Look out



We struggle so much for so little, a little attention there, some recognition here, applause, name them and like flies on fresh shit we hover around to have our buzzing heard for attention. We are fanned away, but like the flies we retreat only a little and are back on the item to get a little bit of something.
We end up dying trying to impress those who don't even notice us. We don't even see the ones who genuinely interested in us. They pass us without us even offering a glance as we are busy hovering over shit. We are preoccupied with that shit and our search for attention and this from the wrong quarters.
Then one day we look back and wonder, where are we?, what happened? how did we end up here? But by then, we have noticed like the fly (if we are not dead yet) the shit has dried up it is no longer alluring. Unfortunately those we ignored and did not pay attention to are gone too.

Wacha tabia ya nzi kung'ang'ania mavi

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