manic mall moments-Psycho Killer - Talking Heads

(To Donovan)****

I am a goddess in my fifties, I have learnt some of life’s hard lessons,

 ‘I've stood in a riot, facing  angry, drunk people spewing their hate over me
 I have given birth, I spent 19 half hours in labour with my first child and it was hell.

  I have survived menopause and all its ugly manifestations,

 I have travelled fearlessly on my own and cleaned more vomit and dirty nappies that I care to remember.

 I am a strong woman who will stop at an accident and help, no matter how much the blood and the carnage….I flinch not!

 but yet……I  can’t walk into a Mall without breaking into a cold sweat.  It envelopes me like a wet blanket, making it difficult to breathe. A numbling sense of dread and foreboding come over me and I immediately lose 10% of my sight.....things go blurry...

First there is the whole looking for parking gedoente……the sound making weird echoes in the Undercover Parking  lot… scenes from cop movies flashing past….the girl always gets killed in the parking lot where  a psychopath waits  behind a concrete pillar, clutching  the weapons he brought to inflict effective damage...

Or, just as you turn the key, the car explodes because you are somehow a threat to an insane Drug and Prostitution Cartel.
 The same insane Cartel who stole your identity off the net and have ordered drugs and executions, for which you will be held accountable, but unlike the movies where the gorgeous girl immediately illicits sympathy from a highly effective Police force,  I am somewhat  of a challenge and not glamorous enough apparently, to warrant the attention of Denzel Washington.

  Nooooo, the likes of me must be satisfied with an unfocussed car guard, jabbering away and totally missing the point.

I  always fear that  I will lose my car, and this has indeed happened before…..but we were warned not to use the remote, as this apparently tell the thugs that are hiding in the shadows, where exactly your car is.

They will then rob you (after stabbing you repeatedly with a screwdriver). I don’t like being screwed
without my permission.

My entrance into the gaping mouth of the Mall Monster is not smooth, as I can’t walk on those slippery floors……I am thus forced  to walk very slowly through this hell.

The sound and sight of children whining, screaming, music from shops competing, people josting around each other pushing trolleys.......... so that you are now aurally as well as visually assaulted…
…..smells of concoctions and brews that are being prepared, clash with each other…

The glazed look that some people get as they wonder around, clutching ice creams and eating biltong, as they stare longingly through the shop windows at stuff  they can’t afford and that they most likely don’t  need.

The overpriced coffee…….the endless sales and promotions….

The humiliation of being told by an inhumanely thin and petite girl that the shop doesn’t have such big

sizes…..(Are you really proud of being a size nought?) I don’t say it, she is actually quite pretty...

Some over-eager foetus accosted me the other day, telling me exactly how badly I looked, and how much sun damage my skin has suffered, and that I should stand still (in the middle of the Mall), so that he can analyse me. I think the poor thing is still trying to expell  the image of me glaring at him, from his hopefully troubled sleep.

  How dare you!!

I tried to storm  off in a huff, but I had to execute a walk-skate move to propel myself forward, as the floor was not designed for humans, it was originally a skating rink for penguins apparantly.

At some stage of the game I habitually lose all sense of direction and purpose. Shop assistants  follow me with my goods as I promptly forget everything I bought on the counter.

I usually manage to find an exit, and wrap myself around the nearest pole to smoke like a dragon. This cause some shoppers to look at me with disgust and pity. ‘Old, mad woman sucking on sigarette eeeuw’

Looking for a bathroom inevitably mean escalators and I will land up between a funky person and a woman with a pram, said pram stuck with wailing toddler inside. Who can blame?

Nooooo!! Do NOT spray your skanky perfume on me!

No I will not worship at the altar of Consumerism and Madness that is the Mall. This is the freedom of age.
If I don’t like it I won’t do it. There must be some perks to getting older, honestly.

Finding my car again is a feat in itself, and the guard gives me a long-suffering look.  His eyes are saying:  'Another spoilt, pampered woman who has a meltdown over the colour of her nailpolish'

I dont have the mental energy to do anything but smile....I'm out of here!!!

All is not lost and I discovered a Shopping Centre, it is flat and friendly, there are actually two floors but I ignore the bottom floor….

Shopping with my daughter means that we have to go to the Make- up shop,as a matter of principle.

  And there I found her……the Manageress of the shop……..A veritable vision of pink,  engulfed in a cloud of some intense floral scent ……. Her elaborate, frosted curls were tortured into submission with a variety of pins and clips, all very pink and decidedly girlie. I must add that she was in her mid-seventies.

This candyfloss- goddess with the stiff quaff, was bedecked in pink, in your face pink…

Her eyes looked as if she allowed her talented little grand daughter  to colour it in, lines of colour, and Petal Pink lipstick adorned the smiling mouth.

Her array of pink bangles jangled away as she beamed at my choice of eye shadow…….

The softer pink twinset and pink cotton pants flowed down to the kitten heels, that had her pink tootsies peeping out.

I revelled in her gutspa and zany pezazz

She was at one with herself and enjoyed herself thoroughly.

To add to the pleasure of this encounter, we discovered a Coffee Shop with an outside stoep.

 I immediately made a beeline for it, and as I was sipping the filter brew, I heard the distinct lilt of a West African accent. My heart melted and I must confess that I flirted with the most charming and focussed car guard ever!

These two incidents pleased me thoroughly, so I shall return to my peaceful centre....and isn't that a good place to be?

Spread the love and be blessed and fabulous**

What was her name?

We have just celebrated Easter, and for many people it was a  wonderful time of being off work, children went on Easter Egg Hunts and the Easter Bunny is seen all over the show. If you were fortunate enough to bribe or emotionally blackmail someone into buying you a Lindt Bunny .....great.  I was not successful in my attempts, but gorged on the old standby, the marshmallow egg. YUM!!

I also, for the first time,  focussed on where the Easter Celebration originated from, and it was most interesting.
Here is what I learnt: 'Easter was originally the Celebration of Ishtar, the Assyrian and Babelonian Godess of Fertility and sex.After Constantine decided to Christianise the Empire,it was changed to represent Jesus.'

For Christians this Celebration is pivotal to their Faith and some will not indulge in the frivolity of Easter Eggs and silly bunnies. They feel affronted by this' debasing' of the Crucifixion and subsequent rising from the dead by Christ. As a believer, I do respect their opinion, but I honestly just love the chocolate!

Whatever your belief or opinion, here is what I encountered over Easter time.

The morning after Good Friday,  I was awake very early. It was a beautiful and breezy-fresh morning and not quite light yet. All was well and I enjoyed the serenity and quiet of God's New Day.....until I read a small article on a blogsite. The article would probably go largely unnoticed in South Africa, as we are subjected to this kind of depravity on a regular basis. An image popped up......

This was not a South African girl. She was at most 19 years old, naked and on her back with her legs splayed ,...... a piece of wood protruding from her vagina.

She was dead, and I pray and believe that she went to her Heaven.
 Her name was not provided.  Were they trying to preserve her privacy? Really?

If you take into account the history of the celebration of Easter, this girl becomes (in my mind) a parody of the Godess of Fertility. Broken, degraded, tortured......

She was someone's child, maybe someone's sibling, she had a name and she had dreams and aspirations.

 She had a story...........

 I was overcome by the spiritual implication of the desecration of something so beautiful and alive as this young woman.
 The deed, the motivation behind it.......the Evil that came out to play, because the Evil was welcomed in by someone..  Did the perpetrator wish to make a statement? Why? Where is this person now? Does the scene replay in the obviously disturbed mind of the killer?
Where is this child's mother? Was this girl someone's mother?

 I may never know the truth behind it, but I hold on to my Truth that Christ died for her, a brutalised human being, and He died for the killer as well.

Spread the Love and Keep your Lights on****
The Lord's Prayer played by Marcus Miller on Clarinet is like a balm to the Soul**

Keep your lights on -Carlos Santana with Everlast

                          To my soul brother who loves God and loses himself in the Nightsky

 Many years ago I read an amazing book. It is called 'Tramp for the Lord' by Corrie ten Boom. She is a
Dutch lady, who with her elder sister and Father were incarcerated in Auscwitz for harbouring Jews. She survived this hell, but her sister and father died there. She subsequently became a 'tramp for the Lord' and preached her message of forgiveness all over the world. All her belongings were in a suitcase and she lived in Faith and Trust in God.
One day, after bringing her message of forgiveness, she was confronted by her tormentor. The man that tortured her 82 year old Father to death.  He stood in front of her, tears streaming down his face, begging her forgiveness.  And right there, she realized that she couldn't do this. The irony of her preaching forgiveness and her own unwillingness to do so, did not escape her, and she asked the Spirit of God to help her. Her arm eventually lifted (not from her own volition) and she greeted him and waited for God to speak the words that she couldn't utter. God helped this faithfull child of his, and the words came......and the last of the poison left her.......and she was free..she was walking in the Light..

Another of her experiences stayed with me as well. She told of how the women were lined up every morning, early...and made to stand on the parade ground in silence for hours... Women died and fell down and was taken away to be dumped like garbage. They were officially in Hitler's Hell and there seemed no way out. She prayed fervently through out this early morning humiliaton and begged God for Relief.

 One morning, very early,as the group of miserable prisoners stood in silence, they heard the beautiful song of  a Nightingale. The bird swooped and sang in the blue sky and one by one the women looked up....up ....up.....away from the misery and deprivation.....away from the hate and the pain........their souls soared with God's creature and they felt His Upliftment and Care.  This Nightingale came back every morning to entertain and sustain the souls of the women  .Their collective Spirit was lifted and every morning from then on was spent in deep meditation and wonderment.   It became a Holy time of the day and God made His presence clear to all.   Death became a Graduation.   They knew where they would go to and they knew that what was happening to them was temporary.

We don't all land up in a concentration camp, but we sure go through our own hell at times. Living in South Africa is a stressfull experience to many. (Come to think of it, living in this world is very stressfull ) Our crime statistics are incredibly high, we have become the rape capital of the world..The Spirit of this nation is troubled by violence and phobias.

And of course not everyone in South Africa wants to kill and rape, but it would sure help if we could recognize the Spirit of people that cross our paths. Again I pray for the Spirit of discernment.

This leads me to the title of this blog. The deep,haunting- husky sound of Everlast combined with the wailing guitar of Carlos Santana playing 'Keep your lights on' Yes!       (Somewhere here I can hear children singing 'This little Light of Mine)'
Would it not be awesome if we all kept our Lights on?

 Show who we are so we don't waste time having to rifle through our psyche to unearth that which are kept in the dark....all the lies and the deceit out there.... taking ownership... 'In order to shift from Duality to Unity, all that has been held in the dark must be brought to the Light'         (@Nilini)

'Lovers keep your Light on, Killers keep your Light on, Children you better keep your Lights on'
'There's an Angel with his hand on my head, saying I have nothing to fear....Let your Light shine into my home...'

I share a love of the Milkyway and the Northern Lights with my soul brother. I have looked at so much footage of Aurora Dancing in the Night Sky, sometimes with a stray meteor in the picture and a spectacular Milky Way for good meassure, altogether a Cellestial Light Display that makes me thank God for Keeping His Lights on for us. We need to know that He is there if we have difficulty seeing him on earth. He makes me look up.....up.....up....away from  sadness and cruelty and makes me want to join in the dance of the Northern Lights lighting up in the sky.....contemplating the fleeting time spent on earth and Eternity ahead.

It is because our time here is fleeting that I want to preserve and live each moment, I want to see people loving each other, caring for each other and strengthening each other on  our individual  journeys.

Could we not have 'An interplanetary Party? (great song by the way, Mr Santana) Yes, a party where all 'God's children will live in Peace with no boundaries'


Doing the Celestial Shake.......and Keeping the Lights on**
Spread the love ooo

Traffic Department Blues

A long line of people...... Their eyes start to glaze over after an hour, no-one knows exactly what's going on as no-one explains or communicates with the masses..... I watch a young girl walking at a snail's pace, pulling a cleaning cart behind her. Her eyes are much to tired for her age, the place is sucking the energy out of everyone......

I am flanked by two men and they both suffer from severe halitosis which is making my seven hour wait an absolute hell......

Inside the place a group of weary people sit and wait to have their eyes tested in order to obtain a renewal on their driver's license...... there are 6 booths, yet only one person is working.....very slowly...

Another consultant slowly drags herself into the booth, while slurping her coffee and eating her breakfast, which causes a further delay as she sips and chews continuously...... she manages to test her poor victim's eyes and then gets up, yawns, and drags herself out of the room, she disappears for the rest of the day........

I have to use the bathroom... I locate it eventually, a miserable hovel of a building, no locks on the door, filthy inside, and walk into a huge man who tells me that men and women share the toilet......I don't want to die at the Traffic Department in a nightmare bathroom.....


I get back to my seat, and the next thing a belligerent character starts shouting at me for pushing in........ I inform him that I've been there since before 7, but he continuous to yell at me, (at this point I am suffering severe withdrawal symptoms as I stopped smoking...) I eventually lose my temper and shout back at him.
Its horrible........

An old man lights up and I have to forcibly restrain myself from grabbing the cigarette out of his hands....... I contemplate whether I should buy a loose cigarette, and have to immediately visualize myself as a non-smoker........breathe.......water.......breathe.....

My license expired seven months ago.....I didn't realize this fact......I am praying hard that whoever helps me does not insist that I re-do my Learners and Drivers.....at my age.....ridiculous........

I want to complain about the lack of service, but I have to eat humble pie.......I can't afford a fine....

My ID photo is horrendous, I look like a hag, no soft lighting here.........I pay an exorbitant fee to the entrepreneur outside taking ID photos, for the privilege of having this image from hell glued onto my new license.....

Wafts of smoke are driving me crazy......It smells horrible ......water.....breathe........

I am eventually seated inside, as halitosis boy comes to call me......

I land up with a really pleasant lady who tests my eyes, and she tells me I passed the test.

She wants to see my old drivers license and my stomach flips over....
Thank you Lord, she barely glances at it, which means  I will pay the normal price for the document.

A group of people enter the eye-testing room, and the big man that oversees it all tells them to turn around and face the door......'You must leave! Go back to your seats outside, no-one gave you permission to enter here'
The tired group grumble and turn around in shame, they leave and some people start to snigger....
An obese man devours a few packets of chips, he gobbles it up and there is chip shrapnel everywhere..

Breathe........water..........

There are no windows .....a faulty florescent light flickers insanely, which causes my eyes to start burning.
I feel very sorry for anyone who suffers from epilepsy..

I start to compose a blues song in my head, I want to wail in despair. It won't help.

I stand in another que for an hour, waiting to pay.

Hell is indeed alive and well on Earth.

Spreading the Love more than ever and so very grateful that I don't work there.

See you beyond the flip side

I have said this before, but I really do believe in the inherent goodness of people. I try very hard, and these last few months have been 'challenging' or no,......... should I just say it has been a horror/soapie in which I featured,  strangely detached, which added to the surrealism and weirdness of it all.

A friend of mine ended off a conversation by saying: 'See you on the flip side' and that phrase has stuck in my mind, as phrases often do.... The first thing I thought about, was the memory of myself, many,many moons ago, clutching a precious ten cent coin, on my way  to buy a seven single. I always listened to the flip side first, I guess I was just badass that way!
Soo, I've been pondering the 'flip side' and I realised how important it is, that there is always the 'other'side of any story, event, tragedy......
 A friend of mine and fellow godess, married the love of her life the other day. They found each other against all odds, they struggled through the swamp of mistrust, fear, anxiety, and paranoia that haunt us all at times, and they found and built a place of trust and respect. It was a beautiful occasion, and it brought home to me just how powerful Truth and Love can be.

The flip side of this story, is the old man I saw, heartbroken, as well as financially ruined,. staring morosely into a glass of beer in a bar in Ghana, very far from France....

 With my friend this didn't happen.. This time LOVE was victorious and they did sail happily into the sunset together, which is as it should be, I feel!! (I know that the 'reality' of a happy ending can come across as naive, which is another thing I have an issue about.)

For a movie to be'realistic', it seems that the couple must split up, or at least be in therapy on a regular basis. Happy endings are seen as 'unrealistic' WHY??????

Do we have a fascination of the 'flip side'? Do we always have to hanker for the forbidden fruit? Must we indulge every fancy and whim to 'gain knowledge'? What kind of knowledge to we sit with at the end?
is it all worth it???

What does the word 'flip' mean??  So many random questions!!!!!

Yes, of course I immediately used the 'Dictionary' app on my black berry...( I still can't get over the fact that I can actually operate this gizmo- a late bloomer indeed.)

A ha! among other verb things, the slang use of flip is the most entertaining.  Here goes: ,' to react to something in an astonished, exited, or delighted manner:'  'she nearly flipped over her new man'

OR:   to become' insane,irrational, angry, or highly exited'   (as in 'flip out')
'an instance of flipping' is also cool.
In the 18th Century, it was the name of an exotic drink - as in 'May I have a Flip please? Yes, with ice, ta dear'  
As the word implies, there should be some activity, as in 'flip my lid' or 'I'm flipping pancakes for my family as befits a good mother.(I actually did, but they weren't suitably impressed, so I have to repeat it.)

You could even be 'flippant' and dare to go to the flip side without a body guard and spare change.
The truth of the matter is that I need, as my BF suggested, my own Province.


 'Beyond the Flip Side' is where I would like to live. I shall refer to my Province as 'dis here my contri'

I would like to live in a place where people do what they are supposed to do, among all other pressing life issues.
People must primarily be - and spread- Love and Truth. God is Love and Truth.  The alternative is the flip side, Hate and Lies. And that is Hell in the making right there.
 (Whatever your perception of hell might be.)
My idea of hell is a place where everyone live for themselves and no-one cares about anyone else anymore-my idea of hell is when people start treating each other as expendable goods, where you get upgraded or downgraded, depending on your smart user friendly abilities. (to be stuck in a Mall for all Eternity is another idea of hell, but that's another story......or in a bank with a never ending loop of infomercials......)
My idea of hell is a world where a brilliant musician gets beaten up by thugs because they have 'beef' with him. How dare he play so well?           OH GROW UP!!!!
 I realised that strong measures will have to be taken to ensure a peaceful stay in 'dis here my contri'
I suggest a gentle debriefing session before taking up residence.

In the words of Oriah Mountain Dreamer:


The Invitation

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living,
 I want to know what you ache for,
 and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing,
 it doesn't interest me how old you are,
 I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love,
 for your dream, for the adventure of being alive'

Spread the love always- be fabulous***

System exposed to risk

Have you ever listened to that consumate Queen of Country, Patsi Kleine singing 'Crazy'? It is the ultimate oh-help-me-I-knew-you-were-going-to-screw-me-over-but-I-still-love-you-song of all times.(or at least one of them)

'Crazy,I'm crazy for feeling so lonely, I'm crazy, crazy for feeling so blue, I knew, you'd love me as long as you wanted, then someday you'll leave me for somebody new,
Worry, why do I let myself worry, wondering what in the world I can do
Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you, I'm crazy for crying and crazy for trying and I'm crazy for loving you......... ' ( and so on and so on.)

Millions of words in various styles have been written about the subject of Love, from flowery sonnets to rapping, to novels, to amazing love songs, to Opera, to Heavy Metal, to Punk Rock, to Holy Books, to Motivational DIY instructions, to thousands of silly bumperstickers, to the giddiness of Valentine's Day...... the list is endless.....

Have you ever noticed the vast amount of cold remedies on shelves everywhere? The irritating advertisments of coughing and sniffing people smiling weakly at each other, while clutching their various coughmixtures and swallowing vile potions? (Remember the famous brats, Romeo and Juliet? Of course Juliet looked stunning while drinking the poison. I, on the other hand will look hideous and the paramedics will gossip.)

Much the same as the love question. The reason that there are so many remedies and material available is that no-one has ever been able to fathom a cure for either, not for the cold or for the ache of love All you know is that you have it, and you just have to ride it out, and in the case of love you hope that you will set sail into the sunset with your beloved,( and you will of course look devastating.) In the case of a cold, well, you hope that it will go away and not turn into something really nasty.

It's the something nasty  that bothers me, my mind has pondered this issue for a long time.
How many murders and suicides have been committed because of love? (Not for the cold, at least there you have some legal drugs to knock you out to help you sleep it off.)

'Love makes fools of all of us' (Shakespeare)  Oh indeed it does!!  My beloved Bob Marley said: 'The truth is that all people will hurt you, you just have to decide who is worth suffering for'

How many fights, arguments, cruel words, declarations of love, promises,e-mails, silly poems and presents, dates, longing, tears, time taken over the right outfit, the right present, the right smell aaahhh

So...... to the dictionary then...... LOVE- a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.

PROFOUND- originating in or penetrating to the depths of one's being ...........

PENETRATE-to affect or impress (the mind or feelings) deeply- to have a deep effect or impact on someone- to enter, reach, or pass through something, as by piercing- (latin - penitus- deep down)
How amazing is this and how very, very sad that this act of penetration of the soul has been reduced to a mindless act of quick release. I'm not devaluating the quick release at all, it has its place, but it's not all there is surely? Why don't we say: 'I lust you",  instead of wrapping it up in the camouflage of LOVE?

And then we wonder why it all goes so wrong.... when the murders, the abuse, the fights, the regrets, the bitterness take over and we are left with ....................the memory of a loveless release?

I read the following quote: 'People were made to be loved, things were made to be used, the reason for the chaos in this world today is because things are being loved and people are being used' ( Can't remember who said it, but I love it)

  Just think of all the internet scamming going on.... dating sites have become warzones, identities have been stolen, hearts have been broken, dreams shattered, lonely people looking for love and finding themselves involved in a sad scenario of humiliation and lies. ( Not all, some people have found love and partners of course, but for the most..............)

When is it LOVE and when is it OBSESSION?  (Stalkers.......................) - the domination of one's thoughts or feelings by a persistant idea, image, desire etc...... scary stuff ..........

'I have a crush on you'  (beautiful song by the wonderful Miss Ella)
CRUSH- to press or squeeze with a force that destroys or deforms
-to squeeze or pound into small fragments or particles......

'I LOVE YOU WITH ALL MY HEART'

Beautiful words, lovely sentiments, a promise of great joy or a a cheap ploy?

I love the following quote by Epictetus- Roman Philosopher-' FIRST LEARN THE MEANING OF WHAT YOU SAY AND THEN SPEAK'

Spread the love and not the lies..........................

DASH ME FROM YOUR HEART

One of the most heartfelt and beautiful and schmaltzy songs of all times must surely be 'Unchained Melody' by the wonderful Platters. I love this song so much - the smooth silky voices, the undiluted sentimentality of this declaration of love, unashamedly wanting and needing. 'Oh my love, my darling, I hunger for your touch.....'  Have you ever crooned with ' I neeeeed your love.......God speed your love to meeee'?

Of course I can't sing it without crying my eyes out, who has never felt that longing? Who has never wanted to say that to the person they love? (if they were blessed enough to find love) 

Anyway....rambling off I go, I went to Ghana for three weeks, yes, went to recharge the groove, and I spent three weeks there. I have come to think of West Africa, and in particular Kokrobite, as my spiritual home. 

As I was on a very tight budget, I paced myself, and was careful about spending unnecessarily. I did, however, allow myself the luxury of decent filter coffee every morning and I bought beads, lots of them, I happily sat making bracelets, and I bought cloth, beautiful cloth.

Whenever a purchase was made and there was the slightest hesitation from my side, as in fumbling in purse, trying to work out how much can be spent, I would hear the following: 'Just dash me from your heart' and I would inevitably feel a frisson of hesitation. Why was that? 

This is the delicious hassle my mind pondered, and I had all the time in the world to do so.

Eventually it came to me, because, as I took out the money, I would always wonder if the offering would be considered sufficient and would that offering reflect a generous spirit or a stingy one? Would it be enough? 

After all, it comes from the heart na! So, how big is my heart? This quandry resulted in me dashing away and paying much more than I should, as God forbid, I should be known as a bad dasher!

So if  there should be a dash-o-meter, how would one rate?
What does it really mean to 'dash from the heart?'

  

What does this WORD actually mean?  I looked it up and here goes: dash:'' spirited action - vigor in action or style,' (as in ' the dancer performed with spirit and dash), or to' give a tip or bribe' , or' to cut a dash -make a striking impression', or 'the dash of the waves could be heard from afar', or' strike with violence' -'the waves dashed against the rocks,' hmmm 'my hopes were dashed' It can also be used as an expletive, as in 'Dash! I forgot my ....whatever' or 'I must dash - go' or 'You look dashing!' hmm

What is clear to me is that there is power in the dash. This is not a word that describes a mediocre action.

As in ' The contestants made a mad dash for the prize"
'
So, when we dash from the heart, we need to dash well and strong. Dashing creates a strong impression and its a spirited action.
What would happen if we dashed someone with evil intent.?  It would create considerable damage surely?

The dasher might not be aware of the turmoil and hurt to the dashee but it would be there, hopes and dreams would be painfully dashed, and one can just imagine-fantasize- how karma would deal with the evil dasher.

'Dash me from your heart' or 'Give me from your heart' means I want what you have strongly, and I want what you give, to come from, and with LOVE

I love these lyrics from Fela Kuti:  Dem wan dash us human right
                                                    Human right na my property
                                                    You can't dash me my property.
This man knew how to dash from the heart***

I am inspired by the dash, and now more than ever, I intend to dash from my heart, I will look dashing as I do so, and I am ready to be well and truly dashed**

Dash away!!!
Spread the love strongly**