Last night when Zo started kicking, I just started laughing. And loudly. But when he sat on me, I drew the line; he had crossed the big boundary. I held him by one leg and transported him to his room.
Then of course I realised I was in his room all along. So I put him down and started staring at the ceiling. Now I understand why they tell you to look at the bright side of life. I was looking at the dark and could see nothing. Just blackness. And black is not a colour, its nothing. I think it’s the new heavy curtains, the darkness.
The silence tonight is suspect. No dogs barking. I wondered if a good looking female canine had finally appeared and hushed Tommy Tommy. I hope not, was hoping to catch some of that action live, record it and upload it to a website for people who are so inclined (I am not judging them) then make loads of money. Or could the big guy upstairs have heard my prayers and made the dogs mute and deaf too. He works in mysterious ways. And my happiness is more important than the joy of the owner of the dogs and of that I am certain (so help me god)
Then I heard the clatter. Pots and pans banging. Its a noise you always hear, but suddenly know that you're hearing it. You become aware of it, sudden awareness. Pots and pans banging. Something frying, a young girl crying (kidding, the last part was just for the rhyme, no one was crying) (or dying) (am lying) (trying) then an FM playing songs by dead African 'musiciens'. From the name, they promise to play these songs forever. This new realisation hits me, and I panic. No way am going to listen to this forever!
But my attention soon shifts as I begin to understand the bigger picture. In that silent darkness, everything becomes clearer in my mind. (1) My neighbour has a catering business. (2) They cook the whole night, and sell it the whole day, probably at some govt offices. Nyayo house I suspect, The Senior Officer in Charge of Burying Heads of State. (3) The smell of food attracts, rather, distracts the canines, making them confederate by my compound, hoping to catch a little more than a sniff.
And now am shaking with rage in my bed. No, Zo’s bed. The greedy enterprising highly paid senior government official who is my neighbour is running a side business that produces noise for his neighbours and distracts former wolves (dogs are evolved from wolves I read something like that in Richard Dawkins’ new book). There is something annoying about that whole story, but am not sure what or why. I can’t quite point a finger to it. I try to point a finger, then poke my eye, you see, it’s very dark.
Rage
But rage makes me my attention span shorter than it usually is (I think it’s a sort of defence mechanism, to prevent me from being very angry and bursting a vein, in my brain (rhyme for you there), my mind distracts my mind from the rage…Never mind, it doesn’t matter, mind over matter, actually, mind is not matter) and my mind quickly shifts again.
National Issues
I am now thinking of national and global issues. One particular issue interests me. If all the about 20m Kenyans over 15 years gave me a shilling each, I would be 20 million shillings richer than I am. This thought puts me at ease and makes me smile. And now am sleepy.
bold Is Ocampo a Christian?
Of course this does not answer eschatological discussions about where Kenyatta's soul rests? especially on long weekends. Intercont or Parliament or KICC or Uhuru Park? Or indeed more important questions like what is Moi? When is water? Why now how brown cow? and, why the MoU doesn't say who does the ToR for the MTR in P2 of HPIC's Agenda IV. Is Ocampo saved? Questions that linger in the mind of peace loving citizens (and friendly non-citizens, like Georges and ManMan (we don't know his real name)). It doesn't answer anything. Neither does the picture.
Then of course I realised I was in his room all along. So I put him down and started staring at the ceiling. Now I understand why they tell you to look at the bright side of life. I was looking at the dark and could see nothing. Just blackness. And black is not a colour, its nothing. I think it’s the new heavy curtains, the darkness.
The silence tonight is suspect. No dogs barking. I wondered if a good looking female canine had finally appeared and hushed Tommy Tommy. I hope not, was hoping to catch some of that action live, record it and upload it to a website for people who are so inclined (I am not judging them) then make loads of money. Or could the big guy upstairs have heard my prayers and made the dogs mute and deaf too. He works in mysterious ways. And my happiness is more important than the joy of the owner of the dogs and of that I am certain (so help me god)
Then I heard the clatter. Pots and pans banging. Its a noise you always hear, but suddenly know that you're hearing it. You become aware of it, sudden awareness. Pots and pans banging. Something frying, a young girl crying (kidding, the last part was just for the rhyme, no one was crying) (or dying) (am lying) (trying) then an FM playing songs by dead African 'musiciens'. From the name, they promise to play these songs forever. This new realisation hits me, and I panic. No way am going to listen to this forever!
But my attention soon shifts as I begin to understand the bigger picture. In that silent darkness, everything becomes clearer in my mind. (1) My neighbour has a catering business. (2) They cook the whole night, and sell it the whole day, probably at some govt offices. Nyayo house I suspect, The Senior Officer in Charge of Burying Heads of State. (3) The smell of food attracts, rather, distracts the canines, making them confederate by my compound, hoping to catch a little more than a sniff.
And now am shaking with rage in my bed. No, Zo’s bed. The greedy enterprising highly paid senior government official who is my neighbour is running a side business that produces noise for his neighbours and distracts former wolves (dogs are evolved from wolves I read something like that in Richard Dawkins’ new book). There is something annoying about that whole story, but am not sure what or why. I can’t quite point a finger to it. I try to point a finger, then poke my eye, you see, it’s very dark.
Rage
But rage makes me my attention span shorter than it usually is (I think it’s a sort of defence mechanism, to prevent me from being very angry and bursting a vein, in my brain (rhyme for you there), my mind distracts my mind from the rage…Never mind, it doesn’t matter, mind over matter, actually, mind is not matter) and my mind quickly shifts again.
National Issues
I am now thinking of national and global issues. One particular issue interests me. If all the about 20m Kenyans over 15 years gave me a shilling each, I would be 20 million shillings richer than I am. This thought puts me at ease and makes me smile. And now am sleepy.
bold Is Ocampo a Christian?
Of course this does not answer eschatological discussions about where Kenyatta's soul rests? especially on long weekends. Intercont or Parliament or KICC or Uhuru Park? Or indeed more important questions like what is Moi? When is water? Why now how brown cow? and, why the MoU doesn't say who does the ToR for the MTR in P2 of HPIC's Agenda IV. Is Ocampo saved? Questions that linger in the mind of peace loving citizens (and friendly non-citizens, like Georges and ManMan (we don't know his real name)). It doesn't answer anything. Neither does the picture.
meaningless jpeg of naked doggie
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