was it the time or was it the smile, i don't know, all i know is that she danced away with a certain part of my fancy. she was neither bright nor beautiful, and she had giant, water-melon-sized breasts. she must have admired them and i hope she still does for she had a way of squashing your shoulders with it if you flattered her, but she did it in such a mundane fashion that it could not be termed as erotic, pitiful at most..............
and she used to zubaa ( there is no english equivalent for that verb), to zubaa is too try crossing a highway, eager to get to the other side , a lot of thoughts in your mind and have it suddenly poof away, as if some angel flew away with your brain and you are left standing in the middle of the road wondering why that heavy truck is coming to crash you.....oops nasty thought
anyway agatha was one of my poorer attempts at dating ( it was not really dating, more of a muddled desperation of a zubaad girl to a lad whose eagerness to dating could only be matched by the bankruptness of her beauty)..............
nways, i do not know whether i should date. my brother says that if you do not get a better half in campus then you are as good as a zubaad agatha, he has in his proud possession ( pliz excuse the insensitivity) a caramel complexioned cameo who has bestowed upon him a caramel complexioned baby, seeing the three together is like witnessing a nativity scene........
an acquaintance ( i differentiate them from friends in that the former are close enough that i could borrow money from them but not that close that they should borrow money from me), anyway the acquaintance accused me of having no real feelings for ladies.....this has some serious intimations....and i looked at him with those what-do-you-mean-eyes......
i think i hate the whole game of lads running after lasses...why can't love just happen.....e.g.....you walk into a lady's hall of residence....and you see this butter-skinned butterfly sashaying in a bath-robe in the corridor... a total stranger....and a gust of wind tears furiously into the room, bearing with it the bathrobe....the same furious wind also bears you off the ground and hurls your mighty frame at her nubile form and you end up tumbled and interlocked on the floor ( welcome to the fantasies of the masculine mind)....from there it is so easy to declare your love.... i don't think that in such a privileged position any of you can afford to play with the usual beating-around-the-bush nuances of this ancient game......
wouldn't it be so nice if men could just be honest with women
"look here, i really don't want to watch Oprah with you, i came here to have sex and if you are humane enough you will appreciate the urgency of my carnal desires and be compliant to my swiftest caresses..you see i usually sleep with your sister susan on thursday but she is not in town today....you could substitute her well...i am willing to overlook the cellulite and the multiple chin...hop off your clothes now"
nways, my mind is not that twisted, i was an altar boy remember ( read through my blog if you can't).....it is just that this relationship making-breaking stuff bore me.....and campus chicks bore me as much as i bore them of course...they don't care about you, they only care for your card-your sound stereo and your snoop-doggy-dog style......please don't think that this is a materially-deprived student's consolation.....i mean....actually.....i just don't know ( oops losing my connection).....all in all it is not fair out and out, for girls to behave that way in an institution of higher learning... i thought we had come so far in education to remove blinders from our eyes and see material possessions for what they are.....worldy decorations that have little value compared to the person....ladies should be deep for they are naturally abundantly endowed with that aspect.....well, this is just my opinion, not a fact, may be i am the one with the wrong attitude, if anyone has his/her opinion i will be more than delighted to read your comment..
speaking of deep ladies, i really pray that whitney houston gets better soon if she is not better already ( i really don't trust the media when it comes too reporting celebrity details-it seems the dirtier the better...am sure with such an incentive i would not be too wrong to say that they might have cooked something up about this fiery alto)....and yep, i believe she is a deep lady....just listen to her songs for confirmation.....
otherwise, the sem is coming to an end, trying hard to chop early enough and not to procrastinate like we usually do......wish me luck peeps..
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
a rumour called agatha
was it the time or was it the smile, i don't know, all i know is that she danced away with a certain part of my fancy. she was neither bright nor beautiful, and she had giant, water-melon-sized breasts. she must have admired them and i hope she still does for she had a way of squashing your shoulders with it if you flattered her, but she did it in such a mundane fashion that it could not be termed as erotic, pitiful at most..............
and she used to zubaa ( there is no english equivalent for that verb), to zubaa is too try crossing a highway, eager to get to the other side , a lot of thoughts in your mind and have it suddenly poof away, as if some angel flew away with your brain and you are left standing in the middle of the road wondering why that heavy truck is coming to crash you.....oops nasty thought
anyway agatha was one of my poorer attempts at dating ( it was not really dating, more of a muddled desperation of a zubaad girl to a lad whose eagerness to dating could only be matched by the bankruptness of her beauty)..............
nways, i do not know whether i should date. my brother says that if you do not get a better half in campus then you are as good as a zubaad agatha, he has in his proud possession ( pliz excuse the insensitivity) a caramel complexioned cameo who has bestowed upon him a caramel complexioned baby, seeing the three together is like witnessing a nativity scene........
an acquaintance ( i differentiate them from friends in that the former are close enough that i could borrow money from them but not that close that they should borrow money from me), anyway the acquaintance accused me of having no real feelings for ladies.....this has some serious intimations....and i looked at him with those what-do-you-mean-eyes......
i think i hate the whole game of lads running after lasses...why can't love just happen.....e.g.....you walk into a lady's hall of residence....and you see this butter-skinned butterfly sashaying in a bath-robe in the corridor... a total stranger....and a gust of wind tears furiously into the room, bearing with it the bathrobe....the same furious wind also bears you off the ground and hurls your mighty frame at her nubile form and you end up tumbled and interlocked on the floor ( welcome to the fantasies of the masculine mind)....from there it is so easy to declare your love.... i don't think that in such a privileged position any of you can afford to play with the usual beating-around-the-bush nuances of this ancient game......
wouldn't it be so nice if men could just be honest with women
"look here, i really don't want to watch Oprah with you, i came here to have sex and if you are humane enough you will appreciate the urgency of my carnal desires and be compliant to my swiftest caresses..you see i usually sleep with your sister susan on thursday but she is not in town today....you could substitute her well...i am willing to overlook the cellulite and the multiple chin...hop off your clothes now"
nways, my mind is not that twisted, i was an altar boy remember ( read through my blog if you can't).....it is just that this relationship making-breaking stuff bore me.....and campus chicks bore me as much as they bore me of course...they don't care about you, they only care for your card-your sound stereo and your snoop-doggy-dog style......please don't think that this is a materially-deprived student's consolation.....i mean....actually.....i just don't know ( oops losing my connection).....all in all it is not fair out and out, for girls to behave that way in an institution of higher learning... i thought we had come so far in education to remove blinders from our eyes and see material possessions for what they are.....worldy decorations that have little value compared to the person....ladies should be deep for they are naturally abundantly endowed with that aspect.....well, this is just mu opinion, not a fact, may be i am the one with the wrong attitute, if anyone has his/her opinion i will be more than delighted to read your comment..
speaking of deep ladies, i really pray that whitney houston gets better soon if she is not better already ( i really don't trust the media when it comes too reporting celebrity details-it seems the dirtier the better...am sure with such an incentive i would not be too wrong to say that they might have cooked something up about this fiery alto)....and yep, i believe she is a deep lady....just listen to her songs for confirmation.....
otherwise, the sem is coming to an end, trying hard to chop early enough and not to procrastinate like we usually do......wish me luck peeps..
and she used to zubaa ( there is no english equivalent for that verb), to zubaa is too try crossing a highway, eager to get to the other side , a lot of thoughts in your mind and have it suddenly poof away, as if some angel flew away with your brain and you are left standing in the middle of the road wondering why that heavy truck is coming to crash you.....oops nasty thought
anyway agatha was one of my poorer attempts at dating ( it was not really dating, more of a muddled desperation of a zubaad girl to a lad whose eagerness to dating could only be matched by the bankruptness of her beauty)..............
nways, i do not know whether i should date. my brother says that if you do not get a better half in campus then you are as good as a zubaad agatha, he has in his proud possession ( pliz excuse the insensitivity) a caramel complexioned cameo who has bestowed upon him a caramel complexioned baby, seeing the three together is like witnessing a nativity scene........
an acquaintance ( i differentiate them from friends in that the former are close enough that i could borrow money from them but not that close that they should borrow money from me), anyway the acquaintance accused me of having no real feelings for ladies.....this has some serious intimations....and i looked at him with those what-do-you-mean-eyes......
i think i hate the whole game of lads running after lasses...why can't love just happen.....e.g.....you walk into a lady's hall of residence....and you see this butter-skinned butterfly sashaying in a bath-robe in the corridor... a total stranger....and a gust of wind tears furiously into the room, bearing with it the bathrobe....the same furious wind also bears you off the ground and hurls your mighty frame at her nubile form and you end up tumbled and interlocked on the floor ( welcome to the fantasies of the masculine mind)....from there it is so easy to declare your love.... i don't think that in such a privileged position any of you can afford to play with the usual beating-around-the-bush nuances of this ancient game......
wouldn't it be so nice if men could just be honest with women
"look here, i really don't want to watch Oprah with you, i came here to have sex and if you are humane enough you will appreciate the urgency of my carnal desires and be compliant to my swiftest caresses..you see i usually sleep with your sister susan on thursday but she is not in town today....you could substitute her well...i am willing to overlook the cellulite and the multiple chin...hop off your clothes now"
nways, my mind is not that twisted, i was an altar boy remember ( read through my blog if you can't).....it is just that this relationship making-breaking stuff bore me.....and campus chicks bore me as much as they bore me of course...they don't care about you, they only care for your card-your sound stereo and your snoop-doggy-dog style......please don't think that this is a materially-deprived student's consolation.....i mean....actually.....i just don't know ( oops losing my connection).....all in all it is not fair out and out, for girls to behave that way in an institution of higher learning... i thought we had come so far in education to remove blinders from our eyes and see material possessions for what they are.....worldy decorations that have little value compared to the person....ladies should be deep for they are naturally abundantly endowed with that aspect.....well, this is just mu opinion, not a fact, may be i am the one with the wrong attitute, if anyone has his/her opinion i will be more than delighted to read your comment..
speaking of deep ladies, i really pray that whitney houston gets better soon if she is not better already ( i really don't trust the media when it comes too reporting celebrity details-it seems the dirtier the better...am sure with such an incentive i would not be too wrong to say that they might have cooked something up about this fiery alto)....and yep, i believe she is a deep lady....just listen to her songs for confirmation.....
otherwise, the sem is coming to an end, trying hard to chop early enough and not to procrastinate like we usually do......wish me luck peeps..
Saturday, May 13, 2006
if i had a song for africa
my blackness is not my skin,..... it is my pain and my destiny,..... i recoil beneath it like a tortoise, ....seeking covering in its velvety covering .....when the world overwhelms me.
i carry within me the dreams of the many children ......who have died of aids, genocides and famine, .......there voices whisper to me in the dark of the night, ......telling me that their destinies were unfulfilled, ........the world only heard the sorrowful stanzas of their song, that rang only of misery and despair, ......but their song was much bigger than that, ........and its sound would have stilled the eagles in the sky
it was a song of africa,....... africa whose feet are shod in the gold of south africa and whose hair is the shifting sanddunes of the sahara,....... africa to whom palaces were built from timbuktu to songhai, ........from zimbabwe to heliopolis egypt
they tell me that our mother has been naked to long,........ naked to the shame of oppression and indignity,...... but now africa wants to be clothed in designers, ........she wants pearl earrings on her ears to match the richness of her heart,.......... for too long has she cried,....... tears longer than the river nile
am black i say again,........... though i have lived in the dark my dawn is nigh, and the sun will rise on me tomorrow and i will sing a new song for africa......if you say am mad give me privileges for my madness, ............if you say am proud my pride is of a loving kind but if you accuse me of being black then just lock your lips and throw away the keys ......for i am black...i am black .....i am black!
i carry within me the dreams of the many children ......who have died of aids, genocides and famine, .......there voices whisper to me in the dark of the night, ......telling me that their destinies were unfulfilled, ........the world only heard the sorrowful stanzas of their song, that rang only of misery and despair, ......but their song was much bigger than that, ........and its sound would have stilled the eagles in the sky
it was a song of africa,....... africa whose feet are shod in the gold of south africa and whose hair is the shifting sanddunes of the sahara,....... africa to whom palaces were built from timbuktu to songhai, ........from zimbabwe to heliopolis egypt
they tell me that our mother has been naked to long,........ naked to the shame of oppression and indignity,...... but now africa wants to be clothed in designers, ........she wants pearl earrings on her ears to match the richness of her heart,.......... for too long has she cried,....... tears longer than the river nile
am black i say again,........... though i have lived in the dark my dawn is nigh, and the sun will rise on me tomorrow and i will sing a new song for africa......if you say am mad give me privileges for my madness, ............if you say am proud my pride is of a loving kind but if you accuse me of being black then just lock your lips and throw away the keys ......for i am black...i am black .....i am black!
if i had a song for africa
my blackness is not my skin,..... it is my pain and my destiny,..... i recoil beneath it like a tortoise, ....seeking covering in its velvety covering .....when the world overwhelms me.
i carry within me the dreams of the many children ......who have died of aids, genocides and famine, .......there voices whisper to me in the dark of the night, ......telling me that their destinies were unfulfilled, ........the world only heard the sorrowful stanzas of their song, that rang only of misery and despair, ......but their song was much bigger than that, ........and its sound would have stilled the eagles in the sky
it was a song of africa,....... africa whose feet are shod in the gold of south africa and whose hair is the shifting sanddunes of the sahara,....... africa to whom palaces were built from timbuktu to songhai, ........from zimbabwe to heliopolis egypt
they tell me that our mother has been naked to long,........ naked to the shame of oppression and indignity,...... but now africa wants to be clothed in designers, ........she wants pearl earrings on her ears to match the richness of her heart,.......... for too long has she cried, tears longer than the river nile
am black i say again,........... though i have lived in the dark my dawn is nigh, and the sun will rise on me tomorrow and i will sing a new song for africa......if you say am mad give me privileges for my madness, ............if you say am proud my pride is of a loving kind but if you accuse me of being black then just lock your lips and throw away the keys ......for i am black...i am black .....i am black!
i carry within me the dreams of the many children ......who have died of aids, genocides and famine, .......there voices whisper to me in the dark of the night, ......telling me that their destinies were unfulfilled, ........the world only heard the sorrowful stanzas of their song, that rang only of misery and despair, ......but their song was much bigger than that, ........and its sound would have stilled the eagles in the sky
it was a song of africa,....... africa whose feet are shod in the gold of south africa and whose hair is the shifting sanddunes of the sahara,....... africa to whom palaces were built from timbuktu to songhai, ........from zimbabwe to heliopolis egypt
they tell me that our mother has been naked to long,........ naked to the shame of oppression and indignity,...... but now africa wants to be clothed in designers, ........she wants pearl earrings on her ears to match the richness of her heart,.......... for too long has she cried, tears longer than the river nile
am black i say again,........... though i have lived in the dark my dawn is nigh, and the sun will rise on me tomorrow and i will sing a new song for africa......if you say am mad give me privileges for my madness, ............if you say am proud my pride is of a loving kind but if you accuse me of being black then just lock your lips and throw away the keys ......for i am black...i am black .....i am black!
Friday, May 12, 2006
islands in the stream
islands in the stream
that is what we are
no one in between
how can we be wrong
sail away with me
to another world
where we belong to each other
aa--aaah
country musicians really impress me, they treat words as if they are horses that can be galloped away with. nways, i always find myself flowing back to that sentimental tune...dolly parton is way deep, i tell you ( can't say much about the endless make-overs though)
wish i had a horse right now, a palomino or an appaloosa ( the names sound so fantasi-romantic ) and a thousand acres, somewhere in the deep hinterlands of the lone star county, wish also my heart was as big as texas and that i never meet with meddle-some people
meddles-some peeps...they are the worst people you can ever eat, sorry meet...they think they know so much and go about criticising everyone without even taking notice of the shame that is there in their lives...is it some sort of cover-up for the misery that is there in their lives that they have to speak so negatively of everyone who is around them..
...take not of this, there are this people who walk around my country ( i just want to be specific) claiming that if we could just be a bit more clever the woes that surround us would not exist at all..nothing bad in that thought, quite ponderable in fact, but since when in the history of mankind does one who knows not what it is to be hungry, what it is to be suffering from aids, what it is to be uneducated accuse others who are dipped in those very shifting sands of torture that it is they who authored their miseries...
i might sound a bit incoherent today, but i am just fired up with a song, it is a song every black person in sub-saharan africa knows by heart but has a craven fear of admitting it......it was the fiery singer Angelique Kidjoe who struck those first chords in my soul....never make people feel guilty she said so, for when you bring in the cycle of guilt you kill there spirit... nobody chose to be poor, to be a bean-pole, to be born black or white, and it is not like rich people are the most hardworking and poor people the laziest, and before you criticize someone take time to walk a thousand miles in his shoes, you might end up with a different tale
we look so much to define the world, but it can never be defined, it is amorphous and mystical, just as is every human, this is just the bizarreness of this cosmic phenomena called life...so don't strut like a turkey-cock believing you are so right and everyone is a fool and only you have the right ideas on how everyone should live their life...keep cool and flow with the beat, don't see the rough crust..see the diamond..see the sparkle waiting to shine...and dude don't try to hide its glitter for it will only shine brighter...and one day it will shine so bright that its light will consume you with all your contempt and show the world all the dirt hidden therein your heart...
that is what we are
no one in between
how can we be wrong
sail away with me
to another world
where we belong to each other
aa--aaah
country musicians really impress me, they treat words as if they are horses that can be galloped away with. nways, i always find myself flowing back to that sentimental tune...dolly parton is way deep, i tell you ( can't say much about the endless make-overs though)
wish i had a horse right now, a palomino or an appaloosa ( the names sound so fantasi-romantic ) and a thousand acres, somewhere in the deep hinterlands of the lone star county, wish also my heart was as big as texas and that i never meet with meddle-some people
meddles-some peeps...they are the worst people you can ever eat, sorry meet...they think they know so much and go about criticising everyone without even taking notice of the shame that is there in their lives...is it some sort of cover-up for the misery that is there in their lives that they have to speak so negatively of everyone who is around them..
...take not of this, there are this people who walk around my country ( i just want to be specific) claiming that if we could just be a bit more clever the woes that surround us would not exist at all..nothing bad in that thought, quite ponderable in fact, but since when in the history of mankind does one who knows not what it is to be hungry, what it is to be suffering from aids, what it is to be uneducated accuse others who are dipped in those very shifting sands of torture that it is they who authored their miseries...
i might sound a bit incoherent today, but i am just fired up with a song, it is a song every black person in sub-saharan africa knows by heart but has a craven fear of admitting it......it was the fiery singer Angelique Kidjoe who struck those first chords in my soul....never make people feel guilty she said so, for when you bring in the cycle of guilt you kill there spirit... nobody chose to be poor, to be a bean-pole, to be born black or white, and it is not like rich people are the most hardworking and poor people the laziest, and before you criticize someone take time to walk a thousand miles in his shoes, you might end up with a different tale
we look so much to define the world, but it can never be defined, it is amorphous and mystical, just as is every human, this is just the bizarreness of this cosmic phenomena called life...so don't strut like a turkey-cock believing you are so right and everyone is a fool and only you have the right ideas on how everyone should live their life...keep cool and flow with the beat, don't see the rough crust..see the diamond..see the sparkle waiting to shine...and dude don't try to hide its glitter for it will only shine brighter...and one day it will shine so bright that its light will consume you with all your contempt and show the world all the dirt hidden therein your heart...
Thursday, May 04, 2006
the king of takka tukku
who am i kidding? the only reason why i ventured into blogging is because i was bored with life in the real, un-e-world. and why should i not be bored. i am ensconsced in college room where my next-door neighbour does nothing but have sex all day ( at least that is how it appears to me with all the attendant bumpings and moanings i usually get as a free orchestra service). and he expects me to shake his hand in the morgen, no way...
nways, i also bought a pair of jeans, real heavy jeans but it seems they were a size too huge ( my friend says that they must have been designed to keep Danish cows warm in winter).why didn't i see that?now i am stuck with a pair of jeans that i will never get to wear unless i intend to hire myself out as a circus clown-so nerve-grating isn't it...
then again, i got chased out of class this morgen, for being late, i have never been late this much befor, but its like my head just shut off and i couldn't get up early,couldn't take breakfast (actually i could, only that i choose that moment when i was too take a bite of bread to mull over the writings of Plato so i ended up like a greek statue my hand frozen with the bread and my eyes staring solemnly into space).....
it was so disgusting you know, the guy doesn't know how to control the tone of his voice and when he shouted at me the whole class turned around thinking that Hitler had entered the room and it was all i could do not to break into flight, though my legs had developed a new life of their own and did not wish to tarry slow with me....
now he is one of those lecturers who give sudden, surprise quizzes,bolts from the blue ( truly they are bolts for they are hard like magic) and since there seems to be no love lost between the two of us ( from this and other experiences) he might just strike with his lightening staff ( his acquired the image of Zeus in my mind, sitting on a throne in mount Olympus while we get crushed underneath) and worst of all since he does not tolerate people who miss even a zenith of his classes ( i find this odd to believe because if he wants full classes why does he chase people out) he might be evil enough to dish out a disgusting grade at the end of the sem, despite all my superlative efforts..but no way, i am not going to allow that to happen, i have worked hard enough and i deserve a break....
so let me just cross my fingers and see what happens...ciao dudes, peeps, giants, trolls, orcs, philosophers, wizards..
nways, i also bought a pair of jeans, real heavy jeans but it seems they were a size too huge ( my friend says that they must have been designed to keep Danish cows warm in winter).why didn't i see that?now i am stuck with a pair of jeans that i will never get to wear unless i intend to hire myself out as a circus clown-so nerve-grating isn't it...
then again, i got chased out of class this morgen, for being late, i have never been late this much befor, but its like my head just shut off and i couldn't get up early,couldn't take breakfast (actually i could, only that i choose that moment when i was too take a bite of bread to mull over the writings of Plato so i ended up like a greek statue my hand frozen with the bread and my eyes staring solemnly into space).....
it was so disgusting you know, the guy doesn't know how to control the tone of his voice and when he shouted at me the whole class turned around thinking that Hitler had entered the room and it was all i could do not to break into flight, though my legs had developed a new life of their own and did not wish to tarry slow with me....
now he is one of those lecturers who give sudden, surprise quizzes,bolts from the blue ( truly they are bolts for they are hard like magic) and since there seems to be no love lost between the two of us ( from this and other experiences) he might just strike with his lightening staff ( his acquired the image of Zeus in my mind, sitting on a throne in mount Olympus while we get crushed underneath) and worst of all since he does not tolerate people who miss even a zenith of his classes ( i find this odd to believe because if he wants full classes why does he chase people out) he might be evil enough to dish out a disgusting grade at the end of the sem, despite all my superlative efforts..but no way, i am not going to allow that to happen, i have worked hard enough and i deserve a break....
so let me just cross my fingers and see what happens...ciao dudes, peeps, giants, trolls, orcs, philosophers, wizards..
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