Posts After Smoking A Joint: Illusions Of Happiness

Too many people put off something that brings them joy just because they haven't thought about it, don't have it on their schedule, didn't know it was coming, don't care its going to end in a certain way or are too rigid to depart from their routine. 

That's kinda my story for my prolonged absence here but this is not the right time to go there...I'll engage you in something else.

I badly want to believe that sanity is just an illusion to make those who are boring feel better about not being interesting. Errrrm sorry, but I prefer insanity.

Lately, I've been feeling funny. I've been having a bad feeling that lately makes my heart hurt but only just a little. My head aches too like it usually does. I've had this bad feeling before. I felt this same way when I was depressed for a big part of all those years gone by.

I've only been honestly happy for just a little more than 4 years now so I'm not ready to go back yet. There's still so much I have to do and so many things I have to try so I can't go back. It's hard though. I can feel it dragging me back into that imaginary place. Maybe it's missed me since I've been gone. It's falling apart and that's why it wants me back; maybe.

Because I once lived in a town. That's the kind of place I lived in. There used to be an imaginary town mixed right in with the real world and it all blended together. I used to live in a town where I could see everyone from a movie screen and my breath was the only thing that was consistent. 

The town was black and white with small shades of grey and everyone's voices were always so far away because I was the only one with a permanent residence. I didn't love it there but that's precisely where I used to live. 

I'm not ready to go back, not yet at least. I don't think I ever will be either but do I really have a choice? I'm not good at making these kinds of decisions. It's making me sick and smiling can be tiring too. 

It was fun while it lasted. Is that really something I should say? I mean, it's not like I'm back in that town yet, right? Is it not like that yet? Feels like I have something trying to climb back on my shoulders after falling off.

Perhaps it’s my nerves acting up. After all, I haven't been getting much sleep. Maybe I need to get back on my medications for a while. I wonder if there's anything wrong with that.

PS: Don't try to understand this post because you wont

21 Questions

• Do I really look like Pharell Williams or was it pure flattery from her?
• Why is it easy to fall for and feel connected to someone you have never seen and probably will never see?
• Why do you find it hard to tell that person and opt to keep playing the friendship card even when you really know that is not the case?
• Why do friends these days think they have the moral authority to make choices for you no matter how personal they may be to you?
• Am I the only one who thinks Ugandan women have become too predictable?
• Who like me doesn’t want to live to the age beyond which I cannot find my own way to the bathroom for relief anymore?
• Now that I’ve stopped growing taller, why am I not growing any fatter?
• Who still dresses in SAVCO jeans?
• Where have all the good kissers gone?
• When should I start complaining of the loud noises that my neighbours sentence me too deep into the night?
• Does everyone else have to endure mood swings from time to time like I do?
• Where have the rest of the 21 Questions gone?

The One I Never Got To Bid Farewell To

I’m Ugandan. I proudly say so. And I love almost everything that is Ugandan. I really do. But one thing ranks high among the things Ugandan that I’ve grown to dislike and fear at the same time and it’s non other than the roads and the beastly machines that utilise them unsparingly. Hate, because of the clumsiness of the drivers and the poor state of these roads and fear, for how ruthlessly the accidents seek to out do malaria as the chief executioner in this lovable country.

During my senior year, I lost my decker-mate Harold (R.I.P.) in one of those multiple carnages on the damned Masaka Highway. With less than a year left for him to end high school a bright light was rudely put out. I was inconsolable back then. It was like I had lost an arm or two. I still don’t think life has ever been the same without him. It is even more traumatising for me because by the time we parted company, Harold and I had just had a rather bitter argument while playing soccer. He was the goalie and I was the defender, we conceded a rather stupid goal which brought the blame game into play. I like to blame it on the passion we both had for our team. They always happen all over the world. I know.

But we didn’t kiss and make up after. A sad way to end such a friendship!

I also had my own close brush early this year when this stubborn driver of our taxi decided to compete with a fuel truck…….I get cold chills when I tell this story but so you must know, nothing eventually happened. But the old lady sited next to me wasn’t taking anything lightly and in so doing took a dim view of everything when she decided to rain blows and age old insults on the crazed driver. I haven’t even talked about what the extremely frightened passengers donated to the sponge they were seated on.

Now here I am looking at the photos of the game we played in Harold’s memory just over three years ago to this date wishing he would have been around to witness the Queen’s visit. He badly wanted to witness that day. As a piece of considerably consolation, I scored in that game and pointed to the sky, optimistic that Harold was sited up there…and that I was still in his good books.

I miss you Harold.

P.S. I have decided to run a separate blog for my escapedes in a Ugandan lecture room...check it out.