Wandering thoughts
Sometimes he wonders why she cries all by herself, especially when it rains- looking at the clear drops sliding down her window. He can see the tears falling in unison with the raindrops on her window...why?
Why is she still lonely, when he is there?
...

Sometimes he sits and ponders on her words-
What do they mean?
She says them with such joy that they ought to be true,yet they don't sound true.
He has a volcano of emotion in his chest which he tries hard to control lest she
think he's too desperate, too scared to think that it will vanish like a vapour. Why is he still lonely when she is there?
...


Onto other things
When to say the F word!

When you realise that wasn't powdered milk in your cup...
When the brake fails on a steep slope ...
When you enter the interview room and realise you did not brush your hair...
When you send the "I miss you " letter to a wrong phone number (her best friend's)...
When you have spent your last money to get to Kabale and remember she said Mbale.

Always a perfect time to say Father!!

Great week.

I present to you hers and my purple rain: ourpurplerain.

Have fun reading.

If you're like me, then you know that it is indeed possible to go one entire night living in a parallel universe. In this universe you are 39 and married to a beautiful woman with three kids-two boys and a girl, living in England. You own a studio flat and a big flat from where you get some income in addition to having equity shares.

You are learning how to sail as well as playing golf and taking part in quiz games once in a while.

Not only that, you make trips to several countries, especially when the Premiership is over and watch international matches being played by Brazil.

But it's not that sweet you know, because your schedule can become very tight especially with your bosses breathing down your neck to deliver results. They have provided the cash and now it is up to you to start making the gold.

However, the bosses are not your only problem. You have your subordinates who you should train and motivate well so that they can give you good results. Their hard work is a must for you to deliver the results needed by the boss. They are not the only ones whose pressure you must deal with though; there are the consumers who demand the highest quality because as a matter of fact they pay whatever you ask for your goods and services.

You rarely rest because you are there personally supervising the production of the goods, giving instructions, correcting, motivating the workers, criticising some, praising etc

However, when the result of your hard work is good and excellent, you are refreshed with delight, a bonus to the cheque that goes promptly into your bank account.

Your peers in rival companies sometimes try to distract your work saying bad things about your style of work, your ethics and the like but you stay focused and keep delivering. Other companies' bosses tempt you at times with big offers, promising you all the resources you need- you almost accepted once but then changed your mind.

Yes some of your best workers have gone but your determination and style has never changed. Your spirit is steadfast.

This post could easily have been about Arsene Wenger but truth of the matter is, it's about Jackson Muwanguzi, the Manager of Arsenal football club and Brazil on my EA SPORTS FIFA 09 Manager.

He is why I didn't sleep the other night.

This is from http://www.oddee.com/item_96623.aspx



The Casket Furniture Company designed a bed for those who wants to know the feeling of sleeping in a coffin. According to their site, this ‘long awaited' item can be yours for only a little over $4,000. It’s constructed of Solid Pine with a removable top and bottom and adorned with a handmade metal cross and gothic pall bearer handles. Finished with an ebony stain and lacquer with a burgandy velvet interior. Disturbingly, their site also indicated ‘locks and latches' are available at an added price.


I died!....

I wished at some point that we would see Ashton Kutcher appearing on all screens broadcasting the service, and say "You've been punk'd- the King ain't dead- this is the curtain raiser for the 50 concerts..." but we never did see that.

Or that it would go dark, and the casket would open and out the King of Pop would emerge to give fans a preview of the O2 concerts, but alas, it never happened.

Tears were mixing, some of joy and some of grief, all in all, tears wear flowing.

I watched the last rehearsal at the Staples Center and denied this man was dead. No, it could not be. He was the King... it was his final act, and after that he would go in peace. But nay, his final act never came.

He looked so alive, so dedicated, so passionate, so full, he was still excellent at 50.

I still can't imagine he's no more...

Been trying to download some of my favourite tracks of the legend, to try and keep a piece of him with me, but they are only images...I sense he is truly gone.

In his respect I thus write this poem:

Never get Used to

We must never get used to the day
Lest the evening comes, and the sun goes away;
When we bemoan the unfriendly silver moon
Whose light is not as warm as yellow sun.

We must never get used to the sun
Les the clouds come and darken the terrain;
When we scatter from the piss of the sky
Unable to smile or laugh but only to sigh.

For if night fell and none was prepared
No candles or lamps or handy flares,
Then cold and dark and deep despair
Would rise and hold us in his lair.

And rain would fall upon our heads
And wet our flour and wet our bread,
Washing all we treasure away-
Dust to mud, ashes to clay.

So when our Michael goes today
Leaving his gold and toys of play,
We must hope the sun does set
To rise and shine in glory yet.

But one Sun in your life remain
Perfect LORD, of ancient days,
Affix your gaze to Him alone
And reap of joy and peace unknown.

Nice Wednesday

Bless.

There's a new lady that brings lunch for me and is she interesting. Me and the one who used to bring lunch jazz in Luganda so no one had a problem. So me I speak Luganda coz I'm comfortable with it and I speak it with whoever I am sure is comfortable with it. So this lady comes; one look at her and I am sure she can speak the language. Not only that the one who used to bring the food has brought her for introductions- she will be taking over. Me I delve right into my Luganda and guess what, she turns to English! Hmm? Odd! Why speak English when Luganda is obviously easier. For you. I first heed and speak with her in English but after some time go back to Lugy. No sooner have I spoken two phrases atleast than she interjects in English! Eh eh...laba omuwala!

Anyway, that is the least of my week's crazy moments. Nga I declare Tuesday evening Transformers' night at cineplex. I even call my ka friend mbu I take her out for a movie. I hooked up with Safyre and headed to Garden City. All was well because I had planned 12k expense, and if any further-20k. So we head to the box office and guess what...mbu due to restrictions, half price won't apply to Transformers! Ayii!! Should I go back? But the ka-friend is coming. I can't turn movie plot into evening walk plot. Thank God I moved with Safyre and atm otherwise....

This question is directed to all the ladies.Is it true that when a guy asks you out you decide mbu he has fallen for you? There's this chick giving me headaches.