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I think I have missed writing. No content on my blog because somehow my neighbours Dog ate my password.

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Ramadan

I so much want to write, I enjoy writing but am hungry. Am so hungry that I can't sit and think about anything else but how I miss popcorn. Or how doughnuts go well with melted ice cream. Does one really have to fast? What happens if I just stopped for a second; the roadside maize smells so good and I just had a loose 700 in my pockets. But then I promised Latifah I would last the entire period. For an un religious believer it sounds more of an ideology than a matter of religious faith. But then again maybe it's for love, maybe it's for adventure. Maybe I can buy a croissant. No one would know. Ahhhhh at last I reach Ntinda, this taxi was super fast. Me and my thoughts.

Thoughts

I live next door to a wonderful brilliant woman. She has intelligent talk and is really a very dependable neighbor. But am always having more than one a many thoughts about her. See she is unique, she is an albino and we all know how it is being one of a kind. The stares, the stares and more stares, everyday everywhere. Good thing Liza is a positive woman with a good job and she is a strong lady. Talking of uniqueness, on the road to work; you know in this Ntinda-Wandegeya traffic Jam you can do just about anything you want. Yeah that's when my Sister applies make up. On the road to work, I read about a Lesbian who had been allegedly evicted from some Rented House, the Landlord quoting the new signed bill gave her till March 20th to leave, peacefully. True or not, it got me thinking what if the Lady evicted was just Tomboyish and not a Lesbian. Unfair it would be, isn't it? Or What if the Lady was hardcore and a bad influence to the immediate society. I mean a Landlord h

I will

"I have a headache so I won't write." I have thoughts. That yearn to be let out. And they'll be. I have a lot that I'm sleeping on. The sleep is sweet. I want more. I'l write something so nice. It'll have tongues wagging. When I wake up, I will. Oh here comes the rain. Soon as it dries up i'll write. I love the rain. I love the sleep. I live for sleep in the rain. I'll wake up. I'll write. My friend, she wants a Billet-doux written. She longs for it. I'll write. She'll smile. I bought her a flower. It dried up. she smiled. She didn't sneeze this time. It was dry. She loved it, but she didn't say. The chocolate. It didn't melt. It was melted. Words were written. In it. "Write me something, anything." What was left. It was smudged. On her favorite seat. My face. "I can't say i love you. I can say I love ink, this ink, you and paper." I'll write. Anything. It'll be short, it'll be fro

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