Over the phone my brother is literally like, ቤት ስትመጣ ውስኪ አለ ፤ ይዘህ ትሄዳለህ…እንደቢራ ብዙ መጠጣት የለብህም:: ትንሹ ሞቅ ያደርግሃል::
እኔ ደግሞ literally መሽኮርመም like
He was the one who had turned me from my teetotaling ways (የትም ላልደርስ ነገር) and initiated me into the wonders of ቢራ. He had also overseen my earliest exposure to ጠጅ:: ሌላ ሰው ከሚያስለምድህ እኛው ብናስጀምርህ ይሻላል was his angle.
So, yes. Excitement. Whisky is going to be great; an upgrade over wine. The few times I’ve drunk whisky, I’ve got nothing but good memories. Like the time I was hanging out with this girl, I was finding her and physically arousing, she dropped me off at home, we rubbed cheeks with that singular of Etyopian greetings, and in the privacy of the bathroom I had inspected a prototypical boner, which is a stuff of aspirations to this day. ከዚያች ዕለት በኋላ ከላይ የተጠቀሰችውን ብዕሲት ለማግኘት የተደረገው ተደጋጋሚ ጥረት አልተሳካም::
A text from the future:
Unaccomplished tasks:
ደረቅ ቆዳ season. A sore sight for the eyes 🙂
I really hate this. And the lotions don’t seem to be doing me a world of good probably because I keep on washing my hands like Lady Macbeth. My line of work requires it but maybe I take it to a whole nother level. Anyways, now it’s going to be the unfinished bottle that my former roommate left behind. Yes, I like saving money. Interesting thing about that bottle, the smell of the lotion brought back waves of memories of a special girl. I had been warned: use it sparingly or else risk the scent becoming my own scent; memories getting wiped off. Didn’t listen. Applied it daily and liberally on my face. Yes, I’m metrosexual. Now I can’t tell where girl ends and roommate begins.
There’s also that other lotion that was sent by another special girl for the express purpose of applying it on the አይበሉባ:: Woe the day that tube runs dry. It would be like the last strand of connection being broken….
Finished reading GGS. It got repetitive after a certain point. Slugged through it regardless. Far be it from me to lap up talk of Etyopian exceptionalism however tempting it may be. But the book talks about how Etyopia was one of the select number of places to have domesticated plants leading to crop surplus in turn setting the stage for civilization. And what kind of shit did we manage to domesticate? ጤፍ፣ እንሰት ፣ ኑግ ፣ ዳጉሳ (“የዳጉሳ ጠላ በጎን የሚነዳ”) ፣ ቡና እና ጫት:: Even though the list gives off the impression that our lives kind of sucked that half of it had to do with stimulants, looks like we were on our way to civilization. What the fuck happened?
True. Yesterday’s disaster pales in comparison with today’s. But both don’t even make a bleep on the radar of disasters when you consider the real shit people around you are going through. So, brush that impostor syndrome off of your shoulders and keep stepping. None of that “torpor and inertia” (From Captain Corelli’s Mandolin).
Then again, It is as reasonable to represent one kind of imprisonment by another, as it is to represent anything that really exists by that which exists not.
ነፃነት butchered መድኃኒቴ እና ልጠብቅህ ወይ:: ምነው’ቴ?! ምንም ዘፈኑን አንቺ ብትዘፍኚውም የሕዝብ ሃብት’ኮ ነው! ታሪክ ሰሪው ደግሞ ሠፊው ሕዝብ ነው:: Similar but varying degrees of reproach go out to all them mutherfuckers who had tried to redo their old songs: ቴዎድሮስ፣ ኤፍሬም ፣ ንዋይ ፣ ፀጋዬ… The triple OG’s remain in a league of their own: አስቴር ፣ ጥላሁን ፣ መሐሙድ
This week’s anthems:
Sultriness:
One
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