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a very very
beautiful woman |
Time marches on never ending, and time keeps its own time. sometimes time is fast. other times its slow. it really depends with the occasion. Nothing really rushes time like being in the company of a very beautiful woman who makes you feel wobbly bonkers. You see, I'm right, well almost. time also is slow when you're in the elevator and out of the blue moon you let free some odour that could decapacitate a dead goliath. You smile at yourself because you're alone. Then it(the elevator not odour) stops at the next floor and an amicably dressed lass walks in. Even her strong perfume is no match. the door closes so fast and she vigorously tries to press the button to open up the now small nuclear gas station. That birdie has been caged. you can't smile. you're not supposed to.you try to think up an excuse like you found a dead rat in the elevator, but even you knows that it would smell better. so you play along and hold your nose. but gat dammit, the smell creeps in through your ears and you can feel it poking your brain. Time is fast when you have no classes on Thursday. because you wake up and realise it almost past noon and that's half a day you've spent in bed. You wake up and do your routine yoga exercise, with your mouth. You let out a horrific yawn and when your mouth shuts its already eight in the night. time is slowest when you attend a lecture of polish law. you are certain that you know polish but the lecture just can't help it but speak greek. Of course you can't stand up and leave the lecture theatre to go feed your puppies. Not when you are the only one in the whole university with chocolate skin. not when your note book is as empty as George bush's head. you're so conspicuous that you fear touching the back of your head, you can feel the all the eyes burning your back that you fear your skull gave in and you might touch the brain. I'd fancy touching my brain, just to rub some memories..but you don't want to risk that knowing where your hands were last. they were picking the nose. some of you might need to rub your dirty minds as well.
if i would touch my brain i wouldn't mind sticking the lyrics to this
song. i am tired of humming along. But I'm content. I am enjoying my time and nothing would eclipse this moment. My university rocks stones. well apart from when you sit in a maths class with a blonde who's out-shining you. then you shrug it off and tell yourself she probably dyed her hair. but deep down you know that ain't true. sometimes you wish you would hibernate, and wake up on tuesday and friday. because its only then that you have your sole english class in four years. taught by a jolly chap from old blighty. and boy is he funny. i can assure you nothing beats British humour, with the exception of
these Tanzanian chaps. That class is super fun i can assure you. for one, its multi-racial with a French, a German, an Arab, an Italian and an African, me. never mind, its hard explaining that africa is not a country, and if you succeed in explaining that then you have to figure out how to show that Kenya is not JUST NEXT to Nigeria. i just let it go,so i'm African, and proud. Of course the German dude get's the brunt of most jokes as the English and German are perennial rivals.Heck we even play hangman with the teacher.
I have to sleep, and nothing beats a beautiful sleep when that girl calls just to say good night. Indeed a good night.
