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Blackmail, blackmail is a crime, designed to rob me of what is mine, blackmail, blackmail is a crime, designed to steal my hard earn dollar. I missed my stop and landed in Jamaica, it was neither my intention nor my will power, but I found myself here even though I had nothing to share. Jamaicans in America, England and Canada, heard that Hollywood was in Jamaica, so they came by the plane load, they came by the ship load, just to see a mad woman on the corner. They weren’t sure if I was a man or a woman because my head was covered and I looked like a little man. I listened to them called me him, and some call Mr. even the church people got it wrong, and so the verbal abuse went on and on and I started to wonder if it was really Hollywood’s plan. From the street to the home and everywhere I am roam, I was the only talk of Linstead town. Abuse inside, abuse outside I would have surely died if God was not on my side.

 Hollywood in Jamaica? What a deceitful surprise? Please Mr. Waiter give me a glass of cold water. Where is the script and where are the cameras? The street was packed with actors, but there was no director or inbuilt stage, the setting was perhaps the natural environment and hidden cameras. People waited patiently to see the stunt scenes, and the new fly mind machines. But none of that happened. All I see was frequent hearse going up and down the street, and several funeral processions and marching bands. Hollywood court created havoc here and many people began to fear.

Daily figures crowded the streets and pompous music blasting about the place. People parade up and down the street, wearing fancy clothes, with matching hairstyle, and expensive shoes to color their feet. I just could not understand what was going on so I hang around to unravel the master plan. But the next thing I heard that I was the star of the script less show “What show I asked?” I waited for an answer, but nobody knew what the excitement was about. Neither the director nor the producers approached me, but deep down I felt as if somebody was using me.

 Many young children were dressed up cutely and were made to believe that they were Hollywood prince and princess. People came from near, and far to be part of the Hollywood deceptive charm. They heard where I was hanging out, and they came by me started to shout. 


I sat on the steps daily and watched them going to the only KFC in town. They were using me indirectly and inappropriately to boost their business and make money. The traffic kept pouring in and the dollars were rolling in , and Hollywood mystery was chiming in. The harassment increased and my spirit was disturbed. People came directly to stare at me, they were dressed up in all types of colors and they made all types of silly comments about me. But when the movie star scenario wore out they look for another cake to bake in the town, and found something else to mock me about.
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