being the lady I am I cannot do my best with proper purpose, without understanding that the most undesirable of things must be penned. or I hath failed little me. I should like to care less of what the world thinks of me, like my dearest father. The greatest man to traverse the seas et the land in this world though,he be the most heartless of kings, he’s still my mon pére.

  Still may I be like him, exactly like the map of his heart. To all of you seeking a tale to captivate your witts end, I have just started. I must get it droite dearest October, may you be the month that utterly defies gravity et teach the world  the power of time. Merci à toi.

 

chapeau à toi père,
RIanna Kate Shaikh 

Sophie B whispered to me …

       Dearest world,

   No matter how you arrange it, it spells the same. I am trying to focus et this song came on.

 

Then I wrote,

“For it is very unfortunate this thing call love,

There can be no words for your now faded light my dearest. Like night et day we both belong apart.”

-Sophie Becks  
yours ever 12th never,RS

Read carefully madhaters

 

 

Dearest you,

I swear I need to stop checking emails, but yah it’s like that

 

yours,

RS

Truth spoken

  Darlings,I spent 3 hours listening to Chopin Via my surround music System, oh it echoed loudly throughout the walls. The best thing to happen to living in a more aged home. The funny happened, I checked my emails et dear God, this is life.

I got a message, quote, which I needed. Vincent Van  Goey.
(I know it’s not gooey)!

Look at the words closely. I think as writer, it’s mandatory to be who we are, use what we are, how we feel, let our internal riffs be guided et absorbed by the nature of our feel.

Without changing its language to be appropriated.

I know but deaRy Van had his serious issues.  I fear Only in your minds do you realize in the middle of trauma, that there is a great peel of grace to receive.
I humbly swear to you, lately my emails are so beautiful by the words of you all, merci beaucoup my darlings. On a diff note I saw the French version of Sir Van et it made me realize that it is so,

Our very frailty to life adds to the summon of our calling. When I was little I was very queer, I hated the days, the company, the walks, the many codes of conduct that as a child one must adhere etc. The only thing I  adored was the utter depletion of daylight et the waves of the seaside. I loved my whole existence away from the worldly banter. Hence, most people that are highly creative live their lives in mére seclusion in such a manner that it often seems very unhealthy to the common world. 

But I fear creativity cannot be unfolded with noise. It shan’t. It is so I think when I finally move to my old chateau in France, I will be complete. Obviously my husband will not be okay with that beacause I amRianna Katey Shaikh et I am so so soo loved!
My reaction:

I kid not.  France is calling me et I have lived just about everywhere. Holy Moses can I like live further away from civility of humanity?They say happiness cannot be bought,
Umm okayyyyy if you think so,
but I beg to answer:“Did you yet in your common language ever live in an archaic chateau in the south of France?”

Do so before you make dainty sentences when you are intoxicated only for the world to read

       Oui I threw a lampshade.Remember Louise Amélie?  That was France people.

Well good luck to him keeping me here, oui oui.

your writer that cannot stay put,

Rianna K Shaikh
ps. Yes I’m working just taking a little break to swim et eat chocolats which may take approximately 5.4 hours

   Oh then after thou swim, I shall need tea. And a masseuse, well let’s juste keep the day simple.
               S Fin!