Allow me to take it back, way back to the days a sweet-cold cappuccino would take me out a while. See, it's not that I hate my sleep but some things need to be taken care of while you're still awake. Dark nights would turn into bright lights and the sunlight would usher me to sleep. With a night-shifter's attitude, you can get anything done no matter what time of day. I'll keep it subliminal and slide in your DM's. Text messages suck anyway. I'd rather you call me on my cellphone just because I like it when the hotline blings. But remember, this is way back before we had the SMS's and people would smack down the receiver if they didn't like what you were saying.. Or wanted to make clear what they were telling you. I'm not that guy with a temper to shout you down over a phone call. I know that we see things different at times. I'm calm and I never let my storms overturn other people's boats. If I was the iceberg in the Titanic movie, I would have moved out of the way. I let people be and mind my own coffee. Kids learn from our actions and I'm glad there are some things I've unlearned. I know now what's really important. If I'll disturb your peace then I'm sorry. Because I know what that means. It's important as you sit on the coffee table to stick to your own. People who want others involved in their lives with no benefit to them need to learn how not to be selfish. Yet, you can't really be of use to everyone you get a chance to meet. So, don't make it difficult for the ones you do. A trip down memory lane will take me to Kenya, unfortunately, with no Starbucks coffee shop in sight. We would make our kahawa on a firewood jiko and the soot on the sufuria would alert you on how much time you would need. The smoke from the wood gave the coffee a different taste and I wouldn't say it was the best but I miss it. The smoke would make your eyes tear, save from the fresh onions in the shamba outside. So I know how to make a couple of things from scratch. & in case you forgot, you scratch where it it itches the most. I've had soot find its way into my eyes as I prepared my morning breakfast. I still didn't close my eyes to the pain we went through. I didn't make it normal. Food left over from the previous night was a blessing in the morning so at dinner, we always remembered to save some for tomorrow. It's the thing with memories; you remember even how the cold ugali tasted. I like my coffee with a lot of milk, I won't mention how much sugar. Gratefully, enough neighbours bred enough cattle to supply the whole kijiji. So I'm sure if the stars would light up tomorrow night and the one after, the bucks I had then will not compare. I am in the mood for growth as always and if it's by this wooden coffee table that I will carve my story, then let the coffee sip inside it and make my writing legible.
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