Saturday, 29 December 2012



  Trudging in the soft semi-dry sand on the lake shore was the down-cast figure of Krow as lifeless as the deserted beach. His hand deep in his pocket, the chilly wind blew the straw of hair on his head into his face, he did nothing to clear it of the locks in fact he seemed not to notice anything around him not even himself.
  Trailing behind him could be seen the footprints he’d made and each of them looked like they had a story of their own to tell, they were made by the weight of his body, they’d sank under the weight of his sorrow, the earth and the sand had parted to let him deposit some of his misery as he walked on- those were the scars of his life all coming undone piece by soft piece.
   He looked at the meandering grass that grew on blindly towards the water but could hardly make it due to the barren sand, he pitied the shrivelling grass. He pulled his jacket closer and trudged slowly on. The wind continued mourning around him his face down, his chin touching his collarbones Krow plodded on to nowhere.
    A tear crawled slowly unnoticed from the corner of his left eye, made a thin trail, stopped, hesitated, built up and succumbed to gravity and at the same time he stopped his eyes focusing on the ground below, the tear finally hit the ground unearthing some thing slightly which he saw.  He stooped and picked up the rusty piece of metal, blew away the sand and examined it, it was a tiny ancient necklace locket. He tried prying it open but the rust had spoilt its hinges and sort of glued it together such that it was impossible to open so he held it in  the fist of his hand and moved on.
    This was not the first time that Krow had come to the lake shore, he spent most of his days walking the length of the beach in a sombre mood and far at the end of this beach stood a lonely spot- a flat square concrete stone block just outside the water which had lapped at it through the ages and changes in tide giving it a jagged and rugged look. It was Krow’s favourite spot. He’d step on to it, stand rigidly still and gaze into the horizon for hours on end. Today wasn’t an exception only this time he had something else to stare at.
   He laid out his palm and stood on the Watchtower as he called the stone wondering at the locket whether it had a story and what its story was, at the same time figuring out the best way to open it curious at what he’d find inside of it. He tried to pry it open but failed again.
   He put it in his pocket and watched the sun set. Every day he came to the same spot with the locket in his pocket, he would extract it, look hard and then he started talking to it ‘ you know, i-I don’t know why I keep you, you piece a crap….’ ‘Whom did you belong to? I wonder…’ ‘Why did you end up here on the lonely beach …’ ‘why won’t you open damn it!’
   He’d joke, be serious, rant and rage at the locket and it patiently listened to him and for a long time Krow grew to like the locket more and more, his curiosity grew by bounds and one time he got so mad he hit the locket on the rock but still it would not open. He’d named it ‘tears’ because it had been discovered by his tear and for a long time this continued for Mr. Krow and his locket.
    The rust had slowly started to wear off and below it shone gold like in the sunset but Krow hardly noticed the change much, he was only glad he had a friend to share his loneliness with and pine into and slowly the locket transformed into the most beautiful gem ever beheld and finally Krow gradually noticed and became fascinated with the change.
   The day the last chip of rust fell off was an awesome day. Krow had gone to the watchtower as usual and sat down cross-legged on the stone momentarily drowning in the suns rays enjoying the lazy feeling it brought until it started to lose its warmth as it set then he removed the locket from its hiding place, the last chip of rust caught on the fabric of the cloth inside yanking almost free and thus loosened as he pulled the locket out of the pocket. Once outside it totally came off the locket and fell into the calm waters of the lake. As Krow looked at the locket he had the oddest feeling of peace and calm, he closed his eyes holding the locket between his index finger and the thumb.
   The feeling was so blissfully intense it distracted him and he did not notice the locket opening so that when he opened his eyes an amazing sight lay before him. He stared at it transfixed and could not move, every thing else seemed to fade away and it was just him and the locket, it was strangely familiar and so beautiful.
    In the locket he beheld an image and that image was smiling the happiest smile he’d ever seen, so genuinely happy it seemed then it hit him…
There was nothing in the locket except a tiny mirror and in the mirror what he saw wasn’t just an image, it was a reflection of his face and it was he who was smiling. The realisation seemed to knock the senses out of his body taking his breath away, his hands went numb and he dropped the locket into the water, he had a few seconds glance at it before it was swallowed by the wave disappearing forever but he did not care.
   Something inside of him had snapped at that moment it was like he was nolonger a prisoner of something, he’d been released, he was free at last, free from everything, tears had brought him freedom and he wanted to shout, dance and jump with joy, he felt like he could do anything and that is exactly what he did, he let out a whoop of joy, ran on the beach hardly leaving any prints in his wake, he did cartwheels, he spun around in circles his hands spread out, his head tilted up smiling so greatly he laughed like never before, shouted his voice hoarse, kicked the sand, tripped and fell down rolled in the sand got up and ran some more basically going wild with joy and as he trudged and disappeared into the horizon his figure looked so full of life his quest was no more at last he’d found the greatest quest of all, at last he was happy…



Once upon a time there was an ungrateful lion. This lion was so ungrateful that he depressed everything around him. He was ungrateful about his family, in fact he blamed them the most for committing the biggest crime- that of bringing him into the world a lion. It was their fault he was born and a lion at that, their fault he had the looks of a lion, their fault he had to act like a lion and take responsibilities the way lions did therefore he totally refused to do anything that any self respecting lion was entitled to or was known for.

He hated having to work for what to eat hated the world for being what it was and yet any sort of change that affected him worsened his liking so he spent most days cursing and blaming life along with everything in it. He hated everything that tried to identify with what he was and so he had very few friends if you could count zero, he was not even a friend to himself. Most of his young days as a cub were spent in idling, cursing and sulking at the world. He was truly an impossible cub, a headache and burden to his parents, siblings and the rest of the animals of the wild at large. He was bound for trouble every one agreed. He was fast cutting out a straight road to disaster and doom, he almost enjoyed it.

He was master at hunger strikes, disliked everyone and everyone in turn loathed him. He became a plague and everyone fought to avoid him and his foul attitude. He was the first to desert the den, barely old enough to fend for himself but all the others thought it was good riddance. He unbelievably also hated the fact that he was a powerful species among wild creatures and scowled at the fact other animals were in awe of his abilities, to him he had none and despised the lions way of life. He often got his food through cheating and bullying others. He especially envied the cheetahs because they were faster than him and thus he maliciously befriended them so that he could exploit their abilities. He also started associating with the hyenas and like them would spend the day waiting for captured prey and scavenging and as a result he became greedy like them hungry for anything that crossed his path regardless of whether he had need for it. He became fat and lazy due to lack of exercise.

He also sought the company of the leopards who no choices but tolerate him due to his status in the jungle. The leopards were carefree, agile and cunning, they did whatever they chose, broke most of the jungle laws. He copied this and became a very bad example to the royal blood. He despised himself the more he deviated. His arrogance got him into a lot of trouble in that he even started invading man’s territory making himself a total menace and idiot. He preyed on the forbidden animals-the domestic creatures because they were easy prey and he enjoyed the fact that he could get away with his sick games. He despised man who was his greatest enemy and threat hence he could not get enough tricks to play on him. He was very selfish during hard times when food was scarce. Due to his dirty tricks he always had what to eat mostly gotten through stealing and raiding man’s traps and his domestic animals or when the worst came to the worst – begging.

When the animals came to him, he laughed in their faces and gave a mighty roar – the only thing he was proud of – sending them scampering off. Such was the life of our ungrateful lion but his thieving was not long to be tolerated and soon his conniving friends the hyenas and leopards ignored to warn him of the trap that man had set for him. He got himself snared in a net and promptly caught. He got the beating of his life which left him with many broken bones and time in a cell in the zoo next to a cage of annoying monkeys and nagging cell mates. Ungrateful as usual he‘d not allow to be treated until he was too weak to resist. When he got better he was so mad at his cell mates and disliked the keeper the worst. He became angrier each passing day which turned into months and then a year and still he raged on.

He was given his own cell and fed the worst food; he lost a lot of weight and became the talk of the zoo ridiculed by mostly the monkeys who laughed at his stupidity. He abused himself by lying around dung, lied to his neighbors and cheated them out of food until none could trust him so he starved a lot. He realised his cunning wont get him anywhere so he settled for sulking. He became a most wretched creature- hated, lonely, bored, bad-tempered, despised and malnourished, what a great lion he’d turned into indeed!
The monkeys cheered his majesty in his great palace.

As time passed it started weighing on him how despicable he had become so he cleaned up, started treating the keeper with wary politeness, allowed to be petted a few times and purred to show he liked it. Due to this improvement he started getting better food; his neighbors detected a change when he no longer raged at them although he still sulked a great deal. An old lion laughed at him and made jokes to provoke him but he was ignored until he gave up and realised the young was almost broken. So it came to be that when the old lion talked he listened but rarely participated in the conversation but in his heart for the first time he was grateful others were not so afraid and hateful of him. He quietened and grew strong and healthy; he delighted in the peace and being left alone although he always missed the freedom of the wild. With time on his side, he thought of all the wrongs and bad behavior he had relished and was so ashamed of himself.

During the third year of his prison life he was released when the keeper realised that he was pining after the wild and then came the hardest part of his life. None was glad to see him back; even the cheetahs and hyenas sensed a change in his old bad self so they stayed away. But lion was so happy to be free he did not mind any kind of attitude towards him which was largely enemity. He had a tough time fighting off fellow male lions for territory but he had an advantage of being stronger and better fed than most of the others so he lost no time in making his presence felt.  However all the years of doing nothing had softened him, he knew no honest lifestyle, he almost failed to get a mate but luckily some misfit of a lioness felt pity for him and taught him the rules of life. He also had  developed a keen insight, its like he was seeing things for the first time. He became very interested in how easily most creatures fell prey to their predators.

Mostly he was interested in the prey itself which included gazelles, antelopes, impalas. He did desire them differently, he admired their grace and beauty and pitied them for being easy prey to the cheetahs and most animals. He also observed how cheetahs were fast in pursuing their prey but as soon as they got what they wanted from the fallen animal, they off chasing another leaving the rest to the vultures and hyenas. Then lion also noticed that the cheetahs somehow knew how the gazelles behaved especially in groups and hence lost no time singling out those of their choice immediately signing their death warrant.

Those that survived longer were the loners that kept away from the herd and these became game for our lion. He no longer wanted to be like the cheetahs that predicted their game and made short chase. They no longer valued the meat, just the chase because they knew the prey was available in plenty. He was ashamed of what he’d been, like a hyena he’d waited for fallen prey and realised there was no satisfaction or pride in that and like cheetahs he’d been a mere conqueror, had basked in his conquests and now he had no self-esteem. Therefore he completely changed his game. He sought out those unique, tactful and clever ones that would provide the greatest challenge. Sometimes he’d chase one for a whole day almost giving up to pick easy prey but he’d remember the effort he’d already put in. was it all for nothing? And right back to the chase he’d go.

Whenever he managed to capture his prey which wasn’t always, he’d make sure he treated the meat with the utmost respect it deserves, feed himself until it was all gone. It was all his not to be shared with the likes of the hyenas and due to this, nature started being good to him and he was well provided for. Other animals began respecting him and some took up his example therefore more prey was spared the humiliation of falling to the teeth of base creatures like the hyenas and vultures that also started working on getting themselves food instead of nsegarizing , they had now turned bitter enemies of  the lion. Consequently easy prey became hard to come by. At last the lion was no longer worthless, he’d done the wild a good turn and he lived to be remembered for many generations to come.



Peer pressure is more of a pull than a push a very gentle pull that takes you in bits and pieces and before you know it, it has all of you. It is like a gentle flood of water that comes sipping into your little cocoon of a house, you think its compact and locked up pretty good, it invades your safe haven and embraces you in your safety but you hardly notice it so slowly the water slips under your door, sweeping under the rugs and soon it takes over the whole floor – your base, takes over the place that had your stability and then this accomplished, it starts rising so calmly, so naturally such that  before you know it, you’re knee deep under it and that’s when you start feeling the pressure but of course, it is still minimal, it keeps rising till it’s waist high and that’s when the initial panic sets in. Frantically, you rush for the door, to escape or let it out.
At this point, it has become a deal because unnoticed; the water has actually gotten not only around you but to you and into you. Some have the strength to break free others not really, so some after the initial rush to the door manage to open it before it’s too late and escape it but for most, the door is the defining moment. Once you reach the door, hand on the door knob, you pause, look behind and that’s when it hits you that you might not exactly want to leave the room because it has gotten to you in a small way and somehow you realize that the feeling you gave you ain’t that bad after all. You think of the times before the invasion, you were really lonely, confused and boring and you realize that the water surrounding actually brings some great sense of comfort, at this point you wouldn’t mind, you think of the downside of opening that door, is it really the better choice, it might be sunny or it might be rainy outside, you shake your head, you are not willing to take that chance, you’re not willing to go back to that cold world, besides as you reach the door you feel the pressure, the magnetic force pulling you back now that it gas gotten a big part of you in its grip, its sunk its claw deep into your flesh, and tearing away is actually painful, so slowly you  let go of the door knob and slip back away from everything else and the things inside that room is all that matters, so you lose yourself among these things but before long, the water reaches chest high and suddenly you feel so crowded  and at this point, it stoops being such fun, everything and everyone is struggling to have the little that is left, you start regretting why you succumbed to the jury of your peers just when you had a chance to get it easily, you look to the door and now it is crowded with all those struggling to get out, the distance to the door now feels longer, the water got so absorbed into your body it weakened your system, you make a weak effort to try to escape only to be laughed at by those who gave up a long time ago, you totally have no support, you ignored the calls from  the outside to  get out while you can, you are scared of going outside anyway because you got used to the life of a water-filled room that has left you incapacitated, that’s when you actually feel the pressure everywhere, all around you and in your veins, you feel the hold it has on you, you never realized as one by one heavy blocks were placed on your shoulders, heavier and heavier, they grew as more got added on and in trying to hold yourself up, you never realized you were sinking under the pressure and soon you can hardly breathe, you are neck high under water and that’s when you start struggling trying to save yourself, but the pressure fights back sinking its claws deeper into your flesh, but this time you actually feel the pain, it’s brutal and it’s pulling you under, you are on pressure from all sides, even from inside you , the things you swallowed are extremely demanding too, you are backed into a corner and with one helpless gulp you sink under never to re-surface, your last thought that of utter loneliness and regret.
Having given up, helpless, feeling the life ebb out of you, you think of the wrong choices that led you to that point, it’s amazing how wonderful they looked at the time so with one last effort, you cry out to the Almighty, The One who hears and sees everything, so he heard you cry and never-failing, he swoops down, a powerful hand shoots down through the water and clutches your hand pulling you back to the surface and out of the water filled room into the sun and the wind away from the toxic clutches of the water panting and dripping wet but drying fast you are filled by an overwhelming sense of gratitude. You realize how lucky you are and there is no one who can understand the feeling of having been saved but he who saved you! Only then do you realize that you never want to be where you have been neither would you wish anyone to go where you have been, you dedicate your life to Him who saved you, the never-failing Him who delivers people like you, He who never gave up after all else failed but most of all, you never forget the power of peer pressure, never to be underestimated…


It’s a long way home, I have lost myself. This is the part when you wish your life was fiction. it was going so well but then you have to go mess it up, you run into the very things you were running away from, the very reason you left home in the first place, you want to be the horrible bad who meets a very deserved bad guy’s ending but then you are the hero of your life, you are the good guy who doesn’t deserve the good guys good ending, you try to say it but they think its part of the plot of your life until in the end you come to accept it, you have fooled even yourself so in the end you don’t know who you are but deep down you know that’s not you, at the back of  your mind there is that pestering reminder that this is not home because actually your heart is not there that’s why you keep messing things up and you keep asking why things are always going so wrong by you, you are running from yourself the whole of your life and you don’t even know it, you want to turn back, but you wont, you simply…cant!
It requires too much so you choose to get, rather be stuck on a long lonely, bleak and unpredictable road, you meet strangers on the way but really your focus is ahead trying to figure the end of the road and your mind is behind trying to remember the way back so that when the stranger leaves and another one comes along, you hardly notice, you are trapped inside yourself and do not want to come out because its lonely and scary and you are afraid that if you do, you will freak out and may be feel worse. It rains, it shines, it blows and still you trudge on, it’s the only security you have, the monotonous trudge but there is something to the trudge, you smell the sweet yellow and blue flowers by the roadside laden with memories of the innocent times of utter careless joy and mischief , there is music in the wind, it not only keeps you with the times, sometimes one strikes you as pleasantly familiar, a shadow of a smile creeps on your face and things are not so bad after all. Being the good guy is better than the horrible guy when you are by yourself and there is no audience to spoil everything with their expectations that you gave them in the first place and that they want to remain stuck to regardless of the fact that you are on a trudge which progresses. They want to idolize you and yet you are going to leave them behind, they don’t understand the trudge state of mind, you did not ask for them and neither did the trudge, it just came to be that all things considered your trudge came at crossroads and its no longer about the trudge but which trudge, all the time on the trudge spent in trying to steel yourself against this very thing just cant make up for the reality of the decision at hand and these voices in your head that it is too late to turn back now, you close your eyes as if that might merge the two trudges so you can be on your way and then it hits you that it’s the first time in a long, long time that you are at a standstill and suddenly it feels so good just to take a simple break to catch your breath, the two trudges become a blessing and the shadow blossoms into a real smile, you haven’t made it but that’s not the point, you probably will never really make it, what if you don’t? it doesn’t really matter at all, what matters is that you have made it to this point and you realize that no one told you to smile, it just happened, you decide to make this point your home. Home is not where you choose to go, home is where you’ve realised you have reached and you’re happy there and regardless of where you’ve been, you are not afraid to go there, you did not push yourself, that voice in the background, that best friend guided you home without showing off because that’s what best friends do-look out for you, guide you home, even when you were too pre-occupied with being mad at yourself for being so yourself…                  

Friday, 28 December 2012


Alone feeling left out, he sat down and wrote. Some people sing, others talk, pray or paint. He writes. He sat down and wrote his heart out, wrote about how misunderstood he is; wrote about his dreams and goals. He found a best friend in the pen in his hands because only then, only when he wrote did he feel understood fully. He poured all his sorrows and joys on those fine blank pages; smeared his pain all over, let the pain drain out through the ink bleeding onto the bright fresh pages. On these pages he picked and resolved all his fights; lived here ever so fiercely and expressed all the things he’d always left unsaid.
We all have our expressions but to me nothing empowers as deeply as him who writes. The beauty is in the creative process and the creation is just an added reward. There’s an artist in all of us. Whether we use gadgets as our form of expression- invent machines, paint; take photos or animate them with special effects; we are all drawn to an infinite need to express creatively.
Life is art not science …
Every chemical finds expression in its function, non living things are ARTificial for a reason, they were born out of a need to express. And here are my expressions …

Y’know some people never get the luxury to go back to their beginnings but I do every year. Some people just never realize when to stop! Just stop adding things. Getting more things is not the way to achieve fulfillment. I suggest you streamline what you have; let it blossom for you. Some people never realize they have everything they ever wanted. Truth is, no matter what you get, it may never be enough. You’re always worried about ensuring you never lose what you got and you think the solution is to heap on more stuff.
Being back home I got a chance to observe my lil cousin sister. She is so happy watching boring telenovelas on local TV stations and I can’t imagine ever having been thrilled by local TV programs which obviously every one in my generation did. I cant recall having the simple pleasure of  watching just TV. Now I need a TV, digital TV decoder, laptop, home-theatre with surround sound, laptop, internet, smart mobile phone, video calls et al to achieve the same thrill as my lil cousin. Even then, upgrades, upgrades is the name of the game. We are drowning in this stuff and I miss how simple life used to be when my only entertainment was the family TV. I miss how personal relationships used to be. Being home reminds me of the simplicity of it all.
chilling in the stillness
 I would love for my kids to have a starting point like this so that even if they fell this far, there would be so much beauty in starting over; in being back at your starting point, in not fearing to take the fall because it’s well where you have been.

Has anyone ever contemplated the term ‘STILL’?

There’s a total standpoint to it, a perfect pause; a total lack of action and yet …

A resounding unendingness to it  like … like something unresolved; like its never over; like a pattern of continuity that you can’t quite place your fingers on, a hope for something more, a reassurance of eternal presence …
Am come to that point; am at still. My mastermind is smiling. It feels great to meet still and its revelations.

 It grows darker and I must move on because it’s not good to stay still for too long or it might lose its magic and trap you on its forever paused side.
 There really are two sides to everything.
Even in the stillness there’s a playlist in my head. Even when I don’t have headphones on I can hear it. There’s more than one purpose to everything living. Take senses for example; they are gathering memories and here I thought there's only one way to do that. My memories are gathered and stored in my senses , sights I see, sounds I hear, smells and things I touch remind me of a time when some things meant so much or meant so little. It’s amazing that even blind men have memories of things colorful. 
something beautiful
‘I remember …” is the most powerful tool of exulting our aliveness. It means I have been here before and I still am.
This is a dedication to the things that influence us without our knowledge because today I am proud of whatever and whoever made me by acknowledging am proud of me. Cheers to that and to those who appreciate what am talking about.
For a while it didn't matter if I was out of touch. Its good to get away from it all for a lil while and get some perspective. Right now I see things clear.
We keep some friends in our lives for a reason and to those that aren’t in our lives anymore, look at it this way... what never made it in the journals is the biggest and best part we ever experienced.
Epic stories are not written on pages, they are written in the hearts of those whose lives we touched. 
I never set out to be a great athlete, I just did what I loved and at a certain point you get driven by who you meet; you meet people who get convinced that you have it in you to be a champion so for a while you feed off someone’s purpose for you and you accomplish his goals and dreams. It doesn't change the fact that you just wanted to do what you love in the first instance. So cheers to those who pushed you to greater heights; you made their dreams come true. He can go tell an epic story about you now.
Love doesn’t conquer all, it has always been in us, love just provided the means. Let love go tell an epic story about us. What is important is that we lived it. We made it happen. We inspired something beautiful. We made it a reason for there to be a reason. Every human is an epic story.
And with that I come to the end of my moment in the stillness …


During the holidays I always go back to the basics and this time I chose to do it with a pot of Malos. These heights from the local beer are quite the stuff of legend. The euphoria they bring with a taste of things past and how they slide over you; enveloping you in a magical haze of quiet contentedness was very refreshing and calming.
 No matter how far you fly somehow you always need to get back to the basics. Every year I get a fresh start; this is me hitting my restart button or should I say refresh; from here I get to launch into a space unmarred by my past and the only non-blank spot is my mind filled with memories of  my starting point. Here I find my compass and direction and like a master painter with bold strokes I use my memories to forge a new path using the old to create the new. I always find a plan knowing that without fail the master lifesmith will create the obstacles necessary for the story to be interesting in order for my plan to be a success story because like every great artist the challenge is in the journey not the creative process.
I think even God didn’t wanna spoil the surprise of envisioning what his creation will do and he gave them freewill which at one point may run crazily out of control that’s when he comes in and puts it back to a manageable track. If he ever envisioned how wide our imagination and creativity could go I think he would have gotten rid of the idea of free will or maybe he’s such a strong guy; he chose to risk it and let us surprise him. But how did we keep up with the link to him in the first place because we had the potential to stray so far away from him. How did we ever get to a point when we realized we needed a higher power to stay in charge?? How did we get so beautiful yet so utterly disgusting? How does such a good thing cross a line so dangerous and why do good things get so bad? Why are we ever fighting to break free of our moral constraints and why do they feel like constraints when they are apparently inherently good for us. And if we have so called free will isn’t these moral constraints part of the problem, hindering our inherent nature to be free to do whatever; was that God’s clever plan to keep us in check while keeping up the illusion that we are in fact free? Do we get punished for exercising our free will or only when the exercising of that free will hinders the expression of the free will of others? How far can our free will really stray? There is a leash, the trouble is in deciding if that leash is good for us or not. I look at the dogs on a leash and we know it’s for their protection but then if a dog truly loved his master, he would stay close without the requirement of a leash and he would probably know better but since our crime is that we don’t know better hence the need for a leash right?? Well on the bright side not really knowing better is the fun part. Let the almighty worry about our safety, we were born to experience life not discern its complexities; so enjoy the simplicity of being a mortal pips.
The problem with free will is that we are forever testing how far we can stretch it, when do we ever settle for what works for us? I know that probably somebody somewhere out there pities me for my principles and someone else admires them? Every time someone compliments me on how good I am, I am only reminded of how much more wanting I feel or of everything that makes me imperfect.
Some people are more for a particular stance. Am not one of those people. My stance is way more complicated but why do I feel like am wrong for being like this? But what makes the rest of us right for being different from my non-stance? For instance I don’t like something but don’t mind it either, that doesn’t bother me. How do I choose a side which I don’t have?  I might be standing on the sidewalk not sure if it’s my place or a temporary position. I feel everything infinitely deeper but outstandingly vaguer because I find no meaning and no answers. My definition is not a swimmer or a writer or a teacher; I could be a lover but does it count? I have an infinite ear for music even that frowned upon by a different me trying to be like a conformer.
I just lost track of my thoughts …

Sunday, 27 May 2012


If my life was a movie this would be the part where I scream “SOMEBODY SAVE MEEEEEEE!!!” #Smallville #TheLionKing
I opened my eyes to the glaring light full in my face streaming in through the huge window to my bedroom/sanctuary/den and for the first time I hated the position and size of this window. Why the heck did I choose to face my bed right at the damn window?
I rolled over and stayed awake only long enough to check the time on my watch interface. It read ‘10:20’
“crap” I thought.
My mind registered that it was a Sunday and there was a whole bunch of people at church (where I am supposed to be at this moment) I was already disappointing because I was definitely not gonna be able to show up not to mention the big man upstairs who’s probably had it with me. I reached for my mobile phone and found a missed call from my sister which I ignored and went straight to my mobile browser.
Facebook update: “something has gotta give” close and throw away the phone and back to sleep.
Fast forward 2 hours later and I am woken up by the sound of my phone ringing. I grab it and pick the call without bothering to look at the caller ID. I put the phone on my ear not even bothering to speak, too lazy to take the effort to open my eyes
“How are you” voice that sounded vaguely like my sister’s
“I am so hung over” replied some hoarse, croaky, deep voice that must have come from me
“When will you take charge of your life you unserious boy” definitely the voice of my annoying sister
I decided to assume that was a rhetoric question and didn’t even bother to grace it with an answer
“anyways …” she continued “I need to borrow your blah blah blah …”
My mind seems to have a bu nch of words that switch it off and ‘borrow’ is one of them so right on cue it went for a walk. I managed to catch something along the lines of her need to use my backpack for certain duration and I must have murmured in the affirmative just to get rid of her coz she hung up without further verbage (LOL)
Close my eyes again and pretend I didn’t notice its 2 hours later. Something about the conversation with my sister sort of registered in my head however and of course it had to be about time. Being a swimmer I am one of those people obsessed with time because the difference between success and failure is usually a matter of micro seconds. (I prefer to call myself ‘time conscious’) my body alarm clock first started by hinting to my brain that lunch time on Sunday is at 1.30pm (about an hour away) and then all sorts of bells started going off in my head; ‘shower time!’ ‘toilet-visit time!’ ‘dude you were supposed to be up by 8am time!’ ‘seriously dude GET UP!’
“OKAY, OKAY” I answered just to shut them up.
I stirred and tried to get up and gave up even before I was half way through that process. I threw the covers back off myself and turned a full 180 degrees so I can get the light out of my face by facing the opposite direction and caressed the bed sheets thinking “oh what a soft bunch of material …”
Somewhere my phone started ringing again.
“Come on! Its Sunday for crying out loud!”
I located the wretched phone and looked at the caller ID with the intention of switching it off. It read ‘Samantha’ change of mind
Hmmm interesting! She never calls me. I clear my voice and test it with a hello before picking up the call but all that comes out is a sleepy hoarse whispery sound
“Damn” oh well I answer the phone “hello” I whisper
“Nothing” I check my phone again and it shows the phone is still in call
“hello” I say again and I hear the unmistakable sound of the call droping
“Damn” sometimes I hate the stupid network. It tends to fail to get service all the time plus I like Samantha and getting a call from her is always cheering so am understandably mad at my phone for screwing up her call. So I sit up to redial the number
That’s when I get hit by massive pounding in my temple. It feels like my head has  just been slammed  against the wall. I am too dazed to for speech. The only thing I am aware of is the incessant and all consuming pounding that keeps throbbing inside my skull. I instinctively grab my head hopping that would stop it while realizing at the same time how futile that is so I decide to ignore and focus calling Samantha again. She was at church and hoped she would see me.
“I didn’t go to church today. What are you doing afterwards? Are you heading Home or your place?” I inquired all at once. No answer …
“hello?” I say louder in the headset and put it on loudspeaker because I can’t hear her clearly
The phone battery dies
‘grrrr idiot! Stupid phone’ I mutter and look for the charger and don’t bother to retry calling Sam back. I remember I had promised Christine she would see me at church today. Gosh why the heck do I do this to people who trust me?
I send a quick apologetic text message about me being unwell thinkin “dude, you are smashed and paying for last night idiot and it’s your damn fault” but I guess it’s not completely untrue that I said I was unwell. Technically hung over falls under ‘unwell’ I mean have you felt the intensity of the pounding in my head. Mental note never to take more than 2 shots of Gilbey’s cocktail
I slump back onto my bed in an attempt to catch that blissful slumber one more time but it’s not to be. My housemate pounds on my door calling my name but to me it sounds like she’s yelling. I ignore it for a couple of seconds which felt like minutes hoping she would go away. She doesn’t.
I relent and answer ‘yeeeessssss!!!’
She wants to borrow (what’s with people borrowing today) something that necessitates me getting up and disconnecting stuff. I consider being mean and decide to go along with it.
I answer “I am using IT’
“you have two” she retorts and she’s right. I have two power extensions and I was only using one at the moment.
“Damn” I mutter under my breath and grudgingly get up, grab the extension and stagger out of my room sulking and cursing my brother for inviting me to that crazy birthday party for his even crazier girlfriend and her gang of insane hot chics. I start having recollections of last night. Every one of the images that pops up involves me and a skimpy chic in high heeled shoes and very short dress backing it and rubadabing me.
I force myself not to think any further and drop the extension to Tini and Rhoda my other housemate who asks
“What time did you get home?”
“I don’t know”
I actually try to think about it and I have no idea how and when I got home. I can’t remember the last time I got that sloshed and I start telling myself ‘this has seriously got to stop’ as I drag myself to the bathroom. Lord knows if I had a dollar for the number of times I’ve said to myself “it has got to stop!”
In the bathroom I quickly try to rinse the bitter taste from my mouth “why does the sweet punch have such a bitter after taste” I whine to myself “bloody cocktails”
I dash some cold water into my face at the sink and look at my reflection in the mirror.
HORRIFIC!! Is that mee???
My eyes are so red I can’t believe I can actually see with them, my face is oily and puffy and my expression shocked. God forbid Jaz ever sees me like this. She will definitely dumb my sorry ass and with good reason. It must be a crime walking around looking this messed up. I jump into the showers and turn on the water. I get pincers and daggers of cold water to my skin and I cringe but the momentary torture turns into utter bliss when that feeling of relief washes over me from head to toe as the water runs over me. I close my eyes and savor the moment thinking this is why God created showers.
I dry myself off and once back in my room I look at my room like I was seeing it for the first time. Unlaid bed, clothes, shoes and socks scattered everywhere. I take stock of my situation, stomach growling, so much cleaning to do and I am not touching any of it. I grab the trousers from last night and with relief find forty thousand in my pockets along with scrawny piece of paper with a number written on it along with a name which simply read ‘Berna’
I grab my phone and go through the dialed numbers and sure enough I find Berna along with a couple of unidentified numbers. I sit down on my bed and go through the morning after drill
Rule number 1: No hanging out with my bro
Rule Number 2: No drinking Gilbey’s Cocktail
Rule Number 3: Ah this sucks …
Just another weekend in the life of C-rad. I start getting dressed.

Saturday, 10 March 2012


I feel like nothing good has come out of today. I feel like I just did what I had to do. I feel no satisfaction in having lived today, I feel like today I have succumbed to the overwhelming force of pessimism that’s so apparent in life lately, I know there are a few good bits to this day that I should probably focus on to get by but for no clear reason I am just in no mood to pep talk myself and feed myself a load of crap like everything is alright and yet it isn’t because if it was then it would feel so.
I probably didn’t realize it but am demoralized with life today. I am not a loser but today I sort of feel like one, maybe I am just bone tired and weary from the long day at the pool. I could simply tell myself that. Its probably true too but what if it is much more than that! It feels much more. Walking on Buganda Road from wandegz I was suddenly hit by a strong wave of loneliness, my wellbeing reflexes immediately kicked in and countered this negative feeling but not fast enough to block the signals to my head that made me consciously aware of this sense of loneliness starting a war of thoughts in the form of questioning myself. ‘Gosh am a miserable wreck! There’s just u and only you’ said left thought, ‘no you are not. Come on you got lots of great friends who care about you’ retaliated right thought ‘well where are they now you poor loser’ , ‘well you can’t have them all the time you know’ defended right thought ‘will you both shut up!’ I ordered and changed the topic
“ okay, now what am I goin to do when I get home?’ I wondered. Watch a series maybe? But am too tired for that … I should be writing, I owe my journal an update about last month. I consulted memory about last month and the records were so demoralizing that they invited left thought to make an opinion “ see! I told you dude your life sucks! Take today, you woke up at 7.30am on a Saturday morning to get ready for a bloody long draining gala! Who does that? Mind you your legs are still hurting from that stupid sprinting you did yesterday. I thought we agreed that you are a swimmer not a bloody track runner” what the heck are you even doing? You do realize you are going to spend the whole day on your feet and do more work than you do during the week in a single day ON A WEEKEND! Theres a reason its called weekend!
Right thought came to the rescue “take a chill pill man. A dude is gotta make a living” “what living! Seems to me it’s more like a death chase. Dude is not even being paid for all those extra hours, not even facilitated to power through all that  noise and confusion and still be expected to keep a smile on his face every minute of it” “ ahh that’s nothing, he doesn’t mind it because it’s what he does best and it’s fulfilling knowing that he has been there when he is needed”  I noticed this banter between right and left thought was making me unsure and I felt that right thought has a weak argument which is not at all convincing. Left thought seemed to pick up on this further fueling up his opinion now directed straight at me. “ now seriously dude,” he said … “ what the heck are you doing waking up a day where the first thing you hear is that kid who is vying to upstage your butterfly reign that he made 28.87 in Nairobi! That is a few micro seconds ahead of your national record time and it just may be official” the one thing that you had an upper hand in is seriously being contended with. Okay I take you haven’t been working out for the last month because of all the engagements that come with life at this point but dude man you should be worried. I feel you are gon get our ass kicked at this rate so if I were you I would be dreading the next time you get to swim with that kid in the same race because it just may be your final downfall”
At this point I am feeling so forlorn am not even trying to put up a defense against this bombardment from my out of control thoughts. So I appealed to right thought “ dude you gotta do something fast”
“so lovely loyal true to myself right thought brought to mind distracting thoughts like this generation and the next generation.  I started to think of where I fall. If this kid upstaging me is of the next generation I guess I have finally reached this generation, I am of this generation and this generation is what’s up right now, which means it’s our time (Scratch that) MY time now. It’s now or never, no more waiting to get to that point where I can coz an impact; this is the time for me to do it. I am in the now of my time, ahead won’t matter if I don’t make use of now because as left thought already said Next generation is already lining up for its time which means I am running out of time! How huge this is! It not my father’s time anymore, it’s my time. I wonder how many people my age realize this. I am proud of that kid, he has gotten to the point where I started much earlier than I did because everyday life speeds up a little more, more fast paced than it was yesterday, every achievement is made a mile earlier than we did. Am not on the block anymore, I run the block, I have been running it since ’07 he won’t be so lucky his time at this pace. He would be lucky to last 2 years on the block. I am not mad at life for being this way, I am mad at me for being this way! For letting me forget who I am and what I stand for so I thought back to this morning, to clasping that kid’s hand and congratulating him without even contemplating or fully understanding what it was he had just told me, what it really meant. The end is not so far for me now (LOL that sounds ominous) but at the end is the beginning of something new, something worth my time but until then, he still has to contend with the unsurrendering will and unbreakable spirit that’s CG, some people were born to fight to the bitter end and if I am to go down, I go down with honor so no its not gon be TV I come home to, it’s gon be this and a quiet reflective time with myself that I  bask in because such is the soul that rejuvenates my spirit. It was good to have been alive today. Tomorrow is another day of Conrad awesomeness J

Tuesday, 28 February 2012


Time is passing fast and I lose myself in life
Wonder what happened to speed it up
One moment can’t wait to fill the other
So much to do, so many people to see
And yet somehow
It always seems too late
For one thing if not the other
But yet still
Am afraid I might lose myself
Trying to keep track of time
What’s the lesser evil?
Once we had the time of our lives
Where did it all go?
Who did we become?
Did we change or did the times change?
And what’s worse
Is that it’s beyond my control
Even when I would like to
I can’t blame this one on me
Relentless time will not stop just because I am grieving
It will walk on by through the good and bad
Maliciously fast forward past the part when there’s an actual smile on my face
To crawl with the trudge of my miserable days
And here I am struggling to keep up

Thursday, 23 February 2012



A few years ago I wrote about a visit by an Angel. This morning I feel like I got visited by an angel for real. Her name is Christine. The prose piece “ Angel Eyes” was largely based on a very vivid dream and today feels like I just woke up from a similar dream only that this time it wasn’t a dream. There actually is a gal called Christine and she was here in my room until late last night. Her presence still fills the room. I am trying to make sense of the whole experience with her; was it all real or do I just have a beautiful mind?
Nope! It’s all real as confirmed by a text from her as I write this.
The first thing that strikes one the first time you meet her is this great feeling of cheerfulness that she evokes around everything about her. In the way she says Hi to you like you are the most exciting person in the world, then you look into her beautiful bright blue eyes and you cant help but get drawn to the genuineness in those kind eyes and that’s even before she’s spoken anything to you beyond that Hi. She’s got one of the most genuinely attractive personalities I have ever experienced. Only the most hard-hearted can fail to fall in love with her charm.
This whole week has been generally about her. She stepped into my life and in a few days she has touched several bits of which I am that I am at a loss of what to really say of what she has done for me. It’s been inspiring spending time with her so am just gonna go ahead and just describe my time with her.
Christine has this amazing ability of simply popping up unexpectedly out of nowhere or so it seems. She is such a pleasant surprise every time she makes an appearance.
Our story starts a while back about a year and a half ago when she volunteered at ISU for a few days or is it a week, I don’t really remember. I don’t remember when it was but I remember how I met her.
I was on my usual business at the pool and at the time I think I’d just gotten fully employed at ISU. It was at the pool that I first noticed her. She was in the pool doing laps and my initial thought was that she is one of the high school girls so I immediately dismissed her from my mind. Anyways I knew most of the High-schoolers who occasionally popped by the pool for a short dip. It’s always unserious and lazy splashing around and more basking in the sun. This girl was different. She was doing laps like she meant business which intrigued me as a coach. I am of course interested in people who take swimming seriously so I made it a point to talk to her about joining the school team. She has a really great freestyle stroke.
Anyways later after school practice she was still in the pool doing laps as I got ready to do some practice of my own. She stopped long enough to meet me and that’s when I got hit by a ton of Christine Elsasomeness. I liked her immediately. That smile and bubbly high-pitched American voice totally turned my day around. I asked if I could join her work-out and was like ‘’sure’’ we went ahead to start a little chit chat; the usual normal stuff you say to someone you just met. She got to know about my National swimmer status and I got to know about her Love for Christ status in fact one of the first things she tells anyone the minute you speak to her is this love for JC which I found amazing and intimidating especially if you are a guy interested in a girl and suddenly you realize you have to contend and compete with the big man upstairs (Man??) himself for her affection
Either you back-off humbly or you stick around to discover just how awesome she truly is. I love to get to know people and of course I’d choose the latter anytime. After telling me about her love for JC and what she is doing around ISU she asked me if I was born-again. I said yes and she went ahead to ask me how I became born again. I must say that was the most distracted freestyle kicking session I have ever had. I mean here I was an unserious Christian trying to “impress” a girl I just met by telling her about how I was born-again! “Conrad what you doin?”
That was definitely not how I usually bonded with people I have just met but she made it so cool and for some reason I had no problem telling her about that part of myself especially since she’d immediately opened up to me about herself a little too. I was impressed by the work she is doing and her reasons for being in Africa. At the same time I thought she is not my type of girl. This girl is on a whole new ‘nother level. Basically I got that age-old guys feeling that signals when you meet a gal that is way out of your league.
Anyways after our interesting chatty work-out I asked if she was on facebook. She said No. her reasons being that she tries to avoid things that are addictive in nature. “Bummer I thought” coz I did want to check out a bit more of her background and interests. Something that facebook has introduced to we lucky people of the twenty-first century. I had to settle for an email address which she wrote down for me telling she was heading out of Uganda to do God’s calling in rural Mozambique. I promised to keep in touch and wished her luck. I did save her email address and sent her some mail to acknowledge that I had added her to my contacts. I got a reply a few weeks later then promptly partially forgot all about her.
That was almost a year and a half ago.
2 weeks ago she returned and reappeared to me as suddenly as the first time. I was in the gym waiting for my Kindergarten class and next thing I know is am staring at this gorgeous creature ushering the kids down the steps of the sports hall. My mind was probably slow in processing her appearance because I mistook her for another blond curly haired person; a parent who occasionally volunteered at the school with the EC2 kids. I was busy setting up for the next class when she showed up so I temporarily dismissed her until I had finished setting up. However it so happened that we were going to have our class outside the gym so after getting the kids down the steps I had to redirect them back up at the other end of the gym nearest the bathrooms to the grassy shaded area.
It’s only when I finally came out into the sun that I finally recognized who she really is and memory of her flooded back to my mind. It was her alright, as beautiful as ever. My day instantly transformed from the usual routine to an exciting even more fun-filled lesson. I hugged her hello. It was nice to see her again despite our long out of contact. I felt momentarily guilty of for not keeping in touch. She loves swimming so later that day I found her at the pool again.
Fast forward to the end of that week and we had reacquainted due to her regular presence at the pool. I still wasn’t sure what to make of her, she is a nice person and I didn’t know if I really wanted to get to know her more; I just found her interesting and I just kept finding her everywhere I was.
I must say last week was probably the toughest week of my month and the last thing I was wanted was a Christine Elsas. I had a serious deadline to meet with my online course; in fact all week it was the one thing I kept worrying about so I could not afford a lot of time to accommodate a great cheerful girl with all the things I had on my to do list. I had work, study, dance practice and the junior school inter-house swimming gala plus a friend to help out who was in need of my writing skills to draft an official apology letter.
Despite all this Christine still managed to engage me in short chats during my after school activities. So on Thursday after the swimming gala which was a lot of work but went well, everybody was in a relaxed mood and I just wanted to kick back and watch the kids enjoy free time in the pool. Christine was in the deep end doing width and somehow I thought- what the heck- and decided I should join her since I hadn’t had a chance to all week so I did. It felt so good since it was the first time all week I was able to relax and enjoy her company. I gave her a few tips on her butterfly stroke. It was a welcome distraction from all the duties.
I must say Christine arrived at a time when I was getting very acquainted to another great gal at school. Elspeth is one of the nicest friends I have at school and of late she’d been able to accommodate me more than usual especially over Sundays. Last week we were supposed to hang out with Smiley after church and I was so looking forward to that. So when on Friday morning Christine agreed to attend church with me and my friends I was very thrilled after all the more the merrier. In one day I was to have the company of 3 great gals. Unfortunately Smiley’s plans changed and Elspeth wasn’t able to make it to church which left me with Christine but when I got to church I couldn’t see her anywhere around so our get-together failed miserably and I was greatly disappointed.
However I had dance practice that night at the National Theatre and Christine had mentioned that she’d be there too for Salsa. What a nice coincidence! I hoped she would be there. She was!! I was delighted to find her among several people who seemed to know her from the last time she had been in Uganda. I promised to join her after my dance practice.
I had so much fun that Sunday night that all the disappointment I had had in the morning seemed not to matter anymore. Dancing with her made all the reservations I’d had about her start falling away chip by chip; I started to feel this deep connection as we swung to latino beats. We swung our hips, spun and danced unreservedly and laughed wholeheartedly. I felt touched by the goodness in her heart, I felt accepted and appreciated by her, I felt that the boundary that had separated us; my unworthiness and her purity- it connected and I got this deep revelation that we were different people on the same side for Jesus. Regardless of who we really are as individuals, I felt that just like her I am a child of God loved and accepted in a way that I have never been fully aware of. With her the presence of Jesus I felt. She is human just like me, can dance and appreciate all the little pleasures in life and still not be affected greatly by them because of the strength of her spirit. For the first time I held her in my arms as we danced and smiled because I felt comfortable doing that. It was okay to be close to her. I didn’t have to be afraid of what I might do to her or what she might do to me. I could relax and simply enjoy her company. And I did. I’d just made a beautiful friend for life. I know that people like her do not often come into my life. She is one of a kind and that’s what me want to cherish her more because for a change I’d just added someone that I needed to have in my life, somebody who sees the imperfections in me and still accepts them without judgment, embraces them and understands despite her standards. Somebody who chooses to see the best in people. I no longer felt intimidated by her, I felt safe and I could trust her. The more interaction I had with her the more I realized that only goodness can come out of such as her. I wanted to hold on to her and never let her go because she is indeed somebody I needed in my life. The more I found out about her the more I like her.
We did have quite a lot in common which at first I thought was not possible. Being with her just kept showing me how unserious I was in my Christ-like life compared to her not that I was trying to compare myself, I just couldn’t help noticing and this noticing was more inspiring than it was beating myself up. I just thought how I wanna be an example to the world about the beauty of Christ and what it really means to follow him. At a certain point I let her know of this; that I too want my life to be a living testimony of his grace and goodness just like hers was; I kept asking myself how did she do it, where does she get the strength and conviction to lead the kind of lifestyle she has. Little did I know that over the next 2 days I was about to find out.
Over the next 2 days I got to text chat with her; take walks hand in hand or with my arms wrapped around her shoulders and hers around my waist, skype, tell of each other’s plans, swim- I loved sinking to the bottom of the pool and watch her smile at me through the absolute silence of the deep and her curly hair floating all around her; meet and watch her interact with people; lose things, find things, share chores, take hot chocolate, lie together, hold and hug each other, kiss and caress her on the cheeks, touch her, feel her curly hair in my face, smell her, take a bodaboda rides late in the night, talk for hours on end, listen to some jazz music, read together, eat together, do shopping, take pictures, cross busy streets, have her wear my jumper, look at stars, gaze into her eyes as she gazed into mine, feel her heartbeat on my chest, I got to fall asleep to the sight of a text message from her late in the night, listen to her encourage me or hold discussions on what it means to be a man and the role of a woman in the household, contemplate our lives and what we are, what this means, what we are doing and how do we go on from here. She told me about the most special boy to ever get close to her and I told her about Jasmina, the gal of my dreams, we talked about our fears- what are we afraid of, we talked of childhood memories, I was complimented for pushing her to do something she was reluctant to do, she rode my high-seat bike from Watoto church to my flat and there I was shouting encouragement behind her as I ran to keep up with her much to the amusement of the people walking on the road and she pushed me to do something am usually shy to do and that’s pray with someone.
Amidst all this was the strong presence of our Lord and protector, I shared with her a lot of things that I rarely share with people that I have known for a long time even, I felt I didn’t need to hide myself from her or keep things from her, I didn’t want to have unanswered questions between us. I just wanted to give her me, the real me. I admit I did feel like doing something I shouldn’t at certain points of our nights together. I wanted so badly to take her in my arms and kiss her passionately, unreservedly with all of me but I didn’t because I knew it was not my place to do that and I respected who she is and I didn’t even know if I wanted to cross that line. Something told me that I might regret doing that and for the first time in my life I listened to that small voice of reason and went against everything that my body was screaming at me to do; To release the struggling male animal in me and claim this amazing vulnerable beautiful creature in my territory.
The most surprising thing about the last few days was that nothing was premeditated, everything just seemed to fall into place on its own and that’s what made it even harder because I didn’t feel like I was in control of the situation, I admire her strength to not encourage me to do anything I might regret, this strength and character is what kept me in check and I am thankful for that. I was able to maintain reason.
The things that I like about her is the way she made me think about things that I normally don’t contemplate; she does ask a lot of questions, big questions- she asked me what are my top five most important qualities I like in people and I gave her six; on skype I quickly realized that she has a quick wit and eagerness in her responses that I had which made it hard to sign off for dance practice which I was late for; during texting I could not stop myself from replying her texts and I liked the fact that she made me smile non-stop even when I wasn’t in her presence; I liked that she agreed to spend so much of her time this week with me and the fact that she didn’t mind hanging with me until late into the night; I like that she loves swimming like me and that she is very sports like in nature; she likes challenges just like me. She actually dared me to do something serious and scary and that I don’t know I can really accomplish but I said yes to her challenge because it could be the best thing in my life. I admire her strength to step into the unknown situations, her love for people; she greeted everybody she noticed the entire time I was with her, she volunteered to help out with doing my dishes the moment she stepped into my place, how many girls are that nice, my housemates were impressed, I liked that she seemed to know a lot of people I know, she is ready to help out wherever possible, she bought the shopping we had lost that day in the taxi which she really didn’t have to do and that touched my heart. I love her love for children and I totally admire the work she is doing.
She told me about her life in Mozambique and in the States and the not so nice situations in her family, her struggle for forgiveness and how awesome it felt to forgive her mom. She is sweet and honest and strong and even when she is weak she tries really hard to overcome it. I like the way she admits that she too has weaknesses even though when u look at her all you can see is perfectness. I just kept wondering how someone so young can be so affecting.  She has the power to change the world, she has the faith that can move mountains, heal the sick and raise the dead. I was awed by her tales of the miracles she has been a part of. Through her the power of Jesus that made deaf and dumb people hear and speak and the blind person see. She is extreme, overwhelming and intense but at the same time she has this simple girl who could be just anyone aura about her which is so adorable and charming and it was amazing to experience while I was with her. I can’t stop thinking of her right now and I don’t realize it but she has probably changed my life.
I believe she is an angel from God sent to me for my sake. She is leaving for the States this weekend and I am going to miss her and I sure hope that one day I will meet her again.
Thank you Lord for Christine Elsas. A true angel, friend and inspiration, may you fill her with boundless blessings and may I never forget who she is and what she represents … you.

I saw you Lord when I looked into her eyes J

Friday, 27 January 2012


Tap … tap … taap
The little ball hits the wall again and again and bounces back into his awaiting hand
His body is in auto drive, his mind is elsewhere, the ball just seems to fall into place and just as suddenly is cast away towards the wall idly. The only thing he is conscious of is the effort its taking him not to scream. He is like the street beggar on the corner with her arm out-stretched crying out for a coin, he passes her every day. He has blocked her voice out with the earphones plugged into his ears but still it echoes throughout his system as he strides past her. It’s like that hunger to have something … anything is eating away at him too.
He can feel the sound of the taxi tout calling out for passengers; the persistence in his voice is like a deep knife wound in his back being twisted again and again, it sends waves and waves of will power jolting him into more desperate pleading. Mixed with this is the loud voice of the street preacher calling out so passionately to the people trying even harder to ignore him. A few wave and smile at him and the huge smile of gratitude on his face for being acknowledged is almost too hard to bear. His eyes shine with a fire that finds expression in the vigorous wave of his worn out scorched Bible. His voice is hoarse from the strenuous shouting and still he passes by just seeing the movement of the preacher’s mouth and only hearing the music of his soul. There is a hunger to be accepted, to be acknowledged … to pass on to. 

There a hunger in the whirlwind of buttons being punched on this computer trying to capture it as fast as it’s flowing. Something so untouched in the music flowing from his soul at the images flashing through his head; there’s a strength in every fly pull he catches underneath the waves of the pool plunging forward, to most it’s a blur but to him he can feel every little bit of the strength its taking him to go on, in every first step he takes to get his weary body out of bed to the life that just won’t quit, the life that keeps calling even when he’s had it, in every teary drop he catches on his shoulders from those in a moment of weakness and self pity, there is a passion to make it but it just is not happening, in the struggle to feel like life is finally giving you a lucky break, in the strength to go through another day without that person who makes his heart come alive; the will to hold on just a little longer, to never give up, even in the deepest disappointment, that moment when someone you trust with all your life lets you down in the smallest way but it feels like the worst way ever.

It might be joy or sorrow, pain or pleasure, pride or disappointment, loud or calm, a storm or a fire, whatever it is it just takes you over and there you stand paralyzed in its fiend grip, whether you wish it to let you go or hold on just a little longer, it’s never up to you it’s just something you didn’t see coming and you are powerless in its grip
Even the best of us fall under the paralyzing power of passion. Run or hide, it will find you and when it does, pray it leaves you still alive … you won’t be the same.

This endless loop of sounds, feelings, scents, pictures and tastes reflected in the continuous tapping of the ball against the wall. tap tap tap .. and then, not even consciously when he just uses that little bit more strength or his arm was too heavy to lift up fast enough for a moment the ball doesn't return to the hand ... the little shock makes him shake his head quickly and clear his vision as he turns around to look for it …