Dear Lucy

 

Dear Lucy,

dream the dreams
but never ever chase them.

date the frogs
but never ever kiss them.

set the goals
but never ever hit them.

Thank you for your DM. I understand that life can be an expanse of land at the banks of a waterbody.

When I was at campu, I did Bsc. CSC (Bachelor of Science in Computer Science). I was bored in my very first semester and even caught my first retake at its end. During that time, I started to let my mind and hands wander into tinkering of all sorts.

As life went by, I fidgeted, tinkered, and wondered some more. I did Graphics design, Branding of all kinds [Posters, Flyers, Logos, the whole shabang], Website & systems development, Mobile app development [Windows & Android], Illustration, Photography & Video, Audio/Video/Photo editing/retouch/manipulation, and meme creation hahaa! I was a Computer bender of all manners [hardware & software], Phone bender of all manners (had Jailbroken and Unlocked my first iPhone in 1st year), and was the go-to guy for general and specific Consultancy in all these fields.

I eventually got bored with all these things, and continued to search for something that could catch me properly.
Then I landed on animation.
That was when I stood frozen.

I imagined, dreamt, planned, plotted, and sought advice on concepts. The horizons widened and I saw empty fields of possibility ahead of me, awaiting the till, plant, tend, and harvest. And when I beheld all this opportunity, I only saw my inadequacy. I only saw my inability. I only saw the millions of weeds and the tattered scarecrows and the slithering snakes that had made “my” field their abode.

All this flakiness coming from a person that has been self-taught ever since he started the grind?
Yeap.

All this fear coming from a person who has can’t spell the word “impossible” when he’s decided to go after something?
Yeap.

Wharrapened?
Well, all the other things I was doing were the road to this thing my heart wanted.
Now, after finding that thing my heart wanted, they were my happy distractions from it. My way of stalling. Stalling because, what if I try this thing my heart [currently] longs for and I suck balls at it? What if I try and fail? What if I try and get bored after a year or two? And I’m back to square one? What if I’ve been masturbating with a dildo the size of a baby’s leg my whole single life and my husband-to-be has a regular-sized dick?

I feel like I’ve done everything under the sun (I even sold MTN lines at some point in time) and I’m sooo fucking tired at this point, like,

how much more searching must I do,

until I find something I want to do,

that won’t bore me after a year or two?

I’m soooooo fucccckkkiinnngggg tttiiiirreedddd of trying, and yet, there’s this one more thing I must try before I can properly give up on life and Christ.

I guess what I am trying to say is

For the rebellious rebel like myself, and the safe rebel like yourself, it will often seem like we’re slowly sinking in quicksand – Me, limbs flailing and reaching for everything and nothing, and you, having a mental implosion on the other paths you could have tried.

I don’t know if our stories have happy endings, but I heard somewhere that
a problem shared is half-solved.

B out ✌

 

header image source

Happy Bathday

 

So
you wake up and
step out of the bed and
dust crawls to your beautiful feet
It also knows good things when it sees them.

You wrap yourself and head to the shower
and the soap is excited to rub and
the water is excited to run
against your God-beautiful curves
with the joy of a bouncing castle
and the exhilaration of a waterfall

You step out feeling fresh and killin’
and the clothes have this whole time
been scrambling to be in your field of view
when you return to the room
They each desire to be the one you choose
The one you adorn. The one
to compliment a creature this beautiful
to embellish a creation this breath-taking

You leave the room with the sun in tow
and the moon hides under your bed
with the rest of the galaxies because
Today is light. Today is warmth.
Today is joy. Today is love.

You head out into the world
and let the sun soar above the earth
like a kite under your gentle tether
The plants stretch their necks and
the birds sing to you about their dreams
The dust seeks you out and
the winds are envious of your scent

You swing and you sway
with the majesty of parked Range-Rover
the eyes that meet you are refreshed
the feet that stand close by are washed
the arms that bypass are energized
the hearts that beat past are healed
and the sun looks down from on high
to steal glimpses of your beautiful smile.

And in the length and breadth of love
that fills and overflows from you
And in the depth and intensity of life
that drenches and seeps from you
You
You collect a piece of dust here
You collect a piece of dust there

And your papa
He lays you down in his tub
and runs the taps at max
and lathers bubbles in the millions
and refreshes your loving eyes
and washes your loving feet
and energizes your loving arms
and heals your loving heart
and as he smiles a smile of joy, he says

“This is my baby, chosen and marked by my love, delight of my life!”

and that.
that is your bathday.
Happy Bathday, Nanfuka Winfred Gloria.

Bottle v Car Radio

 

Behold, a new year is upon those of us who follow the Gregorian calendar.

I present to you this image below for it will form the rock on which I will build my church post (wait for it to load if your net is iffy).

 

bottle-v-radio-main_color

 

I shall now present to you 10 reasons Bottle is better than the Car Radio:

  1. Bottle doesn’t consume battery power. That means if you stop the engine and use Bottle for extended periods of time, it won’t drain your battery. It’s true innovation!
  2. Bottle doesn’t require nice speakers to function well. Bottle, in fact (this might come as a shocker) doesn’t require speakers AT ALL! Talk about TRUE autonomy. I believe the field of Artificial Intelligence has a leaf or two to pick from this.
  3. Bottle doesn’t need buttons to work. This means the barrier-to-entry into its ecosystem is significantly reduced. Even the illiterate can comfortably use Bottle without second-guessing themselves!
  4. Bottle is portable at all times without compromising its performance. Bottle can be removed from where it lays and towed around by the driver of the vehicle without reducing any aspect of its functionality.
  5. Bottle requires no initial setup fees, equipment, or expertise. Nobody needs an expert to install Bottle in their car. Nobody searches around for extra equipment to connect to Bottle whilst in the car. Nobody has ever gotten charged money for Bottle installation.
    Bottle thinks outside the box. Bottle works right out of the box.
  6. Bottle doesn’t pause working temporarily as you start the car. When you crank your engine, does Bottle stop functioning? Nope! You know who does? Car Radio does. Damned attention seeker, that one!
  7. Bottle is easier (and more affordable) to replace if stolen from the car. In the unfortunate event that your car is broken into, you will probably have to use your teeth to raise the windows and you will definitely need hands to act as temporary indicators. You know what car part won’t break the bank when you start replacing them? That’s right! Bottle.
    You also probably didn’t know this but, Car Radio connived with those thieves to get ‘kidnapped’. Car Radio wanted to see if you would burn down the world searching for it, as a sign of your unending love and devotion.
  8. Bottle doesn’t necessitate you to figure out the labels on it before you can use it. Regardless of whether Bottle has Chinese or English written on it, it can still be used even by the most basic of people. Try working with Car Radio without labels and see how accidents happen as you’re busy looking for the Play button.
  9. Bottle can play well with water. In fact, that’s where it seems to shine! Add liquid to Bottle and enjoy! Add liquid to Car Radio? End of relationship.
  10. Bottle’s first letter, B, comes before both Car Radio’s C and R.

IT’S JUST NOT FAIR!

Here’s some money Rufus,
help me pick Toby’s drugs.
You remember the pharmacy that did his check-up,
last week when he had just returned?
The one near the other petrol station.

But daddy why don’t you send someone else?
I already have plans I’ve made for the day.
I’m meeting an investor at Serena,
he wants to co-fund the apartments’ construction.
I don’t want to be late.

Ruf, you’re the only one in this home who can drive.
You already have the keys to the Forester and the Land Cruiser,
and anyway, the maids are busy making lunch for your brother
and the house keepers are still cleaning his room.
Who do you want me to send, now?

I don’t know.
It’s not my problem.

Rufus, it’s your brother we’re talking about here…

I don’t care, dad!
I don’t care about him and his ma-drugs!
He wouldn’t need ARVs if he hadn’t left in the first place.
He took everything and spent it on whores! Whores!
And then he carries all his diseases back here for us to treat?
See! Even in his sickness, he gets all the attention.

And me? What do I get for running the Kikuubo shops single-handedly?
What do I get for waking up at 3am every Saturday and head to Hoima to check on the farm?
UMEME. Water. Internet. Landscaping. Air Conditioning. The cars.
Even the DSTv that you bought for the maids, I pay for all of it.

I’ve even grown the businesses from when you handed them to me, after Toby took a third of the money – of YOUR money – to go and chase skirts!
I’ve done EVERYTHING you’ve ever asked me. I’ve given you EVERYTHING I have, daddy! EVERYTHING!
And what have I gotten in return? WHAT??
Kyoka Toby comes running back and you bend over backwards for him. And you pamper him. And you spoil him. You even throw a party. A PARTY!!
And me? Heh. Not even a ka-goat for me and my fellowship to roast and celebrate…

Rufus, mwana wange…
My son…
All that I have is yours.
You can celebrate all day if you want.
You are my son.

Originally adapted from this beautiful story.

Food for thought

to my person 😉


I want to massage you with my lips
and you’ll forgive me for being selfish,
because I know it’ll take a longer time
but I want to kiss away your aches


Just like we bask in him everyday
and yet
we never want to leave the overwhelming-ness
of those moments alone with him,
I want you to savor Christ when you take bites of me
and for me to taste him when I sip from you


The same way we talk about Christ
And can’t seem to see end to the thoughts
So we end the sentences with
Joyous sighs, distant grins, and
Knowing gazes,
I want to lay down in your heart’s crevices
I want to wander there through your breath
I want to set up camp in your vocal chords
I want to trek there through your lips


Just like each of us has our own vybe with Christ
With all our quirkiness and weird alike
And yet he is so individual
But still loves to be communal,
I want to paint you with surrender
And let your brush strokes blend with mine
I want us to create a hue of our own
That sways to our rhythm; that adds to our tone


I want to make your heart race,
but slowly
For you to draw your breath from my tongue
To let your heavenly face fold,
To let your sumptuous lips whimper,
In the tempo of our story
unfolding.


We surrender to each other
And wrap ourselves in white flags
We are consumed by the bright glow of
frictional bodies.
difficult muscles.
beautiful bodies.
breathtaking curves.
sensual bodies.
love.


Love’s embrace keeps us together
with a little help from the sticky sweat

Lule

 

Essimu njitadde ku nyonyi
Egende e’bugwa-njuba ob’e’Bunyonyi

Y’emanyi

nze nazze kulaba wange
Mpangaz’erinnya lya Kitange

nazze nteze enyindo, ennimi, n’amatu
nanti bebi yansuubiza omukwano gwa tattoo

Olwo nayatula;

“lubeerera na lubeerera, ngenda kujjuza..
n’otw’otugoye twewesabise ngenda tuyuza!”

Engato nsambe-sambe n’eli
Bebi antambuze ku meeli

Nnengedde amazzi, akamwenyo, n’amasavu
Omutima kwekunyweza nga Kondakita abanj’akasaanvu

Yalabbi!

Emigongo gyaffe gyekunye-kunye
Anti tusimbudde nga ajuz’za kamunye

Enyonta Yaffe k’ekirire ng’ebbeeyi ya whole sale
En’Enjiri ya babili ng’atandika home cell

awo bebi n’ankuba akagambo mu kutu
olwo nange nentyuuniinga omukutu

“sigino zeezo, bebi?”
“weew’awo, bebi!”

okugenda okusiga empeke zange
nga anzukusa ye muganda wange

kiki ekirooto kyange tebakileka kikule
nanti njagala kuyung’ebigambo nga Lule

The one I want.

 

I want – no – NEED approval.
I need to hear someone tell me “I love the style of work you did on that gig!”
I need to hear someone say to me,
“You CAN do this! Remember the other work? It tuned out dope. This will be even doper, men!” (See what I did there?)
“This is chap stuff, Boyd. You gat this! Let’s check out these guys on Insta and see. Your styles seem similar…”
I need someone who’s on my side. Always. For real. Someone who gets the industry and the economy and passion and temptation and frustration and excitement and is intimately versed with these themes so that their opinion is not that generic “You’re great!” or “I know you’ll do an awesome job” shit stuff that (by the way) I can smell from a mile away.
Sidenote: I hate generic compliments.

I need someone who relates with me.
My joys. My struggles. My dreams and my anxieties.
Someone who relates and yet is somehow aware of my ability to accomplish anything, even when I may not be aware of the same.
Someone who will call out that ability, that potential for more, that hunger to scratch an itch I seem to have had even before my conception.
Someone who will bug me when they see me try to chicken out or put scratching that itch on hold.

I want someone who will be with me mpaka, mpaka. Nonstop. Like a DJ was in our things.
I want to be able to hold hands with them forever. At home. In the taxi.
Everywhere. Never mind that it doesn’t ‘make sense’ in ‘real life’. Me, I want.
Sidenote: I like to hold hands.
I want someone who will be with me even when I don’t feel like being with them.
Especially when I don’t feel like being with them. When I just want to be left alone to exercise the futility of my logical and emotional minds.
I want someone who will be there in that nonsense(or is it nuisance? #BrExit) and still be my up-and-up. My joy pill. My fuck-this-lets-open-YouTube suggester when I’m feeling low on that life juice.

I want someone who will sense that I’m low, even when my cheeks have leapt high above my nostrils.
Someone that will see past the emojis and know when my heart is in the freezer even when my thumbs claim to be in the desert.
I want someone who will hug me when I’m feeling vulnerable. Yea, fam, sometimes a ninja feels vulnerable. Ninja gat feels. Relax.
I want someone who will read me like a book. Nothing will be hidden from them; whether or not I’ve offered – or can understand – the clutter in my head and heart.
I want someone who will read my mind. Literally. Someone who will accurately interpret the groans under my breath and know what the width of each smile and the narrowing of my eyes means each and every time.
The one I want will know what I want even when I myself have not the slightest of ideas.

It is quickly evident that this hole I have will never be filled by a woman-being.

 

“If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.” ― C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity