fiddle dee

She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate stone i know i know... mercutio was talking about me

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Things you may know about me (not)


I was baptized flora- I really dug 227 then

I have more than 4 surnames, and I don’t like the sound of any of them, so no I will not use them- and if you ask I have 2 names; bite me!

Complicated relationships are my forte- even a good one gets sabotaged by yours truly 

I am a closet nerd- I came out to a larger closet

I like standing out, I need to stand out- how else can I rant and be the diva I am at times

I am big softie- as soft as granite can get 

I am impatient, impertinent (misunderstood) and difficult to please- I usually will do almost anything to get what I want

But I do cry, no, weep at the movies- not delicate sniffles, more like snorting bucketfuls-but then again it is about me ;-)

I like animals, they get me

I am going to stop at 10, because, I have a tendency of giving TMI I like shocking people… I get off it! Tee hee!

Monday, July 12, 2010

Black Sunday

News trickled in slowly, a hushed unsure whisper, a jarring ringing phone call and the newspaper headlines looked surreal, pictures horrifying- as we all thought of the fun filled memories not too long back at the feisty Kyadondo rugby field; shaking our heads unbelievingly, the horror of it all sunk in slowly- they were here then they weren’t.




There's a grief that can't be spoken.
There's a pain goes on and on.
Empty chairs at empty tables
Now my friends are dead and gone.

Here they talked of revolution.
Here it was they lit the flame.
Here they sang about `tomorrow'
And tomorrow never came.
Oh my friends, my friends forgive me

That I live and you are gone.
There's a grief that can't be spoken.
There's a pain goes on and on.

Phantom faces at the window.
Phantom shadows on the floor.
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friends will meet no more.


Oh my friends, my friends, don't ask me
What your sacrifice was for
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friends will sing no more.

Les Mes