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I am alluding to Watschen DEFINITION a good hiding. I just had to read the book concurrently with ‘Gone Girl’ by Gillian Flynn- finished watching the movie (Ben Affleck killed this one). A tweep had suggested the book. As for The book thief, it had to do with Biko Zulu. Obviously, I will not finish reading the books in 2014.I will probably in 2015. Like in the first week.
If it were not for the festive season- traveling, booze, clubbing and hangover. I would have completed reading the two books. As for Gone Girl, the movie was just intrinsic and superb. A good watch. If you loved Pulp Fiction “94.
What will be my defence? I am a late entrant. The last
minute guy. Kanye West’s late registration lingers in my mind like coils on a
frantic centipede.
Solitary confinement. It is never easy I say.
When you are scuffling to find some gravitas.
I have gone to hell and back. Reminder. Make your Himmel (heaven) here on earth. If you can’t, religion is the opiate of the masses. My agnostic debut at faith. I am not heathen though. Heaven and hell are real. You never know your designation in life. End times are nigh. When you kick the bucket, you are on a sojourn. Who knows? Maybe reincarnation is real. Could Jews have brainwashed us knowing full well something about belief.
The murky waters have to be trudged with focus, ambition and most of all the knowledge of the fact that the end justifies the means.
I have been looking for peace. Elusive. But peas grow in the field.
Sin City: A Dame To Die For. The scripting, narration, the fiction. I wish I had that voice, Manoute- probably naught. Dwight, Yes he narrates. Maybe second to Morgan Freeman in the Shawshank Redemption. Old town, the women, debauchery. Good it was done in black and white for it would have been graphic.
I am on the grip of revelation, numbness, its obligatory. I miss graphic design: Photoshop, Illustrator, Indesign. Videos to Brain. Year was fine.
Spongebob Squarepants, I still get the nerves to watch it. Sometimes. Oblivious of the fact that I only know one character. Nickelodeon.
Like Spongebob, I have a knack for attracting trouble, sometimes with those I think can condone my versatility. Ocassionally my childish traits come to the fore. I reason loudly though.
Perhaps I should have smoked at some point. Cuban cigars. I crave them. The praise for Cuban cigars is effusive and consistent. They have the label of authenticity and you sure can never smoke an imitation. The retailers though, the price tag for a single stick, yes and location of sale. Out of my reach. The idea of billowing them are like ecstasy. I don't smoke.
I am struggling with indecision. Poor cognizance. Metaphoric jester. Rabid hesitation. I need a change of scenery. ASAP.
Found my own Willis Ochieng. Android App. Woman's voice. Lost my earphones. Disturbance.
This piece though caught my attention.
“I'm glad you've come to read this post and I can see you have things that are troubling you because I am receiving strong signals from you. I sense that the things you really want out of life sometimes seem unrealistic and you often wonder whether you can achieve them. I also sense that at times you are friendly, social and outgoing to others, but that at other times you are withdrawn, reserved and cautious. You take pride in being an independent thinker but also know not to accept what you see and hear from others, without proof. You like change and variety but become restless if controlled by restrictions and routine. You want to share your innermost feelings with those closest to you but have found it unwise to be too open and revealing. A man in your life with the initial 'S' is exerting a strong influence over you right now and a woman who is born in November will contact you in the next month with an exciting offer. While you appear disciplined and controlled on the outside, you tend to be concerned and worried on the inside and at times you wonder whether or not you have made the right choice or decision.”
I apologize. I am sorry. Priceless words that connote Ubuntu.
Itchy fingers, toes clenched with excitement. Soles unable to support my frame, sores. I have to sit.
I have to purge. Idiocy check, procrastination check, self esteem issues check and sere ambition. General spectrum should burgeon. Flourish my dwindling chattels. My mind is a sea of knowledge.
No one gives you an initiative, you have to take it. First few hours, always frustrating. But you breaking into bits and you are good to go.
Rabbit’s Swahili Shakespeare, the lyrics “The Last King Of...
I have gone to hell and back. Reminder. Make your Himmel (heaven) here on earth. If you can’t, religion is the opiate of the masses. My agnostic debut at faith. I am not heathen though. Heaven and hell are real. You never know your designation in life. End times are nigh. When you kick the bucket, you are on a sojourn. Who knows? Maybe reincarnation is real. Could Jews have brainwashed us knowing full well something about belief.
The murky waters have to be trudged with focus, ambition and most of all the knowledge of the fact that the end justifies the means.
I have been looking for peace. Elusive. But peas grow in the field.
Sin City: A Dame To Die For. The scripting, narration, the fiction. I wish I had that voice, Manoute- probably naught. Dwight, Yes he narrates. Maybe second to Morgan Freeman in the Shawshank Redemption. Old town, the women, debauchery. Good it was done in black and white for it would have been graphic.
I am on the grip of revelation, numbness, its obligatory. I miss graphic design: Photoshop, Illustrator, Indesign. Videos to Brain. Year was fine.
Spongebob Squarepants, I still get the nerves to watch it. Sometimes. Oblivious of the fact that I only know one character. Nickelodeon.
Like Spongebob, I have a knack for attracting trouble, sometimes with those I think can condone my versatility. Ocassionally my childish traits come to the fore. I reason loudly though.
Perhaps I should have smoked at some point. Cuban cigars. I crave them. The praise for Cuban cigars is effusive and consistent. They have the label of authenticity and you sure can never smoke an imitation. The retailers though, the price tag for a single stick, yes and location of sale. Out of my reach. The idea of billowing them are like ecstasy. I don't smoke.
I am struggling with indecision. Poor cognizance. Metaphoric jester. Rabid hesitation. I need a change of scenery. ASAP.
Found my own Willis Ochieng. Android App. Woman's voice. Lost my earphones. Disturbance.
This piece though caught my attention.
“I'm glad you've come to read this post and I can see you have things that are troubling you because I am receiving strong signals from you. I sense that the things you really want out of life sometimes seem unrealistic and you often wonder whether you can achieve them. I also sense that at times you are friendly, social and outgoing to others, but that at other times you are withdrawn, reserved and cautious. You take pride in being an independent thinker but also know not to accept what you see and hear from others, without proof. You like change and variety but become restless if controlled by restrictions and routine. You want to share your innermost feelings with those closest to you but have found it unwise to be too open and revealing. A man in your life with the initial 'S' is exerting a strong influence over you right now and a woman who is born in November will contact you in the next month with an exciting offer. While you appear disciplined and controlled on the outside, you tend to be concerned and worried on the inside and at times you wonder whether or not you have made the right choice or decision.”
I apologize. I am sorry. Priceless words that connote Ubuntu.
Itchy fingers, toes clenched with excitement. Soles unable to support my frame, sores. I have to sit.
I have to purge. Idiocy check, procrastination check, self esteem issues check and sere ambition. General spectrum should burgeon. Flourish my dwindling chattels. My mind is a sea of knowledge.
No one gives you an initiative, you have to take it. First few hours, always frustrating. But you breaking into bits and you are good to go.
Rabbit’s Swahili Shakespeare, the lyrics “The Last King Of...
O.K
Bad times ziukuja na believe me bila warnings/
so najipanga for the weather, jua tua ya jioni/
wanashanga vile niko kaa mlevi anastagga but on a tight
rope/
comments kwa wall mahali naperform wanadai mi nimDope/
wakizidi kuongea chafu waambie waswallow soap/
streets is talking, unabelieve in corridors?”
I can’t complete them lyrics. Poignant, real and I listened to it thrice.
Forgot to mention 2pac, Thugs Mansion, Hit em Up. No offence but I aint feeling Notorious. But biggie though was better in ciphers- freestyle. Ask me not why I love art. It’s intrinsic. Out of the blues.
Scrabble. I pulled a stunt and made a douchebag out of my friend who had mastered the skill while I was a rookie. Debased was an understatement. Still he wanted a rematch. Please, my ken is out your league brother. Arrogance, egoistic. Call me anything but Karesa you will never match me. Not so soon. Swallow that na kiwaru.
“Collected Poems,” by Mark Strand. I want this book like yesterday. RIP Mark, Poet Laureate. Good mastery of surrealism. Nostalgic poems. Respect.
Sidney Sheldon, you read his novels written decades ago and still relate to them like they were written yesterday. His mastery of suspense, diction, you name it.
SITUONANE.
[Photo Source: Google Images]
I can’t complete them lyrics. Poignant, real and I listened to it thrice.
Forgot to mention 2pac, Thugs Mansion, Hit em Up. No offence but I aint feeling Notorious. But biggie though was better in ciphers- freestyle. Ask me not why I love art. It’s intrinsic. Out of the blues.
Scrabble. I pulled a stunt and made a douchebag out of my friend who had mastered the skill while I was a rookie. Debased was an understatement. Still he wanted a rematch. Please, my ken is out your league brother. Arrogance, egoistic. Call me anything but Karesa you will never match me. Not so soon. Swallow that na kiwaru.
“Collected Poems,” by Mark Strand. I want this book like yesterday. RIP Mark, Poet Laureate. Good mastery of surrealism. Nostalgic poems. Respect.
Sidney Sheldon, you read his novels written decades ago and still relate to them like they were written yesterday. His mastery of suspense, diction, you name it.
SITUONANE.
[Photo Source: Google Images]
