Darling, when we fall in love, remind me to take you to 360 degrees Ristorante. Because that’s where you and I will spend the rest of my money, and of course my father’s. Don’t give me the rest of your life. I just want the rest of your evening. Even if it is just for a cup of Espresso or Americano,
On the eve of my campus admission; I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned but just couldn’t find the right position. I was in a linger; eyes couldn’t close, heart wouldn’t stop beating. I couldn’t just wait to get to my fantasy world no matter how blurred it was. My mind kept wandering in vicinities I have never been.
Looking back, given a time travel machine, I would go back and relive the four years. The echoes of my life on campus keep sounding the same song; Make the very same mistakes and meet the very same friends. Thanks to the four years, I can now afford to dream. I can look in the mirror, stare straight to my eyes,
So, I am taking a walk in this invisible space in my mind and in the subconscious land is a train wreck of chaotic realities that I would like to share. For starters, I am now almost convinced that I was born three centuries too late. That is not to say I am questioning the wisdom of He who thought it wise to have me in this generation.
It is not a secret now, that many facets of my rather ‘mysterious’ life, as my friends would say, give every indication that in fact, I was in the lineage of chief-hood. That is to say, if the British could have just held on to their piss and maybe avoided East Africa, I could have been a Chief and most probably presiding over the council of Jodongo this very second.
Outside their chambers, they fight and give all indications that they are enemies. Or at least, that is what they want us to see. In fact they call themselves names to sell the act. But here is the truth, just like Pro-wrestling, it is all scripted and predetermined. The punches and the kicks maybe real, but at the end it is a win-win situation: money in the bank.