leap year, in the mother city

fitting your stereotype just right, the internet is indeed rare in africa. so are big cars, big parking lots, and stressed people. however so far even though things that make one's life easier have somewhat disappeared or costly, that is rather improving the quality of my life.

i guess anyone can live it this way in any place in any time, but to me, a weak soul easily influenced by surroundings, i am glad im forced to live this way. it's like everyone knows happiness is right in one's room, so we learnt and so is true, but everyone still seeks out happiness everywhere else.

i am fine, and you?

the summer of 2007, living in tim's apartment

How I Became The Bomb - Secret Identity

i just want to post this song for myself before it fades all the way. because there is nothing more sad than memories that's running away from me.

but, then, of course, there is, more to it.

it might be the stream that i refuse to flow with
and of course it's hectic to change its path
how much scared i am to take a chance and a risk
"scared" might not be a proper word there but
noone is comfortable with uncertainty and poverty.
while those two do not have to be directly linked,
at this age and place, in this society, they are
same difference.

live great or live good.
obviously greatness only comes at a cost of goodness
but when i give up goodness, there is no going back.
goodness will fell into someone else's footsteps
and reaching greatness then seems impossible.
however i would never get to come close to that
if i cant let go of goodness, only and all. altogether.

living and maximizing

it is not too hard to realize that i have wasted my life
or at least that i have not lived my life fully, fully.

and to outsiders, that would be an understatement
because it seems like i have lived a colorful life.

maybe that is why i failed. Camouflage, that is.
the surrounding *seems* exciting, yet i barely do anything.

the obvious answer is that i should start living fully
but more or less i don't know how or i feel it's too late.

but then i am wasting this very moment.

im in africa. I AM!

slow pace, vibrant but faded colours, chill atmosphere, magnificent mountains, endless ocean, cloud-falls (i'd call), super windy obz, kind people, loud noise, good music, quite afternoon, happy morning, and that feeling

im in africa and im supposedly freaked out

so i was coming back from clifton beach #4 and we were transferring a minibus in the city station. just slow walking being a little bit out of it. then i felt someone's hand on my left shoulder. i turned around. then boom! there was this big dude with a thick and long stick, swinging it right on me. but fortunately he stopped right before it got my face. then he smiles. seriously what the.

im in africa but what the hell

im walking on my way to the rudimentals, minding my own business. sometime after a sunset but before a complete darkness. when i turned a corner, i noticed a old lady with a beer bottle walking in front of me. then out of blue, she turned around and swung her beer bottle at the full force at me. (i somehow luckily blocked it with my left hand's intercarpal articulation and it hurts like mf)

what am i supposed to say and what am i supposed to do?