LIVING TO THE FULLEST

I must declare it already, if you most beloved readers don't already know, that most of what I write in this blog (at least the ones that make the most sense), is inspired by other blog posts and this one here is not an exception. Too sad I can't exactly remember which one of the fairly numerous blogs I bother to visit did inspire this post but it certainly left bits of unfinished thoughts (because nothing in my head is ever resolved) etched in my mind and I have been meaning to put this down on paper print ever since then, about a month ago. So here it is;

The blogger in question was doing what we bloggers characteristically like to do- rant, yap, blubber, argue and "talk" about something with a passion that overwhelmingly supersedes the importance of the issue, yes that's us. If you write a blog, you know you are guilty. Pardon me, I'm getting sidetracked from the story. The blogger who was female (I'm not sure how this fact will help build the story) was complaining talking about how some common questions which people are so known to pose to each other are just nothing less than pathetic! Questions like, what's your favourite book or movie or colour? The argument was, why should anyone confine themselves to liking just a single colour? Fact is, she didn't know what her favourite colour was, she likes many colours and can't get herself to choosing just one! Plus, the answer varies at different times. Another one, if you were stuck in a desert... you know the rest of it. But the one that this post is mostly based on is the question; if you knew you had 24 hours to live, what would you do before you died. Her, she'd probably do the same thing she did the day before.

On that note, I feel the need to point out that I don't know what it means to live life to the fullest. So just when I begin to think that I might be living a boring life I tell myself, boring is the only fun I know. I like it this way and I wouldn't change it. At this point it wouldn't take a genius to tell that I probably would do the same thing the lady blogger would do if I had 24 hours to live, but a more accurate answer would be- I don't know what I'd do. My favourite quote right now (how ironic) is one that goes; if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. I'm sorry but in every argument I tend to end up at destination God, to some people that may be lame.

Sometimes I think we live too fast, its like a race. I should be married by now, all my friends already are. I should drink my ass stupid now, while I'm still young. Hell, where is the next party at? So we run around doing things because we compare our lives with that of others. We all want to go crazy and live to the fullest when in reality, when you live your life- that's when you are living to the fullest. If you are a party animal, get to dine with kings, eat your meals in different countries in a day and that's just your life, meaning it doesn't go against who you really are, then my take is that you are living your life full.

Sometimes when people talk about living to the fullest I get the impression that they take it to mean doing the things you don't to do on regular basis. Trying out everything to avoid missing out on anything or doing things just because you can to find out what it would feel like. From crazy stuff like dyeing your hair blue, or getting to the roof top of Times Tower and peeing from up there (men only) to simple and more acceptable things like camping and smelling flowers, literally. If it was upon me to define what living full means, I would define it as simply being true to who you are by doing things a you would actually do and being happy with that, period. No questions please. So if I had only 24 hours to live, whatever I do I'd make sure I enjoy every second of it, even if it's to just sit dumb and have a very exhilarating conversation with myself, which is something a Wyndago would do any day and come out as happy as Kanye with a VMA plaque.

NB: My apologies for not having posted anything for such a long time, especially to you lulu :-)

STRANGE STRANGERS

In Nairobi, that's arguably everyone you don't know, but strange is normal, sometimes too much caution is what gets you killed, or kills someone else. Like when a stranger on the streets approaches with a long story about how he's lost and needs money to get back home before dusk because his mother who is sick needs him but your instincts tell you the desperate idiot brother is nothing but a cheap conman, you know there is a chance that it might be true? What if its true? The poor mother is going to die! Anyway, normal strangers, that's scary. I mean those who treat you like they would treat a person they knew? Perhaps it's just me.

This guy at the matatu stage made gestures and yelled out something that I wasn't trying to hear, I turned to his direction and he looked at me straight in the eye and he says something again so I put my index finger on my chest to be sure if he was talking to me and as a matter of fact he was, he asked "Nairobi?" Yes, Nairobi. I was traveling from Thika. I personally don't like it when those boys decide for me which matatu I'll be traveling in but for some reason I followed this one meandering in between other matatus until we reached to the vehicle that was supposedly going to take me to Nairobi. It was cheaper and more comfortable, I hopped in and suddenly I wasn't comfortable, what was I doing in a personal car?! For all I know this could end up being a case of abduction and people are going to read about it in the Newspapers and hear newscasters read the news about me... I started to get nervous and resorted to asking too many questions like where exactly will you drop me... but the driver, noticing my discomfort, assured me he I'd be fine. Then I remembered this story of kidnappers. I started having this conversation with myself in my head.

"Well, it's me. God always takes care of me"

"Are you testing God now, putting yourself in potential danger and expecting him to rescue you?"

"But this is not putting myself in danger, I'm simply trying to go home"

"What if something happens to you, like if this driver drives crazy and you crash somewhere. Paps will wonder what the hell got you into a stranger's car!"

"Okay then, I'll buckle up"

But on my seat there was no seat belt.

"That's an excuse, it's not my fault"

"Are you serious?"

"I need to get this thought out of my head"

I looked over at the passenger seat and in the front and there was a woman, so I stayed. He was with a woman, which means he hadn't planned anything evil if he had brought a woman. That was my take. another random burly guy was led to the car by the same guy who brought me, that made me relaxed.

So we began our journey, two strangers in the back and another couple in the front. The driver thought he needed pressure on one of the car tyres. Apparently he didn't know Thika well, but our burly guy did. He helped a big deal, he sounded like he'd driven in Thika for a long time, he knew all the Petrol stations and at exactly what spot the pressure pipes were, if that's what they are called. By now, I was convinced that everything happened for a reason and that that guy was with us for a reason.

Then the strangest thing among strangers happened. We They started talking. And then...

"My names is Moses", began the driver, "...and I am born again"

"I am Doctor Jemmima, I am born again and I love Jesus", said the woman whom I later learned that she teaches Sunday school to little kids at her church.

I can't remember the burly guy's name but he was born again too!

"And what about our brother?", asked the driver

"They call me Wyndago, and umm... *stutter* I'm born again"

I don't know why I wasn't confident in saying so but that is another story.

What an evening. In this era, what are the odds of four (or three) born-again people finding themselves alone anywhere? I reckon they are pretty close to nil. I said Halleluhya but I might have said it too soon.

We had arrived in Nairobi, the burly had alighted in the famous Githurai so it was the three of us, when we found a very horrific traffic jam. Matatus started misbehaving, yes they did (we're used to that), trying to fit into smallest of spaces and they always fit and get through. On second thought, they but sometimes fit because this time one of them brushed on Moses' side mirror. This made the man of God angry and he began shouting at the matatu driver. Then to both mine and Dr. Jemima's surprise, our Moses applied hand break and stepped out of the car, ignoring Dr. jemima's pleas to just ignore the matatu driver. Right then I wondered what happened to Jesus. So now what was the purpose of that happening? I felt like I was at a drive-in, watching a movie through the windscreen. Jemima was so embarassed!

That is when these strangers became perfect to me, by their own imperfections. But I'm heeding my mother's advice of not speaking to strangers let alone get into their cars next time. You don't want to know what happened next.

RHETORIC.

Words are powerful. They may not be able to break your bones or cause you any physical harm but words can be dangerous if misused. All powerful things are. Whatever you say with your mouth goes a long way, sometimes it does not only have an effect on you but also on the people who are listening, more so if they take heed.


They say it is better to listen than to talk, but how do you avoid being consumed by the words of the talker? Because words are not just words, they evoke emotions. When this occurs, people become attached and form opinions after which they epitomize those opinions and emotions. This can be a good thing, but not always. I once became a victim without noticing, in a way that was not good.

I always desire to be on the side of the truth, regardless of how it makes me feel. Whether or not it favours me but sometimes, if not most times, the truth resembles the lie too much to tell the difference. My father and I used to argue a lot about Kenyan politics (I quit because arguing only left me drained with nothing achieved), he was for one political party and to him, there was nothing the rival party could do that would be right. So I would argue with him just to reveal the other side of the coin but not that I supported the other party, just to make things level, trying to state little truths here and there.

Election time came in 2007 and the news were selling filled with so much tribal rhetoric in them. That election was the first I was liable to vote. So I listened, not only to politicians but also to people who surrounded me, they seemed to say similar things. Not much was being said about the issues, people did not care about those, they had already made up their minds based on tribe on who they were going to vote for, all that their tribal leaders had to do was say anything and it would be right to them. And then it became ugly, people became emotional, I gradually took sides based on what I heard being said, mostly fuelled by hate. Sometimes its not how you say it, sometimes its just what you say, period. Thankfully I was not infected by hate. But I took sides and I put my faith in a bunch of greedy people whose ideologies I did not even agree with, just because they talked loudest, just because they moved crowds (including me), I could see during the campaigns that they lied, but on election time I took sides because of their stupid rhetoric. Why did I take sides, both sides were the same.. liars! What happened to the truth?

I was watching Christiane Amanpour interviewing President Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe on CNN the other night. This man has caused his country a lot of economic turmoil, that is the common knowledge. I was surprised that he would even accept an interview with Christiane Amanpour on CNN! Again, I listened. He made sense in the beginning, talking like the very educated man that he is, he was so convincing! Then I thought, there goes that rhetoric again. But I was glad to see that later he was asked a tough yet simple question and he practically choked on air, pausing for a good thirty seconds before he could answer. Then everyone could see the lie. From this interview I learned that Mr. Mugabe is not a simpleton, he just lacks wisdom.

The thing is to listen and to receive the words as a separate entity from the person saying the words so that your opinion of the person does not affect your judgment towards the words that he is saying. Because just because a person is an idiot, it does not mean that he is wrong. On receiving the words, it is upon an individual to use their wisdom to evaluate those words and to decide what lessons, conclusions or opinions can be formulated from those words. For there is something to learn from everything that you listen to, even from evil words. But I could be wrong, and that is the beauty of life.

THERE IS JOY IN GIVING

Walking on street pavements around Nairobi and seeing the different array of beggars from the disabled to the sick and to the physically normal people over the years, made me develop an attitude of contempt towards them, chiefly because I felt they had many more options aside from seeking handouts from other human beings who are just like them. I felt like they could do better to fend for themselves, at some point I even blamed them for whatever plight they undergo. I asked myself, why are other people poor while others are not? I thought maybe if anyone understood this one thing then perhaps they’d be better placed, including me, to truly help the poor.


But this was just a notion I had in my head, just a political thought. The poor I had in mind were not the ones sitting on the roadsides with placards beside them with a long medical history written on them, hoping to get money off the public. The poor to me were not beggars, those are just lazy people looking for an excuse to not have to work. The poor is that mother of a two year old child from the slum trekking to Nairobi’s CBD every day to sell sweets and cigarettes only for city council officers to topple her carton-made stand, and scatter all her stuff on the road. The poor is that family of orphans who have to work odd jobs to support each other.. those are the poor! I have always had the heart to give but I either thought of it as something to be done in future (when I’ll have something significant to give) or, whenever confronted with an opportunity, thought that the person(s) in question did not deserve it.

I walked by a blind beggar not so long ago, stretching out his hand, holding a tin, singing a gospel song, praising God. I remember thinking ‘if you truly believe in your God then why are you begging amongst men, beg your God and He’ll provide.’ I never gave a single cent to a beggar because I never believed in handouts- free things. When approached by those ‘dirty folks’ beggars I’d mean mug them like they were just about to take what’s mine and say words to shoo them away. I really did give them a bad look and when that made them back off it made me feel like I knew the street. I felt so because one of them had tried to extort me back in the day, he showed me a packet of ‘human wastes’ and a few sharp tools he had in possession inside his coat and threatened to use them if I did not pay up.

Then God spoke to me. Yes, God. He spoke to me. He said ‘Wyndago, ye my child thou need to learneth something’. Alright I did not exactly hear a voice speak but look, I had a sudden change of heart and a new attitude towards beggars was implanted in me in a split second (snap!). I strongly perceive it to be God speaking to me. It happened recently when I had just said another ‘no’ to a beggar. I felt compassion and all the times I turned my back on a beggar flashed before my eyes… and I was sorry. Then I felt the need to give. I woke up one morning and decided to pursue any beggar to not only give him/her money but to buy them food, and shake his hand, and wish him a good day. I had only fifty shillings with me so I was planning for just one beggar. I did not find any beggar around my neighborhood that day.

Yesterday, a friend of mine and I were approached by a street child, she carried a baby on her back and she asked us for money. I had no cash but my friend without hesitation stopped to look for loose change in her purse, I felt so ashamed that my friend wouldn’t even hesitate when I can’t remember the last time I gave to a beggar probably because I had never. Meanwhile I engaged the street girl in a friendly small talk. Asking her if she took anything for breakfast, she stopped to think but eventually said “tulikula mandazi”. I was impressed that she told the truth! She had paused to think whether or not to lie, it was about noon and she must have been tempted to lie to make us sympathize with her to lead us (my friend) to give her more money. Then she gave me a look mixed with both surprise and appreciation. I did not give the kid money, but I gave her something.

It feels good to care about people who other people care less about. There is so much joy in giving to the needy! Moral of the story; when you give, give with your whole heart and not just to get rid of loose change that make noise in your pocket. Give with compassion. Do it for the joy of it, it doesn’t matter whether or not they deserve it, appreciate it or pretend to be needy. Just do your part and always give! give! give! Even when you don’t have money, stop and show them that you care. That is our duty as God’s people, not something we do when we please.

Merry Christmas.

I'M A 80'S BABY

Babies of the 80’s, those were the last good bunch of babies, the generation that scooped that last bit of fun in real childhood. I mean real childhood. Life was good then, there wasn’t global warming or the numerous TV stations we have today, and perhaps because of that we had plenty of time to be real kids rather than trying to act older than we were.



And parents were parents, discipline was effectively instilled in a child whenever he displayed the slightest sign of drifting away from the right path and was promptly ‘straightened up’. Get home past the curfew- whoop ass! Return from the shop without the bread he had been sent or the money because he lost it on the way- whoop ass! Hell, look at your momma wrong and you get a whoop ass! That wasn't the good part for us kids but the point is things were in order.



Fast forward to 2009, parents went stale like they had a use-before date. Parenting stopped. My nine year old sister's favourite commercials are the 'tumechill' and 'shake-shake' (that one for sanitary pads, she loves the song!) commercials. She won't stop singing and reciting what they say in those commercials. I did not have an issue with that until she approached me and asked about the tumechill symbol; is it like this (normal peace sign) or like this (peace sign with fingers close together)?



'I don't know', I muttered, 'how did you see them do it on TV?'



'Like this', she said waving the normal peace sign.



My argument is this; yes, I'm a first born but I am NOT a parent yet! Where are the parents at? If I go through this, will I have to go through it with my kids too? Oh, I guess I'll leave it for my first born kid, they really do come in handy those ones. I just need to make sure I give him enough whooping while he's still young, he'll take care of the rest.



'Daddy, can I ask you something?', that would be my 6 year old daughter asking in the year 20__ something, in a curious but sweet face. You know how adorable kids can be.



'Sure, honey. You know daddy's a genius. Shoot'



'What's a blow-job?'



'Aah, that's easy. Go ask your big brother!'



Boys are easy, you just buy them a couple of porn magazines on their 14th birthday and they'll learn everything by themselves. More effective than an uncomfortable lecture by his old man. Seriously though, nobody should buy their teenage boys porn magazines, I'm just saying it works better.. a win-win, everyone gets what they want. As for girls.. once they get comfortable they get it all out, I'm not sure I'd like that. That's where mothers come in, I guess.



My siblings are growing up in a very different environment, right from the realm of the family. They get to watch TV 'til midnight, I used to be sent to bed by 9pm. My mother used to switch off the TV on me and made me do homework or some excuse of a chore, now I settle down to watch TV and it's not odd to hear her yell from another room:



'Let your sisters also watch what they want to!'



Even when they don't want to watch. I don't know what changed.

These '90's babies don't know any better but lucky for them they have us, the generation that will make the coolest parents. If they pay attention the may learn our swagger. The revolution is here and it's ours- babies from the error of good music but bad sense fashion- The Eighties.

HIV/AIDS AND MY PEOPLE.

Who’s fault is it? It’s their fault- them! They are the ones who went sleeping around with random people and failed to take the simplest precaution of using a condom. That’s plain stupid and ignorant, it’s their fault!!




To begin with, they KNOW. They know it MAY have been stupid, they go through a lot of trauma by themselves and they don’t need anyone else to add to their psychological burden. It does not necessarily make them stupid or ignorant and the rest of us are more or less like them by virtue of being human. We make mistakes, we all tell lies, how can one redeem himself and claim he’s a saint? Tell me, are you saint?



It really does not help to point fingers, it’s my fault or it’s his fault, you think it would make the virus go if at all it wasn’t the fault of a HIV/AIDS patient that he/she has it? Time has come to fight in the right battle, kill in the right war, recruit in the right army and to march in the right direction to deter the human race from entirely being pervaded by this virus.



I’ve seen it first hand, it was right in my backyard. My mother’s sister was infected with AIDS and I didn’t need to be told, I called that woman my aunt. She was my family. She got so sick, she got so thin. No, she lost all meat because all that was left were bones, she looked like sticks. To look a little normal she had to wear more clothes. I wondered how she walked. When I looked into her eyes, she looked ashamed. I was just a little boy, some things I just couldn’t ask. She died, you see? She left two baby girls, the little one is sick too. She got infected during birth, you see how it doesn’t matter who you blame?



Most of my friends are jack rabbits, it’s a fact and I can’t hide it. Listen, it’s not perfectly safe but at least have a rubber on when you get to humping. That’s how real the threat is, you see? Sometimes we tend to forget, or we choose to forget until something tragic happens close to where we are standing. Or a little later when it happens to us. Then we scream “NOT AIDS!!”, and we wonder how it happened. Not a single person is immune, it could happen to me just as it could it happen to you.



People with the virus are an obvious target for stigmatization. It may not mean much to you as to why they should or should not be stigmatized until it happens to someone you immensely love. Then all over sudden it will become so senseless, you find yourself asking questions like; why do people do this? Infected people are not deprived of brains, they are not handicapped. They won’t unexpectedly just drop dead due to their condition. As far as I am concerned they do not fall under any special group of people. Not unless they themselves put themselves in that box, and even then it would be a hoax!



My High School English teacher is a heroine. She taught me English literature too, the Lord knows I did enjoy her lessons because when she spoke I’d wish she never stopped. She had these interesting stories that had beautiful endings. She had more to share with us than what was written in the books. You see, she is positive. I mean HIV positive. I heard the rumours then, but I didn’t pay attention to them. But my teacher Mrs. Nindo is a heroine, I saw her on TV talking about HIV/AIDS. The stigma she went through, the fact that she’s still here is proof enough of the amount of courage she possesses. My teacher is a good woman, and a very great one. I am very proud of her.

A NEW CONSTITUTION AND REFORM.

Nothing will bring us change, not the law, not the international community, not even The Hague, but ourselves. For that reason I do not expect any change in ourselves as individuals making up a nation to arise due to the enactment of any law or set of laws because we are a corrupt people. Therefore expecting a new constitution to magically transform this whole nation by creating a whole new political platform and eventually making our intricate problems or challenges a little solvable is absolutely dreamy. As much as the current constitution may have erroneous laws, or laws that are unjust, we should ask ourselves about the remaining ‘sound’ part of the current constitution, does it serve us any good, equally without discrimination, does it protect us and preserve our rights? On paper it does, but it is us who contaminate it with corruption and greed. A new constitution may be a good thing for this country, but it won’t bring any more change than itself- a new constitution, if we don’t change as well.

Some Kenyans consider a new constitution as the starting point, the first step to change or reform but it shouldn’t be. Having this notion evokes the feeling that if we as a nation fail to acquire a new constitution this time round then we wouldn’t be able to move on. Not to undermine the importance of the constitution, but it is just a document written by individuals to depict how power is going to be shared and how the country will be governed, period. Whether or not it works for us does not entirely depend on the document itself but also on us. We decide. So in the end, change comes from within us.

At the core of all our troubles lies tribalism. Some assert that it can never ever be solved. But we owe it to ourselves and to prove to the rest of the world that we can be big enough to solve a problem of this enormity and not just kick it by the side to avoid facing it. Intermarriages could serve a great purpose to that effect but it may not be the best option because it MAY mean dissolution of the tribes, which is something we don’t desire and it also it would constitute kicking the problem by the side so we won’t have to actually resolve it. The cause of tribalism is not the tribes themselves but the people of the respective tribes. Tribalism can be eliminated, it can be done faster and sooner than we’d like to think, it can be done tomorrow! There is no reason to wait a another decade or century. Only we can bring change, and it begins right when we start seeing each other as partners, from there greater positive change will come.

There’s not a doubt about how tribalism can be dealt with, tribalism is as a result of ignorance and ignorance can be reversed by only one thing- education. Not education as we Kenyans have been made to believe it is, as to having our heads cramped with so much information in our memories which we may not fully understand, but education as being liberal and independent in our thoughts and being able to form an opinion based on the facts and having the ability to dissociate our personal interests and emotions in our final judgment for the greater good of the nation or even in our personal lives. This education can happen both inside and outside classrooms. It is doable.

When we have a population educated in the sense described in the previous paragraph, change becomes inevitable. Everything would fall in its rightful place, because then we would give more consideration to the unborn children in making decisions of national interest. When it comes such a time when we can rise to reach the level selflessness in order to attain greater good for the nation, at that time there would be nothing to stop us. As it is now, we are our own worst enemy.

Revisiting the issue of new constitution, the draft constitution has renamed and scrapped off some national days. In my opinion this to some extent erodes that Kenyan sense of pride, because it seems like whoever changed it saw something wrong with the initial name, and therefore we may have been celebrating a lie all this time. The same can be said of holidays cancelled from the calendar as national days. It’s like renaming Christmas!

FRESH OUTTA COLLEGE.

Fresh outta college. Job seeking now.. internship, whatever. So I find myself at the doorsteps of the company I worked for about a year ago on attachment. I know his name so I spit it out when I was asked whom I wanted to see, right there at the gate by them uniformed watchmen- the human resource guy. How hard can it be to see a person without an appointment? So they called in to check if he was in, right from the gate. No he's not in, but you can wait, they say, pointing at the bench.

'Right here?!', i thought. 'It rained this morning, its drizzling, i'm freezing, i have only a shirt on, you want me to sit here on a wooden bench with you!' Haha, funny. What the hell is the reception inside for?

I just want to drop shit and I'm out. Convinced they let me in. Lie. But the other lie was on me though, at the reception I ask for Mr. Musyoka, that's the human resource boss, and the receptionist says he's in.

'Have a seat and wait.'

The stupid idiot didn't want to see me all this time! See, he told me last year that I could come back when I get done with college. Perhaps I should have made an appointment then. The receptionist did a good job though, bugging him every other minute about this young man waiting. 'Til he asked for me to be put on the phone.

'Hallo'

'Hallo, my name is Wyndago...'

'Yes?'

'..and I was here on attachment last year and...'

'SO?'

That 'SO?' just threw me off. I had to rearrange my thoughts.

'You told me I could come back so i...'

'I told you to come?'

'NO! ...I mean yes. No, you told me last year.'

Pointless.

They were nice to send me down a cute lady to talk to me. No space for me until maybe January. MAYBE. So now I'm looking at other alternatives.
This job seeking business is just something. That was just my first attempt and it was enough to make me want to do my own thing! Actually, no... I've always wanted to do 'my thing' ever since forever, today's incident just rekindled the feeling. But can one do his thing being fresh out of college? YES. I mean, it's possible, isn't it? No room for negative thoughts.

Anyway, before I settle down to doing whatever it is I'll end up doing, I'm open to work any where. Even volunteer work, perhaps I should start by helping to plant trees in the Mau. My aim is to gain experience in whichever field, and in interaction, handling and working with different people. Yes, I said whichever field. You can't believe how fast I can learn and perfect a skill. I mostly want to work for small time people, businesses that are trying to come up. You have a small business? Call me. E-mail me, shadywane(at)gmail(dot)com.

So what skills do I have? I can write. I love it, to write that is. Computers, I'm fond of these machines. I can network a set of computers and do lots of other amazing stuff with them. Currently I'm learning how to use CAD (Computer Aided Design). I can sing, everyone says I should have been on Tusker Project Fame and that both Alpha and Ng'ang'alito have nothing on me. If you got kids you can hire me rock 'em to sleep. Or even yourself. Another skill I posses is in motors. Those are tremendously awesome machines, people. They are applicable in almost every other machine system. I can go on and on, but I'll close this chapter by saying, I cook good too. A brother has skills.

THE PERFECT SPOT, AND IT AIN'T BLOGSPOT.

Ain't this something. Didn't this guy just choose the perfect spot to sit? I just like the "No Fee!" part.

THINGS I WANT TO DO BEFORE I DIE

This has been inspired by another blog I read 50 things you should do before you're 50. I decided to come up with a list of my own.

1. Organize a crazy house party at my place.
2. Direct a movie
3. Be rich
4. Write a book, have tried but I'm always lazy to just put my mind to it and finish
5. Have kids, still not decided on which gender I prefer for a first born. Mmhhh....
6. Go for a road tour with a bunch of wild friends, with no clear knowledge of where the destination is.
7. Make a record song
8. Get a tattoo, piercing no.
9. Get on TV for any reason, I have been on TV before though. I just want to do it again!
10. Get on radio
11. Buy a hydraulic car. If I can't at least the car needs to be pimped
12. Start a magazine company
13. Organize a big family re-union, we don't have that in our family
14. It won't hurt to be president
15. Fall in love
16. Plant a garden in my back yard
17. Own a pet, definitely a dog.
18. Drink the most of all available beer brands in the market
19. Cross the border
20. Forget Chinese, I want to learn Kikuyu
21. Eat some of those funky foods, like lobsters
22. Buy my mom a house, it doesn't have to be expensive
23. Learn to write with my left hand. This is underway
24. Go camping
25. Visit a museum
26. Get on board a cruise ship. Still thinking if traveling in it would be cool.
    
27. Learn how to use a gun. No, just for fun. I like the sound of it when it's being loaded or assembled
28. Drink and drive, I'll probably do this last because every time I attempt it I just end up spilling my drink!