i am black and outnumbered by minority syndrome, "what good can come out of a black man", living free in a foreign country full of white people without feeling like a low class, a good for nothing and unwanted omen. can i love a white lady freely without having to explain the reason why i am black and what my cultural and savings backgrounds and value are. i guess the world is complex

The mind has conspired to work against the heart and the body against the right spirit, what is right to the heart will be corrupted by the mind before landing. the work of the good spirit being counterfeited by the body's evil lusts. What is truth will become lies before arrogance and ignorance. what is wrong will seems right to the eye, what is bad seems good to many eyelids and with burning uncooth spirits their mouths supports. nothing but us will help us change. let them with ears listen and let them with understanding comprehend the sum of this matter.

This second you are alive and the next second, you will die, grace period is served as long as the breath of life dingles beneath your nostrils. The sum of the matter will be known soon, how you have lived this borrowed life, in gossip, in lies, uncaring, unloving, unforgiving, unsupportful, unholy, covetous, lustful, murderer, hateful, tribalistic, racist.

the summation of our deeds will soon be discovered for they are the sum of the whole matter.

what you have not felt firsthand or don't know, can be a myth, a feeling you have never experienced. what will your actions dictate, what if hell is for real and what if heaven is for real.One thing is for sure everyone will have an experience in this matter, every soul will dim and go cold as light gives up and darkness prevails. You will stand alone for the sum of the matter will reflect your life.

Like a closed door, never opened curiousity burns within us but so is life on our side and death the other side of the door, the ones who have dared open and get inside have never come back to tell us what is on the other side of the door. My speculating calculations have lead me in a path narrow and few tread on it. Self denial of what seems good to many, fear of the the outcomes of the other side of life. doing good without pretending. staying away from many things that have alot of value. on the narrow path sharing even when it is the last drop, corforting one another and being brethrens of each other. if a camel, a camel can go through the eye of a needle then imagine how hard it is to tread on this narrow path. living a controlled life, life within a predefined perspective. The sum of the matter will soon be known. what will the sum of your matther be ?

Life Keeps changing dynamically,

time is on a fast lane switching hands dynamically,

old habits dying hard others sprouting dynamically,

the days of the analog have flipped phases dynamically,

clocking in the digital age, controlling things dynamically.

Knowledge has increase, the head sickly spins around dynamically,

companies dying, ideas ressurecting, reinstating careers perppetually,

young minds running confusiously wild and fast, ending up in rehab sadly,

get up and get healed at lightning speed, sprout up a new leave embracing change radilly.

They sat and let time zoom and voom by them, comfort crouching and consuming them like rust on a steel rode, Now they forty years and suddenly a loud wakening call like the morning bells of the catholics or the mourning of the islam sharia, calling for prayer. They develope a question, "IS IT TOO LATE TO START? CAN I MAKE? WHAT SHALL I DO? I AM OLD". for those of you out there who have no answer, rent me your eyes, i wont be staying long.

Never give up and it is always never too late to begin or start anything. Every new start of anything is a new begining for something. i say thats a good spirit you have there, asking the right questions, you are not a quiter for sure. the world might look at you differently but have a joyful spirit not because you want to be a billionaire or millionaire but because that which you have set your heart to do brings Joy in your heart. there are many jobs that look for mature people young people can’t handle. Trust me you are in the right path of thinking. Go be young Learn Live up in a youthful spirit. We only live once. If the world blames you for trying let them but let it be known in your heart that you tried and gave it all you had. thats my thinking and spirit for you SIR/Madam. i am closing the door on my way out as i promised, i am just a passaby, not staying for long.

The toughest journey any life would want to undertake is to be a christian. Breaking habits and reshaping character, believing in that which cannot be seen by the naked eye not even with the help of a microscope. Walking on the narrow thread of faith believing in the unseen God. Trusting that every good thing comes from God yet facing soo much aches and pains but still believing. I have walked through life with the Ungodly and the Godly, what amazes me is that everyone is a a believer and a christian in their own context. Wishing that evil will vanish and good reign is Godly and christian like. Being faithful to a spouse is Godly and christian like, respecting our parents and heading to their advice is Godly and christian like.How then are you not a christian? Chanting Oh my God when you are about to crush is Godly and christian like. When the worst thing you fear is to belive in God and yet when hospitalized and left with a minute would not mind astray pastor to pray for you, that is Godly and christian like.When you think doing good to your fellow man regardless of age, gender, color, race that is Godly and christian like. I am a christian and not even death can change that.

When is a man allowed to forget about his lady

i have had a vision, so corroded and rusty,

upon the back of my head, quietly sits the oblongata.

spinning thoughts and allusions, dreams and nightmares,

my brain decides to spoil me with a nightmare, not long ago

i was holding you close to me because you were my beloved,

they say shades of yellonin and melanin that is black and white human. Your skin and mine was like day and night walking together under the canopy of the bright yellow sheets. i held you close to me insecurely and overprotectively like a fireman's suite or the marines jump suite. i was sure i was not going to let go at least not without a fight. Slumber is a warrior that conquers even lions the king of the jungle. Everyone falls by its visitation and devourment. Tranquility and dead silence that is its playground.

i lay there miserable, unconscious, with my hands together at a praying position between my thighs, a lost memory of my sweet lady sleepy head, i lost time, i lost memory and i lost energy, so i let go and turned and spinned, i was alone. at 3 a.m an arrow of crispy cold chill was shot through a small pop on the windows hinges, like the first drop of snowflake upon a leave, i shivered helplessly because innovation does not settle on a sleepy mind.

Thank God i did not wish my lady goodnight and though tomorrow holds uncertain mystery, i wish to hear from you but as for now may your night be calm, as the distance vastness of miles keeps us apart that is so even to the men that sleep with their ladies on the same bed too close yet too far.

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Rumbling slow feet trying to play catch with the shadows of the forest cover, clinging to me with a single hand tipi-toe, tipi-toe, tipi-toe, every woman hastily dashing forward. Heading to the forest for safety.

My mum and I could not count the blessing of that day, a rebel’s bullet thirsty for innocent blood, came whizzing and cutting through the dense air in the open field between the small town of ojwangla and the dense sanjwang forest, it was with purpose and determination to settle the matter of greed for power and oil between brothers of one kind or to forever tear the rift between two communities. A bouncing ball had mastered a swifter landing trick and retaliates with a breaking force. I wish I had the wisdom and knowledge of a bouncing ball, the dropping was hard and sloppy and the fall was great.

The cracks of the ground from the scorching African sun cut through my flesh as I was toasted a distance from where my mum landed. It caught up with her, oooh that killer’s bullet, finally accomplished its task. She tried to speak to me but the pain had tightened the grip of its snares, she stretched her hand that had run out of comfort and waved goodbye to her son. We had not eaten for 5 days, I had no tears and reason to be sad for death was an unbiased gift upon everyone’s hands. My kneck swelled like a cobra’s stunt, bitter yet numbing around my kneck.

I dropped unconscious there a distance from the greatest lady I had ever met. I waited for my turn and wished that my turn had found pace triple like the bullet from the rebel’s sub-machine gun straight to me. I wanted it to be quick, my wishes had left me and I could never ride on them. We were picked by lucky women who came for us at dusk, Crawling under the canopy of the bright light of the moon. I was alive and life was soo unfair.

The bitter hubs of the forest produced remedy oooh that agonizing juice a boost for weak little boys like me , energy found me and soo I raised and sat; ma-ma, ma-ma, I called. Tears long awaited for like the rains in the droughts of the cradle of Africa was right on time. They had left her for the wild animals to eat her. Being small is a disadvantage in a vast nature, they overpowered me as I tried to make several attempts to go bring the soulless body of my mother.