@Rendani666 I was selling a Macbook, never thought I'd be a victim of a scam until that day. It was a Christmas eve and he ruined my Christmas. Will put a screenshot below of my last message with him😅
And to all those who say that I am not Zimbabwean because of the colour of my skin, may you find healing for the hate in your hearts. I don't hate you back.
And I challenge you to a dance off!!!🕺😂 Name the time and place. @AlickMacheso please provide the music.🎶🇿🇼🖤🤎💛💚
The difference is on the quality of the oils, expensive fragrances use natural oil extracts, cheaper fragrances on the other hand use synthetic oils. The difference is like mince meat and soya chunks.
Nhy hama dzangu ma perfumes ayo anenge ari ma litres mangani plus zvinobatsireyi kushandisa iwaya than INUKA vision for Man ye $10 or AuthorFord ye $12 please help me understand
@Beatonm5 Sounds good on paper, but the reality is high voltage power lines can create electromagnetic interferences (EMI) which can drastically affect Data transmission speeds.
David sits in his car. The engine is off, but he hasn't moved for ten minutes.
He is parked in the driveway of the house he pays for, staring at the front door. Inside, the lights are warm. He can see the silhouette of his wife, Sarah, moving in the kitchen. He can see his daughter watching TV. It looks like a perfect life.
But David isn't soaking it in. He is hyperventilating.
He grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. He is taking these ten minutes to put the "mask" back on.
At work today, he lost a major client. The company is downsizing. He might not have a job in three months. The panic is a physical weight on his chest, crushing his lungs. He wants to walk inside, fall into Sarah’s arms, and say, "I’m scared. I don’t know if I can keep holding this up. I need you to tell me it’s going to be okay."
But he doesn't.
He remembers three years ago. His mother died. He broke down in front of Sarah. He cried. Really cried. He saw the look in her eyes shift. From comfort to fear.
The "Rock" had crumbled, and she didn't know how to look at him anymore. The attraction faded for months.
He learned his lesson: He is allowed to be sad, but he is not allowed to be helpless.
So, in the darkness of the driveway, David swallows the panic. He fixes his tie. He checks his reflection in the rearview mirror and practices the smile. The "I'm fine" smile.
He opens the car door and walks inside.
"Hey, honey! You're late," Sarah says, not looking up from her phone. "Did you remember to transfer the tuition fees? The school sent a reminder."
She didn't bother to ask how he is.
"Yeah, I did it," David says, kissing her cheek. She accepts the kiss, but she doesn't lean into it. That moment, he felt like he is just part of the furniture. A utility provider that keeps the lights on.
Later that night, in bed, David reaches out. He runs his hand down her arm, starving for a touch that isn't transactional. He just wants to feel desired. He wants to know he matters.
Sarah sighs. A heavy, annoyed sigh. "David, I'm exhausted. The kids were a nightmare today. Can we just sleep?"
He pulls his hand back immediately, humiliated. The "Beggar Dynamic" kicks in. He feels gross for even asking. He turns his back to her, staring at the wall.
Lying there, in the house he built, next to the woman he loves, David realizes the terrifying truth:
If he died tomorrow, they would miss him.
But if he went broke tomorrow, hmm...
He realizes he isn't loved unconditionally like his daughter or the dog. He is on a performance contract. As long as the payments clear, he is allowed to stay.
He closes his eyes. The panic returns. But he stays silent.
Because the only safe space he has left is inside his own head.