Picture this:

Picture this:

“A lion. A big lion. Large and fierce, with razor-sharp interlocking teeth allover it’s mouth and where the tongue is supposed to be. A perfect rolex shredding machine. But one that isn’t powered by rolexes (sorry Tyson) but by jaw activity, chasing after you.”

{Last_Night} Somewhere in Kakyeka…
So this is truly happening: I’m in this dark place, mirky waters splashing off the heals of my boots, heart rate steadily up there but my lungs suffocating- running. Ironically, my feet are held tightly together by 98% cotton, polyester and sheer emotion… but still I’m running. There’s this thing chasing after me and I don’t really know what it is, but judging from the deadly snare and mucus wetting the behind of my lobes, it would seem that I’m being chased by a modern day dunkleosteus, but like I said, I can’t be certain, I haven’t managed to get a good look at it yet… or never, fine by me. It could as well be Tyson (sorry again). But at least then I’d know for sure that it’s not trying to eat me, not the whole of me anyway. Just the ears (Ziyal’s words). So I guess that leaves about several other horrendous ways this could end. I have about four options myself. The ground seems pretty levelled if you ask me. The first option is to grab a cold Guinness from the freezer and just sit it out. Die boldly. Leave a mark on my fine sneakers like Nicholas Cage in TOKAREV. Nice movie by the way- about zero Russians smiling.

The second option is to keep running and hope the creature never catches up with me. Cardinal word being hope. I like Hope, not who I’m talking about though. You know hope- that pointless thing that people like to do to make unseemly bright futures seem less inevitable and more in their control and/or favour. Which surprisingly seems to work. But pass. That was actually a setup for a pun on A-Pass, I finally listened to all two of his tracks, but dude… you get no pass.

The third option. Running faster. This is more of Floyd’s m├ętier and of course, not very reasonable. I could be heading right for their den for all I know. I just don’t see how getting there any faster improves my chances, unless I have a Mnara strapped around me of course. But sure, It would buy me time to prepare… to arm myself sufficiently to fight off and eliminate this beast if possible, or trick it into swallowing Mnara’s head and choking off his forehead, among other things (there you go Tracy with the weird name). But this plan too has a major flaw in it, even if I somehow managed to cough up a Mnara (okay, just the head) and still be alive for it, I’d still need a pulley, an instruction manual and his mother’s diary to start with.

The fourth option is more idealistic, cerebral in a way and perhaps ballsy for most. Monks get this, but we can’t all be monks now can we? Option four requires me to take the beast and/or it’s ground advantage out of the picture, cognitively by flying away, teleporting it away or better yet, building me a flying city, affirming that this… this thing never gets to me while I sleep. Meaning I would have to sacrifice my urges for being on the ground as well. But I can’t part with the ground as yet, I still haven’t gotten over my fear of heights. Museveni relates to this point of view, Alex too but no one cares what he thinks.

But do you know what I do next? I set my alarm in intervals so it can wake me up at various times of the night. That way I don’t spend my sleep time writing things like this… waking up screaming quails, coughing out feathers and dictators only to find that this thing, this beast… was just scared for it’s own life, perhaps because it saw me running and by instinct thought we were both in mortal danger, who knows? Why did the chicken cross the road? If you ask me… Balloteli. But we don’t really know, do we? Things we’ll never be sure about because some idiot forgot to charge their tablet, or whatever. *breathes out loudly- finally catches up with that strong feeling, all that oomph oozing out of my burned out thumb tips. Well that settles it, no more animal planet for this guy.



Things I don’t put on Facebook

NP – Jay Rock Ft. Kendrick Lamar, Ab-Soul and ScHoolboy Q – Vice City

Pineal – There’s a muscle within each of us, you see. Segregated against … sanctified of truth and of purpose by those we uphold in leadership roles … and thus, unworthy of cogitation by the average 21st Century being. The same being writes this now – with thoughts yet to be validated, and segregated against. Or even admired as such … etc, etc. The cycle is endless, seemingly unfathomable like Wenger’s facial scalp (of all things). The same scalp from which most rich people have persistently kept away that which doesn’t truly belong – like the pattern their back-head-flesh makes when they turn their gaze to the heavens after meals so exotic, that they don’t truly belong… to thank God for fortunes he didn’t exactly avail … if at all he does, or so I think.

“Ask yourself; is that extra meal on your table really worth it when somebody else out there, closer than you’d hate to admit, lays starved throughout this cold, austerity weather?” What have we become? Alien to one another, comfortable in isolation … or more so, our own friends? “Humanity – for all the might we are, lets be just that.”

8 days ago – About Friends

We are accorded equalled right to in-deference, but we do not have the right to get messed up individually.

“You’re friends with people only until they start missing out on jokes. Here; watch me lose a couple more on this one.” (I never posted this before cause I’d hate to bleed more friends). (And there’s the bleeding heart every ex admires). I can tell y’all’re being judgmental right now but before we go any further, know this; “that was a joke… a very bad one at that.” There’s no light at the end of the tunnel to walk towards if you’ve been missing out on jokes and thereafter, spreading false facts about your mates. There’s only pain, suffering, shitty music, and bad beer. And also NEYO – who coincidentally is all of the above. And perhaps a one, Victor Frankenstein? I would never have written that correctly without predictive text, you know. So, thank you technology – on occasion of course. 7 days ahead I intend to publish this … with more relevance to tech.

Just yesterday – So listen, I’m going through some pretty amazing things, things that keep me, bind me from most social relations but I have to write every once in a while, to lay off steam just for the sake of it. And as I’m soon to always quote; a long-ass update @ week keeps the “missing persons'” report away. I hate to worry some of you here, (with emphasis on some) so here’s something I wrote and/or compiled in my more amiable moods – a wake, on the right side of bed if I must emphasize it. A weekly exclusive of all my mischievous run-ins as they precisely occurred, that I intend to run as a blog … as I just have … in my better spirited moods. And yeah, they often swing but mostly to the left – the moods, I mean. Besides, I’m right handed so I guess that explains half of it.

Here; I’ve type-searched ebony quite a lot in the past month alone that my keyboard predictively brings up ANC as a suggestion for lively ants. And I can prove it. But what is that; lively ANC? These things – these so called “smart-phones” aren’t that smart, I tell you. I’m serious. Just the other day I had Comfort call me death … predictively by her own “smart-phone” if I should believe it. But just yesterday I also walked behind these two, really hot girls and didn’t stare at their butts, if you even believed it. Anyhoo, she supposed it so I guess I’ll just have to believe her. But that doesn’t ease my frustration, not for a single bit. I must also report that the guy seated in front of me is chewing gum rather too loudly. I can’t see why that’s annoying but I’ll go ahead and rant about it. Perhaps next time.

You see, lately I’ve taken to wearing stockings indoors (shudder). This might or might not have inference to the works of Buddhist monks on restoring balance to one’s life, which I’ve insanely indulged in these past few weeks. It so happens that ranting, which is one of the issues I intend to counter, comes so naturally to me. Even though I wasn’t always bully bait as a youngster, that part of me needn’t ANC. You see? I do that a lot. To reiterate; it comes so naturally to me. Like eating, or say complaining, or even fisting to um … those other beings.

3 days ago, time unclear:

Fell asleep with my Facebook open a while ago, and I’m glad to announce that I’ve successfully uploaded my subconscious onto the WWW. Pretty cool stuff, except for the math. And what douche codes an entire language in ones and zeros?! I’d go ahead to hypothesize on the matter if I hadn’t just shared the perfect example.