Facebook Addict

I was at a corner of the room, I was shaking, I was cold. I couldn't move, I needed my fix. I am a junkie, a Facebook junkie. That's what they say. That's what she said. Guess what, I have quit Facebook for two weeks. Don't laugh. Spare me.

All I did was for you. Yes you, all I did on my Facebook account was for you. The photos I posted, for you. The jokes I stole and posted for you. Everything for you. Why? So that one day you will be curious, go through my wall wondering, what is this guy about. And that's when you will find the links to my blog.

My Facebook account is not a private affair. My the Facebook group page as told by Bobby is clearly not a private affair maybe. But my account... So I hide embarrassing photos and expose the exciting ones. I remove every status update I update that is left lonely like July.

All the links I parade of my blog that receive no comments and likes I erase, especially the ones I put up at 4am or 3am in the morning. People don't comment on those, and update on them either. I hide them after a while. But they do get views, trust me, even at 2am in the morning, they get views. I see the statistics from the administrators office of the blog. Yes, that's the place where I seat and write. Remove my hairs as I try to make everything right, you only see the finish product. 

All for you imagine, so if am at a corner, seated, holding the wall, trying to keep away from log in in my phone to Facebook, it's for you. If am sweating, burning to post a link, it's for you. But am not an addicted, that's what I told her. How dare she call me that. Two weeks I tell you, for two weeks I will not log in. I will not check my notifications, though no one checks any of them these days cause they are too many, plus friend request, too many pending. Too many scary people sending requests. But some, you accept even if you don't know who they are...

Cause that's what you got a do when you want guys to join in reading your work. There maybe someone out there who gets tired of scrolling up and down there news feeds, seeing nothing sensible, seeing nothing that theropod them, that makes them think, makes them feel. I have to be that guy, who accepts there friend request, so that one day as he or she scrolls down the news feeds, he or she shall see, as told by Bobby. And when people give it time, they love it. Sleepless nights, the day you find out you like to read novels, right?

But maybe that's not for everyone. That's what am thinking, probably, the real reason why I quit Facebook is cause if being organized is a crime, I am a criminal. And I dont mean organized in where i put the remote controls, where I put my shoes after I kick them off. Yes, a little organized in that, but also a little disorganized like a shirt ironed by a guy, a little crease here and there which I don't mind about cause am a guy. I can express what I feel on paper like a dandy. But I am so guy, I like it on her knees. If you know what I mean.

So, where were we, I really get out of topic sometimes. We were talking about how organized my life is, my mind, my social life, my schedule, my thoughts, my actions. Yes, an organized person doesn't just quit Facebook cause someone called him an addict! No, that wound be petty and reactive.

An organized person is proactive. When an organized person knows the reason why his on Facebook is to market his blog, second to say hi to random people (something to cover up the allegations made against him about him being to picky and snobby), who says hi to random people in real life? Facebook, yes. Maybe I should change? Maybe you should change? But why? Are you trying to market a blog? That forces you to say say hi to everyone, so that they get curious about that nice gentleman who always likes her status and comments. One day as she snoops through photos, she find my timeline, and then my link which has a few comments on it, so she checks it out. And the blog hooks her?

Saying I quit facebook for two weeks cause I want to prove that I am not addicted to it is a cover. The real reason I quit Facebook is sort of mathematicalical. First of all, I want to find what those bustards are doing to my friend list. Today they see I have 80friend requests, I accept them, the number of my Facebook friends increase by 80, then tomorrow, I add a couple of people, who might become potential friends, or readers, whichever works for me, so long as I have made someone feel something, or feel differently, feel right, think right, or wrong in a write way, am good. But when I add, say 10 people accept my friend requests. The number seems never to change.

So as usual, I decided it was a problem, and I love solving things, so it was a challenge. What the fuck is Facebook doing? So I went to the geek sites, the geekiest sites. Google has this thing for reading levels, simple, intermidery and advanced. I read everything, I read about the algorithm used for the timeline and top stories, and it informed my decision to be more interactive so that everyone on my friend list is associated to me via a comment, an update, a friends of friends that way my blog links can be top on there news feeds. That's the real reason. But is that a cool reason to give?

Or would you rather I told you. Hey, there is this girl I like, she doesn't like me back, but I am doing all this for her, the photos, the blog links, the blog, writing, so that she would notice me, and see that I can do something really well, and she will notice me, she will fall in love with me, and when we hit it off, I will quit the blog all together. 

I don't think am addicted, but the two weeks am off Facebook, I just want to know, whether if I didn't post on facebook would you still visit me here. Are Facebook bullshitting me, or are some idiots unfriending me? Do I post to many times? So I add 80 people and 60 people leave. People only leave when you flood their news feeds, right? Or you post idiotic photos, of scary things? 

I will not pretend it doesnt bother me, come on, I like to feel like my work is wanted, the statistics show it, with the daily view, but you see wants you get that, you want more, once you read, I appreciate, but later I want you to read again, then I want you to spend sleepless nights here with me talking, I want you to anticipate when I write.

But most of all, I want to quit Facebook for two weeks, I see whether my friend list will increase. If it doesn't I will deduce whether it is cause am updating too much and people are running away. But if it still acts like crazy, jumping up and down whenever it wants I will take a flight to Facebook headquarters and slap everyone that works there for causing me emotional distress that looks like addiction.

Are you organized or spontaneous? Come on, think outside the box, you can be spontaneously organized. Can you not? Good day. Yes, I've left.

She said "they are poor, I hate them"

If you are determined, fates will change. Ask anyone who has pulled them self from nothing. It all started when they travelled, they saw something, they saw a better life, they saw more comfort. It has a better effect when it's in real life, cause then you see electric gates, you see guards that run up to make sure as you reverse the car out of the gate no car hits you. And they are the guards banks put at their door steps. They are at your door step.

When you travel, go out of routine, the world opens up. It's better in real life, cause there is a chopper. It's in your face, your friend is flying the kids to school in the same town in a chopper. You want that! Traveling can be physical, it can be mental, books, television, novels what not.

And then you petrol yourself with determination, you want two house helps, you want velvet curtains, the finest. You will get them if you want them and believe you have to have them, you determine your own fate. I promise you. You are as powerful as you believe you are. If you believe you are not, you get exactly what you believe you are. Not powerful enough.

"easy for you to say, cause you have everything..."

I hate that statement. I really do.

"...if I had all that, I would."

"if I had all that I would..."

"if I had all that I would find love..."

Which love? Where do you think love is? No tell me. Where is love? Where? No, show me.

Can you say... 'You stupid poor person?'

But you can say... 'those rich arrogant morons!'

Isn't it just unthinkable to say 'you are poor, I hate you' but you can say the opposite freely?

Where is the love then?

So everyone who works in your house, at first they are glad, they are glad you took them off the street. You offered them a job, and you pay them way over minimum wage. But then slowly they get comfortable.

Then the world opens up to them. They see the dog food you buy the dogs, you can't hide the price tag. The get the bills, the security bills are dropped at the premises, the companies that deliver day guards and night guards at your place. They find the bags of things you buy. They wipe the shoes you have no opportunity to make dirty.

"by the way I need an advance my child is in school..."

"by the way I need a salary raise..."

"by the way my child got bad marks I was wondering if you can talk to the principal of such and such school..."

And that's how it starts. And it will happen, when you get determined to get what you want to get. Even when your kid is not as smart as a bulb. He or she takes time to shine. She will see the way you handle your work, she will know when you can't do it well, employ someone to do it, then get the glory. Get the paycheque. She might get bad grades, but she will know how to make sure there is food on the table, and what not. The people around you influence you. It's not wealth only that is inherited, ideas, values, behaviors and what not. That's why success stays in the bloodlines when people stick together. Wachana na maneno ya bad boy charm.

So when you get there, or if you are already there. You know they gossip about you. They complain you subscribe to all the channels, you never watch, you have a lot of wireless Internet you are wasting and people are going hungry.

But they don't realize you have been giving them advances on their salary they have never paid. They don't realize some of them serve no purpose where you employ them. Come on, one person can clean the cars and another cook for the dogs but they are on separate pay checks, one does each. Cause, you don't have it in you to fire them, you know they have families that depend on them.

But they get jealous. I know it's kills me to be happy seeing a girl I love but didn't love me back in another guys arm. I feel like that guy is... NkT. But I know sometimes you have to go out of your way to be happy for your friends, for everyone that does well, cause that's what a good person does. Thats what an angel does. He let's people grow when they do well, he doesn't get jealous, he becomes proud of others success. Being good is not just morally correct, it's intellectually fit.

But they didn't, they didn't appreciate jerk! So, they plotted. They wanted to destroy me. They wanted to steal, they did. But they were caught. And they went back to the street. They might not remember the advances, educating their children, opening for them doors. They still will feel like you ruined their lives and will want to revenge.

When you are determined...and the world opens up for you... And you strive, you will find cause you are as powerful as you think. If you think you can't make it to the door, you will be too intimidated to walk up to the door. But if you believe. They will be saying.

"it's easy for you to say, you have everything..."

And it will hard for you to explain that anyone who isn't doing as well as you could get jealous and start hating you after a while. The people who make your food could poison you out of jealousy. And I will hope even when everyone you intend to help repays you with the fruits of jealous.

You will do it all over again. Surround yourself with people who need you, bless them with what you have, and hope. Hope, that they will not get jealous and finish you.

"it's easy for you to day, you have everything..."

Where is the love? No, show me? Where is the love?

What & not Who makes your heart skip a beat.

The stars are in the sky. Being above the clouds is the most relaxing place you can be. Imagine the puffiness of the clouds. The beauty of the sun rise and sun set from up there. Just imagine.

Just imagine, when it rains, every time there is thunder, it will be under you. You will be above it. That's why you should aim at above the clouds. Even when the ground is messy down here, it always helps when you can look up to the skies. It helps when it's a clear sky, cloudless so that the stars a clear. 

The stars for me is not a red carpet, no. It's not cameras all over, no. It's not with a microphone in front of a million people singing, no. What is it? High court.

This is the second day in court, hi court (pun intended). I have to emphasise that cause the structures are different from other courts. This place feels more of a court than the other courts. Its majestic in its own ways. Benches, and the floor elaborate wood for both. Men in dark suits. 

There is a guy in uniform, the cop that seats next to witnesses. I don't know what there name is. He is the one dressed in green. 

I still seat on the other end of the court room. Aiming at the stars is seating in front of the court. On the front benches, everything that disturbs my finding my way there are clouds, and i have to rise above them. I first sat on the last bench for a second or two, the guy seated next to me looked a little crude. First of all he was dressed as a young person. Then he is young! A puffy jacket, jeans and sneakers. There is no way I was going to remove my tab from my bag next to him. How now? They were a little dirty by the way. I moved to a different bench. Further in front. He looked scary.

Especially looking at the guy in the stand. He is a muscular guy, more far than muscular. He must be a thief I conclude, maybe related to the guy seated behind me? What other business would he have in court than being a relative to the accused? The accused is really big like a baba. He is wearing a rain jacket. Puffy. Blue. This is Kenya not Europe. No winter. Thief I swear.

The judge just walked in, red tie, argyle sweater (like mine) hehe, dark brown suit. Very proper.

If I were the judge I wouldn't release this guy on bond. Let him go free? the way he looks? His demenor, come on? But I guess that's why am not a judge. 

Ati sasa his lawyer has applied to him to get released on bond. Usually when you are arrested but your case is still being heard, the whole idea of retaining you in a cell is that you don't escape court. But you can leave the log book of your car to make sure you attend court. (the court doesn't trust people) From what I could hear he had left his log book with the court. His lawyer was applying that he is released on bond, he be  released until his case is heard? My foot. He would go steal again, he looks scary. 

"where does he work?" 
The judge asked him. (off the record) 

"self employed."

What? See what I mean. Heavy guy with muscles, with a left eye heavily wounded. As in someone had beaten him up. He was wearing cuffs. Standing there like he was innocent. Is this the kind of person you release back to the world? Back to society. He will kill everyone, rob everyone. His aim will be revenge to those that reported him. Black eye? Where did he get it from? He looked crude.

"you aren't even interested in your log book" the judge asked.

To make matters worse he had stand as assurity for someone else. Meaning, if you were supposed to attend court, sometimes the judge would ask someone else to make a promise on your behalf that you would attend. Not Bobby, someone, like your father, friend, lawyer, so that if you run away it will be your lawyer in shit. It helps thieves attend court, we all have a heart for the people we love.

So he had stood as assurity for someone else in another case, and the poor bustard who was supposed to attend court skipped. He just didn't show up. Maybe thats when he left his log book?  

So the fellow standing in front of me was in double shit. First, he has his on case going, the one I think caused his black eye. Then the second one was for vouch for some guy who skipped court.

It wasn't looking good. So how did this guy own a car? I assume, like society assumes, if you own a car, somehow you are organized, you care not to get in trouble cause you have lots to lose. That's the only reason why I decided to be open to give him benefit of doubt.

"motorcycle log book... You don't care about it?"

Really? A motorcycle? You own a motorcycle. Mwizi wewe! I though it was a car log book. Motorcycle. There was no way you were going to convince me this guy was not guilty! 

But maybe that's why am not a judge. Cause I hadn't looked at his file, evidence, basically his story, police reports. I was relying on my eyes, my ears, what was said, and not all was said mattered. This is not Boston Legal, or some other Legal Television Drama. There are papers to be read. Laws to be applied into context. 

But right now all I have is my eyes, looking up at the skies, just observation how everyone stands up and bows, only sitting after the judge seats. Am just watching, advocates in dark suits, some with ill fitting suits, others smelling like success and some sense of humor to cream it all up. Pure entertainment.

"I am releasing you on a 50,000 Kenyan shillings bond reluctantly."

What the fuck? Was the judge really letting him go? He looks as guilty as fuck. He looks scary, he looks like he will go terrorizing people out there. I really hope the judge was realizing this guy not out of mercy, cause everyone on the streets will be at his mercy. Even you using your device to read this. He looked like he would have your throat just to take away your device. And not to read my blog. To sell it... And maybe buy a gun to steal some more, kill some more, terrorize some more.

The court clerk bangs (knocks) the table thrice or four times. I automatically rise up like everyone else. The judge rises up and walks out. People begin to chat. I am here cause i want everything to be automatic when it is my chance to battle. When opposing counsel is trying to understand when to rise or seat, i am trying to understand things that will make me win cases. 

These are my stars, this is where am aiming at, above the clouds, these are my stars, writing is beautiful. But the court room is what stirs stuff in me. It's almost, it's almost, it's almost... It's almost as if it is what makes my heart skip a beat.

My nervous comfort zone.

so am in court. Not the magistrate court. The high court. I have sat closest to the door. My heart is beating a little too fast. Am breathing a little too fast.

This is going to be my hang out spot, for the next three months. Then for the rest of my life. I am trying to hold my hands together. To stop them from shaking.

The court room is empty, except for four people. There is an almost beautiful painfully young lady in a light green sweater, and a guy with a new yet-to-su-comfortable suit seated next to her. I bet they are interns. Usually they are the ones too eager to learn, suck up, make an impression. So maybe that's why they are here before the court cases start. Are they going to start?

It would be easy for me to just walk out. I am not sure the cases are going to continue for the afternoon. But the court clerks have loads of files on their tables. So... Most likely the cases will continue.

I know what the files are about. I haven't read them but I know. They hold evidence. In those files everything is recorded. Everyone standing before the court has a file. His or her name is written in the files. Their freedom, their justice. Sentences will be read. Verdict will be made. People will be screwed, people will be given justice some will pay fines.

Reality TV shows are dramatic, big brother Africa, and what not. Tusker project fame and all else. Fortune or you go home with empty hands, a public failure. The judges decide. You either become famous or fade out into oblivion. The judges decide.

But what about court. Imagine, there you are. You didn't think you will ever make it here. But one day while you were driving, you were talking on the phone. And shit happened as you drove. You got arrested.

Before even you had time to change from your club night clothes you found yourself before a court. You are in the system. Your phone battery was low so you couldn't call your friends. Or you simply can't remember their numbers off head.

And the cop that arrested you puts you before court, or another cop. And they read to you your offence in English. But English you can't understand. You are before an audience. And you start thinking. How did things get this far. I never thought I would end up in such a situation.

You are asked to sit down next to people with dirty clothes, men dressed all in black, off faded black cause they are thieves. They too didn't have time to change. Suddenly you are grouped together with them.

They read your name...

"guilty or not guilty"

You watch the clerk pick up your file. And you see bobby seated on the last bench. They already have a file on you? What is written there?

"do you reject or accept the charges made against you?"

Everyone is looking at you. Except the judge who is just waiting for you to talk so that he can write. The court clerk is facing you with her head tilted, mercy in her eyes, she is expecting you to reply.
You don't know what to say. Should you accept of reject? Should you lie or not lie? You are alone here. But out there you have so many people who can help you. Out there you are a powerful person. But you haven't had time to call your big guns to help. It happened all so fast.

You are next to robbers and murders. You are next to thieves the people you put electric fences around your house for. Oh my.

it is nothing like big brother africa. Nothing. Nothing. Its life or death for you. You see it happen. You accept it. But you don't know what the hell is going on.

I am in court, just to learn via osmosis. I am in court, just to watch. So that when its my time to seat legally in front there as an advocate. I will be ready.

I will not be holding my hands together under my desk to keep them still. I will not be trying to understand how everything works. I am getting my hand still right now. Sitting here texting, blogging so that court feels like a place I am used to. I know how it works, I know what to do when to do.

A few more years I will be ready. This is my throne. And we shall rule. It takes 4 hours a day, everyday of 6years to become an expert at what you do. This is the end of this post but it is the beginning.

Sent from my BlackBerry®

"untitled" (part 2)

...but somehow I have to get a few real people, enough of the hundreds of fake ones!

So, what's the plan? New friends. Why? Cause I need them. Where do I start? From where I begun. Venue? Guava, the one upstairs that serves sushi.

I am seated at the balcony, if I turn to my left I see Merica Hotel, if I look down I see traffic and cars all over. When I look in front across the table I see a girl seated across my table. She is beautiful. I had a thing for her. To my left is a guy...

This guy I met at some private club, we used to go to the same school somewhere in Milimani, it was like one of the only private school here, we all transferred to better. But then it was the best.

It had been over ten years since we talked, but we met at the club. The first thing that came to my mind when I saw him was shit.

This is a guy who was my friend in primary school. Then one day, out of the blue, whilst we were playing in the field, in the middle of the field after lunch when everyone was present, the whole school. He pulled my shorts down, not up to the knees, up to my ankles. Those days we wore brief underwear. I was embarrassed. Years had past, we met at that country club. I got his number, I invited him for coffee, he was seated on my left, with completely no idea of what I had planned for him.

The girl in front of me, she had a thing for me, I had a thing for her. When we met I invited her out to a club. Not a club with tennis courts, a night club. It was the first Friday of school. We were just getting to know each other. She had declared she had a thing for me through her eyes and body language. 

Yes. That girl sitting in front of my table made me cry tearless tears for years and years. How can someone who you just met make you cry tearless years for years and years?
Simple. When you meet. The first time you meet she publicly declares it is you she wants. Then on that Friday night you first go out. She gets swept away by a guy who was supposed to become your friend.

We all become friends. Her, and the guy seated next to her. They are my dear friends. That girl that chose him instead of me! And the guy who pretended to be passing my messages to her!

"by the way that girl has a thing for you Bobby, do you want me to tell her you feel the same for her."

"wow, yes"

Then the next day I hear from a third party that both of them were together.

Yes. The third party who told me is also another friend. He is also seated on the table around. He is making his order for food, we might share the bill. But if they don't. I will be the one paying, partly cause am the one who invited them. Or, cause it's a silent rule that I am the one to catch the bill when everyone else ignores it. Shit rule! NkT.

This guy, this friend used to work for our family. Maybe that's why he was such a suck up and told me. "hey those two are sleeping together."

He stole by the way. While he worked for us he stole. He stole from me too. And made me tip him thinking he was doing good work. I was actually tipping him for stealing from me. And there he was, making his order.

"bring it with mango juice"

He didn't know what was coming. I couldn't believe he was actually trying to flirt with the girl seated next to him. He knows I have had sex with her what the hell?

The girl seated next to him was new to my friends. We hadn't hang out together all of us as a group of friends. So she kind of didn't quite fit in. She had problems with expressing herself.

She took time to express herself in proper english. We talked together when she was at my place, cause I gave her time to express herself. But in a group where everyone is fluent & fast. It was hard for her, cause they didn't let her construct her sentences. They didn't give her time to. So she kept hanging.

But I put her on the spot always. I tried to talk to her often, draw attention of everyone to her.

"so what do you think about the steak?"

She asked for the menu.

"come on you can't order out of the menu"

She looked like she wanted to eat me alive.

She looked nice, she dressed well, to well like she was compensating for something. I loved that, she did everything extra well, in bed, kitchen and all else.

We all sat there. I wanted friends to hang out with, and here they were. Are these people who you call your friends? Or people you let run the bill then you leave. Call them and tell them to suck it? Or worse... Worse... I had brought all of them together for a reason.

(...to be continued in "untitled" (part 3)


Sent from my BlackBerry®

S***

So now that no one fucking reads this let's go on. Why the hell should I edit. Mh? Shit.

Anyways am not planning to stop cause am here for me. To keep me insane, sorry, meant am here for me, to keep me sane.

Its all about looking at the world in my eyes, and recording it on a blank piece of paper. Books say profit is money. I say profit is money to, but more than that it could be the ability to make enough to take the afternoon off and play golf, or pick your kid from school. I could say profit is freedom to do what you want and do less of what you don't want to do. When you make a profit, you can employ someone to do your accounts rather than you doing them yourself. Therefore profit is profit as books say it is in numbers, but my book, my blog, my observation of the world says profit is more than numbers, it could be freedom to relax and not having to toil all day. Hence the golf on Monday afternoon & tennis on Tuesday afternoon. Paid someone to do my work for me so that I can have my fun.

That's why I can't fuckn stop to write, hata kama some ***** refuse to share, and some **** refuse to get wet at my words. Some do, but today am being all negative. Am breaking down. But I can't break down to long, cause its a bad road; negativity, at the end of this post. I will resolve to look forward and move ahead.

A lot of factors play in getting one into such a mood. The first was that I texted this girl, and she hasn't texted back. So I got a little pissed. Then I found mbuzi meat for dinner and felt worse. I are mbuzi meat yesterday. I need a change of diet.

Sasa I was on edge properly, anything could piss me at that moment. All of a sudden someone was trying to watch news and it was loud. Double crap. I walked out leaving the food on my table.

Next thing was inboxing some ramdom chic '...so how do you like my blog?' She simply said she doesn't read. Yeah, and yet she expected me to continue chatting to her.

As if the night couldn't get worse. I decided. I needed to get into bed. The floor was cold and my feet were freezing. I get into bed, wear my earphones press play on my ipod. Hold my Ipad in my hand ready to write something, cause that's what make me feel better.

Just when am in bed, the lights are off. Am covered in my blankets ready to write something that will steal your heart away in such a way it will make my heart feel nice.

The batter life starts giving that stupid notification. 5% of battery life left. Fuck. So I spend almost 3minutes trying to get where the charger is, its not plugged on the wall. After wasting so much time, I remember I had left it in the sitting room. Oh come on. All that way?

Fuck. I have no choice so I leave. Out of the door, to the sitting room. I meet people on the way who want to talk and I don't want to. I don't want to be rude. I end up rude. With one worded answers, so that they can let me go back to my room since I don't want to talk. Crap. Now I have been unkind to the people I love.

Like that is not enough. I get to my room, back to the same old long process. Lights off, get in bed, position my pillows, position myself, get comfortable, plug the Ipad charger. Hold it next to the walk switch cause the idiots Ipad calls geniuses who make ipads, don't think it reasonable to give long extention cables. So if you want to use it as it charges, you have to almost press your body on the wall as if you life line depends on it. Charge. Nkt.

So I start to write, and since I am to be a lawyer one day, I can't be writing things that...so I can't quite write what am thinking. I have to be decent. So it doesn't flow as easily as it does when I write this. No it doesn't! Not at all. Its like am thinking hard as a write. While writing this feels like I am writing first before I think. Which makes it fun. Its like am venting out.

Have you ever just spoken without having to think what people will say. This is what it feels like, only better. If you are wondering where am writing this. If anyone is reading this, if no one is reading this. Argh, I don't care. Am writing this from my blackberry, yes the one with a broken screen cause...

Before I was writing this, I was googling 'why is my Ipad not charging even when it shows it is charging?' You know what I found? Unplug, reset, reboot. Nonsense. So it went off as I was trying to write the insincere stuff I was writing.
Anyways, fuck all. I don't care right now. But don't I care. Cause my heart tells me, hey bobby. If you write any longer than this you will spoil it. Leave it like this.

That's all. Gnyt
Sent from my BlackBerry®

People do change! ?

My last birthday was something. I had carried an extra pair of clothes, I found my suitcase open. My boxers missing. I found them on a girl who was in the pool at 11pm, midnight? I don't remember.

It didn't happen at a club, it didn't happen at a lounge, it didn't happen at the beach, it didn't happen in Paris, Las Vegas or J'burg. It happened in North Coast, at a pent house master king suite at a hotel by the beach. 

We had seen it before, it had three bathrooms, two of which had glass windows on the walls, and a green tinted glass roof. So you could see the young moon and the bright sunset as you showered.

As in showering was not a private affair, glass doors? A kitchen, bedrooms, beds, master beds. Yes, the biggest bed was meant to be mine and the girl that was supposed to get me a cake. I figured, we would have sex. So I told everyone that attended the party not to have sex on that bed. Then she decided to just bring the cake, and not spread legs. 

"I can't believe her man..."

"I planned to spend it with her..."

But not to worry, it was my birthday, I am the one who vetoed the guest list. Oh, plus my friends. So there was another girl I could have a shot with, take my frustrations out off. Besides, I was birthday boy, I was single and I was of a shallow mind, like a teenager running on hormones.

Option B,

But I can't say she was option B, she was the one I actually wanted. But option A, had virgin issues. So, I don't think she was going to give it up at such a party. It was crowded, but crowded well. If you were a guy, and perhaps you made a mistake and woke up next to a girl, even the least fliest of them, was a super model. The most beautiful was a super model of super models.

If you were a girl, umh, you know my friends. Real men bana. Need I say more? I need? 

She was fly, oh she was, she sat next to me. We tried to learn how to use the remotes in the living room, as in living room in a hotel room, like a gazillion balconies, I could get used to that. It started with the door lock, no key card reader or some shit of that sort. 

Then there was trying to work the remote controls, you think you switching on the television, but the air conditioner is what went on. The hotel staff were friendly, they let us carry wine glasses and drinks for those who had ordered to the room. All of us, the so many of us. But not too many. More than ten, less than 30, I think.

I can't remember cause some spent most of the night at the pool. Those who swam naked, the management allowed it, they just switched off the lights. It was no orgy, it was no sex. We all had reputations to protect, so major flirting and kissing alone. No camera phones, no evidence. 

Anyways, I didn't sleep on my bed, I slept at the balcony, someone had left their phone playing under one of the umbrellas on the table. It played most of the night. I kissed girl B, she pulled her pants down, but I only touched, not too far, I died. I died. I really died. So large, but not quite, too soft, yet so firm, yet not. It was all like adrenaline to my heart. 

Girl C, she cooked well, she loved me helpless, but I think am the first man she had ever loved for real, so she was a little clueless, she took my shit. I have been paying for the rest of the time after that day.

What she did. I think somewhere along the party she couldn't take it any more, maybe it was curfew, or it was heart break. She just broke down, open the balcony glass door, came where I was hiding under the blanket with this other girl. And she kissed my cheek, right next to my lip. It wasn't a three sum. But pants down, even though doing nothing pumping-ish, a kiss from someone else, so fly. Happy birthday to me.

So, girl A was in one of the rooms I didn't care about that time. I had the time of my life. My next birthday was to be a blast, I promised, party like a rock star.

And it came, it was this year.

What happened? The day before my birthday I still didn't have plans. I plan my birthday for months. I don't like surprises from friends like many do, cause I don't think they would throw me a party good enough. Sorry, am a control freak, I love the planning. Planning is my hobby actually. Device.

So, am walking out of Central Police station getting an abstract for another phone I lost, on my way to safaricom to block it. 

"my birthday is tomorrow... I need to be Happy tomorrow, I haven't planned for anything..."

I walk along the street. I am trying to think about what my birthday would be like compared to the one before. You know what I did? 

I walked into Kenya Airways. 

"one ticket please..."

"what about return?"

And the next day, was my birthday. The flight was 10am. I was in bed. I called the cab guy, told her to pick my girlfriend from the airport. I decided to sleep until she knocked on my door. I knew she would have to take a flight back to NBO in literally hours.

But can you imagine, in just a year, I have become the guy who doesn't want anything more than to just have his girlfriend for his birthday.

My friends say am whipped, Cupid must be laughing at how successful he was with me, I think am just in love. And I have been in love for quite long. It feels as fresh as the first day every time.

She so pretty, and am so sure, she is the one, she makes me feel like the best gift is her time, she makes me feel like the most beautiful thing is her standing with her bags at my door step. It's hard to explain. Is it okay to say thank you for you?

I don't need plan, A,B or C. It's as easy as A,B,C, if you didn't kiss me on my birthday, I would wait till my next birthday for you to kiss me, cause if it isn't you, it is no one else. And girl, am I so comfortable waiting for you. Am glad I don't have to though, I love you. 

Love is, either you or nothing. You or nothing baby. I have to have the best or nothing at all. I have to have you. I am glad I have you.

"untitled" (Part 1)

Have you thrown a house party yet? No... A little advice, get a driver. Not, a mat, maybe a cab or just get a driver to pick everyone who is going to attend from their homes. Why? Cause people like to be fashionably late. I don't let them,  I switch off my phone cause at the party day, I want to have fun, if you want to call anyone call the driver.

I throw pretty mean parties...

"ati tuweke sofa sets nje?"

"yes..."

And there they are, maroon leather sofas standing magnificently at the back yard. The grass is so green, the tables are neat. The speakers are set. The barbecue is ready with makaa & the sauces. The wine glasses, spotless, the napkins, white neat. Beautiful. Weather perfect.

"wapi doom?"

"hamja spray nyasi, come on..."

"na houseflies..."

"spray haraka."

In thirty minutes, three things will happen. I will send everyone I invited a text that I am going to switch off my phone and the driver will not be late. So they better not be. Hakuna, maneno ya fashionably late. You show up on time. Serious about partying.

Three things will happen, I will text everyone I invited, then I will switch off my phone. I will have delegated all tasks, camera man takes the photos (the guy who milks the cows), the guy grilling (the guy who slaughters the broilers), the driver to pick up people & supplies that run short, the house help and her friends to serve drinks and stuff. I just have fun, I don't run around making sure everything is okay. There are like fourteen people who will be receiving a tip for making sure everyone I invited is well attended to. That they are happy.

"I've sent the driver, am going to switch off my phone now"

"but I will be a little late..."

"hello?"

"...sasa, just do this, talk to the driver dear"

"okbye."

Line goes dead.

"Bobby, hello? Bobby? f***** when I get there I will smack you, come on, am your ex am allowed to be late, Bobby, did you hang up..."

I switch off the phone. I place it on the glass table, under the tree, then sink on the sofa. I hold the gate remote. The only thing I will be doing is press it for people to get in, and press it to close it. I don't want anyone just walking in.

But thats where I got it wrong, that's where we got it wrong. There is nothing stuck up about exclusive parties. It's practical. Cause when you say invite-your-friends, come-with-all-your-pals, things get tricky. People hide drinks, come on. Things get lost, my golf gloves got lost, come on, really? Shoes. There will always be a girl complaining that her money was stolen from her pass. And I will be a good host, it's okay, let me just refund you. And her friends will be like No, but I will say Yes, and at the end they will all say, it's okay if Bobby refunds. I smile. But am like crap! Get the **** out of my house. But I don't.

Plus you can't control people. 

"whose at the door?"

"dammit. Cops?"

"whose at the door?"

"hide, hide stuff, hide haraka"

And since people came with friends of friends and half of the people there you don't know, those people you don't know don't really care whether the people at the door are cops. They don't bother hiding anything. They simply don't care.

"please turn the music down"

My neighbor is a problem. She got divorced, has two kids, always shows up in a leso at my door. She always thinks am drunk and I don't even drink that much.  She thinks I have dreds. Please, my hair is just long.

"ati, I know you are drunk so I can't even talk to you..."

"then why did you press the bell"

If you party is exclusive, that means, all guests are your pals, the ones that you don't have to tell to turn the volume low, but they just turn it cause they care about you more than the party. Then you good. But if you have thrown a party for all.

"wacha, anakwambia... Kwanza turn the music louder, let her cry if she wants to... You paid rent didn't you? What's her problem?"

Then the next day, when you call the house help to come clean up, she will be given a notice letter by the watchman. 

"sasa, Bobby, with that sly eye. Shika barua."

"...floor, clear, take out the trash I have constitutional class in six hours, so we finish by then."

I will leave her doing her thing. Then I open the letter.

:Dear tenant,
::::Warning, we had complaints from your...

I will fall on the bed facing up. Pick my phone and dial Babe!

"honey"

"hello, hi, morning"

"how was the party last night..."

"fine"

"how was the party last night?"

"I told you it was fine!"

"baby, why are you shouting."

"...am not shouting,"

"babe, what happened"

"argh & I hang up"

She calls again. I see her photo on my screen. I can't help but pick up.

"hey.,"

"party was horrible, I lost my phone."

"which one?"

"the blackberry"

"the new one?"

"imagine, plus, I have the third eviction warning letter"

"you friends didn't help you?"

I stand up from the bed realizing that the house has become too quiet, most probably the house help is eavesdropping  on my conversation. 

I walk to the balcony. Look into the cloud and kick an empty paper cup with some drinks and cigarette buts. She will have to clean that, how can she start eaves dropping.

"hello? Hello?"

"I just invited random people, just told them to come with there friends..."

"babe?"

She says the 'babe' with a question mark at the end (just try say it like that you get what I mean)

"but, you know when I come to this town for holiday I get bored"

"but you have friends there too babe..."

"they are all..."

She knows the answer.

"...ex girlfriends, and horny girls?"

"yes, and most of my friends here are... Except for some."

She gives me a speech on - I just need to relax, they will just come, people will just come into your life, people who care for you. Friends, people you let into your home and don't have to lock up anything, they will come. But she knows me, I always like things in my control. If they aren't crossing my paths fast enough she knows I will device some scheme to meet them faster.

"babe, why are you quiet?"

"why are you quiet, are you planning something..."

"no" (I lie)

"babe something's you just let happen... You don't interfere, imagine everything is not a court case, or law books, timetables and plans. Something's are like love, it just crosses your path, like friends do..."

"okay, okay, fine!"

I hang up not convinced. I know what I will do... It's a new town, but somehow I have to get a few real people, enough of the hundreds of fake one!

(...to be continued in Part 2.)

Forwarded Email (secrets)

People make emotional decisions and support them with facts. Most of my pals started clubbing at ilcovo based on word of mouth recommendations. "the music is nice, you can't lose your phone" then after a while people started saying "have you gone there lately, they just cover up unfurnished tables with wine glasses and fancy bottles" 

An eighth of the people are the ones who publicly show there love for something. The rest enjoy it in silence. Imagine the number that has something negative to say. But don't say it. 

I remember the first time I came to ilcovo. We wanted to seat at the beach and the waiter asked for the sofas to be brought outside to the beach. It was wonderful. Time of our life. That time everyone talked so positively about it. And to now it hadn't changed but peoples opinion on ilcovo has changed. 

That's why when you ask random people on Facebook about it, they tell you something like "I don't like the music anymore, I don't like the structures" and I don't think much of that has changed its just that when someone stops liking something they look for reasons why they don't like it. When someone loves something they look at reasons why they love it.

As much as it is good to try to inquire what has gone wrong. at the end of the day people will make emotional decisions and support them with facts. So just make people like the club, by making them feel appreciated they will find things they love about it. 

Ilcovo was like a friend. I read there updates, I visited it, I talked about it, we talked about it. I even bbmed it, come on which club can beat that? Then one day out of the blue I go there on my birthday and the waiter treats me like trash. Infront of my girl friend. Trust me there is no way am going back.

Anyways, sorry about the long email but there are over six universities that have come up in a span of 4 years in Mombasa. The flights to nairobi in the four airlines are usually booked. The students that will be graduating and getting jobs in Mombasa every year are all about partying and drinking and nothing else. You may want to retain those. 

Have a lovely day. Regardless nice place you got there. But don't let your staff ruin all the hard work you put in.

Sign off. 
Cool people stopped clubbing at ilcovo.
Sent from my BlackBerry

Mrs Hot Stuff.

There was once when I was at the counter. I paid in advance, actually I just transferred my excess tuition fees to the cafeteria. Sneaky, not! That way, I didn't have to touch dirty money just before lunch, paying for lunch still feels so demeaning, I liked signing for lunch.

There was this girl, wasn't she hot. As in smoking hot, the kind of girl whose most defining characteristic is beauty. When people don't know your name, what do they refer you to as? 

"huyo chali na Afro?"

"that creative genius..."

She was...

"that hot light girl in heels."

Everyone knew her. Her Facebook account reached 5,000 almost every week, grapevine ama true story? 

"ona, ona... Look at your friend..." the guy at the counter said.

I was holding the pen, people were on the queue and I was wasting their time staring. I hadn't noticed until I heard people laughing, yes, I was caught staring at her, not her swells , hills, valleys, wacha hizo, her legs, her face. Basic stuff. Wewe, she was no jokes. It's like I had seen an angel, you wouldn't stare at an angel? Come on, that's why I stared long enough for everyone to stop there chit chat and stare at me staring at her. Talk about awkward silence.

But it was allowed, come on, hottest girl in school. 

Alafu she only hang out with hot chics. Yes, all of them in one room; all drinks turn hot. Ice cubes melt. Alafu they were a group, oh my. So high up there. For the first time I felt like I didn't believe in myself, in the presence of such beauty who does? Hapana tell me who does? Have you ever meet someone whose beauty made you feel like you were nothing? And am a guy, you guy. Boss? Madam? Feel me? Wacha tu.

Do you know Beyonce? Imagine if she walked up to you and said.

"hi ____"  (insert your name there)

Randomly, you would almost scream, overwhelming. Think about how you would feel. See, such a girl had a relationship with the whole school, like Beyonce has a relationship with the whole world. We knew stuff about that girl, only her friends would know, but then everyone knew, we watched her, we knew what she had for lunch, cause we noticed her.

What do you know about your friends? Where they leave? Who they hang out with?  Do you spend time with people on television? In your head phones. They are in your life just that you don't see them in real life.

So lately, this chic sent me a friend request. You know I almost cried. It's the way you used to talking on the phone with your long lost relative, then all of a sudden they are at the airport. And they hug you. You cry. You can't contain it.

I hadn't talked on the phone with her, she hadn't said hi to me, didnt even know she knew me, years after, I still have butterflies in my stomach just seeing her friend request. Sijui I wanted to eat it. Even though she isn't as fly now, she already has a kid by the way, she kind of started hanging out with women who aren't so fly, I saw the photos. She has a good job though, just seeing the company she worked for. There are guys in her photos. Some of my friends are in her photos. I guess time changed, things changed, life happened. 

She is still fly, that's why every guy on the photos are holding her so firmly, like to show, am the man. I got her, even the father of the toi. Am sure, that was his idea. Am the man, plus love, cause how could you not like that girl?

I guess whoever you spend the most time with, somehow you develop a soft spot for them, not love maybe, but a soft spot, on television, on social media, wherever. No wonder we always forgive celebrities. Come on, aren't they sort of like our friends?

So, what's your most defining characteristic? You better get one, cause I know you will screw up one day, and you will need us to forgive you. Post, imeeisha. 

The addictive cycle.

I got home. The first thing I do when I get to my door is try to open the door with shopping bags in my hands. It never works, something always drops, sometimes spills. I usually try to swipe it to the neighbor's door with my shoes.

When you buy stuff where do you go first? Kitchen? Bedroom? Where do you unpack from? I was unpacking from the bedroom.

I got out seven candles, scented, vanilla, strawberry, lilac. I placed them strategically. The sun was up, but I was going to shut it out with the curtains, I did.

I unwrapped the chocolates, placed them on the bed. Different positions, so that...

Do I have to talk about sex, for you to know it's going to happen? No, you just know right. That's seduction. You never say I want sex. You just talk around it, you talk about breakfast, you talk about underwear. You hint, talk around it.

Why? Cause when you serve wine, you play a romantic movie, when you pick a flower and give it to someone, she can't say No. 

That's why I don't like television, who am I kidding, I love it! Who doesn't, my DVD player bursted, something to do with me leaving it on Pause for a week. LG is weak, am looking at a Sony, the ones with the speakers almost as tall as me, kwanza seven of them.

Sasa, those ones are the ones that are going to f*** me up a nice one. Cause sometime as I watch some innocent series, even comedy, some chic spills milk on another chic's chest. Some point at the series, a woman and a man are on a bed. That's enough to get you thinking... Some point in the movie, the camera gets centered on a girl's... A microsecond, you get a close up. They don't have to tell you, get horny. 

A video, a camera, dictates what you see. When I walk on the streets, and I know it's Monday morning. No one is supposed to get horny on Monday morning! So, I know that girl in front of me has things that could cause an inferno. So I take it upon myself not to look. And I don't get tempted.

But tv, they direct my eyes, they direct where the camera goes, and I watch the hills and valleys, I watch that part where a girl drops her dress on the floor, you don't see her naked, but trust me that is enough to cause you to get horny. Come on, we can imagine! No, trust me you can. You imagine, even, even when you think you don't imagine. Sex sells my friend, hapana, don't doubt yourself boss, Miss Boss, sex sells a good one, you have more power than you think. You are more powerless than you thought. 

So, yes, you guessed right. I am horny, and I watched something very innocent. 

Where was I? I was putting chocolates in the bed, I was serving wine, I was unpacking things I got from the shop, lighting up the candles, I know she is going to come over. I know her shoe size, she is a size six. Yes, nothing gets a girl soaked up in a smile like a pair of shoes wrapped just for her, just cause it's a Friday.

She is going to walk in through that door. Am going to play it very innocently, all of a sudden, the play-list will change to something like 'lookie, lookie, you can't get, it, get it' kidogo, 'bend over, bend over'

Quiet tones, some point, what we are watching on tv, will become boring to her, she will lower the volume herself, and ask that the music be turned up. She will walk to the kitchen taking back the plates after I cooked for her, and I cook well.

She will do a little dance when she stands up, she will not notice it, but I will. Then when she comes back she will feel like she really needs to dance. Cause isn't that what music does? And she will ask me to stand up and dance.

Innocent dance, then at some point she will feel how firm. And after a while she will be rubbing. After a while, we will be kissing, just before she wants to stop, she will bump into chocolate. At that moment when she will start telling me about not getting off her bra. I will stop. Leaving her still anticipating.

"by the way I got you a pair of..."

And she will scream jumping up and down. She will get to the door. She will want to leave cause her friends are waiting for her. I will ask that she sticks around, where the candles are, where the chocolates are, where the music is, where the curtains are closed, and it will be hard for her to leave. And in a few minutes she will be on the bed trying to cuddle.

But I will have relaxed my muscles, it will be finished, i will have finished her, all I would want to do is sleep. She will try to cling on me, but I will not be feeling sh** and that's the moment I will blame the television for making me horny, making me have to call someone up. 

And if she knew that, it didn't just happened, I just didn't say, hey let's have sex, I just said it in every other way rather than words, intentionally, no accident, I placed everything in place, the playlist, the mood, the scent, the aroma, the hugs, the...

F*** it's become too easy! How do you end up into someone's arms? 

The sad.

Introspection says our circumstances make us. We can be kind, we can be gentle to those around us for years. It is usually from a good place, I benefit, they benefit. That's what I believe, when I employ someone I look at both their interest and mine.

"so, how many kids do you have? Three?"

He stands by the shade, and draws a fist with his left hand.

"five."

"five?"

"umejaribu"

And we laugh, cause where he comes from it's a good thing to have many kids, only that one of them who is the first born decided not to attend secondary school, even after he called the cops on her.

"make sure, huyo aende shule, sawa?"

"but she has refused."

"it doesn't matter..."

"just keep reminding her... You don't want the rest of the kids not to go to school following in her foot steps"

"sawa"

"besides, c wewe unajua shule ni mzuri"

And we went on and on. And I told him about him needing to pay fees for the kid, can you imagine he had not simply seen things that way. No, he hadn't. But I made him see things that way, I made him realize he needs to take care of the kids, for his family, his wife. Be a man!

And I stopped repeating that when I saw him touch his lip, point at his brain, that was worry and thought. 

"sasa, you know what we have to do, we have to take care of our families..."

"Mimi, sina mtoto sasa...lakini baadaye..."

"naona kenye unasema..."

"so sasa, what we plan to do is we need to increase profit."

"aha"

"obviously if you make more, I increase your salary..."

"aha"

"wacha hizi zenye patia nikijiskia, I will increase your salary so that every month, shule watoto wanaenda."

By the time I was done, I asked him why he was there, he told me for the kids, why he needed to work well, he told me, cause he need to make him some so that I give him a bigger paycheck. 

I will be happy if he took the kids to some nice school, bought the wife some nice dress, called some other guy from the village to employ him to work for me but under him. I don't like telling ten people what to do, I like telling one person what to tell ten people to do. Delegation give me more time to practice my golf swing.

At the end of the day, guys from his home area would be like... Na huyo nani, c he has helped us a lot. And people will look up to him, I will get my dues, it will be a good life. 

But then, when you try to talk to someone, you try to convince them of a better way, but then they decide that what they will do is steal. My friend, I have spent six years reading human behavior, body language and stuff, I know sometimes when someone decides to do something bad they are listening to the voice that say...

"boss akikuja, tumchape tumnyanganye gari, twende na wallet"

And they think they will benefit from that. I think everyone given an opportunity to tide they will, in the right way... So I make sure they listen to the voice that says...

"gari, iko na car track, hata tikimuua Bobby, pesa hakuna kwa wallet, gari iko na car track... Tutakula Mara moja, kazi hakuna, shule ya watoto hakuna, tutakunywa pesa yore siku moja..."

It always starts from the mind, and my mind is ready, ready enough to make sure their minds are ready.

Where there is hope, I stick, but some people scheme underneath. When they mess up and I fear for my life like I feared yesterday, I dont surrender, I dint give up. I go talk to people, I look for solutions for them. Cause there interest is mine, my interest is mine. At the end of the day it's all about being an angel, cause being bad is just looking for the simple option, step on people, force people, is that creative? Is that smart?

However, i guess, experiences shape people, I used to wonder why people didn't offer there phone, car keys and such to thieves in the past. I would actually give them everything I have to save my life. But these days, when someone knocks on the car window as I reverse, I see the hawker duck cause my first reaction is to throw my phone in his face.

When I drive at night and see someone on the road, I imagine they are carjackers standing in the middle of the road, you should see how much more I accelerate before I tell myself cool off.

Right now, if you screw up you  leave. I will still be nice to you cause heaven says I be. But I will also protect myself and those I love. I try not to be shaped by the world, but sometimes you are hurt so much, you dont care for your life, you care more for the people you love, and the things you want to accomplish out of your life. If you die in the process so be it, the clouds are a soft bed, heaven is a golden place. I did my best. I am doing my best. I believe in good, I believe in having people's interest at heart, I believe I can have my interest to at heart. And no hurt in this world shall cause me to forget how I want to live.

Sad.

We can all agree on one thing. Let's all agree on one thing, the world is very unforgiving. You make a mistake, you lose someone out of your carelessness and they are gone. You drive a little faster, you make a daring turn, you get a crush, the world doesn't forgive you. It doesn't erase the mistakes you made, it tells you, you messed up, deal with the consequences.

People give you a second chance, cause people can relate, they can listen to you, and they understand you made a mistake anyone can make a mistake. But the world, with regards to things such as being at the wrong place at the wrong time, you get messed up, you look for people to blame but you have yourself to blame, you made the wrong decision.

I have myself to blame right now. I made the wrong decision, let something slip through my fingers and escape. I know it was my mistake, I shouldn't have been there at that moment, but sometimes I think probably the thing is that we leave in a bad world with bad people. But shouldn't I be blamed for being at the wrong place where there were bad people that messed me up?

At the end of the day, bad people escape, and you are left with yourself to blame, performing a postmoterm on your past actions. If only I did this, if only I did that, if only...if only my foot! I didn't do it why am I beating myself up?

So that I get prepared next time, I will be ready for the misfortune. But is that a way to live? Always trying to shield yourself from misfortune? 

I am at a sad place, am at a place of autopilot, I am brushing my teeth before I go to bed, changing into my pajamas but you can see it's out of habit. If I hadn't been doing it for days and days I bet you I wouldn't be doing the things I am doing right now. But trying to sleep early was a habit I formed a not a very long time ago. And I think that is why it is past my bedtime and am feeling careless, but I can't stop cause, I just don't care!

I bet this is the moment were women make bad decision, a state where you are so hurt you are numb, you are as good as intoxicated only out of emotion overload. They say men shouldn't make decisions immediately cause with time emotions settle and rationality sets in, and you realize probably buying a gold watch was not what you needed.

But am so hurt I dont want to be happy, have you ever felt like that? It's horrible, it is absolutely horrible and hopeless. 

I look at the heart of the girl I hope for would rise up for me, but she is dead, her love for me is in the grave. I just want her to wake up, so that I can know that she is alright, I can sleep in peace. But she is right at my bed and she is wearing a poker face.

I try to pin her to the wall, she just lies there, non reseptive to all my attempts, her face was once beautiful, more than it is now, but times have been hard, and I haven't taken care of her cause I have always wanted someone else.

I even went away and got someone else, but she disappointed me, she got into the arms of another man. She assumed that I wouldnt miss her, she assumed I didn't make chances to reach her, she changed her number and left. 

But my old one was waiting for me at home, how ever so patiently, we have times together, mostly in the morning and evening. But she look at me dead in the eye, she doest blink which is a bad thing.

She isn't walking away, she is just being unbearable to stay with, always turning on at the wrong time, getting turned off at the wrong things, when I need her the most like right now. I know I will leave her, cause she forced me too. She is making it useless to be with her.

I hate this pain, it makes me want to snap and do and things, emotional over load.

Hours, years & simple mathematics

For my birthday, in a post I did on my last blog, as in my last blog, not my last blog post had something about talking my girl to out of the country sometime this month. The exact picture was she would be in a plane, watching the clouds from above. On my birthday, she was on a plane or right, but not one that swift her away from the country, but brought here to where I am. Which is good enough. I guess dreams come true in ways we don't imagine?

I had exams the next day, I love that my birthday is on the constitution, for the rest of my life Madaraka Day will be a holiday. I intend to be in Kenya every day of that month every year of my life. To watch the cities straffic stop, shops close, school take a break, cops match, flags raised. Wouldn't you feel important if you were born on 1st June?

Only problem is I had exams the next day, so they say it takes 10,000 hours to be a superstar in your field. That means that I have to read and practice law for 4 hours for 6 years before I become a super star lawyer. That means, every day, somewhere between twira, blogging, flirting, and television I have to dedicate 4 whole hours? Why all the sacrifice?

Cause I want to be good, I goof around, and society is organized in such a way that when you are good at something, and you goof around people always say something like... "you c nani over there, nani has issues, mazee, he doesnt even say hi to people, he thinks his all that But he is a really good lawyer"
That's called forgiveness, people forgive you when you are good at something, and people show you respect. Why would I bother to be a good lawyer?

Cause when things get thick you see a lawyer, and when he unthickens you situation, he saves you from the embarrassment of shitting in your pants when the law has you by your nuts. You feel relieved. Have you ever saved someone's life? You should try it, when you do people feel like they owe you their lives. But you only can save someone's live or make it better when you put 10,000 hours, which is 4hours everyday, for 6years learning your craft, no matter what it is. If you are a good doctor, you will treat better than any other doctor, if you are an accountant, you will device legal tax avoidance strategy that boasts up you clients cheque, who doesn't want that? If you are a driver and you are reading this, you will drive so well and yet so fast but my coffee will not spill as you do your maneuvers, and I will retain you for that. No, drivers don't read my post? Okay, if you were a masseurs like the one at my barbershop if you put 10,000hours, 4hours a day, for 6years, both learning how to improve you craft and engaging in it, you could start uttering such...

"you know what, I am coming to work when I want to come to work, you know if I move I will move with all your clients, please don't disturb me, and get the fuck off my call,"

And that might be your boss. C they say you can buy anything. Money is the commodity that can literally turn into anything, it can even open doors, if can turn into anything literally, it's like magic, when you have it, you say 'dog' they bring a dog for you. If you utter 'cow' they will bring it. It's liquid, it's magic it can turn into anything, fast.

But when your kid has parked your car in a foreign town where no one knows it's you car and the municipal council guys in there yellow jackets clump your car for not paying parking fee. There will be a guy, who doesn't know you spent 4hours for 6straight years learning your craft, so that it all amounted to 10,000 hours. He wouldn't know that, all he will know is that there was one time he was in shit.

And he came to you, and since you take time to do you work well, you saved him from prison, or a lawsuit that would wipe out all the work he has ever done at the fall of a hammer. And he will take out his wallet.

"nitalipa... Dont clump that car"

"is it yours..."

"shida nini ni, c am paying, it's not your job to ask who the car belongs to..."

"nilikuwa na uliza tu."

"bass wacha kuuliza kazi yako nikuchukuwa pesa na kuenda"

No one likes there car being clumped. And when you kid always finds that every time he uses his dads old her, or she uses her dads old car, or their mum's someone somewhere feels like it's time to return a favor, every time they use those cars, no some good Samaritan always pays for the parking fees, or chases away thieves.

"Kama unaona lazima uibe, please try the next car, not that one."

It all starts with 4hours everyday, in 6years, for 10,000 to write a post like this, and money can't buy the skill to write such a post. Somehow.

Last resort

I can't survive in this baby, i have left you close enough to tell me what is disturbing you. You clearly not happy. That's the truth of the matter, it's the ghost you can't see, that's why I think you are picking fights with me.

You make emotional decisions, and you justify them with face, you decide you like me, and you help yourself to reasons why you love me, or why you don't. I am human, I am so human, if I walk into a room where I am torn apart, I am told every reason I am a bad boyfriend, nothing else. Why would I walk into that room?

It's reached a point you have only been picking the bad things about me, I see myself as bad. Maybe it's reached a point I have been so used to you complaining I don't want to pick up your calls. Subconsciously ofcource. Maybe I have reached a point I have started co plaining about your complaining you see yourself as a complaining girlfriend. Is this what we want for us? Dig for ourselves a grave.

Look at the world babe, no one has what we have even when what we have is in pieces. There is simply no other place to go to but each other. But you know our love is not like there love, self distractive and using each other as tools to receive pleasure from. You know our love is about putting each others interest before ours, and wanting the best for each other.

So baby, let's not sink this ship, let's save this titanic, let's agree I can't speak as well as I can write with matters todo with the hearts. Let's agree that, we will always find things to fight about, we are creative like that. Let's keep away the confrontation, it's not healthy to jump on each other and fight if it's not under bedsheets.

Let's find a middle ground, if we can't find new, let's go back to our past, be there to edit my work, and let me be there to BBM you. Let's start from where we begun, find where we lost our way, then forge ahead. Do you want that?

I knew you will love that? But if you feel like what am saying is fuck, princess you can just fuck off cause am tired of this shit.

Whatever it takes...

Someone tell me how I can keep a girl like her. I found her, I courted her, but I have a feeling she wants to leave? And that scares me to denial, I want to stay in denial cause if I imagine tragedy before it happens then I will not enjoy the last more moments.

I love her, but she is always trying to pick a fight with me, am calling at the wrong time, I am not talking enough, I am not doing this I am not doing that. I feel fresh tears manufacturing, what do you want me to do baby? You say if I show you I love you you will stay, I could write it on a wall with my blood that I love you, it would me more painless than the pain of a bleeding heart. Sometimes physical pain is nothing, it's the nothing compared to the pain of a bleeding heart.

If my heart beats for you, wouldn't my heart stop beating if you packed up and left? If fresh emotions run up my being every time you call, wouldn't I die of all the energy if a day went by without your phone call. They say my biological clock starts with a slop ish morning, then midmorning my energy kicks up, it goes low at lunch time, but I kick start it with lunch, sometime in the afternoon I feel sleepy and that I should have a power nap for ten to fiffteeen minutes. Naturally, in the early evenings I will be hyper and weakest when I am about to go to bed.

It's different for you, I don't need to flirt with anyone to get my excitement up in the afternoon, and to feel energetic, I just think of the moments we share, I think of us lying in bed and us talking about all manner of things, you good cooking, you making me watch food channel, you causing me pleasure, I causing you pleasure, and it's enough to energize my whole day.

Baby, I could seat down and have a cup of tea babe, but I can't, I feel like am dying when am by myself, I have too be doing something, if it's not you it could be anything else, you know, sometimes work. And sometimes, I get too absorbed in my work I forget you are on the other end.

Am sorry baby, am at fault, am sorry, what can I do baby, am sorry, I love you, please stay, baby I just don't want us to fall apart, I want us together like we are when we talk but baby why are you fighting with me? Or is it that you have always fought with me it's me who notices it right now.

I have never been in love this long babe, your love is an ocean I was dropped in, I was asked to swim in it, sometimes I want to sink, sometimes I want to swim to shore, sometimes I want to be with a boat, sometimes I want to dance on deck, sometimes I want to deep sea diving, but all times I want to be in your ocean of love. It's the only way I can breath.

Please be okay, we are perfect, people watch us babe, and they say they wish they could have what we have, if they see that babe, if they see that, why can't we see that, baby we've done long distance this long, dint give up on me, not this way baby, we've come so far, we can't just fuck such a beautiful thing, not now not this way, baby stay with me, let's stay together baby. You remember how hopeless the world was before we were with each other. I love you, you love me, am not leaving.

Question is, there are two win glasses, there is one seat, the remote is on your side of the seat, I have wrapped up a gift for you, we have a number of movies to watch? It is raining outside. Can you hear the rain, it's dark and the world is cruel. Do you want to seat under this blanket watching television as I watch you beautiful eyes and kiss you. Where my hugs are warm. Or do you want to walk out? 

The door is locked anyways, babe, I love you. Any you staying, we can't be fighting more than we love.