I live in Ntinda somewhere off the new Kyambogo Road, a place called kinyarwanda Zone. perhaps thats explains all the Luganda tainted with a western accent. I take the same route to work every morning, the new Kyambogo road just so I can avoid the moring traffic at the trading centre.

And every morning I see this gal in uniform walking down that road towards Kyambogo. She must be about twelve and the first time I saw her, I thought she looked so happy trotting down the hill.Perhaps she had a nice dream, or maybe she is looking forward to seeing her friends at school that she cant contain herself.

The next morning, I saw her again and she looked just as happy, I smiled to myself thinking good for her. But then I noticed something was kinda odd about this gal, she was definately autistic. suddenly my face fell just a little and there it was, that look of pity. I hated myself for the sinking feeling in my heart. But why should I feel pity for this gal, I have never seen such genuine happiness in my life. Then i realised I was slightly envious, and wondered what it felt like to have no cares in this world. This gal doesnt deserve my pity and I too felt happier than I have been in a long time.

My twin brother passed on last year from complications brought on by acute celebral palsy. A huge part of me died inside but I masked it well ( kinda reminds me of the song "tears of a clown" by Smokie Robinson). I was sad not so much because he passed on but because I thought he had spent his 25 years in total limbo and misery. He seemed happy most of the time but my doubts and anger at God often clouded my vision his happiness. He loved me unconditionally and hated it when I was sad or when someone scolded me. I got away with alot because of this.

I saw the happy gal again this morning and even as I write this, Im constantly blinking to stop the tears from falling. In away I have been set free from my sadness. I know wherever he is, it would still break is immortal heart to have me feeling this way. I dont promise never to cry again because I miss him dearly. But I have the happy gal to remind me, to count my blessing every single day.

Who needs therapy when you have a blog?????

There is alot of soulful music out there but there is nothing Im digging more than Maxwell right now. Yes women do love peotry, it makes them go like,

"oh, thats so sweet"

And sweet is good, but judge your audience cause the kind of girls who like sweet normally dont like Freak. But dare to pull out this soulful piece right here, and you just might get laid. Do not mind me, I have had quite a dry spell. And I think it comes with thinking too much. You meet this guy who looks quite yummy, all the right ingredients and all that is missing is a Marvin Gaye soundtrack. Then that inconsiderate brain starts thinking, rationalising, weighing pros and cons till it thinks you out of what could have been a fantastic night.

I ought to drink more, but I know that will not work as my brain has more life than an energizer battery. So at the risk of passing out and making a fool of myself, I think not.

(there I go again thinking)

If I meet a brotha armed with such soul, I dont think even the SWAT team can stop me.