Prolouge
There is that special person in your life. wewe know, the guy wewe despise; of who wewe do nothing rater then twist the neck of; who drives wewe to insanity; who bus wewe like hell just kwa being near; who makes your fingers itch after to ngumi, punch him. That guy who wewe must fight with every muscle in your body not to beat up.
No, I’m not talking about your overprotective big brother au your oh-so-annoying little brother, both who wewe really truly love. No, I’m talking about the guy wewe are, whether wewe like it au not, thinking about twenty-four hours a siku mti hundred and sixty-five days a year.
The “smirking-his-annoying-smile-at-you-in-class-refusses-to-live-you-alone-does-everything-to-bug-you”-kind of guy. The guy who makes your blood boil and wewe cheeks burn, who wewe really desire to hit with something hard. The guy you’ve been complaining on with your Marafiki a billion times and who fill every page of your diary with his stupid acting.
The cocky, good-looking, sooo sexy guy with his enchanting eyes and messy hair who everybody loves, everybody but you. Who picks on wewe for all those horrible things that makes wewe feel bad which, weird enough, makes wewe feel better. He who seem to know exactly what wewe think and can make wewe do an-y-thing just through saying wewe can’t, are to muck goody-goody au are too scared to do it. The guy wewe called every ugly name that’s ever been hear. And a few more.
New fact: This guy is very important person. I’m talking “turning-you-world-upside-down –your-life-will-never-be-the-same-again” –important. Believe me I know. I didn’t know what those guy meant to me until I almost Lost him. au actually Lost him. Well, really he Lost me. Not that I’d known it. I had a hole in my moyo for many years without knowing about it. When we met again it started to heal and I realized that there wasn’t a person I hated zaidi in my life than him, au a person I risk zaidi to keep alive.
While talking about alive. What do wewe guys thin happed after death. And don’t say “I don’t know” wewe all have a theory wewe all wonder about a lot. Way too much actually.
Hot tip. Live while wewe can and don’t worry too much about death. Because sooner au later your dead and then you’ll have plenty of time to figure out what’s going on. I should know I’ve died seven times.
I died the twenty-first of October 1891 on my nineteenth birthday. Every time I’ve died I’ve died on my birthday. On my nineteenth birthday. wewe think that when seven different girls dies on there nineteenth birthday, who just happened to be on the same siku kwa the way, with around twenty years between each would wake some attention. But noo, everyone’s to crushed about the tragedy of a young girl with her whole life up a head who died on her birthday. Sigh, Idiots.
There is that special person in your life. wewe know, the guy wewe despise; of who wewe do nothing rater then twist the neck of; who drives wewe to insanity; who bus wewe like hell just kwa being near; who makes your fingers itch after to ngumi, punch him. That guy who wewe must fight with every muscle in your body not to beat up.
No, I’m not talking about your overprotective big brother au your oh-so-annoying little brother, both who wewe really truly love. No, I’m talking about the guy wewe are, whether wewe like it au not, thinking about twenty-four hours a siku mti hundred and sixty-five days a year.
The “smirking-his-annoying-smile-at-you-in-class-refusses-to-live-you-alone-does-everything-to-bug-you”-kind of guy. The guy who makes your blood boil and wewe cheeks burn, who wewe really desire to hit with something hard. The guy you’ve been complaining on with your Marafiki a billion times and who fill every page of your diary with his stupid acting.
The cocky, good-looking, sooo sexy guy with his enchanting eyes and messy hair who everybody loves, everybody but you. Who picks on wewe for all those horrible things that makes wewe feel bad which, weird enough, makes wewe feel better. He who seem to know exactly what wewe think and can make wewe do an-y-thing just through saying wewe can’t, are to muck goody-goody au are too scared to do it. The guy wewe called every ugly name that’s ever been hear. And a few more.
New fact: This guy is very important person. I’m talking “turning-you-world-upside-down –your-life-will-never-be-the-same-again” –important. Believe me I know. I didn’t know what those guy meant to me until I almost Lost him. au actually Lost him. Well, really he Lost me. Not that I’d known it. I had a hole in my moyo for many years without knowing about it. When we met again it started to heal and I realized that there wasn’t a person I hated zaidi in my life than him, au a person I risk zaidi to keep alive.
While talking about alive. What do wewe guys thin happed after death. And don’t say “I don’t know” wewe all have a theory wewe all wonder about a lot. Way too much actually.
Hot tip. Live while wewe can and don’t worry too much about death. Because sooner au later your dead and then you’ll have plenty of time to figure out what’s going on. I should know I’ve died seven times.
I died the twenty-first of October 1891 on my nineteenth birthday. Every time I’ve died I’ve died on my birthday. On my nineteenth birthday. wewe think that when seven different girls dies on there nineteenth birthday, who just happened to be on the same siku kwa the way, with around twenty years between each would wake some attention. But noo, everyone’s to crushed about the tragedy of a young girl with her whole life up a head who died on her birthday. Sigh, Idiots.
