If words were to bleed...

If words were to bleed then this day, this very day..,, my pen would be bloating in litres. Sickness is not only a disease of the bedridden as is evidenced by the careless whispers of the illicit mouthed, vultures that constantly prey on our conscience as a people. What are we? is it that we do not see even as rat bites our toes, its like crossing a highway with a blindfold after having seen a truck full of bodies driving   towards us.... its no a pity, in fact I think it makes for such fantastic humor, that which will leave your ribs cracking in your grave, yeah thats right your grave! Go ahead.. engage in the roulette and see if the gun has powder.

Blood, hmmmm! i love the smell of blood, in my steak that is... properly grilled, medium rare to be precise, but hey for some when it flows it shows! shows their might, when our mothers wail, groan in agony, tears flowing freely just as the blood they shed on the day they delivered a son or daughter into this university.... only to fall for a loaf of bread at the hands of vulture who in turn laughs in light.....knowing the bait is born, Nyama Nyama Nyama!...... Nyama! ya Juma nyama! ya Andrew nyama! ya Mama nani Nyama! 

I wish you could all hear it, its like an auction. Where sellers bid for the best, the best blood cutters in the binness! and at this market we all friends. we drink and taste the meat and discuss how good the market is to us. as for the sellers well, lets just say they are easy to deal with all you need to get em is hope, yes hopelessness mess em up and you are in binness! 

Anyway as I was saying my pen would bleed but since it cant, am gonna let it write to you my brothers and sisters.... A sperm does not know language, the ovary only knows the womb... so why merge the two and set them on fire... A tribe is only an acquired state. Theres no day your DNA will read Luhya Luo, Kamba, Kikuyu Or Kalenjin.... If God did not brand you why brand yourself?