Rianna Shaikh's Blog, page 21

Lady pain

 

 

dearest readers,

 

Look at this, I forgot to share, lady pain cover 2.
A dark cover but the first was printed a tad dark as it was white. Supposedly.
I hope you likes, oui?

Still writing…

yours,

RS

The sin

Dearest,

I was busy writing when someone sent this to me via email. I must say this is exactly what’s happening in a lot of us, I swear. This is me on a daily, fine every month.
Pain is pain et stupidity is mére doltishness.
I am a writer et that’s all I got

 

Hats of to you Yevskey,

Rianna Kate Shaikh

Ps. Merci

Yours never 12th ever

 

    Dearest,

I blush when I write this, as I swear this has to be a book, but I shall hope that the one that wrote this in my personal Letter shall not be flattered.

We live bûT forever once to feel, to live, to loose, to acquire the greatest of wealth so we could feel accomplished. Marry the best man possible or wife, we live to stutter along the fobbled paths to become rich in all things but mére simplicity.

My question is

Are you happy, et are you happy stripped of everything?
Are you happy with who you are, as you are, without the things that make you look better, the Bentley, the house on the hills, the maids, the chef, the house in that hamptons, or in Montauk, honestly i preferNewport. Like jackie.

I ask this because in my next book I look at Sophie B et I could sit in my tearoom, on the floor for hours drowning in her pain. As I feel her so deeply that I think, je pense, et as much as we can accomplish in this life, as much my darlings, we stand forth as nothing, absolutely nothing without 

the hands of love. The very hands that shall fill you to the brim with her happy et then destroys you in its whim. 
So it’s bloody hell, to write a love story.
I think the two of them, Zur et Sophie they have capsulated  me in their hands et now I play writer in their world torn, noble et terribly broken.I would prefer a story much more simplistic, but after this one is done I would tell you, oui I believe in love, et oui, I believe in soulmates.

“Hence, their love is breath to my existence.”

But I also believe that reality is important, it’s hard to tell when you get lost by living a life loving a woman so much that you just want to throw away all of your nobility to be by her side. God imagine that?

This love thing is very unfamiliar, that’s why it’s a book, non? But yah I am writing this story thinking  of yours never 12th ever, wondering what it meant. Well my darlings I am busy writing but I am so slow I vow to applaud all the best novelists out there, i fear I dont read but if you made it in this life selling novels, I think it’s safe to say you are a winner.

Merci to you all for being such great company.

 

yours never 12th ever,

RS

Ps. I swear it’s my next book title after this one

September, lady pain

DeaRy you,

Introducing lady pain. She deserves a standing ovation for she hath been rejected, insulted, betrayed, on repeat YêT we treat her so poorly.

Hence a book for the only lady I ever hath considered a lady, my dearest friend,

Lady pain.
A book of letters, pages of mére pain.

Obviously some of us are happy, some of us are probably on our honeymoon, god save you because reality is so much different, some of us are plain content in our greatest discontent. It matters not for pain is inevitable.

I decided to write this book in hopes that I too would pay high regards to the lady of my Many hours. Though we are most privileged in life, to live to breath to be, we are never without

letters of pain.

For the broken hearted et the fully loved. Et to the most fooled ones that believe their love can save the most foolish of existence, I Commend your bravery.

Et merci also to my photographer, I am all lady in this beautiful portrait. Sadly I don’t look like that daily,

I am too busy being lost in words

Well I hope this inspires you to be happy. Obviously that’s never a book I shall write.

I am most tired but I must work, for someday I shall make a literary agent very wealthy

 

yours never 12th ever,

RS

ps. I am cannot tell you what that  means, but someone wrote  me a letter when I was very young et that was quite peculiar to me then

It’s simple non?

 

             Dearest you,

This is month nine. Obviously for everyone in the world, oui? But it’s the 9th Month in book prints for moi.

I am at the au courant feeling it all over my whims et fancy, you guys this has been work,

to say the least thank heavens I wrote books to print, because my creativity is becoming very grim.

I think that’s why writers produce one book per year, or perhaps every 2 years, it’s a great constant flow.  Until it’s done. Then you are back to square 1. But luckily I need no inspiration, I need characters.
Story, feeling, pain, whatever gets the words jumping onto my screen

hence, are you ready for it…. Next book, lady pain.

This is pages of mére shiny agony. Written to seem to be letters from

broken hearts.

I can’t elaborate, this is a late print for September. Then I am working on my biggest project which honestly probably feels like all my 9 books in one. I am not a born natural novelists, sorry to say. It’s just a long, overly emotional process et by the end of the day I need a masseuse et bars of dark chocolate, it’s obviously not enviable.

Well wish me luck, I have got things to do et i actually need to leave my home, I silently scream in agony,

 

“WHY world, why ….”

yours,

RS

The better days

              Dearest you,

Some days nothing happens, other days,

Too much happens.
Then there are days when I sit aback from things et I wait, I wait for the skip of day to catch up and I sit out there et watch and I listen.

To the sounds of life, how it happens. How it tears you in its revered moments and somehow you find it in you to go in et on and watch lady time skip, hop on by. But she’s cruelle, she never ever stops time, even when you fall to your knees, panting for peace et pleading for more time,
to do whatever you may. Time to truly escape the whims of your destiny. Fog it is, they say lady destiny defiles time.
I bet she’s trouble inside out, but I sit et I speak aloud. I do write bit by pages, I think, je pense…

What if life were different. What if people were kind, what if you could do one thing in this broad world, one wish, one hope, one skip.

If you could trick time, what part, what would you skip the hands of time?

I shall want to bring back

love.

Why I’d ask her whatever so did she do to Romeo et Juliet. And however so did she deal with the man of the longest most remembered hour, of all our existence,

how did she deal with Sir

Shakespeare.
For I know that I may not be him, but I often think of love as a river bank,
she gives whatever the wind blows to her shores, as it stands, as it comes. For lady love is a rare kind, one that lives here no more. 

I should be not writing, but some things are evident, we are who we are non ou oui?

I shan’t decipher no more.

bonsoir,

RS

Your characters 101

   Dearest,

Oh where do I ever begin?
firstly hallo world, I have been on a mini runaway kind of vacation. I am lost in my desires to do nothing. I think my darling husband has spoilt me. I swear I think I have made it, I no longer need to write books

Honest. It’s a serious thing here. I should be playing polo et driving martins. Living in the English country on weekends. Like Monet. Obviously he never played polo, but  i am sure he got scolded for the things he painted,

For Sure. But  That was his purity covered in mere scandal. Okay moving on, I’m beginning to think I should be writing other things. 

So I haven’t written anything in two weeks, which isn’t normal when you are me. I have work staring at me et I stare the other way. I cannot comprehend my deliberations of great delinquency.

So I will jot a few notes to you instead, ready?

I started Wall Street no3 years ago, et I vow when the main character died I felt in full blown depression. No I think he reminded me of the greatest loss my heart had felt. I couldn’t write anymore. But here, Mr Bentley, bevy of bodyguards, the Arab polo playboy.

Go on fall of your charts, he’s the damn man.

The man that caught my all attention on paper, the one character that I shall be known for.

Zur.
The elitism that every woman’s imagination so craves.

I swear to you, there is nothing better than him on papier. Infact a lot of my female readers swoon over him. Hence, He’s notoriously in love with Sophie B, but like any bloddy tale,

I am definitely going to have to change my last name, shush don’t tell my husband, I think if he read book 1,2, he’ll remove all of them from the shelves, I kid not. It’s so darn inappropriate but it’s so necessary. For what, I think it’s all for me. My philosophy is quite tangled,

love is an absolute err to sanity.
So I actually think that the secret that I am delving in, is going to be so ruthless et delicious. Et it feeds the very core of what women desire. Et one last thing, ready?
I think I shall get away with my 3rd book. Ha, that one, I will be bold et I vow to own the madness. Oui? well I’m off to bed, so wish me bonne chance?

 

Mr Wall Street is back in business, with Sophie B.

yah it’s like that,

RS

Tea et nothing to want

Dearest,Bravery to think?
to feel to live to exist to not want more than yours.Doltish of I. I sit days staring at the clouds of not desiring to do a bloddy thing. With work. With my darling roo it’s everything.
I Have become a human that needs no frilly  hurrah.  I exist to be. To simply observe,to feel life’s chosen observations. To not care what the moments bring but belief in me let’s me understand that the purpose here is to sit et be.
Now you can dimly close your screen et act as if I don’t exist, till my next production.To tea heckins with it all.
Most politely et with great solidarity,RS

ps, merci pour le chocolat ladurée paris!

For the love of peace ✌️

 

Dearest you,

Oh the joie of not knowing what’s going on the world. A feeling of darkened drapery covering the light of day et the mundane hop and routine of simply staying as you are.

The world no longer concerns me. I sit alone et pretend the light of day remains, et night is as quiet as a passerby oui?

I am on a break but I shall keep in mind that God knows best. You must trust it. Not the little voice of panic within, release et let it go…

For the love of peace, dearest you.

For the simplicity of peace. A wonder really. Et scary, because no amounts of gold et rubies can give you such.

bonsoir.

RS

What you see isn’t what you get.

I

           Dearest women,

 

I think you understand better than men. I think it is so, we are built to love, hate, be, mother, succeed much more different than men.

As a woman I struggle with a lot of things, my face image not so much, because you can loose ten pounds, you can gain ten pounds, you can make up, break up, feign up et your face is you.

unusual you.

I am scared of Botox, but I am also aware of what it does to you.

My then dearest friend at some point of my earlier life, a skin esthetician worked for  a plastic surgeon, et i went to his office to get a facial. Hydra facial my mini secret, it literally changes the complexity of aging, no lie.
Hence, as I left the room I stood in the hallways looking at his list, face fillers, lip injections, breast augmentation, liposuction, gee that wasn’t it, I saw a package deal.

Holy Moses, I burst out in laughter, thank you to plastic surgeons for making women feel so very insignificant et un beautiful.

Brace yourself,

Bravo to you, but have you seen that no one recognizes you, even you?

I know I should be siping tea, walking on treadmill  for a hour, et swimming for 1 hour, rather than talk about our desperate self worths.
I am in my early 40’s I get a lot of questions on my youth, I have no secret, except stress, meditating, less exposure to sun et here’s the stunt, raw diet mostly.

I am overworked in my daily life, maybe thats possibly why I look like this, hey it’s the chapeau

But then there are days, when I have prof portraits to take et I look at 100 of them, et I am soo Over it.  I am so over the top with myself it’s actually unhealthy.

So, i wanted to share such with all of Womanhood,  that ever so delicately think that  being a petite size 0 is king et a face without age is Queen.

That’s pure merde. We live to age darlings, even Madonna knows this but nevertheless, her face is out of the world at au courant.

   Oops, I said it. 

But your logic on beauty today, It’s quite not very true. Unfortunately beauty is so within that nearly 95 percent of us, will not find our true beauty. It’s not Botox, or lips like a bloddy fish or the 24 inch waist, darlings come closer,

they lied, it’s inside of you. Voila, please that Christopher Columbus ain’t got a thing on me.
I have just discovered moi. Go on lush yourselves in laughter

But hey Valentino et Prada may help, a lot, a whole lot, a whoooollle lot, trust me,  but after a very short while, you are back to insufficient

That’s coming from a 4o something year old. With a million hats, great threads, everything anyone would want, kind of lady,

“C’est moi. Merci beaucoup darling husband, you are the man.”

Let’s focus darlings, it’s very important to
work within et hence towards the out. And stop trying to look like anyone, look like you, love yourself, they say, believe in you. They say.

they, they have a lot of time non?All of your Physical imperfections, they are yours not Dr Hyde in Manhasset.

Et oui, I am still over the top at my portraits et my lack of, “wow dam girl you are A snack!”

I laugh, milly called me a snack. I didn’t know what brand, but then she explained it, “mother it means,

you are fine, as heck.”

But a snack, I am literally lost in why we pay so much to educate our children et their English today is so lol, fomo, am et the rest. My favorite lately is, bruh. Please don’t laugh, i even have my husband saying, bruh.
Welcome to 2021 bruh. So when you look in the mirror today, repeat after me,

“Damn I look like, like a snack.”

Hopefully  gluten free.

I swear motherhood is a different sort of take, et I am a very uptight lady,  et 1920’s according to my Milly, but I sort of deep down like the different her

J’adore you M.

Dearest  you, she’ll be so mad et me, et one more funny before I …  the other day I went on to college campus et there was a sign on someone’s door it said,

nugs not drugs.
My husband wants me to knock on their door et drop off nuggets. I hope that’s chicken nuggets

oui?

I cannot world. It seems like I missed that part of my life, the one where you were fun everyday et immature et the part where anyone did nugs!!

Dear Jesus et Mary. Save us.

I hope I didn’t degrade my perfect score as Rianna S, I think you ought to know, I am also human. But I shall vow et I herby declare,

I am not a snack y’all

 

I bid you adieu,

RS

Ps, the birds are still alive et bloddy nosiest  as heck. They hate me
I am abouts to play right next to their humble abode, Luciano Pavarotti. Loudly.  Haha, yup that’s what’s going on.

It’s being called Bird mannerisms class

 

                 for free!