The Desire of every Reasonable Man:My friend Kamsy is my perfect definition of beautiful. Her hair does not glow like the

Saharan sun; her face is in lack of the pointed nose and efficacious nubile face we all crave for; her hips does not

clatter and natter when she walks, she is in-fact without the lush and sumptuous prism that is today used to express the

nature and realism of beauty...but for me, she is a desire; a cynosure of myriad cipher that can only be discerned by

those who understand the true meaning of 'beautiful'.
Kamsy is the most natural being i have come in contact with; not only does her attitude attest to this fact, her physical

outlook makes one wonder about the exceptional-ism of God's creative prowess. Around her face are nestled with carefully

dotted spot that contributes latently to the intrepid nature of kamsy's beauty. She does not fit her body into slack

flippant dress that exposes the co-joining in-between of her cleavage; neither does she paint her face with several

varieties of Frisco, yet she is the desire of all.
When she walks, the pace of her movement doesn't by any slightest means portray any ounce of low self esteem...a

narcissistic cynic who gets stabbed in the heart by her effortless ability to exhume self confidence through her movement

would easily concluded, " Oh my God, this girl is Fu**ing proud!" She is never concerned about the constructed negative

stories people filter about her; and even when she is confronted with these stories the serenity and chutzpah of her

reaction is one that baffles all: " My dear i didn't say anything like that, but if you are hurt by their lies i apologize

on their behalf." "The girl child is more vulnerable to vices of the world, which makes it more likely for them to fall

victim of concocted stories; either psychologically or physically...that is why i feel it is grossly unnecessary to try

to prove something i didn't do." Kamsy explained to me, when i asked her why she refused to react to a false story one of

her pairs was paddling around about her.
She does not wear Docci shoes and Versace gown; she does not wear posh designers perfume or exquisite brand, yet, her

simple fitted skirt and blouse commands great respect and wins her the admiration of all. When she speaks, the words that

leaves her vocal cavity are far too expensive and sensitive to be ignored. Kamsy, tries not to haggle into arguments, but,

when she does, it's a clear case of one who is compelled to correct a thriving a-normally. She knows when a situation has

been overstressed, and understands the need to curtail it before it escalates to an uncontrollable level. She never fails

to correct me when am wrong, when she does, she makes it impossible for me to repeat such mistake in future. She pampers

me, flatters me, and then batters me in a manner that remains ringing in my subconscious.
Kamsy, understands what friendship is, sometimes her reaction to the problems of friends makes it seem like she is the

principal benefactor of that problem. " Hello Sam, are you okay? it's been a while i heard from you." She would call to

ask whenever our friendship becomes too distant. Whenever i am in a conversation with Kamsy the urge and desire to express

my thought becomes apparently necessary. We could talk for five hours in a stretch and still have many topical issues

unvisited. My friend Kamsy is to me a meal i cannot do without; a friend that exist in my imagination and not my reality;

a friend i crave soo dyingly* for; a friend any well meaning individual hopes to have. In-fact, i do not have any friend

with the name Kamsy, but if ever a Kamsy with these description does exist, she is my heart most desire; the desire of

every man who understand what a true female friend should be.

Followin