The mystery of death and a possibility to be the lucky passenger

Back to the thoughts, the disciplined thoughts, the kind that people hear you speak out and then they say you are crazy or they don’t say it but they think it, yes such kind of thoughts, and the fact that they often visit me to the extent that i have to write them down,so this is me lost in there and letting it out to at-least be free, so lets take a swing in search of this freedom search together.

Question; What if you knew the time, the day, the hour damn even the exact second to destination bucket kick?

I wonder how it would feel. Would it be scary? so scary or just scary? would it be exciting? so exciting that you would miss it like you wait for a trip? or just exciting but less thrilling? The only problem to this line of thought is that those who know the answer never made it back to explain the feeling and so i wonder, i just do. I wonder why the creator(if you believe in one) or whoever started life never revealed the secret to this mystery.

Comparing this to the other one about life could never drift far away from each other, its like heaven and earth or first and third world with one benefiting 100% from exploiting the other while the other tireless produces to provide sustenance to the next without leaping benefits-Yes!that wide, far like love in silence or away from one another like a world i knew and one that i live in, this far. Well in short i mean we know the day even better, the hour, nine months before birth, science has away of cracking such nuts, it so does this with this convenience that a good scientist can calculate such a time from the moment you smile at each other to the coffee date to the wine that follows to the bed at your or he place to the confidence build after several times like this to the serious steps thereafter and the swim taken by the sperms as they fight the first man standing duel which ends up with only the one lucky or strong or clever buddy giving life a chance, and from this day to that big mourning, yelling and shouting free day in hospital nine months from this day can be captured in numerals.

(complicated? well i am not thinking about that back to the mystery) In short i wanted to just say the secret of life and conception is a well known one but not that of death. but why? Why is it so unknown yet it affects us in an inconceivable way? It ails us though it brings a balance in life, it has a way of a clouding grief that surrounds it and follows it around wherever it walks like a shadow-though its itself so shadowy.

And so, i wonder if knowing this would make me more active in life or more lazy-i must point out i am both at different times, i don’t know about you. Lazy because the fearing that there is no reason to be active would shadow every active thought in my mind and force it to think of sunny sandy beaches or more active to beat deadlines before kicking the bucket which sounds fun but its sure as hell is scary. Speaking of deadlines, this would be the real one right?

So one would replace the To do list with the Bucket list, stuff i would put there would be damn crazy like having ice-cream at point Lenana (Mt Kenya’s pinnacle) as i watch the legendary Gikuyu shrine where Mumbi got her nine but ten daughters with Gikuyu and Mugai was the only witness-that Gikuyu had muscles is not a joke nine plus not a joke! That he enjoyed a life of abundance is not a lie and that he sleeplessly looked for a son who he never got is the icing of the stressful cake that his children’s children would all share a piece of even from as far as overseas.

So what would such knowledge do to me or you, to mankind? would it bring fear and more of it or would it actually bring some understanding on things that we have no idea about? so sitting here in this bus bound for Frankfurt A.M next to a hot looking chick and all this time i am wondering about the irrelevance of a mystery that brings no good even when solved. Damn! what happened to the days when nice protruding nipples meant think about sweet lines Mejja?? And so i choose life but first a wonderful strategy would save the day!

For starters, i could open this mouth of mine and start a conversation, i am good at that, words roll down easy but i need to take a breath, a deep one-this could be a chance at this new slate i have been searching for, maybe she could enjoy this jokes that have away of filling my head when uncalled for but normally i just keep my cool and speak non issues but better than Peatro my friend who often speaks about weather and eyes that are as blue as the waters of the oceans ha! Maybe this beauty with a beauty mark on her lower lip and the beautiful spark on the thrilling dimpled cheeks just makes poetry smoke out of my lungs, maybe this beauty queen would  make a wonderful Mumbi and out of this, perhaps the boy from kikuyu highlands would grow to be called a man- with a family tag, all but too many maybes and perhaps! and all without word-total poppycock! say a word! speak n****!

Wait! The bracelet on my hand? she is looking at it. damn she is damn seriously looking at it and now i know where to start-the bracelet! and to explain why the beaded beautiful bracelet represent a culture from where i come from-not mine though but a love culture! yes! She looks so mesmerized! I wonder if its the bracelet or the idea that the nigga next door can actually write or maybe the trance she is in is about the fact that he was able to buy a ticket online and get on board a bus-with such stuff you never know?

The story about me swimming in river kanyiriri as a child-which never was, but was actually a stream, a very shallow stream where the only way you could drown is if you fell from the sky and your parachute never opened then you landed there dead and the water covered your face so the people say you drowned. So now that i can swim and not drown in a stream that i will call a river in my story lets start the talk girl! just bring it on!

Too much for rivers, drowning and swimming both in air and water! Back to the bus, here sits a chick still besides me and yes this one must have been born on a friday evening when God was preparing to go for a dance, that he gave her a body that could move is not a joke and an ass that could shake is not a lie-and now i am glued to it but wait this is not a good idea! she looks so Chiqitita! You know Chiqitita? The beauty that Aba sung about? yes that one, but a modern day chiquitita not her old granny whose topic was a hit song by the duo. So for chiquitita what do you have my creative mind?..and softly my creative cells sound-punchline after punchline and so i turn and talk!she smile a fresh start in this otherwise dull drive along the free way in a less than deserving speed but by the smile she has, there would be nothing better than a traffic jam all the way, i wish for it to come and bless my night!

i feel good already someone send me some traffic jam and this is to my creator-please if this girl is hiding a sledge hammer below her laps to one day strike me down, to one moment, after the heavenly time we stand to make, break the core of my heart, to break it down into small pieces that i would stand crushed for moments without an end-please i beg, don’t let that happen, the previous ones should be enough to pay the debt that as a man one has to suffer, i am ready to suffer round two of anything else but not this, and so it is with great humility that i look so forward to a great new slate with this optimism that blinds bad luck in the  world!

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