Wednesday 30 May 2012

Police woman.

Remember the first day to any academically institution? I mean everything but nursery school, which they call kindergarten. Maybe they call it kindergarten now cause nursery is like a nursery bed for roses. Why did they drop that name anyways?

Anyways, a little advice, when no one knows anyone, be the first to talk to everyone that seems will be someone. So, whenever I join a new institution, and I join a couple from French classes to business school, to etiquette class, to none-of-your-business class, I am always the last to get into the classroom. I get in through the front door. I do a quick survey on who is who and that is the person I seat next to.

"hey? What class is this?"

"Financial Management"

"cool, what's the lecturers name?"

"he hasn't told us yet..."

And I get out a blank book from my bag, place it on the table. And that is how it begins.

"young man, what's your name sir?"

"Bob."

"it's nice of you to grace as with your presence."

He is obviously being sarcastic about my being late on the first day. Problem is, he forgets, am not in primary school, am not in high school, dammit this isn't even the first university I have been to since I cleared high school. How does he know I don't have kids at home... I decide what I will do. Piss him off.

So class continues. I am busy looking for people to borrow a pen from, ask the time, the people I intend to be friends with, it's all about seeing ahead isn't it? If campus is boring then it's upon me to make it fun. And that's what I was doing, hey? Can I have a pen? Hey am Bob. What's your name? Nice bra. No? Okay. Let's move on.

"excuse me sir, are you following what we are saying?"

"yes,"

"so tell me what is the most important thing to do prior to starting a business"

He wants me to say research the market. But why give him that?

"...umh, starting the business itself."

"have you been listening?"

"yes, but I still think the most important thing is to actually start the business..."

"care to explain to the class?"

He put me on the spot all right, everyone was asked to turn to page ten which I later came to find out had a list of type of entrepreneurs. 

"...I once read on the paper that there is a new type of entrepreneur, they are called the serial entrepreneurs, what they simply do is not so much spend time analyzing the market at the beginning, they just start of and see where the business will take them, after setting shop then they start to do their accounts and what not." random huh? If it were to me I would call them... Wait for it... Wait for it... Random Entrepreneurs! 

"you mean to tell me that your basing this class on newspaper articles?"

I feel myself starting to shake a little, especially my legs I guess it's cause he was getting angry, maybe I stepped too far, maybe I should stop. I should stop. Leave it there, that's what I should do.

"...but news papers are the ones that started talking about mPesa before it made it's debut into text books. In fact, when a business becomes successful in real life that's when the idea of how it's run comes into books. Actually books are a recording of what we perceive the world to be and the world changes that's why there are revived editions."

Anyways, you all now know why I wasn't able to attend that class. I guess that lecturer is not such a fan, yeah? Such a bummer dont you think? He can pee on himself and shove those books up his **** 

But here me out, who you siding with him or me? Didn't books say that since mobile phones, analogue watches would become as extinct as dinosaurs? Then aren't there books that tried to explain why watches have become more in demand as mainly jewelry rather than time-pieces? I don't think you can do business well if you don't sometimes choose to challenge assumptions, it's critical analytical thinking. The best business schools in the world have it as the first topic in their curriculum, I have done there curriculum, what was that lecturer trying to tell me? Arrogant man, he was. Wasn't he? Am glad you agree. 

Anyways, that's partly how I ended up to law school. But am studying differently, don't look at my grades cause some units aren't things to smile about. Not to worry though, positive thinking.

"it is here?"

"yes"

And in my arms is a girl with red eyes, this is Mombasa and she has wrapped herself in a sweater holding onto my arm tight. Police stations are such ironic places, you see S600 coupe-like-Mercedes Benz in a police station, half crushed in an accident, as new as day, I bet that's the first time that car has stepped on such sandy gravel. Its used to the lash surburbs with leafs and shades, and if not that it's in town where we have Tarmac all over, we are almost having tarmac in buildings in town, high rise buildings but in the middle of it all are some hopeless small buildings, completely neglected by those who appropriate funds in government. At the heart of the city, you see poverty stricken building structures, you see the police station. See the irony? Everything else in town over the past century has been upgraded, except the police station, right there at the heart of the city. If a city is a child, and the heart is the police station, we have a heart of a child in the body of an adult.

Is that where the red eyed girl sad and I were heading for help? Was it? Such a hopeless institution is it even resources enough to catch a computer less thief? Leave alone a fly, Come on? 

We went there out of procedure, with a little hope that maybe a miracle will happen and justice will be served. Get it? (knocking your head a little) I mean, justice is never served that's why it would be a miracle. 

"where can I get an abstract?"

"next office"

We soiled our shoes looking for the next office. 

"where can I get an abstract?"

"go back to the office you came from."

Okay. What the... We went back. And that is when I saw opportunity. When we walked to the reception there was this lady, she was in her uniform. Brown light skin, beautiful, young, nice hair, she talked well, so you could tell she had a good education, she used coined terms such as Wall of Text. Do you know what that means? It means grammatically incorrect...generally a poorly written paragraph. You know someone got a good education when they used more coined terms rather than explain stuff in details.

"come between 8am and 12pm, that's when you can get an abstract."

As we walked out of the police station with the girl I was with. I tried to take her mind off her red eyes. 

"you know that receptionist is fly?"

"really?"

"yeah she was reading a Sydney Sheldon."

"so?"

"maybe I could date her?"

"she is a police person you know?"

"that's my point, it will be good for my grades?"

"what?"

She let go of my hand.

"no think about it, I want to be a great lawyer, and to be a great lawyer you have to go the extra mile and do what other lawyers don't do."

"how does that relate to anything?"

"same thing, to be a great lawyer you must be a great law student, and to be a great law student you must do more than what other law students do"

Yeah. I got her eyes white after a while. I was glad they weren't as red as before. Anyways, people, my girlfriend will be reading this so, let me clear the air before she sends her dogs after me. No am serious, she is the kind that will go to the National Park, collect hungry lions, lock me in a house and release them on me. 
So, Babe, am not going to date a police woman, am just going to be friends with her, she can tell me stories and that way, what I study my criminal law notes will come to life like movies do. Do you want me kicked out of law school like I was in business school? C you want me to challenge the education system out of class and not in class? At least am trying to be happy at what am already doing, aren't I babe? Isn't that's what is important? My happiness.

"saaah"

She releases dogs after me; I run out like the wind. I've left haiyayeeee.

Saturday 26 May 2012

How to say Hi to me.

I like her cause she knows how to present herself. She walks away, turns her head and smiles at me. I smile back. She winks at me. I die.

I like her cause even when she is in the house she looks awesome. I visit her and I find her hair all messy. But too nicely messy to be real. I bet before she touched the door knob to let me in she used the mirror. Even in pajamas she is smoking, she is smoking hot! Bad for me health, she can give me a heart attack. Heart attack. Heart attack. Heart attack. 

She shops for underwear as hard as you shop for shoes. She shops for home wear harder than you shop for a shirt. She is always looking sharp, even when she is just at home. It's in the details my friend. The shoes you don't have wiped cause you think no one sees, she has the spotless to the sole. But we notice, it registers in our mind when we see untidy shoes and we know what kind of a girl you are. What did you think paying attention to detail was?

I met her at the bank, the bank queues? You know about them? I don't like Equity in real life but I like it in theory. The queues are so long and that's why I never bank there. They run from the counter to your house farm where you milk your cows so don't hurry, you will queue. The air is not easy it's heavily bad.

I like CfC Stanbic cause they have a bell. Satisfied customers are meant to ring it after they are done. I don't ring it cause am not that brave, and loud in my complements. Maybe I should get a bell for my room, if she likes it she can ring it, we can do it again!

I met her at the bank I bank with, the one they call me by my name. I don't bank with people who keep asking for my name, and I will pay more to have my ego caressed. You only live once don't you. That's why when I saw her I...

"sorry, sorry, sorry..."

I dropped my papers on her legs. And she tried to bend to help me pick them up but her skirt was too short. She felt guilty for not helping me keep up. So she said...

"sorry."

"no problem..."

And that is how we started to talk. That is how it begun. If a stranger said Hi to me no matter how fly she is, I would run, as in run away, probably even swim away from the continent she is in. Cross the ocean for her, to get away from her. But if she dropped her books accidentally like I did. Paths are crossed, people are met, life happens.

Life happened all right. She is one of a kind. For now get an excuse to say Hi to me, I was taught not to talk to strangers. Maybe one day I will be friendly... Someone tell that girl in a white top am sorry I ran away from her when she greeted me. *waves goodbye and walks out of this post*

Friday 25 May 2012

"nani still wets his bed?"

Is it growing up really? I thought growing up was not wetting your bed. Which I wetted till class seven. Damn class seven, I dated then, and I still wet my bed, but it's alright cause the girls still loved me, and the boys still respected me. I love the way my life turned out.

"nani, still wets his bed..."

And we would all laugh.

"but still pia Bobby wets his bed."

And the topic would change. Double standards, I loved it. I only wish I didn't laugh so loudly at short people, I didn't know I wouldn't grow much vertically after I laughed that much at them, shock on me. But I still laugh at people who aren't that tall, even though am not that tall too. What can I say, I am me. Aren't you you? Or you want to be someone else?

It's easy to want to stay in the past, think the same way, do the same things the same way. I for one want to throw a party, drive to 240km per hour, without my seat belt on, play loud music with the windows rolled down. But am not feeling it any more. I want to stay relevant, you know loud music in a car is so natural, and windows open too. They get you attention, and earns you respect depending on the car you are driving. 

But it can't always be like that, I can't look for respect the same way I used to.

"my guy, wassup, "

"am good,"

"how you doing?"

"where are your shorts and polo shirts and stuff?"

"I don't wear them as much these days, catch me weekends."

"what happened man?"

"...just lenga that vibe."

I guess you learn a couple of things when you are thrown in the streets, into buildings where terrorism is a threat and people must be searched. And sometimes it's a bother when every single morning you walk into a building...

"can I see what's in your bag..."

And you have to stand there with your shorts, no matter how well structured they are, and no matter how leather your shoes are...showing some idiot guard what is in your bag.

At some places when you wear a tie you get searched. Everyone is on shorts and tennis shoes, golf shoes and Nike track suits. 

"boss, habari..."

And an easy pair of suit trousers, and a shirt, combed hair and no shorts my damn bag never gets searched. My freaking damn bag never gets searched. 

I don't think it's growing up, I think am just becoming more intelligent. The relationship between Luis Vuitton and getting laid is a theory that has some serious major holes in my thoughts right now. And I really do feel sorry when am standing with a guy and he is like...

"that's easy for you to say..."

"you know, if I was driving I could date her..."

And it gets tiring to have to explain to the fellow that, hey. Women think they want certain things, men think they want certain things but what we think could be wrong.

"whatever man, it's not the same..."

"why do you want that girl?"

"easy, I want to bang her..."

"so you've taken her home and bang her, then..."

"then am happy."

"so now that you are happy then what..."

"aish Bob, c am just happy."

I leave the guy, I walk up to the girl the guy was staring at, I come back with her. (she is my friend, yes I have fly friends, you should ask for a hook up)

"dear, this guy wants to have sex with you..."

"what? NO!"

You should see the look on his face, priceless. The chic looks at me as if it is obvious for me to say such a thing. She actually thought I was lying. I guess sometimes when one is so truthful people think you are lying right? It's all about presentation. Heard me? It's all about presentation!

"are you serious, how could you tell her that Bob?"

"easy man..."

"apana easy kitu gani, fuck now I have no chance with her..."

"so what are you going to do?"

"am going to go apologize to her..."

"do you think she will listen to you, do you think she knows you?"

"how could she forget me Bob after you pulled that stupid stunt."

I smile.

"my point exactly, now she knows you... You were invisible to her. You should be thanking me you kuku"

So we talked some more, obviously as we watched beautiful people passing heading to class. And going to the root of things, he actually didn't like her that much, he wanted her cause everyone wanted her, and if he could have her whilst everyone was unable to have her then probably we would look up to him. He is the man! He is the man. Nini? Hakuna!

"Boss, mpaka siku gani man?"

"we gota stop this..."

"so we wear suits and boss around people instead?"

"that's a plan"

"am working with incompetent people, idiots, I didn't know I was working with such... GET OUT, GET OUT YOU ALL FIRED!"

"no, really, this is the end of this post. Thanks for dropping by."

Saturday 19 May 2012

My Girlfriend dumped me ~ So am gonna make the whole world PAY! (guest post)


You go out on a date. It doesn’t work out. Next weekend, you meet another mama. Again, it doesn’t work out. It just seems like nothing is working out. Life’s a bitch huh! Then, for a long period of time, you don’t meet anyone. You begin to get anxious and nervous: I must have lost my mojo right?

All you can think about is how badly you need and want a relationship.

You can never badly need and want a relationship. Sign it in your head as boolshit.

Then — finally — you a mama! And it feels promising. You’re dating, you’re going out, you’re sleeping together. She’s meeting your friends. The problem is, she’s not right for you. You know it. She complains too much. about everything. She’s not clean – she doesn’t clean her sheets pretty often. Her lady parts don’t smell very fresh. Kinda like fish! ~ Yeah! fish! And then again, she complains too fuckin much. over everything. But still you fall for her because you’ve finally found someone to share your time with. You dot think its a big deal if you guys parted ways, cuz you don’t really -really like her, but you still feel like hanging on. You’re going steady, starting to form a real relationship, but it feels like a bit of a struggle. Like you have to try really hard to like her. and when you promise her shit you have to swallow hard. Cuz her lifestyle is not like yours. Cuz she is too damn negative. Cuz she just makes you miserable. You know she likes you, but you don’t really like her the same way that she likes you. she thinks you do. she actually thinks that you like her even more  than you really do – - and you even do things to make her feel like this, or you are just being yourself, but the feeling is not mutual.

But the sex is good! You are in love with the way she has multiple orgasms and that just makes you feel like a man!

Then the inevitable happens. Once again, a woman goes and breaks your heart. not as damaging as the first love – - not even nearing, but still, breaking a heart is breaking a heart. Its not a big deal, but still you feel bad. you know its for the better, but still, you have that ka-thing that makes you feel bad.

Revenge Dating


So what do you do now? You swallow that boolshit. Instead, you now want revenge on your girlfriend — well, ex-girlfriend. You want revenge on every woman who’s ever faulted you, every woman who has ever caused you any pain and misery. Any woman who has ever hurt you in the past is now going to get payback through all the women out there whom you haven’t met yet.

you start having multiple sex with several chics at the same time – with protection! hehehehe!

You’re on a mission to get back at the women who have hurt you. You tell yourself that you’re just going to go out and sleep with them, use them, abuse them, and have your way with them. You’re going to get even with all the women who have never called you back, all the women who rejected you in a bar, and, most of all, your last girlfriend, who hurt you and broke your heart.

How does this sound to you?

To me it sounds pretty stupid.

Have you ever had these feelings?

Does it sound healthy, does it sound sane, does it sound right?

Getting revenge on new people for what you went through in the past is ridiculous. The reason why you got hurt in the first place is because you weren’t aware of the woman you were with.You were dating based out of need. And it was your fault. especially that last one. Because you let it happen to you. and with the girl of your dreams. Well. It happened. God knows why it happened.

Whenever this happens, you’re going to be blind to that person’s true colors. You’re likely to find somebody who will take advantage of you. Why? Because they have the upper hand and you don’t. You’ll tolerate anything to keep those mamaz in your life... (continue on link) http://thebookofchrysostom.wordpress.com/page/5/

Wednesday 16 May 2012

One way to lose a girl.

There are many ways to lose a girl, here is one you have never thought of before. Remember just because you don't believe me doesn't make what I say untrue.

I hate it when women think that when they have sex they are losing out, I dislike the fact that they are the ones to give sex and men are the once to receive. But again, in some weird way that sometimes becomes a turn on. Is she really giving it to me? Is she really giving it to me? And it pours.

"wake up Bobby, wake up it's morning."

"I need to go to work Bobby, I need to go to work"

"cab money Bobby, cab money"

Get my wallet, it is in the dressing room on the hammock. There are three reactions when she holds your wallet. 

One, would be disappointment and almost anger. That's when you don't have anything in it. But you know about money matters, people are very polite about it cause it's close to heart. No one tells you out right, you don't have money, so you can't! It's insensitive. But it's okay to be a little angry when the guy you banged last night has an empty wallet. No cab money, angry!

The second reaction a girl could have when they find your wallet is the pleasant one. It is not very polite to over smile when someone hands you a cheque, you are supposed to act like it isn't a big deal. Even though it's very impressive and you want to scream out yes! That's why sometimes when a girl wants to show a guy she is something, she wears a dress that shows off her curves, when a guy wants to show a girl that he is something, he doesn't whip out his seven inch in a restaurant, he whips out a large note from his wallet, and gives it as a tip to the waiter. To show he is ready to spend. If attraction is a game, then showing off is one of the many ways to win the game. 

The third reaction a girl could have when she sees your wallet is the reaction that drives her away. It's a way to lose a girl. You can do well only to a certain extent before people start hating you. 

"can I have some cab money?"

"Bobby, wake up, cab fare"

And I turn the other side wrapped in my bedsheets, I point at my trouser. She picks it comes to the bed and seats next to me as I sleep. And when she is quiet for a while then I know it is bad news. If she doesn't pick anything for too long I know it is very bad news. 

Then everything that impressed her the night before turns into the feelings one gets when someone shows off to you. The things you have no longer impress her, they become like a needle that pokes her.

She will be done with the wallet pick something, she will touch your iPod, look at it, then throw it on the bed politely, but you can tell she is a little angry.

And that is where my shit begins...I have to start impressing her all over again, cause I know if she leaves feeling like that she is gone for good. Was the sex alright?

"can I make you breakfast dear?"

"am late for work"

"I have these coffee that will keep you up the whole day, and you and me both know you didn't sleep well..."

She laughs, cause she knows I always convince her to take coffee. And in the kitchen I know how sexy works. I know it so well, License 2 Grill, always plays in the background as I text or do other things waiting for news which I watch with lights off like a movie these days by the way.

I know what's sexy about cooking. It's being elaborate. It's being grand. It's about getting a side dish for everything, a bowl for the eggs, egg handlers, it's about cracking an egg into two and letting the egg in the egg pour like a water fall. 

It's all about how you do your things in the kitchen that turn her wet. Taking the pan, tossing the pancakes, making it all look so easy, working with your hands, showing off that skill, that you don't quite have but you are so arranged, you use so many spoons and knives, for this and that, you pour cold water into a hot pan so that it can make that shhhh noise. That impresses her.

My goodness, just try it, try being sexy in the kitchen. It makes everything just right however upset she might seem.

"...maybe I will just have breakfast, it's not like the boss comes early anyway"

When we are done, I let her seat on the bar stole in the kitchen, I seat adjacent to her, and tell her what I did to pass my exam.

"are you kidding, I want your phone I want to hear it right now..."

"are you serious, you read all your notes aloud and recorded then in your phone?"

"how comes you don't let them play on your big speakers as we sleep all night?"

I place my phone in my pocket, my back pocket and seat on it. How can I let her hear my voice recorded talking about Constitutional Law and shit. 

"I expected you to be turned off, I shouldn't be telling you personal things such as those..."

"Bobby, I know not everyone does that, but I think it's pretty impressive, but also somehow lazy, how do you just study sleeping."

"ahh c I figured, if we remember songs that we don't actually listen to but play in the background, then why don't I use the same trick to study..."

Life is short. Have some fun. Live your life.

Fabulously Miserable.



Everyone gives their hearts, souls, bodies, mind and life to something. It's human I guess. You can give yourself to happiness. Which means whenever you are faced by options everyday, you will choose the one that makes you happy. You might even go all the way date someone who wears lipstick on her nose so that it is red and she can make you laugh like a clown does.

We all give ourselves to something, or at least a part of ourselves. If you choose not to make a decision to what to give yourself up to, you have chosen to choose not to care. It's a good life.

I spent my childhood wondering why the hell I was on earth, so please don't try compare yourself to me. Yes, I missed banyo. But it's not that bad. I spent time with Nickelodeon and FTV; was my x-rated guilty pleasure. You know sometimes the bosom shows on those runways.

"why are we here?"

You can imagine how shocked the looks on older peoples' faces where when I asked that. I used to wink at my teachers before I knew what winking meant, especially the English teacher, she was something, and I promise you it destabilized them. I found football very useless, cause I simply didn't understand for what reason one would chase a round leather bag full of air trying to get it through two posts. For what? What purpose. Now I know better?

So I chose women, cause they kind of made me feel, I don't know. And since people gave me really shallow answers about why they are on earth, I went searching. Where?

Internet. Yeah, internet, I joined Facebook in 1956 by the way! No, really, I went searching in books. I went through books and books, I got psychology books, I loved them more cause they were more sensible than my science book. I used to ask myself, so now that I know how a flower grows, so what? Photosynthesis, so what? 

But then as I read psychology, and such things as sociology, it made sense. I could read some stuff, then look at it in real life.

...so, a man without his basic needs is most likely going to dedicate part of his life to getting the basic needs, food, shelter, clothing, blogs (hehe) and after they get these, they want stuff like love. So you can't love with an empty stomach?

That stuff made sense to me. Then I found these book, which simplified religion for me and life generally, Purpose Driven Life. It was a best seller. The guy actually came to my school in high school, I almost cried when I saw him. As in the guy who wrote the book that simplified everything for me. I had read the book about a hundred times, it just gave me direction. He told us to never forget one thing...

"Never stop learning..."
"never believe you know everything..."

And something else I forget but I practice. It's amazing how you learn so much, then you come back down to the basics. The best way to live is, to smile a little, to love a little, to pray a little, to laugh a little, to party much? To party as hard as you work, not cause you need to cause you have everything; but cause it keeps you alive, so I went looking for the perfect life to live, and I came back to living a normal life, but with much greater understanding of it.

Ask me why family is there? Ask me why a little humor is good? I have studied humor. Oh aren't I impossible. You better grab a gun if you cracked a joke and everyone but me laughs, I would explain to you the parts of your joke. No one likes their jokes explained, cause they are just that, a joke...

Haya, this is the punch line, this is the surprise part, this joke is funny cause it just so real. And we kind of laugh when people tell us real things, how we react when we are in jam and stuff like that. Or when we just joke, as in the word itself, simply not serious. Seriously Bobby? Yes seriously.

I decided giving my time and my life to one thing was shallow, so I decided to give it to a couple of things, love, family, friends, philanthropy, nice cars, big houses, small acts of kindness, understanding the world, squeezing hot women, seafood, trying to create knowledge as well as the mastery of it, such stuff. Stuff life is made of.

You wouldn't survive in my mind. I can tell cause when I start to talk my thoughts run wild.

"that chic has such a good reputation."
"who?"
"she is a politician..."

"so what's a good reputation?"

I ask the people am talking to, and everyone looks at me like am covered in mud (pun intended). A good reputation is just that they say. I don't believe it's just that cause, a good reputation requires there be 'people' who are supposed to perceive you as of good reputation.

How would you have a good reputation if you were in an island alone? Flowers and trees are the ones to perceive you as of good reputation? Come on, they only eat as in make their own food, they photosynthesize those flowers! They can't hold you in good reputation, kazi yao niku kuka tu. And people around me start getting irritated, am taking the discussion to the sea and they are on land.

But they are my pals so I push cause as irritated as they get I know they can condone my nonsense. 

I believe for there to exist a good reputation you have to have people, the larger the number the better. Let's say the whole country knew your name. Let's start with that.

Then after they know you they have to know you for something. What do they know you for? Good reputation? Good is too broad a term. A lot can be good, good is good, kindnesses is good, bad can be good to some people. You know about hot messes?

"as in a good reputation people perceive you positively."

I promise you they were looking to the floor for stones to stone me with, but I can't stop, cause there are no stones within there reach. 
You do realize that people are different, you could have one person and people like them for entirely different reasons. You could have one person who people look up to and people look up to them for the same reason. Ask people what they like about a politician? See how many different answers you get for the same politician.

"okay, okay bob, let's imagine everyone has the same opinion of a politician, let's say they like her cause she has their interest at heart."

Okay, let's assume that everyone in the country knew her name, then let's imagine everyone believed she had their interest at heart, and that's where she gets her good reputation from, what is it's use to her? Reputation can persuade, it can be your ambassador, but is that what she wants a good reputation for? How useful is a good reputation good for her?

"you guy come on!"

I can see them play with the remote, turn the volume up and down slowly. No one wants to talk, the one who is talking is talking to me cause her emotions are arosed. Imagine a sufuria of boiling water. Some people leave arguments, some leave by zoning out and watching the television and most of the time they don't notice they are doing this. I still have one person fighting with me, and am happy, so I keep on. Take it as far as I can.

"people look up to her."

What if she doesn't know people look up to her? You can be beautiful, but if everyday someone told you you are the ugliest person in the world, you would believe that. Wouldn't you? 

"no, am beautiful!"

Yes, you are. So many people are beautiful but they don't believe they are. 

"what does all this have to do with reputation?"

"am just saying there is no one answer for everything."

There are so many variables in real life situations, it's not a book, life, car breaks work perfectly well in a physics book, but when you come to real life situations, there is oil on the road, there is rain. But I could be wrong about so many things, I don't believe anyone is right, but I believe it is best to try to be more right than everyone else; those are the ones that make it. Those that try a little more than everyone else are the ones who form societies cream.

"but there are some people who haven't gone to school?"

Has anyone ever taught you how to flirt? Did you have to go to school to learn how to flirt? You wore a short skirt once and you got hit on. You don't have to think about touching your hair to get a guy to notice it when you are flirting with him. You don't  have to be told that someone is not in the mood to talk to you, you don't have to think it. Your heart tells you. You just stop talking.

She had turned her head and was now watching the television. My voice went quiet. 

Do you think you can survive having to process all that as you talk? Notice why someone is touching her hair, someone is touching her phone for you to notice it, turning up the volume, as you still listen to what they are saying attentively. Do you think you can rationalize such many things all in a second? Is it a curse? I don't  want to call it that, but it's torture, but sweet torture; living a fabulously miserable life? And I think that's what is going to make me great. 

I know what I want to do, I want to wear a nice black suit, cause it's powerful.  Dark suits aren't powerful cause dark suits are powerful, dark suits are  powerful cause powerful people wear black suits, so when you see a well-fitting black suit  you don't need to treat the guy with a little more keenness. You just do.

In other cultures, if you wore a gold watch, thousands of chains around you neck, they will know you are a powerful man. But here? I don't know. I don't think so, they like combed hair and shit like that.

I want to be in a black suit, I have given my life to that, I have given my life to getting people justice, I am ready to seat in an office, probably with large windows, definitely with large windows, spacious office, natural light, at night I want to see street lights. I want to sleep in the office. When I lack inspiration I count the city lights or the shooting stars or count sheep if am in Mombasa town, I promise you I have seen sheep in CBD in Mombasa. Huku raha tele, mpaka mbuzi watembea town usiku, waenda clubs.

I want my girlfriend to drop by at midnight with something for me to eat as i seat in my office past midnight. I hope she gives me a little bang bang to get me all fired up. I want to wear proper silk ties, natural silk. I don't want everyone to know it's value, I want only a few to realize how good it is like painting. And I will bang those chics that recognize it.

And I will make sure I spend my life getting my hands dirty, I don't think I will be able to sleep if I got outsmarted by some other lawyer and therefore my client ended up getting half what should be his.

I know how to live, it's in my blackberry, don't forget to text your friends, don't forget to blog, don't forget to pray, don't forget to eat, don't forget to go to the library, don't forget to go out enjoy yourself, don't forget to balance. Keep it normal, but better than average always.

If I lost my blackberry, if I lost my toDo list, which has a reminder to remind me to eat. If I lost my BB, I might die like an old Dina the dinosaur starving trying to study and research on why when you are so real about who you are, people are fascinated and see it as personality.

Thursday 10 May 2012

The mechanics of a break up.


International law class starts in around thirty minutes, so I got to kill this by that time. You asked me to write faster, then here it is.

I wish my alarm clock went off with coffee. Have you noticed that if you wake up sip a whole mug of coffee, then go back to bed, your body will just wake up by itself after ten minutes? I call it coffee O'clock. We invented it partying. When the girls decide they need to sleep between 7pm and midnight. You don't wake them up to go out, you wake them up and pour MacCoffee in their system. And wait for ten minutes for it to kick in.

This wasn't at night, this wasn't about partying, it was about work, it was morning at around 8am, I had a Criminal Law book in my hand, to match with the exam that was coming up. I didn't want women, I didn't want parties, I wanted books, plus a dose of coffee to stimulate me to study. It was one of those days you know will be dull from the morning. And you hoped it remains that way, why?

Cause when you are in the exam room, and you start wondering what everyone else is writing, there could be only two things wrong, they could all be writing wrong things, or you could be just about to write wrong things. Not yet writing but just about to write cause when you don't study and you dint have content, it's guess work isn't it? That's when you en-largen your handwriting you need to feel the pages don't you, with what? Guess work and an exam paper is not a blog. Your imagination doesn't just cut it.

I know the exam paper is not a blog. So I was busy studying, phone on silent mood no distractions.

Knock. Knock. Knock. I ignored. But you know, not believing something doesn't make it go away or untrue.

"hiiiiiiiiii"
"hi"
the shorter hi was mine. Not interested. She throws her hand bag on the sofa. Oh no she is staying. 
"can I get you something to drink? Breakfast?"
...can you please leave.

"no"
"okay"
She seats down, turns on the television. 

"I've changed my mind... what do you have?"
"ummh eggs, sausages, serial...porridge?"

She laughs. She looks for movies, so I know she will be staying a while. Why doesn't she care that I have exams? Why can't she let me read? She only cares about herself? I never disturb her when she has exams. 

I fixed her breakfast, I sat with her as she had it. I watched every slice she picked, I hoped the coffee would cool off first, eat up, eat up, so that I can leave you watching telly cause I need to go study for my exams. I need to study.

"are you okay? You look sad?"

"...am okay."

"no, you look sad."

"...am okay."

She wasn't taking her breakfast anymore. Finish it, finish it. Please. Why is she so selfish. She totally did everything possible to make sure I didn't study. She pulled my trousers down. She made me pull her top up. You can't stop when someone lets you pull her top up. Even though you have books to read, there could be a fire in the house, but if her skirt is up, for a moment you find yourself weighing your options. How could I resist.

It was fun, like it normally is when you want it badly; then you decide to just do anyone, when it's all done, when you are more rational than animal, you get upset at yourself for what you did. She was hot. I didn't get upset about that. I got upset at her not caring about my needs. She didn't feel like attending her morning class, so she came to my place to disturb me as I studied for exams, she did not feel like watching televison and letting me read, she didn't care that I had exams, instead of letting me read in the next room, she came to make me come. Which is good, but the timing is selfish.

"we go out?"

"why?"

"we go for coffee..."

"but I have exams."

"you look sad, you are sad you need to be happy."

"but I have exams,"

"come on, loosen up" 

She asks me to join her in the shower, but I dont, I need the energy to read. It's already lunch time. Exams are around the corner, every minute counts. And she is wasting my minutes. 

She decides it's her treat, so we go walking in town, she tells me she is taking me to some place new...I want to give up. I want to snap. I want to be angry at her.

"...why aren't you walking."

"you refuse to tell me where we are going,... we have been walking round and round for half an hour"

"you can't just stand in the middle of the streets."
She pulls my arms. I stand my ground.

"tell me where we are going, am not leaving until you tell me."

"please lower your voice..."

I want to tell her, she is a selfish little bitch, she wants what she wants, when she wants it, how she wants it with absolutely no regards for my interest. She looks around, and points at a hotel.

"Royal court?"

"ye--- yes?"

"that was random..."

"no, we going there,"

So we walk in, the guards search me a second time cause of the drama I was causing on the road. They stop searching when they see my phone. But you can't tell a watchman akona ubaguzi. But he can tell you that. It's acceptable. 

"we seat at the bar?"

"cool"

I love the view from up there. The windows. The dinning room has wine glasses set, knives forks and all else. The view is in the sky, so it's so beautiful and blue. The pool. Rooftop bliss. Even the television sounded nice there. And it was tuned to KBC.

I thought she was happy cause finally she was using my credit card. What I didn't know was actually, she was happy that I was finally happy. What I didn't know that when she came to my place and found me sad, she decided I was stressed by my books, she wasn't being selfish, all she was doing was trying to distract me from my being stressed. 

Anyways, I know that now, I didn't know it then.

"cappuccino?"

"yes,"

"two cappuccino please."

"can we have it with cake?"
"it comes with cake,"
"are you serious?"

The waiter didn't reply, cause waiters there are snobs, I left a tip for a hundred and something bob, and he still didn't smile. I guess it's the culture. I love the place though.

"am glad you are happy"

She said. I was glad she was. But I wished she took care of my interest to. She didn't tell me how I was feeling, she thought what was good for me would be to be away from books, I thought what was good for me was to be with books. But since we don't communicate, we screw up.

"excuse me, let me go to the ladies..."

"cool"

She spends around fifteen minutes. I don't know where she went but when she came back. She was smelled like a guy. Where did she get guys perfume? Oh. I know must be a quickie. 

"bill?"

"but am not yet done,"

"I need to go back home."

"leta bill tu..."

The waiter left us arguing. How could she pretend she didn't know what she had done. And she tried to hold my hand. Yeah. I wasn't friendly as you guessed.

We forget experiences, that's what I think, we forget that we went out with a girl who turned us into wing men, coming back smelling of guy. Women get mad when they get into an argument with you in the street. But we forget all these happenings, but our heart seems to remember them as emotion.


Thats why when I look at her now, I feel like I hate her, she feels like she hates me. I wish I asked her what was the reason for her keeping me distracted from my studying, probably I would have told her, honey, am sad am reading for my exams, but am happy you have my interest at heart only that my interest is to read right now. It is not to be happy.

I forgot about the guys perfume on her. But my heart is supposed to protect me when my mind forgets. So what happens is I just feel like I hate her, so I keep off. And if I asked her? Hey? 

"why do you all of a sudden smell like a guy?"

"ah you noticed."

"why?"

"some chics like wearing masculine deodorants,"

Maybe we would be together just maybe if we talked and not made horrible assumptions. Forgot those horrid assumptions in our minds but our hearts remembers them, and they come to us as negative feelings. Maybe.

Wednesday 9 May 2012

6% to 1%


I got 6% of battery life to finish this. Soon the 5% low battery warning will show. I have the charger here but I don't want to attach this. The music playing in my earphones is loud. It feels like...

Five, four, three, two, dead. That's how I feel. And you know I don't actually fear anything now but hell. I am never going there. But everything else am not afraid of. The song playing in my ears is sad but it's fast paced that's kind of how my life is, ironic.

There love is not unconditional, they want to leave cause I have slowed down on everything that made this this. The condoms, the splashes, the asses, the models and three sums. I have been there, done that. I know the drill. I know how it feels to be left. But this time I know it will be a whole fresh level of pain.

I had a girl once, you stayed with me cause it was simply a perfect rush. The harder I fell, the more in love she became. The more it turned her on.

I stopped at her gate to pick her up. One day, the car was mashed, I got an accident at the worst place, a petrol station. I got it from my arrogance and I could see her eyes sparkle every time I fucked up. See her walking out of her house with a bottle of wine in her hand and her dress. Watching me in a mashed car, she actually lifted up her skirt for me. As she screamed.

"oh, my, what happened this time???"

And I could see that smile. It was sincere, it was beautiful. I could get into whatever amount of car accidents to have that smile. To have her smile at me like that. 

She was with me, she loved me, but she seemed to hope that one day I will confess to having a kid somewhere around, or a number of them. I didn't go that far to please her. But I went quite far.

I skipped exams, I drove to the speedometers ends, I got into car races, I pretended I didn't have a break pedal, when I made a turn, the coffee poured off the car cup, don't wipe I will have it cleaned honey,  we were all pushed to the edge of the car, she loved that; they scared me, but anything to fit into the character everyone wants for me but me. I loved it then but. Classic story, boy went to good schools, boy got spoon fed, boy couldn't coupe with high school, boy got suspended, boy gives family bad name. All the shit that makes her wet. But boy still gets everything success is somehow. Classic attraction.

I remember once we were almost banned from a hotel. Who gets a suspension letter from a hotel? Who does that? Inappropriateness, why? Cause we run the place? No? Fuck it.

I can't keep up being that wild, i don't know how she will react when I stop destroying myself to find her approval. She  wants to hear about a triangle of girls around me, three sides to the twist, not a circle. 
She wants to hear that I lived a party, waking up fucked, with people I don't know, with models. She loved the parties, the pent house once. The ones where the management asked room service to tell us to keep noise down. They also loved how we partied, that's why they let us. The pool is usually banned at night. But how do you stop college chics jumping into the pool without swimming costumes? Borrowing boxers from the guys to swim? They let us swim at night, eat in the pool. She loved the parties. I loved that she loved them. I loved them cause they made women crowd around me, and that made her want me more. So she allowed it. Then cried after. Made me promise her that I was with her, in spite of, she made me promise as we did it. She even cried sometimes. A joyful one.
"I am yours."
"I am yours."
"you are mine." 
We shook. I poured. She clenched. It was champagne, and her water fall. Then we slept like nothing happened. She loved those. She took photos even though at such parties we don't allow camera phones. I guess sometime in the future they will show up somewhere, that's why when am done using a phone I destroy. Delete is an illusion in tech world. Explicit photos are like cigarettes, it never just leaves the phone that took it.

She loves it when my name is dragged in mud, she loves to see me fall, it's classic wonderful story, it excites her. But I liked her, she is classic beauty, she is kind, she is a darling, but I know it's time to say goodbye.

She doesn't yet know it, but she will leave. When the parties become more private, with the number of people on the bed reducing, with more clarity, with words like responsibility coming along she will leave. 

And maybe everyone else that is her friend will leave. But I will accept this, I will accept it like death. I don't want her to leave, I love the way she looks at me, with such admiration for my screw ups, my suck ups. I can tell she genuinely wants to save me, but I don't think she wants me actually saved. Have you ever meet a woman who wants to save you? Then its a success. For how long will she be able to stick around before she finds another man to save? Will she stick around after you are done with you reckless? 

I don't know whether the gradual change that happens on me she will handle, I might come off as boring. I already feel dead her leaving me, I already feel dead leaving the life I knew slowly. And I don't see the point of leaving sometimes. Three sums and all. Do people really change? You know about questions such as that you hear but you never think it will apply to you. Questions like what you would do if you were car jacked, you disregard it like it will never happen to you? And one day it just happens, your legs literally melt and you half faint, you legs let you fall half way, but you rise up cause you got to survive.

"...you love me don't you?"

We stop on the road some place between two towns, a random trip, the ones she loves.

"we park a little further from the road I show you something..."

"what?"

"a thank you for a lovely weekend."

You are going to leave me, I know you don't know it yet, I wish you wouldn't. But at the end of the day, I can't possibly carry myself the way I did, I have found a greater path, it might not thrill her as much. But it keeps me alive. And I need to feel like that now that I feel like am dying.

I know the next chapter has something else, guns, knives, passion, risks so it might thrill. But again it might not. But am leaving, cause at the end of the day she only care about herself, she only cares about seeing me fail, to entertain her. The appeal of the screw up that never fails cause he was born right. 

Am leaving! Maybe not today, cause Rome wasn't built in a day, I am leaving, I feel it, I truly hope it's better where I go. It should be full of adventure, it has guns, criminals and justice. Words that might not turn her on. I know lawyers have a certain appeal, I don't want that appeal, I have a weak heart, it doesn't beat for me as much as it beats for another. My heart beat can die if I don't let it beat for another's plight. 

To me, it will not be so much about nice suits and tie pins. To me it will be about, this is a person who was robbed made to kneel done before his family, with hooligans stealing all his got. And leaving. But they got caught, they are in court. And if I don't stand for such a father, if I don't make sure the men that kill and destroy aren't looked up behind bars. Why the fuck am I turning this law books, I can't fail. I can't? How do you fail a man, a mother, a person that comes to your office and gives you such a tale? And asks you to make sure the animals that did that to them are looked up? My heart has always beat for another more than it has beat for me. That's how I know am on the right path.

Who will I meet there? I don't know? Who will move with me? I don't know. Will I find love there like I found here? I don't know. But am brave, am leaving. 

If where I go doesn't turn her on, it will scare her to pee. Which is not as bad as silence. Silence is death. And where I go I might die too... It's a possibility. The risk of doing my work right.

I might never find a place of love such as this, I might never succeed. But I will not leave like this, not now, not today. I must be brave. I must strive for something greater than the pleasures of two skirts on the floor at the same time. Now, now my dears, don't lose heart. There is always one bra on the floor. 

1%

Tuesday 8 May 2012

Is it your decision? Or her's?



One day you wake up and decide, this is the woman am gona have babies with, this is the lady that I will build my life around. These are the number of kids am gona have. I will name the girl Sue and the boy Bill. Cause I love the idea of family and I love to sue and bill for it. You know, a little lawyer joke.

You wake up one morning mosquitoes are feasting on you like you the only one in Mombasa, you get mad, so mad you decide you will get an electric wick for each room in the house, and a net for your bed. You have had enough.

I woke up in the morning from the sound of my door bell. It was a Sunday morning, who could be at the door at 4am.

I open up and see a girl seated on the stairs, she is wearing a black dress that starts way below her neck and ends way before her knees. Her heels are taller than your fat wallet. Her breath is recking of alcohol.

"...are you okay? Come in come in."

You let her in. You don't ask what's wrong, you rash to the kitchen and get her water. You give her some, you wish there was milk. There is milk in the fridge but it expired a month ago, and the house help didn't throw it out, you haven't thrown it out cause it will make the dust bin stink so you live it in the fridge. The life of a bachelor.

"have some water it will make you feel better?"

"no..."

"come on, please for me, have some water and this panadol, you will feel better."

And she sips it and she starts to cry. You don't want to hold her but you must. So you hold her as friends even though before you were more than friends. But life happened and you drifted apart.

I want to ask what's happening, why she is here but I can't. Okay, I can but it's rude, so I can't, but i feel like i can't can't ask her, but I truly can't ask cause she might think I want her to leave, she is drunk but I still fear if I asked her why she was here, with her tears in her eyes. It will hit her in the face like the presence of police men do, that gets people sober in seconds. She might get hurt by my words.

"...am here don't worry, am here."

I hold her. Those words seem to make her cry even more... Am I the one that made her like this. Was it cause I decided we couldn't be together, even though we were together and not together together like she wanted? Did I break her heart and turn her into this?

I know what happens when a heart is broken, I know it so well. Someone tells you you aren't good enough for them, and you spend your life trying to be good enough for everyone else. Or you decide to hurt everyone by telling them they aren't good enough for you. It happens. Did I make her turn into this? She was a good girl. She now drinks too much, she is hardly ever home, she tells me that she loved me cause when she asked me not to pour just yet I didn't. And if you infer from that it shows you she has already had other experiences, not one others in a span of just a year?

"am I the one that turned you into this?"

She looks at me and laughs. It's as if I am joking, and I knew very well I was serious. Yet she still talked to me like I had a red nose like a clown, with a colored face like Jokers. Trying to make her laugh like I was an amusement park.

"you blame yourself too much...am okay, am just having fun?"

I give her her water and I give her her panadol. I don't want her waking up with a hang over. It would kill her and if she has a head ache she will give me that head ache, I know her too well.

"what is fun?"

"...you know just going out."

"who were you with?"

"my friends..."

"do they know you left?"

"no they were busy..."

"doing what?"

"just busy having fun."

Short answers. Raising voice. I left that matter. It was a touchy spot for her. I blame myself. I blamed myself, what kind if a person am I? That the people around me fall down like she was? Drunk, but that's nothing, drugs, out without true friends. Where were her friends?

Friends are meant to be there to take care of you, right? When you are lost they remind you! You are a lawyer first and not a writer. Friends are there to tell you, you have to have direction, even if it's shoddy direction you have to have one. It might be as simple as to go to Paris at the end of the year. Or as ridiculous as to throw the best birthday party next year.

And no one gave her direction. Where were her friends? If she wanted to have the best birthday party next year. She wouldn't let herself cross roads that drunk. Even at your most lowest point, when you have purpose you kind of take care of yourself.

"...you are my friend."

"what???"

It was as if she was reading my mind. I knew if I came here you would let me in no matter what. I knew if I called you to come get me from where I was you would come. You made me promise you I would get you a walk in wardrobe when I start working. Right about when you promised you would be my lawyer. 

Then she threw up on my trousers. Dammit. Yeah friends my foot!

"sorry, sorry, sorry..."

"it's okay, it's okay..."

She took my pillow and was about to wipe the floor with it. I grabbed it from her.

"I said it's okay..."

I was raising my voice a little. So I decided what I needed to do was change. Get her to bed. Go shower.

One day you wake up and decide, this is the life I am gona live, this is the person I want to become. You decide you will be a good father, and even though your wife fucks around, you don't revenge by doing the same. If your friends betray you, you don't betray them too as revenge. You simply decide I intend to be the best at what I do. Whether you take me to a place where everyone sleeps at work, whether you take me to a place where I get paid more for doing less, I still strive to be the best. Until you have a better idea of what the best is, you will find me trying to be the best or being the best.

Cause I am a man of simple taste, I only like the best. Don't ask me what's the point of putting so much effort!!! I decided. 

Have you?

 

Monday 7 May 2012

She Wears a Sneer




Spaces at the cafeteria were all filled up. All tables, except one. I had to seat there. I was new. And the food looked nice. Plus it was both an opportunity to make new friends as I tore up my chicken. Talk about killing two birds with one stone over lunch.

"hey"

No one replied. But I wasn't waiting for a reply. I sat down. I put my laptop bag next to my seat comfortably. It was a customized Sony Vaio, I had had it imported from the company itself, it had my name inscribed on it therefore I was very gentle with it. (I miss that thing)
I arranged my salad, my fork and knife on the table. Juice on the right, I even took my napkin, undid it and placed it inside my shirt, I didnt want to soil it, plus I know how to make a statement. Besides you never get a second chance to make a first impression. Unfortunately the girl next to me wasn't.

"last night was awesome man, Sharlocks was the bomb.."

"yeah..."

Everyone around was loudly talking about past experience they shared together in the past. It is the classic strategy to make people who are not in a clique to feel out of place. They splashed confident body movements.  I help but start to feel intimidated, wouldn't you to if you sat at a table where everyone was talking to each other whilst none of them has said a word to you for the for the last five minutes you've been there with them.

It was the first time I knew what it meant to be around so many people yet feeling lonelier than I feel when am alone. Not even one of the perfectly neat groomed ladies or eloquent speaking guys had attempted to talk to me. I thought I was out of place until I was the girl seated next to me to. I could at least eat with my napkin in my shirt collar holding the fork and knife, but she was so intimidated she just played with her food her body coiled as if to protect herself. Whilst the rest had food on the table, no one had touched their food except for Miss.Lonely girl and I. All else were talking more than eating. I couldn't un-eat my kuku!

And that is how I noticed there was a divide. That's how I knew I was out of place. And I couldn't believe myself, this is so westernized, are you kidding? Were they intentionally trying to make me and lonely girl feel out of place? You almost wish you were warned first.

"hey what game is that?"

I asked the fat guy in a shirt that looked like it had been worn the first time. I bet everyday the shirts he wore looked like they had been worn new for the first time. So crispy. He ignored. He actually went on talking to his friend as he pressed buttons erratically on his portable Play Station.

I guess they got hungry when they realized we were not leaving. So they finally pulled all their seats around and started to eat. The loudness of their voices was less pretentious now that they were closer to each other.

"...look at this."

"that's a lovely whip..."

And they passed the magazine all around the table. It was a strategic move to exert social stratification, it was aimed at making lonely girl and I feel unwanted cause we weren't let to see what was in the magazine. But I got a glimpse. It was a Mercedes Benz photo an E class I could tell. The stuff I see at Dt. Dobie when I drop the car there for servicing. 

"you know my mom has a car like that..."

Mr.Fatso with his Play Station let us all know. Yes, it's a KBA. Saw it. Yeah, that's a nice whip. And all the other lovely ladies and gentlemen mentioned the cars there parents drove and some of them drove and what not. 

Miss.Lonely girl must have been new too, just like me, cause I could see she had Orientation notebooks that I to was given when we joined. I figured maybe that's why we being excluded over here. She opened her mouth...

"So how do you guys know you are meant to take this course?"

Silence.

"hey, hey so how do you guys know you are meant to take this course?"

She asked for around three time, she was ignored. But I guess one of the girls felt they were taking it to far. 

"...you just do what your heart tells you you love"

And that's when I got fed up. I dropped the knife and fork on the plate. I turned to the girl next to me. I held her shoulder and looked into her eyes.

"you don't just do what you love, you think about it too, I like kissing, I can't just apply to a university to get taught how to kiss..."

And they were all looking at me now, no iPhones, no Blackberries, no HTCs, no iMacs, no Windows Mobile, no iPods if one of them had a Kindle or knew what it was, they wouldn't be reading it, I had all their attentions...

"for example, I choose to do law cause it's about logic cause I suffer from insomnia and nightmares I wouldn't mind burning that midnight oil, all the reading it requires to me is in fact medicine, chooses to do law cause law is about relationships with other lawyers, it's about relationships with clients, it's about stories, taking real life stories and applying them to law context, and arguing...and at the end of the day it's not earning enough to buy a Mercedes Benz E class model year 1997 like the one on the magazine you just say with a 2010 number plate. That's an old pig with new lipstick applied on the face. It's about buying a Mercedes Benz E class model year 2010 with a 2010 number plate."

And I pulled her from the seat because a true lawyer doesn't leave damsels in distress in a den of lions, she hadn't completed eating but she was glad to leave. We left before they knew what was happening. Before the words sunk in. 

As we walked away I could hear the laughter die down slowly, I could feel it hitting them slowly, i could feel my words sink in them painfully. It's amazing how friendships are formed. Let's go out there, let's find people to save. To me law is not so much a science or a humanity, it is humanity and an art, I love art, especially the art of how to save a life. After law school, I will come, I will see, and I will conquer. 

Saturday 5 May 2012

Good Boy, Bad Boy, Good Girl, Bad Girl...the saga ends!




Being bad is easy, being good is hard. Show me a bad person, and I show you a lazy person. Being bad is so easy cause you only think about yourself, which is very easy, if you decided to be good you will have to think beyond your nose, which is hard.

Once upon in Bobby's life there were three girls, one was bad, one was normal, and the other was a good girl. Now let me tell you how our paths crossed.

"stupid woman"

She slapped the girl right there in public because she wore her dress without telling her. Why do women share clothes? That's besides the point, but I noticed her. She is such a bad girl. She gets talked about.

In the midst of all the public humiliation an angel appeared. She was in jeans and a black top. She went to the girl that was slapped who was crying alone and hugged her.

There were other people in the room, staring at the drama. 


So, the next day my friends and I were seated having Pizza on Tuesday, the day when you buy a pizza and have it twice. Buy one get one free. So soda, pizza, and no girls on the table. What did we talk about? Politics? Cars? Machines? Yes all those plus...

"Do you remember that girl in first year?"

"yeah... The one slapping people all over?"

"yeah... Everyone knows her."

"she's fly?"

And there we were, we knew she was beautiful buy it doesn't hurt to inquire from your boys to find out whether they are of the same opinion.

"by the way, that girl who went to hug that girl that got slapped, was she her friend?"

"...I don't know"

"...but I heard she is new, that was her first day in campus."

"so she didn't even know what was going on?"

"yeah..."

"ai, what's her deal, that's not even normal..."

And we started complaining the cheese on the pizza doesn't strath enough when you bite it. But in all our minds two girls existed. The bad one, and the good one.

You can't love what you don't notice, and to get noticed you need to be dramatic. You can either be dramatic with bad gestures like arrogance, pride, cruelty or you could be with kindness, goodness and selflessness.

Generally, everyone is good. If someone steps on your toes they apologize, so being good will not differentiate you from the crowd. Being simply bad will, you don't even have to be very bad. But if you choose to be good, and for being good to be attractive, it has to be dramatic.

What is dramatic?

Bobby all of a sudden finds himself with a magazine that professes Bad Boys win. He pushes the pizza away from the seat, climbs on the chair, then finds himself on the table, everyone is now watching.

"You've seen that guy on the motorbike, he will break your heart, I will not."

And the security guards threaten to push me out but I seat down before they get to where I am. And I can see the campus girls on the next table giggling and staring at me, and the motorbike guy.

I know, they will be talking about the motorbike guy and I for the next thirty minutes, in the same way we talked about the guy who slapped the girl on second floor, and the hot stranger who wiped her tears.

"Good, is normal therefore boring, being bad and being exceptionally good is dramatic. So at the end of the day it's a race between the good boy and the exceptionally good one... The ones noticed."

Question is, which of the two will destroy themselves in the quest for the finer things in life?

Whose control are you under?





Being here helps you think like it does me. When I don't have anything to say I go back to life and read from it. 

Everyone is a manager, we are all bosses. Freedom vitally makes us bosses of our life, we manage it with the decisions we make. You made a decision to come here, you are your own boss. You make a decision to stay here if you want to, you live the life you choose cause we live where freedom thrives.

I am also free to stay here, or free to pick up all these words, print them out, bind them, then keep them under my bed and view them at every ten year interval. See, how my thinking has changed, observe how my observation of the world is different, or how the worlds observation of the world is different.

There was a time when adverts read "my doctor smokes embassy" cigarettes then were a healthy snack. Look at the current worlds opinion of them? There was a time I posted crying for more viewers, now I want less for reputation reasons. What is really set in stone in this world?

I love the dynamism of it all, I love to observe it, I love to analyze it, I love to think about things, and that's what am doing. I might be wrong, I might be right, everyone might accept that am right, until some other writer comes along with new statistics and I become sort of a laughing stock. My wrong ideas are frozen in ink.

"Bobby, don't lie to us, it is here, in 1997 you wrote..."

And some journalist quotes me. Discrediting me for all am worth. You know what I will tell him? 

"...no one is perfect, but there are people who strive to be perfect and those are the ones that end up winning."

I come here, I talk about the 'embassy smokes adverts' and it forces me to go back to where I love to be the most, my books. Am I making up things or are these facts supported by content.

I have written quite a bit, I have written questionably obscene things, which no one ever speaks loudly about cause of that fact. I have written angelic things, which is how I intend to live my life, cause to me as much as it is living life like there is no tomorrow, there is tomorrow. Party tonight, plan for tomorrow.

And I hope someone out there, that knows me for my words, has been through them and decided that, things can get tough, life can be a bitch, but we keep on, we don't jump over balconies when we try to blog, or do something and it doesn't work. We hang in there until we realize the top seat.

I hope someone has came here, decided that there is no charm in changing lovers like underwear, changing lovers like underwear is rooted on a deep desperate need to be wanted, to be loved, to prove ones worth or to live up to a shitty reputation.

If at the end of the day, I coin a story, have a little drama here, you know... something to entertain, but by the time you are at the last paragraph you decide that, hey what I am doing is good but it is not enough. 

There are people out there who don't eat, there are fathers out there who are afraid of going home with nothing to give their children. And that sons father is the one that cleans your car. And if you had given him a few more hundreds then it will go a longer way than it would when you decide to buy pointless symbols of status that only massage your ego.

Not that massaging your ego is bad. But their is more to life than hanging your nose up high to smell fresher air than the one of the dust on the soil.

We are humans, our systems are human designed, the whole idea of government is ours, we could be wrong, I challenge the very foundation of it. And if I am wrong so be it, if I am right I might be able to stumble upon an idea  that will change the way we love, the way we share, the way we care, the way we live for the better. If I don't I will know I tried.

So I write here, cause when you share your ideas publicly you are questioned, you are commended, we talk, you make friends, you make ties, we think together, we enjoy together, we become humans and not rats that are put in a rat race, to act like machines and not people.

Sometimes I want to go back in time, reorganize the ideas I had in the past to fit the present demand, but I don't.

Cause if just one person went back to the history of all these, amongst learning that nothing really ever happens over night, my past imperfections might be the small voice that whispers 

"...try again"

Whilst the world tells him

"give up"

Thursday 3 May 2012

Everything but a Mind at Peace


I am powerless, I hate that feeling to be unable to protect those you want to protect. But everything is possible, getting that power is, but is that how to live, in readiness for war. Revenge is religiously incorrect, reasonably unwise. So am trapped.

Can I really protect the ones I love? The ones the same blood flows in their veins as mine. Can I talk about them to a beautiful outsider who has found herself as close to my heart to? Life is just something else.

Why can't I stop this mind, don't think, don't think, don't question, stop. Why can't I stop it, why can't I rest until I know. Why can't I just switch off the lights and sleep safe, peacefully in my bed.

Why do I have to wake up to bad dreams? How can one just have everything but peace of mind. 

But I got to stick to plan, wake up go to class. So I walk out of the house, and it's absolutely shocking at how I wear a face of happiness when am out in the world. I must have been doing this for years, cause it comes so naturally. I hide tears very well. 

"Why are you sad?"

"assignment..."

"you know it will be easier to create a job rather than find one during our time?"

"what do you mean?"

And I told her to calculate the number of universities that are up and running now as compared to ten years ago. She is shocked. Then I ask her to compare it to the number of business that have come up on Moi Avenue. Simply, the business industry is not growing as fast as the number of professionals the hundreds of universities are pouring out. And they are over a hundred with the branches and shit.

I can see her wipe sweat from her braw, and I can swear she isn't sweating, but you know what that body language is about, she put her cheek in her hand and slants her head.

"woiy, don't get stressed."

"you will do good, I could be wrong"

I try to convince her otherwise even though I think otherwise. Now I hate myself for ruining an innocent girls day.

"I know the job market might not absorb everyone...but it will absorb the best"

But how can you operate when you always looking at your back knowing, someone younger, someone more able is ready to replace you at lower rates? Tell me? And I hate myself for such thoughts.

"so...what do you think?"

She crosses her hands. 

"...not everyone is like you you know."

And I hate it when people say that. I cross my hands. But I continue...

"we have to create jobs, we have to start businesses, we have to produce, we have to be bosses, we have to be innovative...we have to be the ones who create jobs not look for jobs."

"am here cause I want to make money..."

"for what?"

She seems shocked I ask her. She almost wants to jump off the chair. But am serious. I realize she is dumb founded so I help her.

"if i gave you 500 million right now, you would buy a Mercedes Benzs to match your different outfits, move to a house in a good area code with regulated building designs and level of lawns, fences and gates. What else?"

"invest..."

"more money for what?"

I tell her she might even end up more lonely. She doesn't believe me. Aren't you going to come to school in your car. So, you will not be hanging out with your friends as often. 

"no I will keep them..."

What do you talk about with your friends? Your futures? Your ambitions? When you have 500 million would you be talking of the same things? You shop at different place, eat different foods...

She gets mad.

She tells me she will get new friends. I ask her, so you will leave the old friends! How would they feel? How would you feel about how the felt. Where will you get your new friends?

"from my new neighborhood?"

"come on, houses are so distance you could scream you heart out and your neighbor will not here you. Be realist."

You are driving your own car alone, you are eating at the restaurant on the roof top alone, and if you do in fact find new friends to hang out with you shop with at the same places you shop, what happens? What will you do when they start talking about the things they were doing when they were kids? Maasai Mara, hot air balloons and shit. You get into a group that accepts you? Do you fit in?

We in Kenya sweetheart, you will want to buy a nice car, you will not find a good enough shop that stocks one, you will want a castle, you might want to build one cause ready made ones will not be good enough for you. I love Kenya though.

She now gets really mad. 

Yes, you will have better health care, yes, your kids will lead comfortably, yes, you might meet people. Yes, you will help more people.

But what am saying is generally, you will do the same things you do today, that we did a hundred years ago. Eat, fuck, get entertained, shit, dance, talk to friends, arrange ourselves in family and want more and more...

Only difference is that we don't walk now, we fly, we don't use horses to move everywhere we use cars.

"if you had more dear, you would shit in a nicer loo, but still take a dump like everyone else, eat, fuck, play, love, want more and more..."

If you were way below normal standards, then you would be right in subscribing to the illusion that the grass is greener on the other side.

"but I really believe in the vision2030 thing.. It's fun to want better and believe in better..."

"how is that going to help me?"

"...you want to predict the future and place yourself at the right place, look at it."

"really? But you know our politicians..."

And I made a theory that, politicians went into politics years ago to develop. How? Build a dam, repair roads, generally nothing proactive but everything reactive. Development was, administrative centre, church, school, hospital.

What is it turning into now? Economic zone, Turkana spilling out oil like it's a golden mine and a town forming around it, Lamu becoming a port so large almost rendering the ships that go round up to western Africa through south Africa thanks to the plans for an electric train connecting Lamu and Africa. Gold mine! 

If some politician gets bored of the office and benefits and decides to work, she will not fail to find something to do, she will talk about development, and when she talks about it we give her Vision 2030. It's better than nothing, cause before no one could define development.

"...I should marry you, or hang around you more often."

"why?"

"you know so much..."

"you know I could be very wrong!"

I tell her. She hugs me, her friends call her. She leaves. I go back to my apartment. I try to burst my gym ball cause I don't know why I got it anyways. Then in the process I wonder how it would feel to have sex on it.

"you know everyone is not like you..."

I remember her words. She must be comfortable in her bed sleeping. I can't. I simply can't. So I play some classical music cause it makes me think without words to interrupt my thoughts. When I feel ghosts shaking my curtains I switch to a religious channel. That got to scare them off. Will you wait till am gone to tell someone I touched your heart?



 

Cheers.




Its only fair that I to blame the way I am to the experiences I had when I was a kid. 

A little about Bob as a kid. I was told before I could crawl up a chair or even seat on it by myself I was terrified of pain. I was terrified of falling. That's what I was told, what I remember was- why the hell were the electric switches put so far up? I wanted to spray them with my water gun. I guess now I know.

I also know that I used to be terrified of sitting in a basin shaped as a bath tub climbing up Milimani and sliding down pretending to be driving. Slippers put the other way around to serve as break pedals. Yeah, like there are break pedals for basins that roll down a hill full of rocks to the foot of the mountain!

I don't think I ever entertained such sport.

I sometimes question why I have to have everything that I want. Why? Somethings I don't need. Is it a self esteem issue? Is it that I feel deserving? Or is it a habit I I have had all my life? 

But that's easy to explain. There are theories around it. What I don't understand is walking into my apartment happy. So energetic, just to seat down and all of a sudden become mad. No external factor at work. It's not that I haven't gotten a phone call I was expecting, just out of the blue I become furious.

And I think that's why my DVD player stopped working. I might have slapped it a couple after it refused to play fast enough. Sometimes I feel like am dead, I get into this state I feel like am ruined, I feel purposeless, I feel useless I feel like shit.

I remember when I was a kid, I had those moments, I would walk around to where the workers kept their tools, I would pick them and start throwing them all over the compound. I made a trail with bags of cement, i really loved wasting those. I remember guys from kplc were upgrading the power grid to 3face or something.

I broke those eggs that hang on the power lines. Oh how glad I did that now. I hate kplc, I don't think anyone should buy their shares.

Am sad, my thoughts are disoriented, I feel like jumping out of myself, but I can't do that, I can't escape the way I feel, these are my feelings, they are crap, they are horror, but they are mine, I don't know where they are coming from, this is not creativity this is disaster. It's pain, it's tears that don't fall but linger behind the eyes, a choking cold sensation on the throat that makes me feel like am choking but never quite choking.

It's just sad, swallow some of the water in my mouth to cool it all down, no mood to eat, these are the moments where I screw up. A few years ago I would open that door go buy another DVD player, probably a BlueRay player cause this one isn't working. I would send stupid texts and kill friendships I have built. I would update shit. I would break stuff, I would want to do bad things to myself.

But I dont. I maintain my sanity, I write something, I write until it stops, but it doesn't, it's like these feelings were sent to fuck up my life. That I can build so much then all of a sudden I can screw it all up at a moment of emotional handicap.

I remember I used to be afraid of ghosts and monsters. When I was a kid, in the old house where my loo (potty) was at the other end of the house, I would finish my business then run out like a bullet, I was sure they were coming after me. I still see ghosts and monsters, my description is as good as my imagination. Does it feel real when I describe stuff? It feels as real when I see such. And it's torture. I have to stick it out like a man.

I hate all these to tell you the truth, but I love it, I found a solution to my eruptive emotions. Stick to plan, don't drink, it will spoil you liver, besides I want to live forever, don't call a girl to keep you company, you have a girlfriend, don't update shit or tweet the same, you must hold yourself with the demeanor of a lawyer, dont jump off the balcony, a lot of people will be sad.

Don't think you are alone, they say it's a well known disease on the internet, to feel like everything is sad, to all of a sudden feel like death, to have your mood swings independent of your circumstances, there are people who are up up to 3am every night feeling like they are about to suffocate. Lying to myself.

Who never sleeps? Who plans everything? Who is as ambitious? What am I running from! What am I running towards? Who is afraid of closing their eyes cause they might not wake up? 

Yes, happy me, well doing blog, law school, jobs waiting, perfect girl, perfect life, drinks are on me, let's race, lets travel, yes, yes, living the life. Living the fuckin life. NkT! And now it rains outside, and am alone. 

Wednesday 2 May 2012

Love is celebration & small Wars.














Ever been in a real relationship? Then I guess you have an idea of what it means to meet her half way.

I was meeting her half way, literally. She lives in the other end of the world where the sun rises first from, I live on the side where the sun sets at. Halfway is Naivasha.

It took an hour for her to get there. I hadn't left Nakuru yet. So that meant she would be waiting for me for an hour, make that two cause I don't have feathers or a jet engine in my backpack to fly.

If I could fly it would be faster, there is no traffic in the air, but I was on the road. And I was becoming a riskier driver every time there was a lorry in front of me. I became more and more daring when it came to overtaking. Until an on coming car almost smashed me to pieces. I chilled out, she is my girl, she will wait. She is my girl, she will not be that mad, she is my girl, she really loves me, she would want me to arrive alive. Next time I will not be late.

I couldn't even eat the potato chips crisps that lay on the co-drivers seat, the chocolate on the gear box thing. The red bull on the cup holder. You know the ultimate drivers snack. Almost chilly crisps, then chocolate to dampen the chilliness, then cold red bull to wash it all down and keep you alert on the road. My stomach felt like a tied rope, until I got to Naivasha.

"babe, where are you?"

"close to the bridge... At the matatu stage on the road, am parked there."

I love Naivasha. It has jeeps and people's heads peeping out of them feeling the air massage there body. It has simple cars with sunroofs that are actually used. Then it has those people that stare at babe and I when we park at a bus stop, she leaves her car on hazard, I leave mine on hazard. I have to be a man but as I walk I feel like I want to take off like a plane but I don't, am a guy, she however can do that cause she is in a pink top. She runs, we literally jump on each other forgetting as much as we are love, we are body, and not sponges, I hurt myself a little in the hug. I lift her up and spin her round. She screams the people in the matatu stare through their windows.

"I follow you? Yes?"

She always asks a question, then asks Yes? At the end of it. It's very successful to negotiate like that. Yes? See, what I mean? Yes?

After the hug she is a little cold. She just leaves back to her car. The right indicator goes on. I follow her. She drives fast.

She parked her car next to mine. Before I could get out of the car, she was already trying to get onto the horse. They were three of them, a pony, a black horse, and the white one.

You can guess which one she was getting on. She always has loved that one. She has always been fast, by the time I was on mine, the stable guy was on the pony and she was already a distance away.

"...boss, leo nataka afurahi kabisa, tengeneza maneno yangu"

"si unajua I always do that." 

"sasa, wewe ni stable guy wa aina gani, si this is the mad horse you've brought out for me"

I tapped my heel on the horse side. 

"April, April, move April..."

I clicked to urge him. I tapped my legs harder. It doesn't listen, it could always start jumping, it was mad, I could have exchanged the horse with the stable guy's small pony. But then my lady will be on a bigger horse than mine. Not flittering. 

I had to catch up with her. The stable guy followed, he follows us all the way anyways, making sure we are safe. I was taking a risk moving fast, and the bloody horse couldn't keep in the middle of the road, I don't know what April deal with running at the edge of the road, or he just liked trying to get me get hit by the tree twigs peering into the road.

Finally.

Babe was by my side, we were moving at the same rate. 

"babe, you couldn't wait for me?"

"...how does that feel?"

"you know you always tell me you will call me back and am left waiting for you to call back..."

"babe, when someone says they will call back sometimes it's just Good Bye"

"no it isn't!"

I could see she was trying to move faster, slowly her horse was overtaking mine. Angry.

"I wait, you know I wait all night for you to call only to find out you are snoring and I am seated next to the phone thinking and waiting on you."

Babe, it's not such a big deal. I urge April to move faster. Why the hell does she make such a big fuss over a phone call? It's better we ride in a straight line, not parallel.

"babe, snake, snake."

"where? Where? Where?"

She starts screaming. I laugh at her. We laugh a little. Then she pulls the string. Her horse stops. Do you want to kill me? What if he jumped up and made me fall? I am forced to stop to. 

"it was a joke babe, you know I would take a bullet for you babe..."

"you would take a bullet yet you scare me for no reason?"

"babe, am sorry, let's just enjoy the ride we will talk when we don't have company."

I try to ride ahead of her but she doesn't let me. I get a little mad.

"want to go for another round?"

"no I want us to kiss."

"how?"

So, I try to get April to move close to his white fur friend but he doesn't move close enough for us to kiss. We spend around twenty minutes trying to do this but our efforts are fruitless. In fact April just got hungry and angry, he started to graze like he was a cow! Cow! 

"head back to the cow? Sorry, car?"

"cool"

The last ride was a pleasant one. Only problem is that April started with his madness. He wants to jump, he is making noises, he is running when am asking him to stop, he is turning left when I want him to turn right. I am unstable and stable man is not moving fast enough to catch up with me. In simple terms I am trapped on top of a horse that wants to kill me.

People have fallen off horses and broken necks. I was glad babe was off her's just in case horse madness is contagious or they infect each other with crowd mentality. But she tried to follow me running. I could see she was trying to save me just with her eyes and the pace she was running towards me.

"babe, babe, hold on tight babe, babe hold on tight!"

And I am holding on tight. I don't want to let go. I pass the car at the speed of a car and idiot animal is taking me to the stables.

I promise I will never ride that horse again.

"babe, am glad you are safe."

"wow that's sweet."

"maybe I should get into trouble more often so that you can be nice to me!"

She left my hand hold itself. We were walking towards the car together but I think she was stamping her feet harder than usual. How would you know she was mad? Or was it cause she had blown air into her cheeks? Had to be stamping her feet.

"yours or mine?"

They were packed next to each other. We ended up sitting in mine overlooking the lake.

As she tried to pour juice into the plastic cups, food, the apples, the snacks and the cookies were  between us on the back seat I remember thinking. Isn't she pretty?

Doesn't she have absolutely lovely taste? Her dark blue light jeans? Her pink flowing top with hints of her bosom, her bright light skin, her erupting fresh smile, she smells like an airport, she laughs like a free spirit, she wears a sweater like a foreigner, she loves like an artist. She has fun like the french, no fast foods, long lunches, beautiful meals, feaster. Proud as a kenyan, beautiful as an angel, she kisses like Africa. I could take the whole world and love her with it.

"babe, who made the chicken?"

"the house help."

"babe, the chicken tastes like shit..."

"am the one who made it!"

She stops serving it.

"my chicken tastes like shit? Eh! Okay, you not having it."

But am hungry. She even takes the one in my hand packs it back into the hot pot. She was serious.

"...but babe, am hungry."

"make your own chicken?"

"can I have the cookies then?"

Okay. We cuddle the rest of the time before I heard one of the mosquitoes enter the car telling his other friend mosquitoes, drinks are on me!

This place is a blood bath. She gets mad get out of the car gets into her's. I follow her.

So, she is in her car's back seat, am trying to push her down gently so that she is lying on the seats. Her car windows are tinted!

"babe, babe..."

She is trying to hide her neck from me.

"babe, get off!"

"you know you want it..."

"babe, not in the car, get off."

"you know what, you always want your way, I dont care anymore."

I slam the door, I start walking to the lake. Maybe I can drown myself there. It's enough that this is a long distance relationship. Women want to talk, men want to sex. We've been talking more than we have sex thanks to this long distance shit. And she wasn't letting me, the little time we hard. I felt tired of holding us together.

She was following me, I was trying to walk faster away. All of a sudden she was in the middle of the field and she was rooted still like an anchor. Something was wrong, that's when I saw the dog. It was staring at her. She was trying to become invisible.

I fear that dog. It's the size of a lion monster, I swear. The first time I saw it I wondered why they even brought it, I thought it was a doll. Only to see it rise up pick a piece of meat tear it up crash the bones between it's teeth then it went back to lie like a doll. It was simply too big to be real.

And my love for my girl is to big to care for big dogs. I approach her slowly not to agitate the animal. I put my arms around her, I shield her from the dog with my body. And we start walking slowly stealthily away. I can feel her shaking, we dont want to talk. Even whispering would be too daring. Slowly and steadily to the car. Once we were safe.

"I love you babe..."

"I love you to."

I carry her and place her ass on the bonnet, I live my hands in her back pocket. And we kiss.

"you always have your way..."

"I dont like that."

"you always talking about your blog, that's the only time you call, that's the only thing you tell me about you,"

"we've been talking for a year straight every single day, am a guy, what do you want us to talk about shoes?"

"no, just tell me how your day was, is that that hard?"

"babe, am a guy I can't start telling you what I was wearing, what my friends said about..."

"am a guy, if you ask me how my day was, I will want to tell you about politics, about cars, about global warming, about my blog, technical stuff..."

And I went on to explain that we have always bonded over hugs, kisses, love songs, mushy stuff like that, and to be fair she needs to bond with me on things I love. Guy things. I told her I didn't particularly fall in love with her stories about the bags she went to buy, or her complaining about how her friend makes her feel. I can't talk feelings all day, let's balance, cars, feeling, shoes, politics. Good?

She looked at the time on her watch.

"I always wear this watch, thanks for getting it for me"

"...it's getting late we have to go."

She looked beautiful seated on the bonnet. My hands on her thighs and my lips on her's.

"we exchange cars to the gate?"

I threw her my keys, she threw me her's. She dropped her's. I asked her to play lawn tennis with me more, it will help her aim. She told me I was the one that should work on my aim. Wrong hole! Isn't my girl just daring? How does she just say something like that.

She believes if you open car windows the car gets old. Hers is an SUV, it felt really high, the road looks really far down. It's just different. It smelled of her, it had girlish things inside, like lotion, lip bum, perfume. Her books, her sweater. 

She lead the way again. I followed. Don't I just love everything about her. I love the files she chooses for her notes. I love where she places her hand bag. I love her key holder. I love the way she carries herself, I love the way she arranges her things. I love the way her things are not as arranged sometimes. I love that she loves me, I love her. I haven't even started talking about why I love her and I have already told you how much I love her. How does she ever feel distant from me when I even love the files she chooses for her books? And probably I just love them cause they are hers. The way she laughs. How? How babe? You know how ridiculous you sound when you say you feel distant from me? You in my heart? I dont think there is anything that can be closer to my heart than you.

I got out. Handed her her keys. She handed me mine. We hugged. I shuta-d. We kissed she said good bye.

We did it in public knowing if anyone had any issues we would have sped off before they could walk up to where we were.

Just before I could open my door. She pulled me, she started hitting my chest like it was a drum. Pulling my shirt like she wanted it off. Hugging me so tight. I put my hands around her. She started to cry.

"baby, I know. I know."

"when will I see you again?"

"babe, I know. I know."

She was wiping her tears in my shirt. I could feel them warm on my chest.

"I love you babe..."

"I know, I know."

She got in her car. I got into mine. We drove off. Parted ways.