You’re a prince or a jerk, a princess or a witch. You’re seen as either for or against them and must take their side. Don’t dare to defend their enemy or try to justify or explain any slight they claim to have experienced. They may try to bait you into anger, then falsely accuse you of rejecting them, make you doubt reality and your sanity. It’s not unusual for them to cut off friends and relatives who they feel have betrayed them.
BEING HAPPY
by Pope Francis
“You may have defects, be anxious and sometimes live irritated, but do not forget that your life is the greatest enterprise in the world. Only you can prevent it from going into decadence. There are many that need you, admire you and love you.
I would like to remind you that being happy is not having a sky without storms, or roads without accidents, or work without fatigue, or relationships without disappointments.
Being happy is finding strength in forgiveness, hope in one’s battles, security at the stage of fear, love in disagreements.
Being happy is not only to treasure the smile, but that you also reflect on the sadness.
It is not just commemorating the event, but also learning lessons in failures.
It is not just having joy with the applause, but also having joy in anonymity.
Being happy is to recognize that it is worthwhile to live, despite all the challenges, misunderstandings and times of crises.
Being happy is not inevitable fate, but a victory for those who can travel towards it with your own being.
Being happy is to stop being a victim of problems but become an actor in history itself.
It is not only to cross the deserts outside of ourselves, but still more, to be able to find an oasis in the recesses of our soul. It is to thank God every morning for the miracle of life.
Being happy is not being afraid of one’s feelings. It is to know how to talk about ourselves. It is to bear with courage when hearing a “no”. It is to have the security to receive criticism, even if it is unfair. It is to kiss the children, pamper the parents, have poetic moments with friends, even if they have hurt us.
Being happy means allowing the free, happy and simple child inside each of us to live; having the maturity to say, “I was wrong”; having the audacity to say, “forgive me”. It is to have sensitivity in expressing, “I need you”; to have the ability of saying, “I love you.”
So that your life becomes a garden full of opportunities for being happy…
In your spring-time, may you become a lover of joy. In your winter, may you become a friend of wisdom.
And when you go wrong along the way, you start all over again. Thus you will be more passionate about life. And you will find that happiness is not about having a perfect life but about using tears to water tolerance, losses to refine patience, failures to carve serenity, pain to lapidate pleasure, obstacles to open the windows of intelligence.
Never give up …. Never give up on the people you love. Never give up from being happy because life is an incredible show. And you are a special human being!”
– Pope Francis
6/11/2016
Mpenzi wangu Le Sucre,
Habari za kushinda mboni ya jicho langu,
Kukusalimia ni hulka ya Moyo wangu,
Nattamai u buheri wa afya,
Nimekuhata mithili ya nyuki kuhata maua,
Nimehata tabasamu lako ambalo ndio nalipenda zaidi,
Kila mara huwa nalihisi liko mbeleni mwangu,
Kicheko chako ambacho nikisikia moyo wangu unashikwa na furaha,
Huzuni unishika kwa kuwa muda mwingi uko mbali,
Kabla nisahau wape salamu zangu baa mweke na mashemeji,
Leo nimeona nikuandikie arafa kwa kiswahili,
Manake nimekaa huku uswahilini kwa mda,
Nimeona ni bora nitumie lugha ya wahenga,
Kiswahili kigumu lakini bidii ya mchwa ntatia,
Nachukua hatua, ila wenyeji bado wananikejeli,
Si heri kusema ninakengeuka, bali ninajifunza mambo fasaha mawili, matatu,
La kwanza la husu Ustaarabu,
Ustaarabu ya uswahilini umenivutia kweli,
Kila niendapo natahamaki na jinsi watu wanavyo jibeba,
Maneno ya ukariimu,
Maadili na desturi za kistaarabu,
Heshma inayo sisimua roho,
Wabaki tu umesema MashaAllah,
La pili ni kuhusu mapenzi na uhusiano ya wapendanao,
Mapenzi yetu ipo Imara, ila yastahili kuimarika zaidi,
Nipe fursa na ruhusa niangalia ndani ya moyo wako,
Nipe fursa nione uchi wako,
Uchi wa mafikira na uwoga zote unazo,
Ili niweze kukuonyesha vile nakupenda,
Utakuta hakuna kitu cha kuficha ,
Pengine wataka kuficha kwa sababu ni wajibu wa kila mtu katika maisha yake,
Lakini nakusihi usiwe na ngao ukiwa na mimi,
Wajua linapokuja suala la kupendana basi mambo ya kuficha hakuna tena,
Kama una uhakika kuhusu uhusiano wako.
La Tatu la husu ndoa,
Unapopata tajriba hii, basi ushakamilisha nusu ya dini,
Nimeshapiga mbiu ya mgambo,
Kuwaeleza wazazi kuwa nishapata jiko,
Wiki ijayo, Majaaliwa, twaja kutoa posa,
Familia yako ni wandani wetu wa karibu,
Tuna matumaini hakuta kuwa na hamnazo mengi,
Mahari tukisha lipa, mimi na we tuanze safari mpya,
Kuanzia hapo mimi na wewe mpaka milele,
Kwenye mabonde twende , baharini tuogelee hata hewani tutapaa .
Tukisubiri hayo nakusihii uchukuwe mda wako ufikirie,
Kama la wezekana tutafte ajira huku mombasa,
Kando na kupunguza gharama, ningefurahia kuishi nawe,
Naamini utafurahia huku, jiji la waisilamu tele,
Maadili ya wakaazi ni za kuvutia,
Nidhamu na desturi zao, watoto wetu pia wazipokee.
Uwa napata furaha sana kila ninapopata wasaa wa kukuandikia mpenzi,
Kikomo naishia hapa, mwisho wa barua moja ndio mwanzo wa barua nyingine nzuri na bora zaidi , kwahiyo usijali sana mrembo wangu,
Nakupenda sana mwandani wangu
Al Pacino
“When you love how does it feel and when you desire how is it different?” These were the questions at the centre of her exploration on the nature of erotic desires in her mind.For one hour she’d been reading notes on Taxation for her upcoming exams. She retained none of it. Giving up the pretense of reading, she left the desk and began slowly walking the width of the room. It was a bright and airy office on the second floor of an established neighborhood. It had been done well, screaming a character and charm of a senior occupant. Louvered shatters were closed, there were blinds over the wide windows and dim of natural sunlight. The heavy red carpet on the floor highlighted reservation for the elite. It was designated as an office only by the desk and and a pile of books concealed in an eight foot tall shelf of inbuilt wardrobes.
The pacing only drew her deep into the memories the office presented. She found herself turned on by the same thing she demonstrated against the last time she was with him. Her erotic mind wasn’t that politically correct. She returned to the desk, reclined in it. As she sat down she adjusted the AC on the wall and sunk into the executive chair slowly closing her eyes as she reminisced. If nothing else she hoped it would slow her down enough to make her admit to the limitations of her mind and body.
As her agitation gradually abated, her thoughts drifted back to that day with him at this same office. She drifted into an erotic space where she didnt care about being a good citizen, taking care of things or being responsible. The responsibility and fear of vulnerability hid in her mind a host of erotic desires she didn’t know how to bring to him. This undermined her ability to get connected with her erotic self in his presence.
She remembered how he kissed her deeply and ardently until they were breathless. Reaching down on her, he left his hand there for several seconds, giving her time to protest, giving her time to say, “No! Not Now, Not today” When she didn’t, he dug his hands deeper into her pants and with the merest pressure, he brought her gasping for her breath. She looked at the slow movement at his hips and in the motion saw the same unspoken, desperate longing she felt.
Her breast were lovely, he took the weight of one in his palms, brushed his thumb across the nipple until it was very stiff, then caressing it with his tongue. When he drew it into his mouth, she arched her back and whimpered with pleasure.
She gave a low moan and pounced on him hungrily, pressing her open mouth against his neck, pinning him to the wall. She kissed him wildly, recklessly, with abandon and without finesse. She reached for his belt and fly. She brought all her years of erotic mental foreplay to that moment. His jeans were tight but she managed to pull them down as far as his knees and in one fluid thrust she had buried his shaft in her mouth. It was a perfect contact. Silky and wet and sweet. Intense. Very sexy. She wrapped her hands around his organ and stroked as she sucked him dry as much with her mind as with her mouth.
Thinking about what she was doing, knowing that she was fulfilling his wildest desires made her burn. Her angle was perfect. With each thrust, she grazed the erogenous spot of his orgasm. And when he came it was crashing.
For what seemed endless minutes he clung to the edge of the desk, cautiously controlling his rather loud breathing, his body giving off incredible heat. She placed her fingers lengthwise over his lips, staring deep in his eyes she whispered “You must have me” unwilling to wait another minute to lie down with him.
Naked now, she modestly lay back with her thighs closed. He leaned down and gently teasing until her thighs relaxed. It was she who drew her knees back and tugged on his head until he was lying on top of her and he was deep inside her. It was unhurried, more emotional than passionate.
She was savoring each sensation when she was brought to the present by her ringing phone. She answered her cell on the third ring. Answering into the mouthpiece she said “I will be right there!!” She held the phone to her ear for another thirty seconds before setting it down. She didn’t want to leave the office just yet. Her heart stopped before shattering into a dangerously rapid beat. She reassured herself it was all her imagination. She sat there on the chair letting the cold AC air eddy around her as she bit her lips and smiled. Her crises of desire was just a crises of her imagination. She had cracked the mystery of eroticism.
Al Pacino
Only once in your life, you find someone who can completely turn your world around. You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more. Memories of your childhood come back and are so clear and vivid it’s like being young again.
Like everyone in the early 2000 She lived in a extrovert-rich society. Everywhere she went, everything she did the ideal of extraversion thrived. Schools teached her from the moment she enrolled that she needed to involve herself in group activities and that to succeed in this modern society she needed to be bold, loud, and “grab life by the proverbials.” They taught her people love the rain but like everything she was taught, it was confusing. It puzzled her, why they used an umbrella to walk under it.
“I think I did love her”. He whispered. “It’s been years and I still think it’s her”. He looked out the window, his phone gently held onto his ear by the shoulder and stared at the rain that fell in sync with his closing eyelids. “It was the best thing I ever felt. I think that was love”. He didn’t believe in the idea of soul mates. But he believed he was lucky he met her and they were right for each other. Not because he was perfect or she was perfect but because their combined flaws were arranged in a way that allowed two separate beings to hinge together. Because he didn’t look at her with butterflies and happiness, he looked at her with reality but at the same time with a fairy tale awaiting them.
Back in the days they used to see each other a lot, but neither ever proclaimed their love beyond the flirtatious cliche gazes. In this world overtaken by social media I guess you could say ‘He was online, She was online and so was their ego.’ She wanted to be with him but for some reasons she just couldn’t. Did she miss him? She wanted to lose herself in him. To tie her arms around him like a tourniquet.
She was self conscious and didn’t trust anyone and she hated that. Whenever he tells her how he feels and how beautiful she is, she second guesses it and thinks they’re only words. Who could blame her, it’s all she’ve ever known when it comes to relationships from the countless hours glued to the screen watching T.V series. This sadly resulting in the fact she was nowhere close to opening up about how she feels and letting her guard down. It was more comfortable this way. She didn’t realize love isn’t supposed to be “comfortable”, It was more of taking chances and risking a little. It was exhausting to live this way. It made her cynical, suspicious, and unable to follow her heart because she was afraid of what might happen. She wondered what exactly was she protecting herself from when all her walls were up. It sure had permeate her everyday interactions with him. For starters when her barriers are up, their lives did become needlessly limited.
Often she believed that she’d risk too much by being vulnerable, but, in fact, to him the opposite was true. For him trying to break through the walls she had built came with what seemed like an ocean of tears amidst confusion, but gradually the light started to creep in. “Open me up 😜😜😜 or at least try” she texted him one late evening. She had admittedly, skeptical at first allowed him onto the first couple pages. She ought to be more than just a cover. Like Orpheus going into the underworld, He took his own path downward and became fascinatingly consumed with the beauty that lay behind her beautiful mind.
In his latest writing “Le Sucre, Lift your chin, Your Tiara is falling” He was able to capture a reflection of her own confused and sometimes harsh approach to deep longing, She came face to face with the pain of her erected walls, her choices, and her own cruel, utter rejection of being vulnerable. And just like that, her heart shattered into a thousand pieces.
They could never have shared such depth of love if she hadn’t had the courage to knock the protective wall she had built up. Because she was so happy now, her joy makes her very aware of all that she could have been missing, had she let any of the big, bad fears stop her.
Al Pacino
He had been trying to think of what might be a good way to make her smile. She likes his writing but his puzzling fears knew sooner or later she was going to get bored. That was the very vague genesis of how he read her his diary.
“Sometimes, when i am in a funk, i make a list of things i like about her and every time my list is extraordinarily specific. I love her. This morning i began wondering how my uncommunicative nature had made me so selfish with my thoughts. I have convinced myself that i may be silent but my heart will deafen her for far too long. She is always on my mind, occupying my thoughts from day to night. As much as i silently love her i know it is more emotionally evocative to say that with words and action. So I guess she will be hearing from me from time to time”
Date: 5th /November /Sometimes back
Al Pacino
In a land far away, long, long ago in the aftermath of the fall of one of the legendary borana leaders C.G Mokku and before the town was filled with new faces, he found himself intensely, not to say hopelessly fascinated by and attracted to this girl. He was blown away by her smarts, her thoughtful approach to things, that cool, chilled out, composed and in a way detached manner with which she carries herself and yet there’s kindness and those moments when there’s something quite caring and gentle that shines through all that coolness. He also got a sense that there’s depth and intensity about her and he was aware that part of his perception might be just his projections and wishful thinking. Overall, he found her incredibly attractive inside and out. He never felt such an intense connection and understanding with someone.
That strong fascination and attraction unfortunately made him feel all shy and couldn’t bring himself to ask her out. He didn’t know if the interest was mutual. It would be easier for him to pluck up courage and initiate something if he felt more confident his interest is reciprocated. He had noted that she was somewhat fidgety and kind of tense when they interacted, but he never felt it was evidence enough to pluck up his courage and make a move. Besides, he felt very nervous himself. He knew that she thinks highly of him as far as competence and intelligence are concerned but no other data, and he didn’t have any mutual friends to get some intel from. He was aware that he had been overthinking it for way too long, but it was so difficult to get her out of his head. At 13 it felt very surreal to actually feel attracted to someone romantically.
I guess it didn’t help that he can seem quite confident, in general, and he was except for when that kind of attraction made him feel weak in the knees. It was just not something that was easily observable for others. Like the hundred times he felt his heart literally at his mouth when he sneakily went to her house hoping she was alone. But what he didn’t realize was she was like him and found it difficult to initiate, it was a bit of a stalemate. She seemed only lukewarm toward him, so he tried getting her friends attracted to him without the risk of becoming too aloof. He wanted to make her feel that bite of envy when he receives attention from other girls. All the features of this fascinating subject really derives from the shenanigans that he played on her unsuspecting friends.
Five years on he still felt weirdly excited about her, but quickly brushed the thought out of his mind. That wasn’t the only time he was confused by the things she made him feel. He had dated other girls before, but his feelings toward her felt different, more intense. His diary, which was mostly him complaining about life, increasingly became about her. He would write about how upset he was with himself that he didn’t try hard enough to get her or how much he hated she didn’t show her emotions more vividly. He felt like he should let go of his physical attraction to her but whenever she’d hug him it felt different, in a good way, and he would crave the rare times when she’d show any type of physical affection toward him. Most of the time we want to grow close to people who have the same values and beliefs, or people who have qualities that we admire. This is something that experts call consensual validation. It means that we seek out people who mirror who we are as a way of reaffirming our values, beliefs, actions, and opinions. And in her he saw the woman he wished his daughter’s would grow up to become. There was no one he would rather have raise his children other than her.
They gazed from afar busy with their lives, with polite smiles, until one day, they began having awkward exchanges with drawn-out pauses. Somehow, they each found a remnant of themselves in the other. They soon embarked on a beautiful introverted romance. It was an affair marked by deep conversations, simple pleasures and exhilarating little monster moments. It wasn’t too fast, or too slow, or too loud, or too quiet; it was just right.
Al Pacino
You miss me you say,
And I miss you everyday,
Being with you is like a miracle play,
Sometimes I wish we could sneak away,
We take my old van and just ride away,
One weekend On a romantic get away,
Al hug u en kiss you all the way,
Remember Oldoiyo lengai, in a similar way,
Fulfil ur dirtiest fantasies without delay,
But hey 😜 what are they??
I was at the beach showing my muscle,
Feeling the heat I started to bubble,
One, two, three my mind started to juggle,
I was in a wonderland without my troubles,
Opening her mouth we started to cuddle,
Kissing and caressing then came the huddle,
Sliding my hand in her pants, I knew I was in trouble,
For her sex was unarguable,
Feeling the breeze, I wanted to slap her,
Damn it’s just a dream, and she is still untamable 😜
Al Pacino
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