Is there a queue anywhere? Like at a soft drinks booth? Good! Join the queue. You don’t really have to buy anything. When you reach the end of the queue, just plonk to it’s tail and help elongate it. Sometimes just watching the world burn is what you need after all. I have a penchant for queuing and apologizing, especially when fueled by coffee from a hawker. I’m sorry. … More Sit in a park
Diary entry 12th Feb, 2015 : Just happy I miss being six. Don’t you all guys? Then we had real friends, real toys (we didn’t play around with ladies’ emotions), real presents on NewYear’s and X-Mas (these days I just accept the gifts you peeps tag me on B’Days on FaceBook) and wait, we could … More I miss being six!
I’ve never understood the origin of the word ‘friendzone’. Ok, don’t get it either? Sample this poem: I don’t friendzone people. I relationship zone them. You wanna be my friend? Too bad… We’re dating. Now that’s the weird bit. Daters aren’t friends? What are they? More than just friends? Is there anything closer than a … More Friendzoned? Or just shy?
When someone says the phrase “your worst nightmare”, I automatically conjure an image of my phone falling into the toilet. Yet that really isn’t the worst. You’re busy blowing your rusty trumpet to a chiq in that high-end hole where you normally ditch ‘the brothers’ and hibernate to when something oils your wallet or salary … More Of loudmouthed mobile phone prattlers.
The good thing about Chiromo Campus; there’re numerous trees everywhere. Okay, enough of pretending I love trees so much. I should have said wild fruits. I don’t know the name of these yellow, date-sized fruits but I know they’re sweet. In Chiromo, you’re either crazy or genius. Most times, though, you’re both. And geniuses don’t … More Wild venturing at Chiromo Campus
You tighten that tie and remodel the raspy voice, Full of spirits, you wait as you pat your tummy, You prepare to ooze machismo as if that stuff is trained, Then she doesn’t call, she doesn’t appear, she bounced you. You’d tightened your purse strings just for this, Seems her adrenaline wallowed from the beautiful … More Poem: She bounced you
I know how it is—we all want to be mysterious. None of us want to get hurt. None of us want to look desperate. So we wait to respond to texts, phone calls, emails, Facebook messages, Tweets. So we communicate our emotions in how we end our messages. So we say vague, half-statements and expect … More Let’s tell them before we die…