Poor Raindrops,

I realized today, drinking coffee and smoking baliswag self-rolled smoking bliss that I am highly contemplative. I have no time to write--I make no time to write--I reckon. Hence, the long duration between the last post and this one. The summer was one of triumph and since then I've realized that summer, dear summer is fleeting. Raindrops are pouring from the heavens foreshadowing another year of thought, action and ends. I'm getting married, during the raining season in South Africa and I wonder. It seems so far away. The raindrops. Poor raindrops washing away the old and replenishing the new. What a job! I can't wait to see these raindrops go in the city of bites and embrace the rain dance in the motherland. Maybe my poor blog posts can be these--mere autobiographical sketchings--I don't know. I'm still thinking, raindrops--I'm still dreaming.