turn the tap

Somebody’s messing with the faucet up in heaven.

The rain is incredulously stop start and  it is deceivingly queer, with the sun still gleaming brightly amidst the occasional drizzle; and interchanged with the unusually heavy outpouring of rain.

Perhaps its the cacophony caused by the droplets hurtling toward the ceremic tiled roofs, or pounding the pavements on which nobody is walking.

Or probably the weather too goes hand in hand with the current situation the world is in.

Which is uncertainty.

moonlight

Its four in the morning

And i am as tired as the hanging moon outside in the blackest shade of night, canvassed by those free drifting clouds of grey.

~

of drifters, and moon rivers

its all they could say

its all they could really say.

of faith and steps

Time is counting down fast. From a lengthy six months, it has now come to the point where there’s only about ten days left. The feeling is at least sinking into me, for me to realise the next phase in life will be one that i can touch in a mere week or so. Somewhere foreign, but somewhere at least i have a touch of home with friends i will know. I’m pretty blessed to realise how God has helped to ease my burdens and worries by making my future transition into a different culture a better and more fulfilling one.

Probably the only thing i would have hoped for, but i know which is impossible, is for granny to send me off too. She’s always been such a paramount figure in my life, even till now; when she has already departed to a far more beautiful place above, her influence and warm presence has always been peripheral. I would crave so much for a little smile of sorts, or just a little jibe of encouragment always done in her own loving style. And although its been a couple of years already, she basically; is permanently etched in the deep recesses of my heart.

The following is going to be so cliched but i guess it really proves a point when people say, life is a matter of cherishing and forgiving and loving. Okay, that’s what i always say but still it makes the same point, time is the essence here, the independent variable (pardon me, too much maths), the constant main denominator. All of us are subjected to the whims and fancies of  the famous tick tocking of time, and how much are we left to do what we ought to do and not regret? Regret is a product which either drives you on or crushes you there and then. Splat. whatever. we all get the point.

But hey, perseverance breeds character and character breeds hope (its in the bible), so all is not lost at all.

Not even a single bit.

fade out

Maybe its just me, or is time really fleeting past so surreptitiously; that it seems so defining, yet scarily quick and silent all at the same time?

Therein lies the problem of time. It seems to be such a fine manipulator of emotions, such a solemn indicator of ageing, of withering, of fading aways and fade outs.

Maybe its just a case of deja vu, of getting caught up with the incessant rumblings of this world to stay ahead, but still get caught out still.

Maybe its just a feeling that prematurely rears its head, to wrestle with your heart and try to force in things which you have tried not to forge ties with, or which you already have distanced from.

Maybe its just paranoia, or perhaps really

 its just the work of a heart patriotic to its true values and purpose of its existence.

Little Things

The little things in life, are usually what constitutes to a more wholesome and fulfilling completion to the ever increasing and endless jigsaw we all call fulfillment.

It depends on the level of contentment each individual will tend to have, so watching a drifting cloud let’s say; will be such a joy to behold for one, but to another, it may be just a passing piece of giant cotton candy.

Ever so often, we neglect the little things in life to focus on the biggies, the huge bowl of expectations we tend to try to swallow and digest. What we eventually will feel, will be  pain, disappointment, depression, etc. It doesn’t mean we are not supposed to be aiming high, it depends on whether we are contented with what we have, knowing when to stop, knowing when to push on, and knowing when to look at the little details we miss out and delight in them.

A flip of a coin will declare whether it’s either a head or a tail, to another person in another far flung country, it may be a deciding moment in his life, whereby his chances and ability to live on earth may lie in the fate and face of the coin, tossed by the soiled fingers of an oppressor bound to the right hand seat of the devil himself.

Conflict and peace, its just a thin fine line.

Happiness and sadness, its just the same.

If everyone would just appreciate their existence on this sole earth, and marvel at how their life could unravel uncountable opportunities to be happy and to live life in a fulfilling way, there’s bound to be a trajectory to nowhere for the likes of anger and hatred to embark on.

Little things, they do count.

a pretty bad start, but it’ll be a good week

I’ll probably find some solace in Football Manager after this morning’s game; splash on a centre forward like Villa and finish off the thousand odd passes we always make in the opposition’s area.

and i probably wish there were buttons like control, alternate and delete.

a restart offers a new lease of hope or so i would like to think.

Anyhow, i still love you arsenal. Ever so often people urge me to switch allegiance to some other club but i’ll always proudly tell them

I’ll support arsenal even if they get relegated.

I mean it.

But you better not fulfill that.

Thy Joy

It, has crept up on me

like a shadow which sits still no longer.

For my heart can only just so,

rise up, no its weak-  I ponder.

 

The albums were of late

laid with dust so prime, so grey.

The pictures tell of past joy

comforting; come what may.

 

As I seek a path for myself

to adhere and step on, irregardless.

I’m glad you’ve found yours, really

one which truly provides- thy happiness.

THANK YOU

For all who made it possible just by turning up, it was brilliant.

Dempsey; different drinks all. but with a shared continuity, cheers once more.

Prinsep; laugh out loud hilarity and fun. Awesome.

Al azhar; dazed looks and encroaching dreams. with that, contentment seeps in.

It was good. Everything was good.

so, thank you(:

Blemish

I knew then that the world was falling.

Since the trees were already uprooted, and since the flowers were already withering.

Even the book’s front cover read ‘Wuthering Heights’, and the colours that so colour this world decimated into two; black and white.

No longer were there gold, nor silver let alone bronze.

No longer would they sparkle, and leave breathless; the fading horizon.

 

Somehow there seem to be a void,

Somehow there seem to be some truth.

Of poetic justice dished out,

even as the world revolves aloof.

cadabra..

If only things were oh so simple,

made with a snap of two lone fingers.

With a wave of a make believe wand,

what’s left are just memories

which lingers.