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for you yayx

If you have longed to apologize to me. There wouldn’t be a more promising time to be assured of a pardon. If you have always wished to earn my favor. Your opportunity is now.

I am in love. With the whole world. I like everyone and everything. You wouldn’t piss me off if you tried. I want to kiss everyone (‘s cheek). And tell them I love them. I’m happy and inspired. And lonely at the same time. Because yayx can't be here all the time.

Anyone ever made you feel that way?

Life’s 'stinkiest' dung right at you

you get to a certain age when you justifiably wonder “what could life possibly throw at me now?”Then BOOM! life shows you what

I always watched the old man at one of the desks at work suspiciously; why is he so far away from home? Why is he still employed under a child that could pass for his great grand child? Why does he keep on insinuating he was great at this career? then what happened? why is he a mere employee now?

Today I found out
Mzee was actually great; he started out young. Worked his way fast through the ranks. Made ground-breaking successes. Pushing this business to the top in several aspects. Then he got to that point. There was nothing more to achieve. He had done it.

He retired early. To a farm he had carefully and painstakingly saved to set up over the years. In the Rift Valley. In Kenya.Home. everythign turned out well.Just as he had intended it to. But that was in the now far off past.When it didn’t cross his mind that his tribe would one day be his undoing.

Then last year. over a billion years later. Life let off its 'stinkiest' dung and shoved it right up Mzee's nostrils before smearing it all over his land marks.
The Kenya elections happened. And a civil war right after them. the chaos was concetrated in the Rift Valley.The same Rift Valley where Mzee had retired.In a flash. Everything was gone. everything Mzee had worked for for years was gone in just a few strokes of violence.

Back where he served deligently and successfully all those years ago He found a whole new generation that didn't even know him. There was no vacancy. he was told. Unless he was willing to work in another country. Where there were places he could be fixed.

That's how Mzee lands at the desk at which I watch him everyday. Suspiciously. Concealing his stench quite well. With a smile. And contented façade.“Whatever you go through, just be strong. Have hope. If you still have your two arms that can work There is still hope,” he repeatedly tells us the younger generation, sometimes without necessarily revealing how he learnt this.

I am very sad. There is an ache in the deepest of my heart. Life couldn’t just let him be?