DEAD MAN’S RHAPSODY.

If your tears drop when am gone,

it is the emotions of the memories we made are strong,

when you face away from the mob,

let it all out and sob,

when you get weak and fall,

get back up and stand tall,

for one day i will go to sleep,

and in the morning i will be gone.

if my dogs whimper till dawn,

let them mourn and howl,

if the gas rans out of the stoves,

cut the eucalyptus that nest the doves,

if they fare me well with a bottle of whisky,

a moment of silence for the days we were tipsy,

for one day i will go to sleep,

and in the morning i will be gone.

if my absence makes life a difficult task,

it is in the concept of better days you’ll trust,

if my flowers by the vases start to wither,

it is me they seek for heather,

if the sparrows forsake the acacia,

don’t doubt they have caught amnesia,

for one day i will go to sleep,

and in the morning i will be gone.

THE EYE THAT SEES.

what would you tell someone who tells you if you went out to the wild and caught a buffalo and domesticated it, it would no longer be a buffalo but a cow? Some of you would agree with me, some would just say its a domesticated buffalo and some would just scoff me and say,” cut the crap! A buffalo is a buffalo whether it plays the harp, wears make up or goes for a paint job.” Of all honesty there is, we all have different views, different reasoning and comprehending abilities. For the same reason, that’s why we have scholars, achievers and philosophers. And as William Atkinson puts it- ‘nature delights in variety; no two sets of circumstances are precisely the same – infinite variety manifests here also. And so it would be folly to attempt to lay down rules of universal application, which would surely lead all to the great goal of Success.’ Well, the whole agenda of this article is not about the buffaloes and cows nor is it about the savvy from the dullards- but its about seeing and appreciating people for who they really are.

We have normalized dragging people through the same treacherous road they sworn to never trend upon. Affiliating them with their past mistakes as if people don’t change. Deliberate or oblivious, we have missed to grasp the fact that what we are doing is traumatizing and stigmatizing them. Making them believe in the long run what we say about them is actually true. Is it not how reverse psychology works?A societal expectation of a person who has been incarcerated is to fit within the bulwark of its rules and regulations. But the same society is in the forefront pointing fingers and yapping blame game unto the ex-convicts. I remember not so long ago, UKs top spoken word artist Suli Breaks put it so raw in one of his recordings saying,” the same society that is against abortion is the same society that looks down upon teenage parents. The same society that endorses charity is the same society that has preachers owning private jets..“It goes without saying, the irony is impeccable! And thats why i find it fit to say that a persons happiness should not lie with the public domain. The public eye is unstable- it flickers and shutters uncontrollably and never takes time to capture the holistic image of its subject. With that in mind, the credits to one happiness should not lie with the public domain, but with the individual. We should learn to embrace ourselves more, to love ourselves more and appreciate the lessons we go through in the joy that tomorrow will be a better day. We should definitely learn to see love, kindness, hope in others and not hate, contempt or condemnation. There is much to humanity than chronology of faults when it comes to assessing our colleagues.

Lets exercise using the eye that sees not the eye that judges. And to my partying shot; if you met a reformed ex convict who did time for murder, would you see a reformed person or a murderer? If you met a reformed drug addict who just came from rehab do you see an addict or a testimony of self improvement? With that said, if you went out to the jungle and tamed a buffalo would it no longer be a buffalo but a cow?

REDEEM!

Remind me why it feels like i held you yesterday,

why it feels like the lighting hit the same place twice,

remind me why you ran from your folks,

just to come see me in the boondocks,

remind me why i mattered,

why 3 years ago i was the source of your laughter,

Remind me today,

the promises you repetitively uttered,

Remind me the acacia tree,

where our names you engraved,

remind me the secrets you promised to take to the grave,

Remind me woman! Remind me the memories we made.

Remind the sun why it stuck on the horizon,

every time we went for picnic on the plains,

remind me why you cried in the rain,

and while with me shunned the pain,

remind me the songs,

that we danced to while drunk,

Remind me the memories,

please help me retract,

remind me my purpose,

that you distinctively believed i should muster,

Remind me woman! remind me the memories we made.

GREATNESS OVERRATED.

Let a man alter his thoughts and he will be astonished at the rapid transformation it will effect in the material conditions of his life. And….yes, I know altering once life into a whole new path isn’t as easy as most of the what-not puts it. But effort put towards any positive direction is considered a metamorphosis to greatness. It is more than a society’s expectation for one to be in dire need to fit within the boundaries of good will as it is embraced as an act of commitment to one self to be of help to his fellow beings. Despite the fact that greatness is desired by many, no one really can tell the exact measure of greatness. Is it material possession or is it level of education achieved? I think I would be right to say measure of greatness is just by a notion. it can’t be backed up by a certain juncture of attainment. And thats why it disturbs me when people think other people settling for something is less of what they should have settled for. It is not only judge-mental but self-centered and morally unjustified. In a journey to be the very best i can, i have found my self being the worst version i can be and for a minute i felt like my life was somewhat a physics excerpt, you know, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. In the essence that, my toiling and diligence towards a better me is at times shattered back to the latter me in equal measure. And as I truthfully agree that as a being of Power, Intelligence, and Love, and the lord of his own thoughts, man holds the key to every situation, and contains within himself that transforming and regenerative agency by which he may make himself what he wills, God knows it ain’t easy as such. It is humiliating let alone frightening just looking at the number of people mostly in Africa who are drowning in depression and all sort of emotional torture. The kind of pain that doesn’t speak for itself out loud unless when its too late. The kind of pain that doesn’t have to have a bandage on so that one can know you are hurting. I said mostly in Africa because I feel like in our African countries we don’t take depression with the seriousness it ought to be given. The number of teenagers with depression and anxiety in our country is way off the grid and the measures put to help curb this disorders or help heal the victims is not an inch close to par. I believe the youths in our nation are doing the best they can. But the amenities put up by the society to succor the efforts of our young men are missing in action. It is a kid in Baringo, laikipia, kajiado or samburu who will wake up tomorrow morning just like the norm, milk the cows then head to the plains to heard them. That’s the best version of greatness he will ever know. He will know his better part of his life that greatness is not missing to milk the cows in the morning and not missing to head to the plains every day. And he will be glad he is great at it. It is a mother in kakamega who will wake up each and every day to go find odd jobs in better-off families farms to feed her 6 children. She will believe that waking up everyday to go work in her neighbors farm is her greatness. And she will be glad that she is great at it. Then there is you. you will wake up everyday and you will do what you always do. You will be glad that you got paid for what you did. But you will be depressed because either you are not good at it or there is something else you feel that you can be great at. There will be a feeling that something else holds your greatness. It is you that shall be great if you seek that greatness. For if it pains, you sure as hell going to gain. For you that judge your friends for settling be it a relationship or a job that you feel isn’t good for them, that’s you feeling that you can’t stomach it but they probably feel at home. Greatness, is what you do and your heart freely swings in harmony as a kite with every move of your bone. Greatness, is a song that your soul sings when you are asleep and when you are long gone. Greatness is greatness when we look at it without judgment, without jealousy, without hate but sheer love.

LOST FREQUENCY.

I still pour my tea in that delamere-yoghurt can,
Just to feel that moment one more time,
I hope my tea mugs don’t protest,
for long now they haven’t served me,
I feel like am slowly worshipping this feeling,
of wanting to relive this moment time and again,
my dog has noticed this obsession,
so he whines as he buries his face into the couch pillows,
the frequency to my normality is surely lost.

the weekend rhapsodies have turned to weekend maladies,
how do I forgive time for not healing me?
you oftenly said that the gods were always in favour of me,
how did I not know you were this wrong,
ask the gods how much beer I have spilled to conciliate them,
honouring the dead and the living with least maladroitness,
pretending to be okay amongst men that judge you if you not,
but you still won’t show up to felicitate me for the sound demeanor,
how not are this gods not kidding?
the frequency to my normality is surely lost.

it is the son of man that has shot his shot,
it is the gods that have moved the target,
you might have find it funny,
but I have found it not,
it is he who remembers that yoghurt,
that you bought him on your first date,
knowing you was just wasting his not so available time,
is it not you who is deadlier than corona?
is it not you the clot in his blood vessel?
daughter of venus release the son of man,
For it is the hundredth time i have checked and still, the frequency to his normality is lost.

 

 

 

KINUTHIA AND THE CHIEF.

They might have been smoking the same tobacco but from different pipes. Drinking the same brandy but from different glasses. This was a week before March 12th. Yes, a week before the official outbreak of covid-19 pandemic in Kenya. In a bed sitter in roysambu, the boys, Kinuthia and Omolo, were living the life any millennial would have traded for. Omolo was a punk and kinuthia his clod. Born and brought up in Rhunda. His dad was a forex trader and his mum a doctor. Boy always had money on him. i mean good lotsa money when i say money. Kinuthia was a delinquent from Nyeri. A son of a peasant. How Kinuthia landed in the university nobody fathomed. It is still a mystery. He didn’t have the money nor the grades. Why would a boy from one of the finest suburbs in the nation end up in a bedsitter with a delinquent from Nyeri? witchcraft had nothing to do with it and neither was fate. So what really transpired?As i said before, Kinuthia was one intimidative chap. He was a con. Not that kind of a lad that would trick you into giving out your belongings but he would pull your leg into a situation just so that he could benefit from it. He had perfected his skill while he was still a young boy feeding his parent’s goats and cows in Mathira-Nyeri. And the skill grew in him as he grew on. Was it not Kinuthia who tricked the area Chief to hold a fundraiser for him to go to Harvard university after faking the paper work. Despite the residents of Mathira knowing Kinuthia as a undisciplined boy, they all had turned out and contributed amount not less than $7000 only for them to learn that Kinuthia had ended up in Kenyatta university. It was in this university, that Kinuthia met Omolo. Kinuthia, smoked marijuana. For Omolo, marijuana for a kid who gets everything done for him was hard to get. Thats how they all ended up in one roof. Kinuthia, was the guy with the plug. without him, Omolo wouldn’t know where to get some stuff from. Omolo, was the guy with the money and without him, Kinuthia knew he had nothing much to offer himself. And with Covid-19 in town, these two chaps had to part ways and go back to their folks since the university had been shut down. Was Kinuthia going to go back to the same community that he took for a joy ride? He definitely didn’t have any options left keeping in mind that Omolo was also taking off. Kinuthia had got home in the evening and the neighbours had seen him make his way through the shopping centre into the alley that led to their home but they decided not to dig out old bones. Kinuthia was okay back in the village. But for how long was he going to survive on his marijuana stash? After two weeks, Kinuthia and his stash were done. Kinuthia was no rookie. His smoking game was waaay waaay above the par. He would smoke a kilo of weed like its nothing. And thats why Celine had fallen for him in the first place. But thats a story for another day. In two and half weeks, Kinuthia was literally going crazy. Boy wouldn’t sleep, wouldn’t eat and he barely talked with his folks. you know what worried him much? its the famous upcoming 4:20. He didn’t have marijuana and he knew if he didn’t have something to post on his social media platforms, his throne as the Doobie master would be up for grabs after the infamous covid-19. So being Kinuthia, he cooked up an idea. First, he had to make it to Chege( the weed peddler from across the river) before the sun came up. immediately at 5am he was up running through the tea plantations to make it to Chege on time. Chege was a bodaboda operator by day and by night, a weed peddler. So Kinuthia knew he had to be there before 6 am which he managed to. Having bought some few joints, the problem was now how to smoke the doobie. Kinuthia’s folks were home fulltime. He had no spot to lit the herb and it made him crazy. 4:20 was here and Kinuthia knew he had to do something. He believed he had just the right plan to pull off. So on Monday, 20th April, year 2020(4:20:20) Kinuthia went to the chiefs office. And as you well know, social media buzzes with anything that is trending. And from his office, the chief, wouldn’t clearly tell what 4:20 that he kept seeing people post on social media meant. He actually thought he was missing out on something and posted on his facebook timeline ‘happy 4:20 people’. When the chief saw Kinuthia, he felt like punching him right there and then for humiliating him before the locals. Kinuthia with his cocky skills, he managed to talk down the chief and went ahead asking,” Bwana Chief, i just wanted to let you know incase of anything am willing to help with this early changes of the curfew to 4:20pm from 5pm.” Still angry at Kinuthia, the Chief replied,”i dont need anything from you Kinuthia go home.” Kinuthia went home knowing that he had played the game well. The chief had now perceived 4:20 as the time the curfew had been changed to. Besides, it was all over the social media. He consoled himself. At lunch time, the chief was out with his guards, telling people to be home before 4:20 the curfew had been moved a little bit early. Most people were home by 4. And kinuthia was armed to the tooth. A doobie, a matchbox and a cellphone. He lits the doobie, smokes one, gets high and records himself with his phone saying,” a doobie made the whole locals to be home at 4:20…they didn’t even know what was happening yooo….! 4:20….it is what it is man….! woah!” The following day should have been a day Kinuthia shouldn’t have looked forward to. Kinuthia was picked at home by policemen for misleading the area Chief. But he was soon released after the chief’s post went viral on facebook. The chief was taken to court and jailed. To this day, they still call Him the doobie master. The Chief who made 4:20 special for Mathira people. Kinuthia still lives. The kid who did the impossible. We can forgive him for what he did to the chief, but for the 4:20 fans, they feel that the story should live on.

Happy 4:20☺️☺️☺️

THE CRAVE I GLASS.

Wednesday evening listening to the best of Wyclef Jean. Sipping beer with a pint of cheap vodka. Am tuned in to M-tv Base. Listening to Afro beat music after they unprofessionally cut Wyclef Jean playlist. From where i sit, the network is shitty. How shitty?Mmmh….you can say dj shiti Shitty😁.So obviously you know what that means; am offline cant attend to my twitter feeds, can’t comment on anything they post on that group we worked so hard to keep live and active, and….its just sickening. So i humbly sit down, engage airplane mode , tune the volume up a lil bit and let the music do its thing. when my attention fades away from the outside world, it switches into the voices in my head. voices so clear but can’t tell what they say. would this be my brain playing games on me? But how do you tell your brain is playing poker with you when its the same brain that has to figure that out? And thats where the black, tiny curved glass comes in. The glass that i have held in times of happiness and times of sadness. The glass that i always fill up to get my sane together. And if am being honest, everyone has this specific glass.That one glass no one drinks from but you. The glass that taste the tension in your saliva, the nervousness in your lips, the anxiety, the long days, the salty tears you shed as you hold on to your drink. The glass that is closer than a friend. Closer than a brother. The fears that you share with the glass are fears you wouldn’t share with anybody. But i may take the latter back because 4 weeks ago, a group of 4 boys having a drink up got themselves pouring out their fears. Something that no one saw coming. The drink must have been strong than they thought. Strong enough to shake the pillars of their sobriety.You are not much of a street-life person if you don’t check the percentage on that bottle before you buy it. They had woken up with a hangover and after breakfast, the battle for the king of Fifa continued. You surely can’t think Ngugi would back down even after Maina mercilessly put him on his place. Boy kept blaming the pad. But isn’t not written in the books of gamers chapter 4 that no gamer shall accept defeat at all cost. We even had Ken blame it on the weather.Jeez!. 😂 After the ‘game of thrones’, the boys decided to get a replenishment-another bottle. A Scottish whisky which by a good statistical analysis of their bank accounts/ m-pesa statements, they surely had surpassed their means but you know how the boys do; they pool cash together from fuliza, mshwari, tala and the so called ’emergency’ but mischievous calls you make to your folks(remember back in college when you called your folks telling them you needed 1000 to buy Zinjanthropus for your communication skills class? i bet you do)🤷🏽‍♂️until the designated bottle sits its butt on the table. I don’t want to say Kuria was the first one to tap out but, the whiskey in my glass 🥃 surely made me see life in a whole new dimension. i was Dr. Strange of that moment.☺️ All the time i had spent with this lads there was no single time any of us wanted to be perceived as a coward. Not really as cowards per se but as people or persons who had fears. They played strong and always in that ‘I Dont Give a F**k’ mode. And if it wasn’t for the whiskey, who would have known one of us was afraid of not graduating with this Covid-19 pandemic being on the loose. Who knew one of us had the fear of dying without having a family of his own. Who would have thought one of us had the fear of not fulfilling his dreams. who would have thought that one of us wanted to rekindle the love once lost. I myself wasn’t looking forward for that type of an eulogy where all that is written is that he was born, lived and died. Apparently, We all have Covid-19 freaking us out. And its so sad that when we had the chance to fix things, we always postponed them. We never gave the situations at hand the attention they craved. Now look at us all over the social media posting our to-do list after the pandemic is over. I hope we have all had a lesson to learn. Especially those who think they can dim other people’s candles. Am damned if they don’t know who holds the lighter. If you survive this, take that glass, pour whatever suits you, sit at your favorite spot, Count your blessings and breath. For what are we left with once the darkness has fallen upon the land? is it not the memories we made? It is this memories that give us hope. Hope to have the good times back and hope to fix the mistakes that we once wish we hadn’t made. It is with this glass, that i crave the good old days.

Stay home.Sanitize.Reflect. be Safe.

We shall surpass.💪🏽

DAVID’S DEATH, PIZZA AND THE EULOGY THAT KILLED HIM TWICE.

Oh god! you should have seen him in that hoodie; slim, tall, and slightly drunk. loving himself for his flaws. completely not worried about what is and what isn’t. “Thaaaat…..bermuda short is fireee!🔥.” I must have confessed. But how do you go from wanting to compliment your friend to wanting to shut up all the same. I mean, an year ago, he was David. But right now, he wasn’t much of that. The last time i was with David(it surely kills me when i flashback on this to be honest), David died and Money-machine was born. Born with a hairy chin, a big head and torso; just like David. But today, something was off. Money-machine texted that he was in town running some errands. i really didn’t care but after months of not seeing each other, considering we were friends before his transition(obviously to money-machine daaah….), i decided why not meet and exchange greetings at-least to clear the air on where our relationship as buddies stood. But what’s a guy with monies in Diani and a broke friend back in 237 gotta do?I mean, he can snob literally everything except good wine, champagne and a lovely lass preferably light skin with a medium sized butt. Luck must have been on his side because i was amazingly bored and having locked myself in the house for the better part of the day, i would have used some distraction. So why not! So I took a shower just like any normal human being(if you don’t take a bath before you leave your house, how about you start gauging your abnormality), wore some baggy tee(i love those because they don’t expose how slim and malfunctioned i am), slim pants and you can bet if you saw me from a mile away i must have looked like those home made ice-creams. But who gives a damn!-An ice-cream or not, somebody on this crazy world loves me just the way i are, and if not, then God loves me as much as you ridicule me. You might actually find this funny but rumor has it God is slim,tall and dark(but not really malfuctioned😂). So like always. we were to meet at 1700hrs( We call it the ballads time). I was there in time or was time late and i was there?😁So we met and by the way he walked and snarled (like some business mogul) i wasn’t that sure if i should shake his hand or just exchange hellos like a bunch of strangers. Last time he really treated me like a peasant so i didn’t want to take any chances. so i just waited for what he was down for and surprisingly, he gave me a hug. “Money-machine hugs a run-of-the-mill nowadays!what a surprise!” I rattled. “is this how you say hi to your best friend? I have been away for 1year and this is how far your manners have deteriorated? Jeez! you need a beating young man!” He replied with a mellow voice. “Don’t young-man me! the last time i checked, i was embarrassed and taken in by the police for questioning on your whereabouts. And what did you do? Huh! Waking up to my missed calls every day but won’t return a call. but you have all the time in the world to call the room service for replenishments. what a good friend you are!” I angrily attacked him. “Relax bro…. I brought you dozens of coconuts! Exclusively for you!” he calmed me down. “What! You travelled all the way from Mombasa and all you would bring me its coconuts? I knew there was something wrong with you but brain paralysis was least of my expectations. At least you would have showed up with a jerrycan or two of ‘mnazi’. You have been in coast for one year and you don’t know about that coastal brew?”. What can i do with coconuts? Am actually going home i got no time for childish talk. if only i knew i should have stayed home watching Alvin and the chipmunks whilst drinking yoghurt texting my ex-girlfriend to get back with me. What a waste of time.” I replied. “wait! you broke up with Jenny? When did this happen?” he asked. ” Wow! now you magically care about me eeh? It happened when you were in Diani with a bunch of random girls posting “doing-the-most” as the caption for all of your instagram photos. Dude i thought for 6 years as your friend you had grabbed some captions from my twitter handle. I have thought many things about you but i never took you for a retard.” I exclaimed. David must have been taken by a swipe by the whole Jenny thing. It was in this confession that i learnt that david was broke, had no where to stay and was in major denial of the whole situation. Just like the good old friend i am, i offered to host him and it is in this “helping” time that i saw how far david would literary go. How far can friends go for each other? i will tell you. Ask david! From what i understand, friends should be there for you at all times at all cost. But they shouldn’t create situations so that they can be there for you. David had grown a key interest in this Jenny break up thing. David liked Jenny for two reasons only. Jenny loved pizza and so did he. So whenever she came around and luckily David was around too, then pizza had to be a frequent visitor. My favorite dish,githeri, from kwa grandma hotel was my kind of dish to go. Thats why the ‘dynamic-duo’ didn’t augur well with me when it came to meals. Actually, there were rumors in the house that, the granny(from kwa grandma hotel) had bewitched me into extreme customer loyalty. Reason number two was the choice of movies that Jenny liked. Horror and drama while i was an adventure and epic type of a genre guy. Apart from those two, David passionately hated Jenny. Did she know that? well, i don’t think so and its so now….none of my worries. The fact that, we loved playing Fifa on the playstation, Jenny always got away with distracting me and David would be left all by himself holding the pad like a dullard,gazing on the screen like a drug addict who over did his pills. It must been those two things that must have made David cross the line. After a week of pure ‘investigation’, David had found out where Jenny had moved in with her new boyfriend and one evening David paid her a visit. It is this visit that Jenny’s boyfriend met David and for ignorance sake, he perceived David as Jenny’s ex-boyfriend. And as testified by Jenny later, she hadn’t really moved on as such and Tom, her new boyfriend, must have seen me as a threat. Jenny had shared David’s undying love for pizza. And just how do people end other people’s lives? Tom had gotten the bait to end David thinking that he was me. So Tom made a pizza order online, had the pizza delivered and poisoned David’s piece. You should have heard how Jenny described David’s agonizing death. “For a minute he was so jovial and happy. Telling me how we should get back together for the old times sake. The pizza and the movie marathons…..how you still love me….then all of a sudden he complained that his stomach was aching. Before he made it to the washroom he collapsed on the floor of the dining room and started farting and had foam coming out of his mouth. You should have seen his stomach. Poor child! It had inflated you would have thought he swallowed a volleyball.” She narrated as she sobbed. ” Tom must have put lots of baking soda.He wasn’t Killing a rat for heaven sake. He should have checked the BMI. The police came and arrested Tom. When they asked me my side of the story, i just told them i didn’t ‘t know much. All i knew was that it shouldn’t have been David in that body bag. It should have been me. but am really glad David took my place. Is it not what friends do? Being David’s only friend, i was give the chance to Eulogize him. And on his funeral day, i boldly walked to the pulpit to go for it,” David was a good man. So good that He decided to die in my place. He decided to die with his stomach full of pizza. Little did he know it was spiked with baking soda.[chuckles]. Indeed he was a funny man. Many a people do not get the chance to decide what they will have in their stomachs before they die. But as for him, he was well conversant with the process. As a friend, i would like to say David really lived his life to the fullest. When he hit the lottery, he took all of his money and decided he was not good enough for the swimming pool, so he went to coast to swim with the dolphins. And it is in coast, that he made Diani his home. As a great friend, i would like to say that David was stupid and foolish. It was foolish of him to Die with a stomach full of pizza. Where will he take the pizza now anyway? I understand today a pizza joint from the neighborhood has offered free pizza to commemorate their all time client. Now thats what we call unity in dire times.David has taught me many things. That i can be foolish but not foolish like he was and if i was to challenge him, that was a game i would never win. David has left me nothing but his smart Phone(which he left charging in my room)and immense anger. I talk of anger because when he left town to Diani i should have slapped him when he came back. But again, i was afraid to avenge because i thought he had left some change for me but all he had in his bag were coconuts. That should actually had made me slap his harder. But what is a friend from 237 and a dead friend got to do? Is it not to sell the phone for a cheaper price and drink cheap liquor and make a toast to the memories? David i will miss you, but the pizza joint will miss you more. I hope in heaven Pizza is a hard drug and its prohibited. If not, i can only imagine how many times you will have died before we meet again.Rest in peace compadre!” The padre takes over the pulpit and continues the service,”Thank you brother Juse for Eulogizing our departed friend. I have just been informed that the pizza has arrived so now we are going to rise up….

[Before the priest finishes to address the mass, the coffin moves. The priest takes off his spectacles with a inquisitive look. The coffin moves again. Pizza is here. what could possible hold David back? Seems like David is back!Everybody runs for his life]

From the fictional series-Juse and and the mighty David.™️

DAMNED RACE.

People want you to believe they are living the best lives out there. They will justify this by posting top-end pictures on social media platforms. Or maybe I should put it this way, people out here are messed up .Big time messed up. But they are hiding or rather covering their problems and mishappenings in the patchy shadows and casting a beam of light in the few things that they are flourishing in so that they can create this perception of success in your head. And in the process, your self-esteem gets ruptured a million times. In agreement with the principles of logic, People are just playing games on each other. I would hate to break it down this way, your friends, are just playing games on you without you knowing that they are playing games on you and, without them knowing that they are playing games on you. Your friend will go on vacation to Dubai and send you pictures to actually slap it on your face that, am in better place than you are. And what will you do? You will act happy, supportive and excited. But we both know, you wish it was you out there and you will probably start saving or apply for a loan to go to a ‘better place’ too. So that’s you now living a life you can’t afford. These are just brain games technically. People will tell you how happy they are just to make you sad or discontented with yourself without them actually noticing it. People don’t want to admit they are messed up, they are beat down, they are hurting, and they don’t want to admit they are a sad race. Tell me more often how sad you are. Don’t tell me how happy you are. Your happiness is strictly your happiness. My happiness is strictly mine. The same applies to your achievements. I know it sounds like we just solved mental health, so…yeah, thank you. Which brings me to my all time favourite question, would you read the story of a sad man? Would you? Would you sit down with your friends over some booze to talk about how sad life gets at times or how bothered you are mentally? People want to throng together to reflect on the happier days, to be happy, but they don’t want to speak out how wrecked they are. The society has set these walls too high. Walls of only focusing on the positive side to remain on the positive. I see you people post on your whatsapp statuses; focus on the future and not your past. Is that not what your mama told you? Or your chemistry teacher when you failed that practical test miserably? And the same teacher will tell you to do corrections leaving you to wonder if corrections are not a subject to our past. The irony. But how do you not face the negative and expect to handle the positive head on? How do you people avoid your past, leaving crucial tip offs on your mistakes that would have guided you on your journey to the future, and stiff-neck yourself to focus on the future based on society’s conjecture. The society has programmed us into being this insincere beings who always smile even when they are dying from inside just because pretending to be happy weighs you off the burden of being judged. It weighs you off the burden of communal scrutiny. So when I tell you that we are going mad from inside like a pig, don’t laugh, pack your documents and make an appointment with yourself before you become the swine we are talking about. We all want to be happy, that I agree with. Where do we leave those who are sad? Outside the gates of the mall while we go shopping? We can’t be that loathsome and ruthless. We have to stop being this selfish race that does not care about each other. So let’s agree on one thing; Your happiness is purely yours and you don’t have to shout it to the whole world. My happiness is solely mine and I have no obligation to anyone to make it a worldwide affair. But let us open up on how messed up we are. That, is definitely going to tone down the rate of mental health. Tell me often how sad you are. Let us listen to the sad men and you might find the composure you are looking for. They say dead men tell no tales,don’t be the dead man. Admit you are sad. SAD MEN TELL REAL TALES.

DAMNED RACE.

People want you to believe they are living the best lives out there. They will justify this by posting top-end pictures on social media platforms. Or maybe I should put it this way, people out here are messed up .Big time messed up. But they are hiding or rather covering their problems and mishappenings in the patchy shadows and casting a beam of light in the few things that they are flourishing in so that they can create this perception of success in your head. And in the process, your self-esteem gets ruptured a million times. In agreement with the principles of logic, People are just playing games on each other. I would hate to break it down this way, your friends, are just playing games on you without you knowing that they are playing games on you and, without them knowing that they are playing games on you. Your friend will go on vacation to Dubai and send you pictures to actually slap it on your face that, am in better place than you are. And what will you do? You will act happy, supportive and excited. But we both know, you wish it was you out there and you will probably start saving or apply for a loan to go to a ‘better place’ too. So that’s you now living a life you can’t afford. These are just brain games technically. People will tell you how happy they are just to make you sad or discontented with yourself without them actually noticing it. People don’t want to admit they are messed up, they are beat down, they are hurting, and they don’t want to admit they are a sad race. Tell me more often how sad you are. Don’t tell me how happy you are. Your happiness is strictly your happiness. My happiness is strictly mine. The same applies to your achievements. I know it sounds like we just solved mental health, so…yeah, thank you. Which brings me to my all time favourite question, would you read the story of a sad man? Would you? Would you sit down with your friends over some booze to talk about how sad life gets at times or how bothered you are mentally? People want to throng together to reflect on the happier days, to be happy, but they don’t want to speak out how wrecked they are. The society has set these walls too high. Walls of only focusing on the positive side to remain on the positive. I see you people post on your whatsapp statuses; focus on the future and not your past. Is that not what your mama told you? Or your chemistry teacher when you failed that practical test miserably? And the same teacher will tell you to do corrections leaving you to wonder if corrections are not a subject to our past. The irony. But how do you not face the negative and expect to handle the positive head on? How do you people avoid your past, leaving crucial tip offs on your mistakes that would have guided you on your journey to the future, and stiff-neck yourself to focus on the future based on society’s conjecture. The society has programmed us into being this insincere beings who always smile even when they are dying from inside just because pretending to be happy weighs you off the burden of being judged. It weighs you off the burden of communal scrutiny. So when I tell you that we are going mad from inside like a pig, don’t laugh, pack your documents and make an appointment with yourself before you become the swine we are talking about. We all want to be happy, that I agree with. Where do we leave those who are sad? Outside the gates of the mall while we go shopping? We can’t be that loathsome and ruthless. We have to stop being this selfish race that does not care about each other. So let’s agree on one thing; Your happiness is purely yours and you don’t have to shout it to the whole world. My happiness is solely mine and I have no obligation to anyone to make it a worldwide affair. But let us open up on how messed up we are. That, is definitely going to tone down the rate of mental health. Tell me often how sad you are. Let us listen to the sad men and you might find the composure you are looking for. They say dead men tell no tales,don’t be the dead man. Admit you are sad. SAD MEN TELL REAL TALES.