a prophecy hidden in fiction #UGBlogWeek

Today started out pretty well, I completed all my tasks by midday. Including one task that I was dreading with all of me – let’s face it, some bugs are easier than others.

Despite this awesome start, little did I know that my life would come to a grinding halt after a crashing collusion with Paige’s. For the first time, two timelines have crossed and I’m seated here in the aftermath not even sure about where my head’s at.

I’ve always loved the mystery that surrounds itself in the stories that are born in my head. I knew Paige when I started typing, but I didn’t know what was going to happen to her… so as I wrote, the story unfolded. The twists and turns always happened at the point where I’m nervous about the story getting too long, also coupled with the fact that life sometimes poops like a chubby cute newborn.

Paige’s day one literally picked itself up and plopped itself into my existence. Sadly, I did not have the luxury of running to my Dee. No. I had to return to work and try to continue with my existence sans glitter, fairies and butterflies.

Because the chances of my Jared reading this are microscopic, I’ll regale you with the detail of this tale turned reality.

I’ve been smiling for no reason for the last 4 days, despite the insomnia I’ve suffered for the past 2 weeks. No, not the mind drifting, lets-soft-build-castles-in-the-air drifting. Nah bruh! More like lets-create-multiple-universes-with-different-timelines-and-warp-capabilities kind of drifting. When my mind wonders, it takes the brutal force of reality to being me crashing back. Thats the second time I have used the word crashing and it am just 200 words in.

Some universes are worth smiling over, a gaze focused passed the object in front of you, into a reality even your imagination wouldn’t mind but will not admit it. I wore blue today, for the sole reason that my mind was convinced that you liked blue. I wore those black shoes from the other day. Come to think of it, it might be the shoes. The last time I wore these shoes was also a set up for disappointment.

I was early. Ha! These days, I am hardly ever early but look at me walking in 10 minutes early. None of that, restaurant adjacent to another business. I am momentarily distracted by your scent because you smell soo good. You smile good too. Yes, insert the African blush all over this material. Conversation is easy. No forced talk or awkward silences. I’m bidding my time, I am waiting. There is a question coming. A smile on my face as I write this. The kind of question that leaves men weak and women giddy.

it was worse than website.

Paige should be happy she got website.

emotional-abuse

Split second recovery is something that is taught to you in grad school as your hours of hard work are shredded to pieces. Split second recovery is what makes you smile an emotionless smile as the memory of the moment is pulled into your head. Split second recovery is nowhere, as you stand and stare at your reflection in the bathroom mirror.

I stare at her, in the mirror, trying to scrutinise… what exactly is it about her that is not just not desirable but… sigh. I’m hugging my middle before my knees give way, making me slide into a squat. Like the one when you use in a pit latrine for better aim. You know the one…

I just need a minute. I need to process what just happened. I just need my pillow, thats all. No, it’s not a blankie, but it has more experience in these situation than the soothing cold tiles of this toilet. I’m just staring at the floor and letting the cold seep into my back.

I should probably talk to God at this point. It is probably a good idea for me to do that right about now. I should find my completion in him. I should find my centre in him. I should put my hope in him. I should… I should… I should… You know just because you say it does not make it easy.

Just because it’s running through my mind doesn’t mean I have the energy to get off this floor.

Today, should have ended different.

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***

This Dandelion tale has stolen a verse from my life.

Even Hollywood wouldn’t have been able to script this ish! Only life in it’s purest form! There is aways a possibility that life will attempt to screw you over but hope must remain. Dawn will return. 

The Dandelion series will return after this short break. In the mean time, find part One, Two and Three here.

 

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i swear it’s satan’s jajja #UGBlogWeek

What just happened?

Comprehension fleeing from my sense of reason’s ardent pursuit. I look up and a waiter is coming toward me with what looks like the bill.

Great! Just great! To add to all the commotion, the gudu did not have the courtesy to pay the bill for a meeting he called.

You must think I’m being petty and mean, after all I have never been pregnant. I have never had my water break. I have never walked into a restaurant looking for my baby daddy to make said water breakage announcement.

Yes, I’m allowing myself to get carried away, wouldn’t you? Aren’t I allowed this privilege? After all how many of you would interrupt a ‘friend’s‘ meeting to announce your broken water? All sensitive hormones aside, of course… and yes, at this point I’m doing a hard mental eye roll.

Cold air had hit her hand as he retracted his warmth from her. A sudden look of worry and horror awash on his face. That in itself was a telling sign. That was his child. He was going to be a father. I will not be a home wrecker.

A bitter chuckle escaped my lips as I picked my bag from under the table, home wrecker my foot. The guy wanted a website, last time the world checked, web development is not a contributing factor to home wreckage.

I place the money plus tip into the bill wallet pouch looking thingie and walk out. I’m making a mental note not to get caught in this drama again.

***

He has been calling every two days since 3 days after the meeting. May be it was a hard labour. Lisa, my sister had had one of those. She had been in labor for a week, till the doctors advised her to consider a cesarean birth.

All the more need to ignore these calls. She, the girl, needed him now more than ever. He has no business calling me with such frequency.

It’s been two weeks and I wish he would just stop. Almost as if on cue, my phone lights up, his caller id flashing clueless in kisementi. I turn off the volume and watch it ring until he gives up.

 

until two days from now, I mutter to myself.

I wonder what it is with the number two, why two days? He could choose to call every day, not that that would make a difference but I wonder why two days. A loud sigh escapes my lips, and Dee glances up from her desk.

Crap, mentally chiding myself for not having better control of my emotions. I smile at her then gaze outside the window. Dee knows. She knew about the ‘meeting’, we had oohed and ahhed and sighed at all the probabilities, but none of us had put Website in the realm of possibilities.

Has Jay called again? She asked with a genuine sympathetic look on her face.

Yes, I gave her a different name. No, it’s not what you think, I am not that insecure, that I would give my friend a fake name. No. It’s just that he is Jay, in my head anyway. My short form of Jared. The name that I would end up calling him, only now he will remain clueless in kisementi.

Yeah, he did. I answer while glancing at my phone.

Perhaps you should consider picking up next time. Just listen to what he has to say. She said delicately.

Dee was the proverbial fence-mender, always believing the best in people. That day two weeks ago, I’d barged into her house while gasping and sobbing so hard, she had feared the worst. Nope. Just it was another self inflicted broken heart. I seem to be getting good at collecting these.

Let’s go book shopping today, I say to her purposefully changing the subject.

She gives me a pointed look but I avert my eyes, my tears are closer than I like to admit. I am not yet ready to face or hear him.

I can’t. John has a friend in hospital, we are going to visit this evening. 

John is her boyfriend. They have been going steady for the last 3 months, sadly with my level of self involvement, I have never met him or inquired about him. I make a mental note to get more involved in her life once the Jay Jared matter is put to rest.

Okay. I respond. I’ll just book-window-shop for a little while to get my mind off this.

***

I’m standing by the elevators looking at the entrance of Aristoc. I’ve been standing looking at the entrance for the last 10 minutes. For obvious reasons, I’m failing to go in, a reaction which one half of me finds utterly childish. Almost as if I am stuck in a Disney movie.

I turn back and head back to the ground floor and there is another bookshop in this mall. While their books are expensive, they are a welcome distraction. Yes, I know there are people out there with more serious problems than mine but what gives you the right to sit there and judge me. How would you like to have a moment of crisis and have me tell you to suck it up and move on.

As I walk into New Day bookshop, I am reminded how the last time I was here, I was chased out because I was eating ice cream on a cone. The utter irony is that the place has a mini bakery-style-coffee shop in it.

I avoid the shop attendants, today I am in no mood for small talk. I find 3 Karen Kingsbury books and 1 old Frank Peretti. I made myself comfortable in one of the chairs and started the real book browsing. The two Kingsbury books were a little bit pricy, so I decide to do the Amazon-price comparison. Yes, Amazon plus a ridiculous bank exchange rate would be cheaper for two of the books. I wasn’t really planning on buying…

Paige?

I look up, slightly surprised and slightly guilty. Nothing like being caught amazon-ing a book in a bookstore.

Yes?

I’m Bosco. You don’t know me, but I’m Jared’s friend. He has been trying to reach you.

Wait what? His sentence took a moment to sink in. Jared’s friend. Comprehension and anger were doing a tag team thing, WWF was going down in my head. So the gudu is now sending his friends to stalk bookstores in Kampala? Glad, I didn’t enter Aristoc! He is probably seated up there waiting, in which case, serves him right!

Yeah. I’ve been a little busy with meetings and deadlines, I manage to say in a controlled voice.

Is he okay, I add, feigning concern.

No, he was involved in an horrific accident at the Mwanda-Mulago junction. He was with his …

Everything else he said faded into the background. Accident? The world was tilting precariously to the right, worry and guilt suddenly making my finger tips go cold and numb.

acc… accident… I stutter in a whisper.

***

This is part three in the dandelion series.

Dandelions or Satan’s Jajja as I used to call them in primary school are beautiful and almost have a certain ethereal quality. This, however, does not take away the reality that they are weeds, plain and simple.

If this is your third read, thank you for persisting on this story’s journey with me. As I wrote this, I wondered if Paige’s reactions were realistic – If you were in her shoes, would you have picked up the phone?

Part two can be found here

 

even weeds can be pretty #UGBlogWeek

You could have said that in an email, she said while glancing at her cup.

I could have, but I wanted to see you, is what I wanted to say. I really did, but that would not have been professional.

While in Aristoc, Bosco had insisted on me keeping it professional, going on and on about Paige’s status in the industry and about how she didn’t take crap from anyone. He was in the middle of the lecture when Paige had breezed in. From the stationaries stand, they quietly watched her hand her helmet to the guard and walk to the African Authors section.

Her blue jeans had me singing that Ginuwine song, they perfectly sculpted her lower body. She wore a plain tank top and a red and white checkered shirt unbuttoned on top of the jeans. The sleeves of her shirt were rolled up, revealing her arms. Her smooth arms.

I shifted my stance to get a better look from our concealed spot, and literally felt Bosco’s accusatory stare.

That is exactly what I am talking about, Jared!

Even though he spoke in an octave above a whisper, it was hard not to overlook the urgency in his voice. What did his friend think he was capable of doing?

It’s not like I was inviting her to a 3-day getaway on an island one minute south of the equator. It’s not like I had imagined exploring every single inch of her on said island. It’s not like I had imagined waking up to the scent of her lying next to me or imagined watching her walk, the way she swayed her…

Are you even listening to me? Bosco said as he grabbed me by the arm.

Yes. I am. I will not mess this up. I replied between breaths and made my way toward her.

My palms were a bit sweaty which was a little uncharacteristic for me. There were no books at the section near her that I could use as a ruse. I mean, really, grabbing a book on IT for Dummies would not make the best opening. Winging it was the next best option.

From that point on, every thing seemed to be going fine. Well, that is until about now. Now, it felt like someone had turned the air condition on in Bistro. I could have sworn that as soon as I mentioned the website, she had sat up straighter and her tone about the email sounded different. Bosco would say I am doing it again. Noticing things that are not even there.

Email is so impersonal, I prefer meeting all clients and partners face-to-face, you know? I say while smiling. Face to face interaction allows people to understand each other better, even from reading nonverbal cues, you know when to sell harder or back off. 

Jeez! I sound like I’m a lecturer at Makerere! What am I doing?!

So what are my nonverbal cues telling you? She asked while sipping her tea.

I suppress a smile, I wonder if she appreciated how her actions had meme material written all over them. Ice. That is what her current nonverbal cues were screaming at him. She was throwing daggers of ice at him and he had no clue why

Honestly, I do not know you well enough to gauge.

That was such a lie! Why am I spewing so many lies today?! I knew her well. I’d watched her at the front of the class for three years. The last two of them spent seriously infatuated with her.

However, what I do know is that you will absolutely love this project.

During those two years, I had learned that Paige loved to get involved in children’s causes. I had volunteered at one event, just because she had gone around class giving out flyers. I was the only one who had signed up that day. That was the same day she had turned, looked at me and smiled. The world had shifted slightly that day.

I leaned over and placed my hand on top of hers, We are trying to mobilise people to visit orphanages around the city on Christmas day. We would like a place where people can sign up, but more importantly be able to give to the cause on the website as well. 

She smiled.

That same smile that made her dimple show. That same smile that elicited a physical reaction from me. That same smile from that day in class. At least this counts to progress! Global warming was hitting the glaciers.

I glanced at our hands, noticing for the first time how soft her hands really were.

I really hope… 

JARED!

Came a shriek on my right. A shriek that I know very well. I’m trying not to groan out load. Sophia! What did she want? And NOW of all times!!

She waddled while panting toward their table, with a small suitcase in tow. The waiters looking slightly confused, slightly worried about the scene that was about to unfold before their eyes

My water. It just broke! Sophia gasped out of breath

***

This is part two in the dandelion series.

Dandelions or Satan’s Jajja as I used to call them in primary school are beautiful and almost have a certain ethereal quality. This, however, does not take away the reality that they are weeds, plain and simple.

There is a mini-poll going on amongst some about the identity of Sophia and who she is to Jared. Who do you ‘want’ her to be?

Part one can be found here

just another dandelion #UGBlogWeek

I’ve been counting down the hours to this meeting. I’m calling it that because using the word date would make my heart beat a lot faster than it should. I’m getting chills even thinking about it.

He has been on my mind since that day in class, that day I turned and I looked at him. He was no longer just another classmate that I took no notice of. No. Looking at him then, he was a such the fox whose wool had fallen off. After that, every single glance elicited the dimple that has been kept hidden from the audience of the masses. I’m shocked at how long we have been in close contact and I have all but given him a once over. Talk about time wasted.

I’m here now. Seated in the Cafe. 2 hours early. Bidding time. You are rolling your eyes because you think I am desperate, don’t you? No. I am not desperate. I am just punctual. I detest being late especially to something that I have clearly been looking forward to. I mean really, why act fashionably late – keyword being act.

I glance at the clock in the cafe, it’s 1.50 minutes left. I should probably order something as I wait. God knows it might make the time go faster. I’m at the cafe adjacent to the cafe we agreed to meet at. Did you really think I’d be seated at the venue for 2 hours, come on! No. I plan to be at the venue at 2 sharp. 2pm will find me walking in, smelling fresh and smiling sweet.

Window shop. That’s what I need. I weave my way through Woolworths and Mr. Price, calling on my temperamental accent (half English-half Kenyan accent) whenever I needed to act like I’m important enough to shop in these spots. Yeah, some facades are real!

I bump into a friend as I cross the mall, now headed to Aristoc, to hide in one of its corners with a good book that I cannot afford. She is looking at me with that glance. The one that says, I am trying not to feel sorry for you in your single state. You see, we used to be tight – through out vacation and campus, we were as thick as thieves, but now she is married with twins and I’m just here crushing on a twin.

Jared.

Sigh! Who names their child Jared? Okay. Let me clarify that statement, which Ugandan names their child Jared? A Ugandan parent with a vision, that’s who! Goodness! I’m smiling just thinking about his name.

I hand the guard my helmet and look out for The secret lives of Baba Segi’s wives, I find a comfortable seat and set my alarm before I start the book. I know myself, when I get lost in a good book, dusk and dawn roll into one.

I turn to the first page when it happens. I catch a whiff of a cologne that has kept me up for several nights. Some men just know how to pick the right cologne. I choose to ignore, after all, my mind is made up – Jared and I will become the real deal.

The scent is getting stronger and my concentration is fleeing. Mr. Scent smells like he is walking toward me, Dear God don’t let him sit here! I cannot cheat on Jared.

Paige?

The world stops. A prickly sensation attacks my underarms, which normally means this is the onset of patched sweaty underarms.

Control yourself WOMAN! My brain admonishes the rest of me in a very strong tone.

I look up and the hallelujah chorus is coursing through my veins. Cupid had drawn back his bow and his arrow had hit it’s target.

Jared? No way! 

My voice sounded surprisingly more controlled than my fingers showed.

I got here a little earlier and decided to spend time trolling books in Aristoc. You know hiding the ones I really want but cannot afford.

He does what? Could the universe be more specific – I do exactly the same thing!! My eyes seem to have given away my reaction because he has raised his hand to him mouth.

I probably shouldn’t have said that, you probably think I’m weird, he says while doing the African blush.

I laugh and say, weird is good. What? Did you really think I was going to let him know I do the exact same thing. Nah bruh, sometimes games are good and no, I am not being a hypocrite. Why am I explaining myself anyway, this is my story. I discretely turn off my alarm as we head to the cafe together.

We walk to the Bistro together, because face it – Bistro is where all magical connections begin. Well, at least the magical connections in my head.

His hair is cut just right and his eyes do that squint thing that I find so adorable. He smiles starts from the right side of his mouth and a shadow of a dimple is formed on his right cheek. His cologne is still driving me crazy but I like this kind of crazy. I’m watching him from the corner of my eye, committing everything to memory like that git commit command.

We are seated inside and the waiter brings the menu, I already know what I’m going to have. A. Tall. Drink. Of. Water. He orders an expresso and I go for the lemon-ginger honey tea. I’d rather have a milkshake but milk and my tummy, not for a first meeting.

We talk about the weather, current affairs, even the parking situation in Kampala. In my mind, I’m ticking imaginary radio buttons, going check. We have rapport – check. He scent is absolutely intoxicating – check. He doesn’t speak in the dis-dah-do-dem-dey – check.

Silence. Gosh, We are silent. He is looking at me intently. Crap! Did he ask something and I wasn’t paying attention?

Sheepishly, I admit that my mind wandered off, and ask him what he just said.

Will you do our website?

I’m sorry what? Reality beginning to dawn on me

The reason I wanted to meet with you was to ask if you would do our website. We have seen some of the sites you work on and my friends and I think you would make our project website really ridiculously good.

***

This is part one in the dandelion series.

Dandelions or Satan’s Jajja as I used to call them in primary school are beautiful and almost have a certain ethereal quality. This, however, does not take away the reality that they are weeds, plain and simple.

I am not yet sure where this story is heading but I hope you enjoy this journey discovery with me.

[#UGblogWeek – Day 2] Whose side are you on?

I’m wringing my hands again, as if that will help the dull ache that has returned. The ache in my heart which, coincidentally, is now beating only because it has too. I am mad at you. Again. Why do I put myself through this!

My gaze falls on my left hand which bears no mark of commitment whatsoever. Quite the contrary, the manicured fingernails perfectly compliment the delicate fingers, yet still something is missing.

I pick up the phone and dial the number that I had saved as a sequence of patterns. He picks up the phone and I can tell there is a lump caught in his throat as the gruff hey comes out. I’m sorry, I spill out – rubbing my nose with the back of my hand, this is a technique that I have found will keep the tears at bay a little while longer. No, babe, it’s my fault. As he proceeds, the dam breaks and there is a massive overflow of incoherent mutterings on my end, that seem to insist that I take the blame.

muzhchina-zhenschina-oruzhie-anime

The route we have taken to define this thing has left many wondering how we have kept going.

It’s the look in his eyes when I catch him looking at me, that gentle yet fierce look that leaves me both breathless and shy. The way we linger in the hug, like we each know, we want it to be one second longer. That first day, when he rested his hand on my waist and all I saw was red lines and the end credits scene of the story that is my single-hood.

You see, we are a bit like Mary and Henry Talbot, they all labeled me as cold and unfeeling and yet one touch from you sets ablaze several significant portions of my being. The imprint of your hand, is still seared onto my back from that first day. You pulled me toward you and smiled, everything inside me melted like a candle’s wax giving way to it’s wick.

You have no idea who Adama is or why Civil War has set itself up to be an epic battle. You smile bemused when I reenact mine are bigger than yours and look on in disbelief as I fidget about setting up the PS4 whilst cursing technology under my breath. The geek who fidgets with hardware – what a conundrum!

kobe-bryant-is-flanked-by-lebron-james-and-dwayne-wade-of-team-usa
errm…

I watch as it ticks you off that I cannot tell the difference between Kobe, Wade and Lebron while I make a fuss over the FedExpress and the Djoker.

Novak-Djokovic-Suit-Wallpaper
why.not??

Once while we were hosting, I commented out loud how I thought Van Gaal & Mourinho should be left alone to play in the team the next season. I smiled to myself proud of the fact that I had mentioned a football players, only to see the look of utter disbelief on your face as your friends that we were hosting suddenly found the pillowcase embroidery an interesting case study. I took the disbelief to mean something positive.

Your mother seems to keep dropping subtly veiled hints and it has me worried, you brush it off but I cannot shake it. I see the same glint of uncertainty in your eyes when my brothers demand your presence at the Rubgy Pitch. Beer + Pork + The Game — their idea of bonding.

You say nakedness is a state that you would prefer to be in, the shock that befell me upon the realisation that you were being serious was comical. Truth is it was all for show really, because I have not revealed to you my complete aversion of water. Well, on the weekends mostly — why waste water when countries are prepared to go to war over it. If it was important enough to be raised in a presidential debate, it is important enough to consider.

We work because we have chosen that this thing, the one we call love will conquer all. Every difference that we are told will be our downfall, we have chosen to look at — then look beyond. You see, we picked a side: Ours & we have learned how to play for our team.

We have both had perfect before, it never left a sweet taste in our mouths. Only the bitter ache that comes with salted pillows in the midnight hour. No. We have had perfect before, we were determined not to go back.

Our individual little imperfections have cemented the missing pieces in each other making us — together, the perfect one.

Disclaimer: This is was all fiction, but it was so much fun to write.
PS: Ahem… The inspiration of this post came from JJ’s blog – blame him!
In Other News, you UBW dose of Calvin & Hobbes…

_calvin_nude_descending

P.P.S.: If you haven’t caught on by now, the water aversion is real…
Image Source: Google Images

[#UGblogWeek – Day 1] Hi. Kirabo.

It’s 7 am and my first thought is: It’s Valentines day. It is such a curious day, this one. The only other holiday that has the ability to record a spike in depression and suicide rates. Very droll, I know. But then again, I am single and practically putting one step through the dreaded thirties door – what do I have to celebrate about this day?

I had intended on writing to ‘my the one‘ – in whichever time-space dimension he might be; but then the voice on the radio said – “You’re listening to Nightfall” and then I smiled and giggled. I remembered that feeling I had when they sang Auld Lang in that final scene in Downton Abbey. *giggles again* I think it fitting that I start this #UGblogWeek by loving on me. *giggles again again* Yes, that was such a loaded statement.

Kirabo – It is okay, that you are a bit of an enigma – and not in the derogatory sense. No. You will never fully figure yourself out … BUT isn’t that the mystery of life?

You see, you can sit down to an entire 6 seasons of Downton Abbey and still re-watch Cartoon Network’s version of the Justice League – All 91 episodes. You get extremely irritated with Gaius Baltar as you did with Thomas Barrel. There was this one time, you watched Bongo – A Swahili channel with drama from Tanzania. Surely there must be people out there who do not only one specific t.v. genre (if they are referred to as that)?

Next up, Kirabo: that grey mattered object that is protected by your skull is Ah-Maize-ng.

You love to gobble up knowledge. You love that feeling at the beginning of starting something new – You know, when you get that tingly sensation in your fingers that turns them numb. Your free time is normally a mess of activity that revolves around swearing you will dust your room next weekend, reading a book, starting a knitting project, finishing up a website, catching up on devotion, doing nothing but listening to the radio on Saturday morning, writing Python, write English, bugging your friends about meeting up & being sorely disappointed to find out they all have lives (tehehe, but remember, you are an introvert).

For you, staying attentive in a conversation for more than 20 minutes is such a chore. You can literally have a day-dream within a day-dream.

_calvin
*giggles* Well, now everyone knows.

So this one time, you heard a rumour about the fact the guys do not particularly like girls who are smart or known to be bright, if you will. You did the kikiga snort and said, “LIES!!”. Then a friend of yours, *sigh* yes… people mean well. They sat you down and BOOM! You got the pep-talk along the lines of “Girl, you ain’t getting any younger, you need to dumb it down”

Kirabo: Your accomplishments are nothing to be ashamed of. No. The journey towards each of them are a testimony that God is already using.

You have two degrees – both with valedictory status. You have accumulated 9 years working experience – at companies that have been at extreme ends of the spectrum. You have been involved in inspiring more girls to find ways of including technology in their lives; and at the same time, you have been involved in working with girls to grow deeper in their knowledge of God. You have also been involved in using your past experience in kicking the butts of local founders/entrepreneurs to get-it up to the next level.

You spent two years living by yourself across two different continents. Traveled from the East to the West Coast by yourself. Froze your toes off because you had no winter boots – learned to take shortcuts through buildings with heating. You climbed a rock, using your hands and feet (what exactly possessed you to do so, is a post for another day), You went rafting and conquered a level 5 rapid on the River Nile (again, whatever possessed you…).

"'ow u gon dumb this down, girl??"
“Girl, ‘ow u gon dumb ALL this down?!?!”

 

Next up, Kirabo

Ahh… You almost forgot the other crucial accomplishment – You are soon to celebrate 3 decades of existence on the planet earth**. One might be tempted to quote about all the characters both in present day and bible time, whose lives began at the 30 mark but we shall not. The surprises that are stored up for you will surpass anything that your 29th year brought. Cheesy, yes? Just believe it. Just like the way, your eyes ignore your nose 90% of the time – You hardly ever see what is ahead of you – There is someone else who does, trust that they know what is best for you.

No, Kirabo. You are not simple but then again who is? One look at the human neural system is enough to know that no one is simple. No matter the facade they carry around with them.

There is so much more to you than the things that come to your mind, or the things that people often complain about. You must celebrate each season because, man, you wont get it back. There is no Rip Hunter in normal life, today is all you are going to get.

So take a sip of that Chardonnay as go back and edit this post whilst thinking about the m.t.o post you will probably write next. Hopefully, it will be a little more coherent than this one.

Yours Always,
the.inner.kirabo.

** April 4th to be exact – Note it down, I am not on FB so you will not be reminded by some algorithm. I accept gifts – especially those of the tech variety – think Drones, Oculus Rifts.

P.S: If you are still reading this, then here is a gift for you…

_Bath_Struggling _calvin-and-hobbes-bath

**Image Source: Google Images
P.P.S: This entire post felt like one long deja vu moment.
P.P.P.S: Tehehe… There are breadcrumbs in this post.
Okay, I am done. For real now. Bye.

#UGBlogWeek: Goofball Chronicles

I have this insane affinity for mirrors and I have no idea why.

You know that moment when you are in the bathroom, after you have finished your business. Whether it was a number 1 or a number 2, somehow, now that it is out, all is right with the world. You have a tune in your head and your lips are just about to comply to let it out. You open the tap to wash your hands – after all, health is a priority. It’s a mindless chore really, you squirt out the soap and go about scrubbing.

Then you look up.

Your eyes lock.

For the briefest second, you see the glimmer in your reflection’s eyes. Daring you to do something insanely silly – After all, no one is watching, the door is locked anyway.

I always fall for it… For the next 5 minutes, I go full-on-Mr-Bean-aint-got-nothin-on-me-goofball. From crossing my eyes to making the duck face thing or even strutting about like a Victoria Secret Model – anything goes. Or the Bond theme song, that beginning part when the target is moving before he shoots…

Best time to do all this… Yeah, you guessed it! In the afternoon, when productivity is dipping – what better way to give your creativity a boost.

This one time, I went all Liam on my reflection, “I don’t know who you are…”. Then of course there are the moments when I dare my reflection to do something different… I stare back at the girl looking at me and will her to wiggle her eyebrows or smirk. Of course she just looks back with the same expression on her face… Taunting me.

Ofcourse if she did move, I’d probably run around screaming, “Yamawe, KOKO!” However, we all know that will never happen.

So here is your afternoon creative jumpstart recipe…

Thank me later…

** Image from Google Images