For Life.

Yes
When the poetry starts blubbing out that's when I know the kind of passion. The kind of jitters that chills within the words, within the tonation, within the pauses and the full stops.

It is when I know that it's on. That it is in motion that after all it is rolling. 

Holding tight and letting go all sounds delicious but wrong. Staying in between is stuck, left or right is a luxury, tik tok on the wall is a 'hey'

Too much talk less action is a brawl?

Back to myworldofankara. 

Ankara and kitenge?

African print colors are really something...

Ooh music, instruments... Beach, trees... Something, 

Yeah all those.