Tuesday 31 July 2012

Before too late.

What happened to her? What damn happened to her. She used to be the most beautiful girl. What happened? Did she add too much weight? Lose to much weight? What happened to her?

Her genes happened I guess. Her fall came after her pride. I wish I could still not be shy to hold her hand as we walk the streets. I used to, I promise you I did, even after her beauty faded. That's the problem with growing up, you don't know what will grow what will not. If your going to have large ones, if you not. If he is going to grow bald. No one knows.

I tried to walk holding her hand, I actually did. But everyone started looking at me like I could do better than her. They started to wonder why I had choosen her. While there were so many prettier fish I could choose from. But as much as I tried not to think that, as much as I tried to hold her hand. I gave in to public pressure. We all do sometimes, don't act all perfect over here. You want to tell me you have never thought you are better than some people. Shame on you, shame on me!

I didn't even write the letter. It was written for me. My friends wrote it for me. And it described her fading beauty in detail. I wondered why they were so eager for me to damp her. I didn't care much, I liked her. But I had so many people around me, so many people throwing advice at me.

So they wrote mean things to her on my behalf. They asked me to sign at the end of the letter. I signed. They left it in her desk, or her desk.  I don't know. I forgot about it.

Her eyes were red for weeks.

But I was young, I was a boy, I didn't understand. But it all comes crushing on me now. I know how it feels to be heart broken, I know how it feels to be scared. And I scared her. I didn't know I did. And when I got older, more mature, I stopped not knowing what I did. I suddenly knew how hurtles I was. But then I chose not to think about it. And I can do denial very well.

But when am here, or writing in my journal, I am forced to think through things. A word appears, after another, and it's a sentence, when it's a sentence before you know it, it's a paragraph, before you know it is a whole story. And it's a story of how you played with peoples' hearts, like they were toys.

"my heart is not a toy Bobby..."

She cries. I kiss her. I hold her. And we f*** No big deal. Make up s** brilliant! Years and years. Until one day when the worst happens.

One girl, just one, one girl that makes you change your ways after hurting her endlessly. You realize, she loves you. She really does, and all that time you have been treating her like trash. 

You change your ways for her. Not realizing its too late; You change your ways. But it's almost as if you have exchanged roles, your hot when she is cold. So you surprise her with cappuccino with caramel from Java at work, you call her for parties, and declare she is your girl. You give her a relationship, the thing she has always wanted for the last six months that you been nini-ing her. You start to remember anniversaries, you start to remember her birthdays. She doesn't wait for you to pick up her up, you always early. You pick her calls before it rings.

You trust her so much, you exchange facebook passwords. She says she doesn't want to go through yours cause she doesn't want to break her heart. She knows I have changed, she trusts me. I have always trusted her, always, she has been the angel, I have not been an angel. She is pure, and she is the one who finally inspired me to become pure. And I had changed for her, finally. But it was too late.

Cause after the inbox treads to her friends where they discuss me in detail, where she declares her love for me to a third party. You can see the date stamp, years ago. After those messages, at some moment, you find a message about a guy, and a bathtub, and her opening her door with her towel on. And them doing it. Then the guy leaves and goes to work. Then immediately after, there is some other guy at her door. She isn't even done showering, she lets him in, as in she really let's him in, two in a day. Come on.

That's got to kill a man. It had to be over.

What happened to her? What damn happened to her. She used to be the most beautiful girl. What happened? Did she add too much weight? Lose to much weight? What happened to her? I know. I just started to hate her, and now I see everything wrong about her. But am too blame, aren't I? Am the one who hurt her first? 




 

Friday 27 July 2012

Star your show.

Nothing is going to stop me. No, not even the milk in my balls, not the fillings of a bra. Nothing is going to stop me, not gold coated jewels, I want the real deal. I want my dream. Am not settling for half of it.

Am not settling for half a drive way, I want to drive miles into my compound, a round about in the middle, a fountain. A big one. Am not settling for half of that. I want the whole deal. Am not going to settle for a half marriage, half love, distributed kisses. 

...just imagine if my apartment had big windows, running from the floor to the ceiling. Taste the sun rays splash in. Clear, clean, you can taste the beauty. 

That's that. But right now, let's go shopping. There I am holding the trolley, pushing it. Looking around at the shelves, one hand driving the shopping trolley, the other on the phone. Pick peanut butter, pick chocolate spread for bread. Then on second thought return it up the shelf. I need to be healthy right...

So cottage cheese should do. I decide. Drop it in my trolley.

Wow...

I drop my phone. The battery is inches away from the screen, the battery cover is even further. The noise got her attention. Shoot. She saw me.

Am on one knee. Am trying to feel the ground with my hands, my eyes on her, instead collecting the pieces of my phone.

But her beauty is paralyzingly. I think she noticed. She giggled, she swag her shopping basket. She smiled. Then she looked away.

She walked away, she was wearing a dress. Maybe I shouldn't call it a dress. It's sort of a shuka she just put on herself; with a belt. Perfect dorm. She wrapped herself with it. It balloons where it is supposed to. It's so sheer, yet so loose. When she moves you can see the jelly vibrations move under. 

For a second time froze. Nothing else matter, not who saw me staring. Not who saw me smiling. Dropping my phone. 

"potatoes two kilos please..."

I was at the vegetable section. I had to move on, like we all have to move on when we see some one perfect. Someone attractive, someone that makes everyone look like just people. And makes you and her look like, you know how to dress better, you more cooler than everyone else. You were meant for each other.

"three tomatoes..."

As I picked one onion. Helped the shop attendant place it in the plastic bags before putting them on the scale. 

My phone wasn't on my ear any more, it was in my pocket. Forgotten. All of a sudden, I was hungry. I was doing things with my hands, picking fruits, oranges, feeling whether they were ripe. It was all natural. I was salivating. 

I was salivating for her. 

I started to push my trolley away from the vegetable section. 

"hey, man... Customer, your potatoes!"

"oh"

I went back for them. All of a sudden I was in a rush. To shop? Maybe I was trying to get close to her? Look for her, she must have been still in the shop. Is that what attraction is? Magnetism? Attraction as the world itself. 

She was picking shower gel, I stopped a distance away. I coughed. She turned. She smiled again. I smiled back. And my heart took a flight, my breathing took a pump. 

Why are you staring at shower gel? I could see the green one, I think it was Fa, for men. It had tangerine, energetic, revitalizing. They were mostly packed in black, blue, green, guy colors. Then the women's were cream, sensational, yorgut, pink, white, creamy. 

She moved away. I waited a little before I moved too.

She was about fifteen people away from the counter. I was too. But the queue next to hers. Parallel. We were stiff. I was looking at her from the corner of my eye. She was looking at me at the corner of her eye. 

It's like we were totally aware of each other. While everyone else was just in a hurry to shop and do nothing else.

...

I shut the door behind me. She looked more beautiful at closer range. Her scent was dreamy, it was as if she had worn the most wonderful perfume at one moment. Then at another moment, it wasn't there. She was (breathing in deep, breathing out deep) I didn't have her phone number. I knew she was in college. I didn't know which, but I asked her for her name. But she looked nice her right knee on the right end of my sofa seat-on cushion, her left knee on the left end of the cushion edge. I was somewhere in the middle, her dress was somewhere close to her shoulder. 

...

No am kidding. She didn't smile at me. Was it cause I didn't drop my phone? Should i have dropped my phone as a compliment? You see what happens when you live like everyone. Your story is as flat as everyones'. I don't want a flat story, you don't want a flat story. You want me to have smiled at her, and she at me. Or even better, I smiled at her, she didn't smile at me. I said hi, then she slapped me. Then everyone in the shop got involved. Then Bobby tried to out of that mess by...

Thursday 26 July 2012

Losers at night clubs

Have you watched One Tree Hill? Did you watch that television series. Everyone had gotten intimate with everyone in the group at some point. Its the twenty first century, we are all friends in a group like the television series Friends. Yes, television influences relationships, dating has become a global culture, friends with benefits will be soon. Oh & thanks to the inspiration of television couples for that! No? 

So we were a crowd, a crowd of tight friends, like Friends, all ready for an awesome night out. The club, Enigma, leather seats, glass tables, lounge, cocktail specialist, sofas in the shisha room. Six chics, four guys. Amongst us, some had dated each other & were fighting, but we still hang out together. They talked to everyone but each other. 

Obviously they sat furthest from each other. Usually, you wouldnt notice the friction between them. 

She pulled his hand, the girl in a navy blue dress. I like that girl, she knows i gaze at her, not stare, i gaze at her with dreamy eyes. But she pulled his hand from the seat. I was sure he, being my friend and knowing i had the hots for Miss. navy-blue dress. He would calmly turn down the offer to dance.

So i sipped a big one. I laughed a fake one. I pretended not to mind, that his hands was on her waist. Her bosom was close to his chest. If her sharps were erect, they would have felt his chest. But i pretended i didn't notice. That i didn't mind.

"Bobby, you having a good time..."

"pardon?"

"a-r-e   y-o-u  having a goooooood time?"

"oh yes, yes!"

Yeah right! I was having a really really good time! Nkt. I guessed everyone around the table noticed. Perhaps my eyes were swollen red with envy? Jealousy? Frustration?  Was it the reason why they were asking me if i was having a good time? I had to hide it. I couldnt let anyone know i was hurting. So i started playing with my phone.

"wow, you can dance!"

She said. She was glowing, a little sweat. The guy really sweaty, sipping the beer like he was thirsty, like it was water. 

F f f. I watched, i died. I squeezed my eyes shut. Then i opened them again. Was i trying to disbelieve what i was seeing. I think she noticed. 

"we dance?"

She pulled my hand. Her hand covered in sweat from another man. Why was i smiling? How low could i go? Why was i smiling at her. That finally she wanted to dance with me? As a second option? How low could i go? 

"no..."

I was blushing like a child. Her hand was on mine. She pulled me forcefully, i almost toppled over the long bar stool, but i didn't cause i almost toppled over the table, but i didn't topple it over, i just shoke it so that all the drinks on the table poured. Glasses broke. 

"Bobby!"

Everyone was mad for a second. But they were just drinks, its not like they wouldn't be washed away from there clothes. Its not like i had messed the floor to our table with broken glasses!

"we dance... Sorry."

After the mess was cleared by the waiter, i stood up to dance. But it was too awkward to dance. After that incident, something are just meant not to happen, especially when glasses break & things pour when you attempt to. So i declined. I sat down, then watched them go back to dance dance. She bends over, he holds her waist. She bends over, he holds her waist and thrust forward. I feel as if being buried alive would be more humane, but it wouldn't, would it? Her dress lifts up a little. Se tries to pull it down, but she is smiling. 

I decide i hate her. But i don't. He puts his hand on her back. I hate him, hell, i hate everyone!

She stands up, she faces him. She puts his hands on her waist. He puts his around his neck. But he removes her hands from his neck, gently, ati sasa cause he has dignity, my foot. Do you think he did that cause he cause knows i like her? His sh.

What the f are you doing man!

Everyone is having a good time. If i didn't have two left feet, maybe i would slice. What would you do? Thats what people do on the dance floor, they slice. But only people who can dance. Too bad i cant do anything but be a cartoon on the dance floor.

I don't want to yawn, cause i know if i do. I might cry. And the people around me will not understand. I will no longer be that guy they put on the pedestal. That guy who knows everything about howtogetlaid. 

So i don't yawn.

There is a girl across the table next to our table. She is wearing a head gear. So, already she has lost points on that. She is not like the girl in the navy blue dress. But at least her, she isnt sweaty.

I wink at her. Cause when you feel as hurt as i did, you are brave enough to wink. I dont look away when she makes eye contact, cause when you look away, then look back at her you look like a creep.

The first few seconds you make eye contact with her, you approach holding eye contact and say hi. She then thinks you are confident. Nailed it.

Next thing i remember is for the first time in my life i felt what being high was. I felt what being drunk was. I remember starting to get really inappropriate then nothing else.

...

I found myself being helped to walk by three people. Two were my friends, guys the ones i went out with. The other one was a girl. The one we were out with, who never spoke to me when we were out. But i sat next to her.

"no, not the carpet!"

I couldnt feel myself. I remember complaining that they shouldn't step  on my beautiful carpet with there dirty muddy shoes. Really? Was i complaining? And they had gone out of there way to carry me home. 

They put me on the bed, one removed my shoes. The other placed the pillow right under my head. 

"Bob, the key is on the window pane..."

"whattttttt?"

"the keyyyyyy is on the window pane, we will lock the door and leave throw the keys into the house through the window ..."

I closed my eyes cause it felt nice closing them.

"text me tht..."

"what?"

"text me that so that i remember..."

The moment they were out. I half sobered up. Why does that happen? I tried to find my way to the kitchen. Wow do i love that i have a corridor. It really helped cause i could suspend my body with my hands between the two walls. I got to the kitchen, leaned on the fridge, that door was heavy, but i opened it. I got a bottle of keringet. And downed it all at once. Then i threw the bottle on the wall. And the lid to the sink. I was still mad.

I walked out slowly supporting myself. I checked three times that i had closed the fridge. 

Shoot, my carpet! The carpet has a foot print of dirt on its edge. I dropped onto it like a bag of potatoes. My phone was there. Checked my messages. 

-the key is at your window pane. Call me when you wake up!

I forwarded the text, minus the last part. 

-the key is at your window pane. 

She called. 

"are you sure? You aren't sober!"

"i am sure..."

"okay, am coming."

I took my wallet out of my pocket. I really hoped i had one. I really hoped i had one, i did. One Durex. Yessssssss! And i slept right there on the carpet. Very far away from the stain.

...

When morning came. I felt aweful. I woke up alone but i saw her head gear. I remembered putting on the rubber, i remember not enjoying it as much. I remember trying not to come. But then i remembered, hey am high. So i am forgiven for coming too early. So i let. Then i slept. Then i complained to her about the girl in the navy blue dress. When she was offended, i started to tell her how tight she was, how nice it felt, how she had bigger curves than the girl in the stupid navy blue dress, she laughed.

...

Did i tell you where i found her in the morning? I found her in the sitting room. She was wrapped up in my bedsheets watching television taking coffee. 

"i need to go to court..."

"okay."

I showered. The head ache didnt go. I felt sick. I felt like throwing up. But i needed a distraction. So i needed to get out of the house. And what other place to go, than the place I will win. A place I run the show, no, not the dance floor. The court floor.

I wore a blue stripped shirt, cause it looked ironed, even when it doesnt it looks nicely raggedly, wore a pair of black suit trousers. Black shoes, i was glad they were polished. I sprayed my cologne, brushed my teeth, rinsed with my mouth wash so that i could feel better. 

"can i stay, i will bring you the keys in town..."

I hesistated. But what the hell. 

"sure!"

And now am in court. And suddenly i feel at ease. What i thought was the high court, was the chief magistrate court. And i have been sitting there listening not knowing for so long!

But now am in the high court.  Am not on the dance floor. Am where I win. 

Sunday 22 July 2012

...team heart & mind, no matter your temperament!

“Your emotions are the slaves to your thoughts, and you are the slave to your emotions.” ― Elizabeth Gilbert

Am I a slave to my emotions? They say we make the worst decision when we are emotional. Did I make the worst decision yesterday?

"hello..."

"hello, baby leave me... Just leave me..."

"what's wrong? Do you really want me to leave you?"

I can tell her shock, I can tell the sadness in her voice.

"I love you baby, but you going to leave me..."

"why do you always say that?"

I've had such a long day. Am so depressed. Am so sad. And they are affecting all my decisions. Now why am I trying to push the people I care for the most out of my life. I know...

"I don't want to drag you in my mess baby, of late I don't think I have brought you any happiness, all the time we talk am complaining, almost crying, crushing..."

"but babe, am here for the good and the bad."

I am quiet, for a while. I feel myself thinking I want to hang up, but I don't. Am too numb. I start to wonder, how long can I stick with someone who is always complaining, always crushing, always almost crying... I can only take so much. Why is she here? She hasn't given up on me yet. I would if I was her.

"...but babe, am here for the good and bad."

And it just humbles me, puts me in a place I feel undeserving of her love, I feel am taking the most out of this relationship, and she is losing out. I feel like am not doing enough. Normally, it would be a good thing. But it's not when you really love someone, cause when you really love someone you are the one who wants to do more for them.

"...hello."

It's almost a minute since anyone said a word, but she still on the line. I hang up. She calls back, I don't feel like picking up. I don't feel like doing crap. 

Maybe it's cause I've been served a piece of hell of late by life, such stress am getting head aches, and I never, I never ever get head aches. My eyes are painful, I don't know what's up. My thoughts are heavy, am mad, am mad at the world, am angry at a lot of things, people. I cared, and was betrayed in the worst ways imaginable. 

But since am well read, I know what happens when that happens. One gets emotional, and that emotion clouds judgement, makes one make bad decisions. Am i intoxicated with too much negative emotion that I don't realize it's a bad thing am doing watching her call and not picking up? Is it that am making a bad decision by deciding to drive instead of taking a cab home? They say you shouldn't drive drunk... But I promise you it's as bad to drive drunk as to drive angry. It clouds your judgement, that don't care attitude makes you become more daring. I can see my legs loose on the pedals, its as if they are trembling out of anger but am trying to get them to press the break.

My body is reacting as if I have just been in a fight. So what do I do... I don't try to calm down, cause I don't want to calm down. Sometimes you don't just want to stop crying, right? I didn't want to calm down. I don't try to calm down. I just try to think rationally, what would I normally do if I wasn't feeling this way? I would call her back when I see her missed call, I would think about her beauty, it usually comes me down...

...calling babe.

Teeeeeeet. Teeeeeeet. Teeeeet.

...babe not available.

I try redialing.

Teeeeeeeet. Teeeeeeet.

"hello..."

I hear her voice. I calm down. It's like I was holding my breath until I heard her voice. Hearing her voice I can breath.

"...I love your eyes, remember when they reflected the ocean that day at that hotel in North Coast?"

"...babe are you okay."

I ignore. Cause this relationship cannot be all about me complain about my problems. So, I ignore what she said, go on.

"I have your pink tshirt, you sprayed it with your perfume when you wore it..."

"you wear it?"

"no, pink tshirt...are you serious, babe how the f would I. Wear a pink tshirt."

She laughs.

"I wear yours..."

"yes, I gave you a blue shirt, obviously you will wear it... But pink babe, I can't even try to fit it, it has glitters on the print, come on!"

"but it's to sleep..."

"babe, if I wear it, I might start having periods like a girl."

She laughs. She is happy.

"I put it on the pillow of the left side of the bed, when I wake up it's usually the first thing I see, sometimes I feel the scent soaking up as I take in fresh air in bed in the morning. It reminds me to call you."

"ohh, so sweet, so it just stays in your bed..."

"yes! When I make my bed, I crumple it under one of the pillows."

"wow!"

"it's cause I miss you, and actually love you..."

"but am sometimes worried, I used to be very lucky, of late I don't feel as lucky..."

"I know babe."

"but I know things will get better, I always win..."

I don't know whether am trying to convince her, or convince myself that I always win, that I will win, that the sun will shine & it will be blissful, like it was before, even better.

Bye. 

Bye.

At that very moment, I feel proud of not taking out my anger senselessly on the acceleration paddle, on the conversation with my girl. Emotion is a bad thing then, cause what if I just left her, or told her to leave me. Or made her leave me? What if... Wouldn't I be more f? Wasn't it wise to suppress my tragedy-generated emotions to keep this relationship working? Yes. I believe.



But that's just one side of the story.

"wapi pesa wewe?"

"lipa, kila mtu amaelipa!"

We were about six in the matatu, not counting the conductor, the driver and me. Mainly mamas, I mean big women, the ones you know have kids. The guy seated infront of me was clean, but he was wearing faded clothes. He looked like a thief, but he was too mpole to be one. He was the one who hadn't paid.

"lipa wewe wacha ujinga..."

The guy just sat there oblivious of what the conductor was saying. And he got louder when he realized that the passenger was a quiet one. He wasn't retaliating. Isn't that what people do? When you seem quiet and harmless, they try to exert there power over you?

He was doing exactly that. I was seated there. Watching all these,like everyone was.

"simamisha gari..."

The driver stopped. The conductor pushed the guy out of the matatu. The guy fell by the road side, after being pulled inhumanly from the matatu. He didn't resist imagine. 

And when he was on the ground, we all giraffed our necks to see what was happening. He was slapping the guy; a man on the ground! He was getting into his pocket; a man on the ground! trying to get what was in the mans wallet. The wallet of a defenseless man on the ground!

I felt a rush of anger. I felt my legs tremble, like I wanted to fight. 

"mwacheeee mwacheeee!"

"mwacheeee mwacheeee!"

"mwacheeee mwacheeee!"

"woiy."

"Woiyee"

The mamas in the car started yelling, complaining. And I was full of rage, I was angry, I had wanted to pay for him, but I though maybe I would look pretentious, or the conductor, the driver, the passengers might feel najiskia. But when we left him lying on the ground.

I felt disgust, I felt dirty, I felt angry, I felt my legs shake. I felt ready to throw a fist at that idiot conductor. What if that guy has sick... What if? Instead if helping him you just f slap him. What the f. That's what I was feeling!

They say making emotional decision is bad. It clouds judgement, I have read that over and over again. But I want to be original enough, and be smart enough to decide to think for myself things. And what I think right now, what I thought then, sometimes making an emotional decision is good.

I should have made an emotional decision, acted on impulse, which probably would have made me cause a scene, I would have given that conductor a piece of my lawyer mind, I should have shown him how much an idiot he was for doing what he did. Come on, the mamas complained! Why the f didn't I get involved? I still regret to this day, and I don't want to stop to regretting. Cause the next time I see such idiotic behaviour, I will fight back for someone who isn't fighting back for themselves.

Even if it is just yelling. The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart. Your emotions are the slaves to your thoughts, and you are the slave to your emotions. Team heart & mind, no matter your temperament, ama? 

“The emotion that can break your heart is sometimes the very one that heals it...” ― Nicholas Sparks

I will heal my heart next time, even if it means just yelling!

Misery loves company.

The air is cool, my bladder is full, I can see the ash rooms right ahead but am not in the mood. The scenery is nice, but a little cold, I can see the whole town from here, up on the balcony. The tables have linen on, the umbrellas are brown. The glass windows are tinted green, the perfect much.

Thinking I would be happy, cause am here, with the best coffee in town yet to be served, the nicest restaurant in town is normal. But life is not always what it seems.

I am here alone, with my iPad cause am running away from my friends.

They weren't I'll intended but they s

Am that guy, no she is not that girl, the depressed one, the one always sad. Am that guy, am that guy who is alone.

"hey what are you up to?"

"...am in town?"

"you busy?"

"am with my friends."

I hear laughter in the back ground. 

"Can I pick you up?"

"no am dropping them home."

Her folks let her drive the Prado. Happy, girl, I no longer pick her up. She is no longer there when I call. She is busy, she's moved on.

"when will you be done?"

"5:30, hapo six."

"it's okay, lets make it another day."

I want her to tell me, hey, no, no come join us. I want her to tell me, hey, come, let's share a bed. I know that always makes you feel alright. I want her to keep me company cause otherwise this self destructive thoughts might kill me. Literally. 

She is quiet.

"so will make it another day. Bye."

"bye."

Not a word more, not a word less. I scroll down and up.

"hey."

"I called like three, four times."

"sorry, was busy..."

"where you?"

"at home."

"what are you upto?"

"...just chilling."

"am driving there already."

"no... You can't come now."

"why?"

"cause I don't want to go to work, tomorrow is Monday."

I hang up without saying bye. I need to preserve some of my pride. The first to leave the conversation. I wear my seat belt as I drive, I don't talk on the phone while I drive. But am at a little over a hundred. The stereo is loud. And I text.

-okay let me turn back to town!

She texts back- I know you in the house. 

I throw my phone on the passengers seat angry. I figure it will bounce back and break. I contemplate on whether to press the breaks, park by the road side, pick it up. See whther it is broken. Am shocked, I actually stop, put the hazard lights on and check it. It's alright!

Even when am as self distracting as driving fast while texting. I still care not to end my life in a crash. 

I scroll up and down again.

Phone rings. Phone rings. Phone rings on her end. She doesn't pick up. We were to meet at four. It's five, thirty. She will be a no show.

"hello?"

"hello?"

I look at the screen. Oh, sorry, it didn't even go through. I look at the road. Change the gears from automatic, to manual. I press the accelerator, to the floor.

Do you know what happened?

Guess?

I felt nice. Overtaking cars. Hooting at tuk tuks, bullying them. Doing the same to matatus, it felt nice. 

All of a sudden I decide to take a turn from the high way one way, the one close to the pretty Cfc Stanbic bank branch, the one next to KCB, and I take another left. I get to bank of Africa, the big building. I look up from the windscreen and that's when I see the umbrellas, and the glass. I've been here a couple of times, am happy. Coffee. 

The only think I do is hope that's have my iPad. Cause she always keeps me company, she is reliable, not like people in my life. Sorry to say, am high on emotion, this is as good as drunk talk.

I want to get out of the car, but Drakes song is playing, Marvin's Room, which started to play right after ColdPlay, I used to rule the world... Viva La Vida. I can't not let that song play. 

I look out of the window, I see some very beautiful girls in a crowd, with there friends. They seem to be having fun. I should go say wassup. But then I look at there shoes and they look awesome but a little too loud. Like they are trying. And I change my mind. I stay in the car. 

One turns and she has a big a. She makes my p rise a little. I reach for my phone.

I scroll down my phone book.

"hey?"

"hiiiiiiiiii" 

She is happy to hear my voice. But she is like two years older than me, but also two times hotter than every girl I know in this town. 

"so what are you up to?"

"imagine jobo"

I really hate it when people say that. Jobo. Sh. But I say it too. 

"what time are you leaving?"

"around six."

"see you then."

I hang up. I get out of the car. I got upstairs. The guard at the door runs that thing through me to search for a grenade I think. Yeah, it's my hair. I know. He seems my iPad. He stops searching, I take a step in, he calls me again. I freeze. He does his search again, it's my button. I stare at him. 

"fuck you... Ntakulipua, sh."

Okay that's not what I told him. I walk in. 

I take the stairs. I feel nice, now that am there, ready to blog. My release. I ony see white folks around. With their stupid Apple sh. 

I seat outside, on the nice seats. I make another call.

"hey?"

"wassup?"

"what are you up to?"

"am just at home."

"am coming to get you in fifteen minutes."

"make that half an hour"

"ah, it's okay then, let I will see you next time."

I don't know what is wrong with me. I can't even have the patience to wait that long and probably I will send even more time picking her up.

"we do a b*** f*** I've missed those twins."

She doesn't say anything back.

But she send me a text half an hour later. Telling me she really hates my mood swings, she also texts me telling me she is already ready. She doesn't know why I was making a fuss. But am not in the mood anymore. But am I not?

So... These f***s haven't brought my coffee. Or even come to ask me what I want?

I get in the restaurant, out of the balcony. 

"nimekuja hapa ndo mnione."

I don't know why I talked in swahili. Maybe cause the people there are...

"give me a cappuchino..."

"you take visa right?"

She keeps looking at my card, I figure it's my I.D she wants. I place my I.D on top of it. 

"200 bob using Visa. The ATM is just down stairs"

"how much should I spend for you to run my card?"

...she is quiet. Smiling like a little girl. Am wearing a smile but inside I want to shout her hair off her head. 

"give me two coffees then."

I go back to blogging, writing something on my tab. She still isn't picking my card. So I look at her, give her my audience f again. 

"how much do you want me to spend?"

"1000 bob and more..."

Really? You can't me to order four f coffees and am seated alone. Really? I eat her often, I bring my date here often, but I'd forgotten am not in Mombasa or Nairobi, where it's all credit card everywhere.

"there is a Visa place down stairs..."

"those are like eight fleets of stairs down!"

I don't want your coffee that badly. B****! So I walk out, with no presence that am coming back. That's the first time I've been disappointed there. She tells me that they will be charged by the bank, I tell her they will not. I tell her then f hick your prices. I don't through bad words though, cause I bring my dates here. And I tip them well. I don't want to be in bad books for no good reason. But for a good reason, f it.

-I've left, those fucks don't take credit card. 

I text the chic at work.

I get to the car, I think about editing this. And think too much work. Spelling mistakes, so what, grammar errors so what. Those red lines telling me to correct sh. They are just that sh. Misery loves company, and my iPad gives me the best. It's where I write on. So don't f touch it. Am emotionally attached to my words, to this device. It keeps me sane. 

Misery loves company, and you are my company iPad. Oh yes yu are, oh yes you are. Bye!

Friday 20 July 2012

Hobbies, not bizz

When they love you, it's boring. When they don't love you, you want them to. When you are beautiful, you don't need to hear it, you can't stand to hear it! When you not, you die to here it. And when you get to hear it, you do anything to hear it, unthinkable things.

But you never think about the unthinkable things you do to hear sweet thing. Or to feel worthy. When you have to many people in your life, you are unstable. You are trying to compensate for something. When you have too little, you are lonely, you are unpopular. If you are unpopular, you are unattractive.

When you are normal, you aren't special. When you are special, you aren't normal, when you are special and not normal, then you start becoming normal. You try to hold on to what made you awesome. But you are fading away, so you start to do things to keep yourself from fading away.

When you write good posts, they are happy, when you don't they are not. If they stumble upon this one and feel its shit. They might never come back again.

But that's why it's a hobby. Who cares? Come? Go. I will still be here. It makes me happy. 

Quitters never win, if it is walking the plank on a sinking ship, so be it!

I don't like bad people, I don't like them at all. I know it is easy to be bad. Sometimes being bad is simply being unable to put yourself in another's shoes.

I haven't gone a day hungry. I haven't been without a roof over my head, I have never. And sometimes that makes you arrogant. When you have everything. When a beggar tells you, hey I have nothing to eat. You sneer at them and think in your mind, if you had worked hard, if you had acted smart, you wouldn't been here by the road side begging for food.

So, I admit it, I have been heartless. I have been careless, I have played with women's hearts like they were toys. I have manipulated people. I have used peoples weakness to serve my own pleasures. I have been nasty, not too nasty cause I think am a good person by all standards. But I feel proud saying that, and pride is not a good trait. It comes before a fall.

I don't want to be the guy who raises up his hand when they ask for the most humble person to raise his hand.

I have walked the streets without a care, I have done as I please with total disregard for everything & everyone. But life has happened. And I kind of now get what it feels to be hungry. Even if I was not more than hungry for a day, I get what it feels.

I get what it feels to be not loved, I get what it feels to have no one to give you her heart. I get what it feels, and I wish it upon no one. Okay, maybe I wish it upon some people. I can't believe that now I have enemies. And am supposed to treat them like my friends. NkT! 

Let's leave those heavy thoughts, let's look forward. 

I am not myself, I have not been myself. Has stuff ever happened to you that robbed you of the bliss you have when you don't have a care in the world. A simple day where you have tea with your loved ones, worry about exams, the simple stuff. Have you had days you would crave such mundane stress? I have, it's like a piece of hell I have been feeling for the past few days...

But you know what?

Am crying now. Am on the ground now, am ruined now. I am feeling what going mad might feel. But am holding on. I am so holding on I don't have time for anything else for holding on. 

Have you ever had such heavy thoughts you landed on your bed, you tried to cry yourself to sleep but the tears don't come out. And crying is usually a relief. The relief is not here.

But do you know what I do in spite of this all.

I do everything I am supposed to do. I fight on, I don't crush. Even if I crush, I stand up like a stone, I take a shower even if I can't tell the difference whether the water is hot or cold. I eat my breakfast even though I can't find pleasure in the taste of chocolate choco pops cereals mixed with weetabix without sugar to try keep the diabetes a bay. I can't taste them, but I still slice the bananas and soak them up. Cause I got to be healthy, even though am dead inside.

I got to pick my perfume, I got to spray it on me. I got to pick my tie tuck, or tie pin. I have to wear it just right. Comb my hair, apply gel but hope to apply mousse cause I hear it's better. 

I do this things, cause I can't let myself stay on the ground. If it is to crawl I will crawl. I know the days will be better in the future. Seven months from now, even shorter. Seven years from now, seventy years from now, I will still be hear. And I will wish at this time, I didn't break down, I didn't break my routine. Pray in the shower, start thinking about how to solve my everyday problems when I start on the shampoo. Right now am thinking of a water bottle, this bed is too cold. The best ideas come while I am in the shower. When Eureka was in the shower.

Get good music to play in the back ground as I write on my blog. Head phones, the tune comes me down. I don't want to crush, I am holding on. Cause I know the path for my life.

Am not shallow like you are. I don't just have big jobs as my dream. In fact, that is not as important as dreaming of how I intend to be a better person. Dreaming of how I can be an angel. Maybe it's cause I don't understand that when one is hungry for things they tend to become heartless, and things become important. I never wish to be like that, if living in the oblivion of believing that it's better to be an angel than all else. Don't wake me up!

I don't dream of having a good attitude more than I dream of having a good job. Cause I have wanted to learn and I've learnt a lot.

I've learnt that the more friends you have, past a certain number, the more shallow your relationship with them is. The less friends you have, the more likely you have a deep relationship with them. The more dependable you are to them. The more important they feel, and everyone want to feel needed. 

But I have also learnt that, all that may be incorrect. And my mind is opened.

Life is quite something. Don't you agree?

I have hurt. Am not sure I will recover.

But I will not let my life die. I will do what am supposed to, I will change the music on my iPod to happier music, cause I said I will do that in my last post. I will prefer Jaguars to Range Rovers cause I don't like to be everyone. But I will still love to get my girl diamonds, yes, I know, it's a cliche, but isn't that the point. That guy actually gets his girl diamonds. 

I want to stand for what is right, I want my charm to be being good. Being the good guy. I want to be the guy who will be driving alone on the high way at 2am in the morning. I want to be the guy who will ask you...

"hey, can I help?"

And you would be there stuck on the road for over an hour. At a dark place, afraid. And I want to be the guy who will let you in his car, take you to the nearest town, rent a towing truck for you. Drive back with the towing truck. 

Get out of the car, ruin my suit trying to help the break down guys to attract your car to the towing truck. While you will be seated on the passengers seat of my car calling everyone you love you okay. I want to be the guy who will make sure you are okay.

I want to be the guy who will drop you and your car at hotel nearby. I want to be the guy who will be powerful enough to get ex-Dt Dobie mechanics to fix your car during the night as you sleep in the hotel. 

I want you to wake up in the morning, find you car fixed, your hotel bill cleared, and my name missing.

Why? Should my name be missing. Cause I don't want you to feel indebted to me. I don't. I want you to remember that, hey, there was this guy. He was a perfect gentleman. He was almost like an angel.

And the next time you are on the road at 2am, probably you will not stop like I will, cause not everyone decides to give up his life for another. I would only wish you at least get the stranger some help.

So what if today has been a long day? So what if I don't edit this post? So what? So what it no one reads this? So what? So what if everyone reads this? So what? So what if I am not there yet?
 I have strong conviction. I know what I want. It took me maybe ten years to know what I want, and am still revising those conviction. But the themes is the same, the idea is the same.

I believe anyone can do anything, provided they choose to do that thing and stick with it. Cause no matter what you do, no matter how bad you are, if you put time in it, you will make a mistake, but you will learn, next time you will do it better. How many years do we have? So many. Now imagine making such mistakes for ten years? Can you persevere? Do you have the patience? It's going to happen.

I know what I want, am just revising it, but the theme is just the same. You can't break me, I will be on my two feet in a second, and be on my path, and I might just become such an angel. I take the risk of stopping for a stranger in need, if he is going to suffer, let me suffer with him. Misery loves company anyways. 

Tomorrow is another day, aren't we bullet proof. Shooting stars. Am aiming for the stars. What are you doing?

Wednesday 18 July 2012

Those Westlands Cops.

"Bobby, you remember you used to take me for breakfast dates at 6am before I went to work?"

Funny thing she was facing her friend who sat next to her on the back seat as she said this, instead of looking at me as she said this. I adjusted the rare mirror careful so that i could still control the steering wheel well. When I could see them both well from the rare mirror I went on to answer her.

"that wasn't even the best part for me, I loved what we did before..."

"you remember?"

"how could I forget you and me parked outside that new halfway constructed building...wait a minute, you used to bribe the watchman, didn't you? Didn't you? How could he just let us do that in that compound?"

She smiled first then started laughing. 

"Bobby, Kwani were you embarrassed about her? Why didn't you take her to the club and you took me?"

I adjusted the rare mirror again, I actually missed to see a bump when she said that. 

"sorry!"

The car made noise, all our heads almost hit the ceiling of the car. The four of us. The two girls in the back seat and the guy on the co-drivers seat.

"We never went to the country club with you?"

"yeah, I was working, that's why... I want free during the day and it usually was too early to go to the club."

"no he was embarrassed about you. He doesn't take chics he is shy about to the club."

"that's not true!"

I laughed to try to diverge attention from that topic. 

"he bought me this phone..."

Huh? I didn't buy her a phone. But I didn't object, cause when a girl lies about something knowing you know that she is telling a lie, it's best to play along. I didn't say a thing. No one said a thing. The car became quiet.

"it's here."

He pointed to the left. I took the Parking Card from the watchman, drove in and parked. It was time for Nyama Choma! The four of us sat around a single table. We laughed like old times, we talked about how guys usually are friends forever, while women always break up with there friends. Obviously the women complained, stating it wasn't true, that they don't backstab there friends. But come on, guys are usually friends for longer than women. No? Why is that? 

It was five minutes when I got that phone call. 

"where are you? It's late. When are you coming home?"

"just a few minutes am coming."

"it's late, you should come home right now."

Silence.

"hello?"

"okay, am coming."

I walked back to the table, I could see the looks on everyones' face. I didn't know how to tell them... Turns out I didn't need to tell them.

"we have to leave right?" 

"yeah, pole."

The nyama choma was packed in the shiny metallic wrapping thing it's always packed in. I headed to the washroom. He gave the meat to the ladies to take to the car. I gave them the car keys and asked them to wait for us in the car.

"you have a slow puncture, we can't leave." she offered.

I looked at the wheel. It was half empty, I didnt know how to change a wheel. Scratch that, I don't know how to change a wheel up to now. And there was no way I was letting another man know I didn't know how to change a wheel.

"it's okay, let's just go..."

"are you sure? You will spoil the rims."

But I was already in the car. Everyone got in, and they all had fun teasing me on how I don't care about the wheel, spoiling the wheel. I let them, anything but them teasing me about my not knowing how to change a wheel. If they knew I didn't know how to change a wheel they would tease me for life. As in drag my name in mud forever. And mud is dirty. Am clean!

It felt as if the car was sluggish, I don't know whether it was cause of the wheel or cause I already knew I had a slow puncture. 

Don't you hate it when you are receiving so many phone calls, and your friends can see you phone ringing, but you aren't picking it up. It's usually uncomfortable. But it works, when you keep calling someone they feel like they need to hurry, it instills the guilt, not every hour, every minute. And that is when I decided to do something I haven't done in a long time. I picked up the phone, right hapo Westlands roundabout, yes hiyo karibu na the Mall. 

Immediately I had the phone on my ear, just as I turned to get into the roundabout. You know what happens?

Guess?

I see two cops. Yes. With kabutiz and guns. There torches pointing up and down, asking me to stop. It is clear I was on the phone, cause the light from the screen was bright on my face.

These things just happen, there I was caught. Everyone in the car was quiet. Shoot. Shoot. Shoot. I reduce the volume on the radio. I park at the side of the road. 

He stands next to my door. I roll down the window.

"Driver license?"
 
So typical. I think they ask for that first, cause it would be easier to charge someone for not having a drivers license. Why do you handa someone for talking on the phone while his driving and it's easier to handa one who is seated on the drivers seat illegally anyways? (Good thing the new laws allows one to present their drivers license in 24hours, I think?) 

He pointed his flash light on my D.L, I knew it was signed, I had renewed it for two years, so it wasn't expired. If those were clean, the next would be the insurance. But I was in a big car, I was in a new car. So I figured he would not bother. He didn't.

"Bobby, kwa nini una ongea na phone uki drive?"

I didnt say anything. 

"C umenunua gari kubwa mapema."

"hapana hii ni ya mzee"

And imagine I laughed kidogo. 

"Sasa si unajua we will have to take you to court, unless utatoa something small, naskia nyama choma ikinukaia..."

Then I laughed again. Not the loud laughter, as in laughing at him. No. That light one to show I wasn't afraid of sh. I have been to court, I know what happens to traffic offenders.

"ah sasa unanipeleka huko na huko ndo nafanya internship..."

He pointed the flash light back into the car. Not to my face, at least police men aren't that crude. He pointed at my trouser, dashboard what not.

"c sasa ndo vizuri, you work there, so unajua the law, c unajua sheria vizuri..."

Hehehe 

Yes, exactly like that, that how I laughed. Thrice, like I was reading the laughter.

"unafanya nini huko?"

"niko law school."

He looked at me again. 

"enda..."

So I drove off. 

So everyone in the car was in awe. Ati next time they are getting caught with me. In my mind, I was thinking. Okay, I knew roughly how much a fine I would have to pay if I was taken to court, I knew roughly what magistrate I would stand before, I roughly thought that the cop knew that i knew that it was an offense for him to ask me for a bribe, and I had a whole lot of witnesses in the car, it would be his word against mine. But I knew all these things roughly, and I used that knowledge to handle the situation. But roughly isn't good enough, it was then, but will it be later? I wish I would know exactly how much fine I would pay, what my defense would be (even though traffic are strict liability) I wanted to know for sure what magistrate I would stand before. I wanted to know for sure. I want to know for sure.

So I dropped everyone home. 

The last girl told me.

"you know she is the one who removed air out of your tyre so that you'd stay longer. But you are so unpredictable, (insert laugher) you just drove like that!"

She planted a forced kiss on my cheek. And as I drove home, I thought more about how I need to freshen up my knowledge on the constitution and other laws. Put them into real life situation as i studied them. I didn't once think about the tyre incidence. Only of course as evidence to the fact that women backstab each other, even when they are friends.

So...open my book. Time to become an awesome lawyer.

Tuesday 17 July 2012

He came to say Hi to me as I posted this.

Am in court, a few minutes ago I was at my tailors. Successful men have tailors. He was fixing my sweater. My sweater is grey, and mute in pastel. That's stylish. It is a three piece. I bought it long ago, there were three of them, a navy blue one, a maroon one, and the grey one. The grey one is the one I picked. It's one of those pieces you get that define your wardrobe. Two years down the line, even if you wanted to get one like this, no matter how badly, you just can't. I love it, and that it was why it was at the tailors. 

Half of the lawyers here I know. The guys behind me are making jokes about giving the judge a hundred bob to make him come seat instead of having his break. It's definitely a joke, since 100 bob. Really? I think they are talking to each other loud enough for me to hear. Cause am smiling and they notice. Such civilians. 

One of the lawyers standing in front is a father to one of my childhood friends. We used to play in his mansion when we were kids, no, let's not call it a mansion, let's give credit to where it is due. We used to play in his versed estate. I think he is one of the people who inspired me to go to law school. When I was a kid I used to notice how he had his cars polished. Yes, waxed, and what not. The windows sprayed with that special soap for windows. He had a number of cars but his BMW was only used on special occasions. It used to lie there in the garage sparkling from being well-maintained, the car actually smelled of actual leather inside even though one window was always opened. It was an old one, but it looked new. It looked prestigious, it was the kind people are proud to drive. 

"yes, you have a new BMW..."

"but I have been driving one before you even realized they are good cars..."

It was that kind. 

Peugeot. That was the car he used on an everyday basis, Friday he used the BMW. The Peugeot was white, that time Peugeot were something. They still are. But that time, before Prados and SUVs they were quite something. 

He drove it fast, it was as neat. 

Here he is now, those days we used to run with his kids upstairs after checking out the car. Then play video games, watch a movie. Wash the chicken, yes, we used to drown them just for fun. Even then I was merciful, I used to only heat them with a broom, a light broom, trying to train them to obey orders.

"kukus get into one room..."

"get into one room"

We were totally kids. Probably that's what I will do with my kids to. I will expose them to the right things, I will hang out with them in the office, I will let them go to the cockpit in planes, I will go pick the car from Dt. Dobie with them, or CMC, so that they are exposed to the right things. Imagine if all they did was watch those movies with strippers, and war people and what not. Imagine if I didn't go visiting my friend when I was a kid, and loved the way lawyers operate. I wouldn't be here, seated in this court room really mad that the judge hasn't showed up yet. Get back here from your lunch break already!

Monday 16 July 2012

Please, make an appointment!

Sometimes I think we don't know ourselves as well as those that observe us know us. No, you disagree? You think you know yourself?

"have you eaten? Bobby, have you eaten?"

"no... What does this have to do with this?"

"everything, when you are hungry you are usually such a pessimist"

It hits me like a stone. But I can't react back, cause thinking about it a fresh I realize, oh my she is right.

"why are you drinking so much?"

"am not drinking so much Bobby."

"okay."

I look at her, and shake my head.

"you don't believe me Bob? Kwani why do you think am drinking too much..."

"I know you, you have make-up on, it's a bit heavier than usual, you have bought new clothes, your skirt is a little shorter than usual, you are very friendly, you always chatting on your phone these days...are you lonely?"

"no."

She laughs a little louder than usual. The laughter one does and looks out of the window, as if to evade the conversation. 

I change the conversation.

"so how is school by the way?"

"fine."

Still looking out of the window.

"how is your boyfriend?"

"fine."

"how are your periods?"

"fine..."

I laugh as I shake my drink to stir it. The bubbles fizzle.

"wait, what... What did you last ask?"

"nothing."

"Bob come on."

"...you come on, am trying to talk to you and you so absent minded. Are you still thinking about the lonely thing?"

She smiles.

"yes, I hadn't looked at it that way."

Yes, she hadn't looked at it that way, I think most of the time we act before we think. I know that too well. Wear short dresses, chat more than usual? It's time we asked ourselves why our habits have changed all of a sudden? What are we spending so much time on these days? Sometimes we act before we think, don't we?

Cause some nights, you just too horny, you spend the whole night chatting to people, texting, it's 10pm, it's 11pm, it's 12am, it's 1am, it's 2am, you aren't talking about anything nasty. But you are only talking to women. And you dont realize what you are doing. Just like when you wake up at 5am in the morning, you find yourself in the kitchen shaking an empty carton of milk, trying to look for a fruit to eat, but your mind is thinking about other things. But when you actually observe your actions you realize. Hey, I want to get laid. Hey, am looking for something to eat without knowing it.

That's when you stop. 

Life happens, money you waste you can make up for it, but time, time just goes. Stuff has been happening to me, and I lost my way.

I find myself in bed more often than not, maybe it's the cold. Yes it's the cold, am waking up at 2pm, that means i have less hours of day light, am speninf too much time on television, and I don't like it. If you like to watch television, if that's the plan for relaxation in your life, it's not wasting time. But when it's not,  and you are spending so many hours on it like i have been lately, then you wasting time. Wake the f up!

I consider my life a movie, so I watch less of movies and live more of them. What I want to do less is watch less of television, spend less time chatting compensating for the horniness I have, these online relationships are good, but they aren't the real thing, especially when I start to feel I have more a presence on screen than in real life.

A good business person will ask you to conduct a financial audit, a great business person will tell you, conduct a time audit! A smart person would advice you to look at your day, and how you allocate your time. Conduct a personal time audit, if you want to live the life you want to.

I want to go back to traveling with my girl, seeing the country, eating out, I love eating out, nice places. I love sports, lawn tennis and squash, horses and... But I haven't been doing that, cause usually am so focused on my horniness, or the weather is too cold, it's inconveniencing to go to the club for a game. And a sweaty game at the squash  is what makes me happy. 

So it's time I sat down, it's time I decided, becoming a great lawyer is important to me, that means I have to put a certain number of hours to be good at it. I must put that in my schedule. I must look at Monday as an opportunity & not as the worst thing that can happen to my balls. 
Sports to me is more entertaining than television, but doing sports has been very inconveniencing, so maybe tomorrow what I need to do is go rent out a locker for my gym clothes so that when am in town & I have some free time, I don't have to drive home with the intention of picking some sports clothes and a racket but end up switching on the televison in my room & lying in bed. 3 hours down the line, I hit my head. 

"shoot, I was supposed to go for a game. Argh, I will go tomorrow."

And tomorrow never comes.

It's time I slept early, cause its better to work during the day, if you know that by eleven no matter what you are going to have to sleep, you will spend your day better, prioritize. When you have no defined sleeping time it simply means, you will always procrastinate.

"what are you telling me..."

"my day ends whenever I want it to, four, five, six in the morning."

And that's when you realize, you spent the whole day in the house, you didn't go say whatssup to your friends, u stood them up, new eating out places have been opened in town with glass swiming pools that you haven't sampled, your friends have started getting new friends cause you never get out of the house, you aren't having fun cause believe you me, holidays are planned spontaneously even, you find the guys at court have missed you.

"where did you go?" 

"am around."

"you used to come seat here and write in court, ama you gave up?"

No, I haven't, I got out of my track a little. It's allowed, I want my life back. I want my f life back! And it starts tonight, sorry girls, am not chatting with you to dawn tonight. It's time I became a little unavailable, I hear that makes one  charming. And raises your 'value', hehe want to see me, make an appointment!

Saturday 14 July 2012

Sorry for what I did on phone.

Some lady psychologist in a very fat complex textbook says that i can trick myself happy. If I force a smile, somehow I will be happy. That happiness is a choice, fueled by good attitude. Do you believe her?

Isn't it easier to wake up and the first thing is bitch about the fact that I am awake to early? Complain Monday is here. That you've been waiting for Friday since Friday night or Monday morning? It's cool. Its cool to be depressed ain't it?

Ask rock stars. Ask Drake, yeah ask Drake. Beautiful album, he is the kinda guy who will make you feel like the worst thing is to get money and fame, but still make it cool. It's the most effective way of showing off, complaining about the finer things in life. No one doubts you when you do that. 

But till when will I listen to these sad rock songs. Come on? Till when. After the album you feel like you want to go over the balcony. 

I admit it, music changes my attitude, but not as well as hunger does. A hungry man is an angry man. But today I wasnt hungry, I was generally bitchy, and when my girl called.

Okay, maybe when I called my girl I was like...

"babe, what's my iCloud password?"

"you didn't give it to me..."

"come on, I did!"

That's me getting angry.

"what's my Apple store password?"

"...I told you you didn't give it to me, I think it's my name maybe"

And I didn't say bye. I just hang up. Yes, her name is usually my password, but don't bother, you don't know the name I use. But that is testimony I love you baby. You being my password is testimony I love you. You know my other passwords babe. That's all am saying. These other people reading don't know what I mean, but you do. Your name is contained in my password, you know what names I use for my other passwords...

But I hang up on you babe, I was annoying, cause I have been having bad attitude lately. I don't know why I think it's cool. To find joy in sadness, sad songs, sad stories, depressing stuff. But I know how it comes about babe.

It comes about when I wake up, I wake up late, I start to hurry, and hurrying rhymes with worrying, I don't find my shoes polished, I find my reserved parking taken, I find out I forgot my wallet in the car and am already at the till, when I have put a shitty song as a ring tone, those stuff and more, negative thoughts and stuff, that's what makes me bitchy, such things inspire bad attitude, makes me perfectly ready to explode and complain. NkT!

I don't want to be that guy, let rock stars be, cash in on bad attitude people, sad depressed people. At least it's them who are most likely to download such songs, too bored to live life, all the time in the world to look for depressing songs. 

But I don't think sad is bad, sad is good, cause its natural, Adele is awesome, I love her songs. But what I think I need to do is not listen to her the whole day. So that after all I am left calling you and complaining about love and what not. Writing sad stuff.

I want to look at the world with happy eyes, good attitude, cause I fire people who have bad attitude, we leave sad people eventually, we assume neutral people, we flock around people with good attitude. 

So baby, no more sad, no more weak energy, I have gone through problems, sorry, no negative attitude, let's try this again...

So baby, no more sad, no more weak energy, I have gone through challenges over the past couple of days, but I got to rise up from the ashes like Bobby does. No losing, always winning, cause it all starts with the mind.

No...am such a bad boyfriend, I didn't try to make my girl laugh today, I just bitched about my password. None of that, it's all; I messed up, and this is an excuse to do something so big for my girl as a sorry. 

Why? Cause it's good to have good attitude, it's good to have energy, it's good to be smiling more than sad, it's good to surround yourself with music and things that give you psych. Cause you don't want your girlfriend to stop calling cause she knows, hey todays he is in a bad mood, but he always is. 

I've messed up babe, I've messed up lots, and am coming off the mess in style like I have always done. Maybe it's bipolar, but who cares, good attitude inspires creativity, I will find my way around it, good attitude doesn't believe in impossible, a way around bipolar is possible. If it doesn't want to die, I will kill it with the fire of energy in me.

I don't really need to work for anything baby, but I do, cause I realize when you aim at something, your attitude is better, am happier, and when am happier I can love you better, don't you like the way I do your...and turn and do your...

Can you feel it? Can you feel good turning to better? Can you feel it? We were to travel the world, are you getting appropriate outfits? to match the white beach? white sand? blue waters? the wall in my apartment we promised we will paint together, I plan on splashing some of the paint on you by the way, we must get overalls, a sexy one for you. Not kiss the cook right now, kiss the painter. After it we can call the actual professional painter to clean the mess we will make.

You fell in love with an energetic guy, a guy that believed he owned the world and no one could convince him that the world doesn't kiss it. You didnt fall in love with a guy that was a neutral spectator of the game of life, you didnt fall in love with a guy who was a critic of the game of life, you feel in love with the player of life. And I have always won, I will always win. 

I know sometimes I will be as sad as f, maybe it's beyond my control, maybe sometimes I will be so depressed, but I know where I will run to when a, depressed. Seat on the sofa, let me lie on your lap, and hug you round your waist to your hips, and your bosom firm on my head. That's where I hide when am sad, but am not going to be sad for long, I must get sad for a second, and shoot out go take over the world for you baby.

Go take over the world for you baby.

Friday 13 July 2012

Good Idea (read at a club)

So we were a full car, three women, two men. A red Mercedes Benz, my friends, I don't drive a red one. I was seated at the co-drivers seat. He was driving, the women were behind. That should tell you something, we were boys.

Hot girls. Hot club, the kind you wonder, okay are these guys freezing me cause am underage, or is it that they don't think I am stinking rich? Or are they freezing me cause am not a foreigner, or am not white? Or the girls aren't beautiful enough? Not dressed right?  That kind of club.

The women got in, they were walking ahead, they were with us. But it was the friends with benefits thing. My pal got in first, I got frozen. Okay. What the f?

"I.d?"

"really, my women just walked in..."

Then I started thinking, maybe I should have had my hands around two women, and acted loud, drunk and rowdy... But it was too late. The women were in, my pal had to take a step back and ask the bouncer wassup. It should tell you about the kind of girls we had with us.

"25 years sorry."

In my mind I was like...but those chics are eighteen. I think. Come on, am way older than her. But I don't negotiate with bouncers, idiot ones. When they act shitty like that they stop being my friends and become the help. And I don't talk to the help.

So...I get my wallet out, I look at him, remove a 200 note half way, I look at his face, I remove another 200 hundred note. I can remove, ten twenty, whatever but am getting in man. And I always do. That's the good thing about mula. It is like water, it takes the shape of anything you put it in. I was in, finally! Dented Wallet, but it's alright.

"wow you found a seat."

"oh, and you already ordered..."

That should tell you something about the women we were with. I watched the hand bags, and the drinks, cause am that guy. The guy who watches that sh as the others run off to the dance floor.

But I don't mind it, I don't mind it at all dammit, I don't think I have ever quite approached any girl directly. The women I've had, I don't know the sh that happened. But that's me? How is it with you? Aren't we old enough, it's easier to change the world around us to fit us than to change ourselves to fit the world. Yeah...

Let the music play, let me watch. I wonder why I bother showing up here. Clubs just inspire sex, the music makes you horny, the sudden increase above normal of women in scanty dresses makes me mad; you want them all but it's gross to have them all, clubs constantly remind me I can't dance, I get bored, and worse still I have to pretend am having a good time. I think it's better sweet cause...

"we toast..."

"yes we toast..."

"Yey, a toast..."

And at that moment when I watch my girl friends so excited and happy they are literally running around the club, screaming, I feel it's okay. And the guys are doing that thing they do when chics bend over in clubs. It's all good, I don't do it, cause I dance better in bed than in clubs. But that's me, bitter sweet at the club.

"what time are we leaving..."

That will always be me who asks.

"Kwani Bob,you not having fun..."

That will always be my friend asking.

"ai, am having fun, a toasssssssst to...!"

And I put my glass up in the air, sing along to the tune of the song playing, do a little man-yell, and they forget I wanted to leave after that routine.

But my drink has more Alvaro than alcohol. It's so diluted I can't get high, cause I don't like hang overs, and I love my liver, kidney, I don't know which one of the two I love more. Hapana, don't hate, my style, it's a free country. Kama wewe unapenda sawa... Aish, who was that complaining. Tutakufukuza hapa astoldbybobby. Usituletee

"boss, ebu... Excuse me..."

That's me moving my lips, the music is too loud, I know the waiter can't hear me, but he is the one who is going to be the one who leans in to hear what am saying, cause when you lean in, you aren't a man.

If you bend your back in a club, you aren't a man. You look as if you are worried about the bill, even if you are not, even thought the three girls you brought have found other three girls who are tanks. But it's alright. Let's party, let's not lean in to talk to the waiter, let the waiter lean in. He leaned in. 

"can i please have ice cubes..."

"We don't serve ice cubes with soft drinks..."

"then you have poor services."

Yes, am also that guy who tells them they have poor services if they hurt my feelings. And the girl seated next to me is usually the girl who will tell the waiter to bring her another Black Ice and share her ice cubes with me. It all works out anyways. I get my ice cubes, o's many I want to throw some of them at the waiter. But, I don't want to cover the bouncers full house rent in one night.

Everyone gets known for something, know this club cause they put both the glasses and the drinks in the fridge, everything is chilled. You know this club for the music,you know that girl for her big a, you know this guy for his long hair, you know that bouncer for his over-friendly nature, we know this lawyer for picking high profile cases, and you will know me for only defending good people, even if it earns me nothing, I will put my own money into defending people who are right, not evil. Good people, and it will be an emotional thing, in that, I either win or beat myself up forever. I hope good people will pay, but if they don't. It's all good, at the end of the day, at my grave, I want to be remembered as the lawyer that only defended people who were good not evil. No, I don't care what other lawyers say about that.

You can take that to the bank, but even if I don't. I will take it to heaven, good deeds over there are a plus, right?

Those are the things I sometimes think about when am trying not to get angry at not knowing some hot girl on the dance floor.

"finish your drink we leave..."

Yes, that's me whose always told that.

"...can I?"

That's one of the girls I usually am with who gulps my half full drink up in a second. They pick there hand bags, there phones, and we head to the parking lot. Most of them can't even walk straight. But we were two men, three women, it wasn't a big deal.

"you drive, am too high..."

And I take the steering wheel. The sitting arrangement is changed. Am on the drivers seat. There is the girl who likes me more than she likes my friend seated at the co-drivers seat. And the other two ladies sandwich my friend on the back seat.

"we get some kuku, and chips at Kenchic?"

That's always from hapo nyuma. 

So we drop by Kenchic, we make noise there. We hold each other inappropriately.  And leave...with our chicken.

"aren't you guys dropping me home."

That's usually the chic at the back, who is usually not as high as the other one.  Was waiting for the kuku perhaps? Am not judging...

"you want to go home, I thought we were to have a party? The three of us..."

And he is upset, but not quite, he can't show it, cause he doesn't want to upset the other girl. I can tell from his voice though. So I turn appropriately to his apartment. I drop him with his girl, I tell him I will be back with his car.

"cool..."

They leave. The car becomes quiet. No more laughter, just talk, hey, the road... Turn right... Turn left... You missed the turn... You didnt ask me to turn early enough... Ahhh f you... No we will wait until someone opens the gate for you... Had fun...bye. Bye. She is nice. No. Yes.

And then we are just the two of us in the car. I would want h but not while driving someone else's car. 

"why are we stopping here?"

"am getting a cab."

She wants to scream, shout, complain, why shouldn't I drop her home, how do I just leave her like that and I dropped the other girl home.

"...you know where that place is."

"yes"

"how much..."

"sawa, twende..."

So the cab guy drives in front, I feel safer when I drive to odd places at night with a cab guy ahead. That way if anyone car-jacked me I would have help. Plus I don't trust these women. My paranoia is on another level. 

So we reach the chics apartment. She lives with the cousin. We start touching in the car. The cab guy is waiting to drive with me back to town. But am about to score, and I didn't know I would, I didn't dance, but stuff happens, nights take unexpected turn. 

Safety, sex, safety, sex...car jackers, sex, car jackers, sex. I weigh my options, I finally tell the cab guy to leave, I will find my way. I pack the car out of the gate. I get into the house cause the cousin is not in. How convenient. How very convenient. We do the did. 

She sees me off. She is worried I will not get my way home. I drive in the cold alone, I missed a turn, the car got into a ditch as I was reversing out of someone's gate. (I took a wrong turn)  You know, the drainage trenches. You don't see them when you reverse. I accelerate for a while. I realize that the wheel is just floating in the air. 

A few matatus stop by, some young guys form a crowd around me, heavily populated area. 

"hapa hakuna breakdown..."

"fanya harambee tutoe gari..."

I make no promises. They form a large crowd in front of the car. They lift it, I reverse, the car jerks and almost hits the kiosks behind. But I break in time. 

I roll down the window kidogo.

"sasa Mimi sina kitu..."

"come on, c you can c mimi ni kijana Kama nyinyi..."

Yes I could go into my wallet remove for them something. But how many we're they, like fifty. If they knew I had money, trust me, they would have helped themselves to everything even the car. Besides, they would have a problem sharing. 20plus people. Guess what would happen if some got some disnt. Fight, fight who? Me. Not fight really, you know what they would do... Young hooligans. At such a neighborhood.

"kwanza I've stolen this car from home..."

"my mum akiamka aikose, by the way ntakuja kujificha tu hapa kwenu..."

So they laughed. But there were still some nyuma asking.

"leta kitu ama uende hasara ya windscreen moja..."

And I told them, if they broke my windscreen, they would be sure I wouldn't move from where I was. Home would be worse hell.

But it was all a lie. 

"next time ubebe pesa,"

"ehh utembeee na pesa."

And I rolled down the window waving saying.

"by the way...thats a good idea." yeah, right!

Tuesday 10 July 2012

BadBoysAren'tTheBestThingThatHasHappenedToEarth

The first time we were to meet I stood her up. But that time I didn't understand how being stood up felt, when you experience a certain kind of pain you are more companionate to people who have experienced it.

The second time we met I told her we were going to the club. She figured she should wear sports clothes. She did. It was a little awkward, people stared at us. Am sure asking who is this? What is she wearing? 

But they gave her a free pass, cause she is beautiful. Very beautiful, brown skin, dark hair, well sized, well mannered, calm and confident. She pulled it off.

Obviously I wasn't going to get some after that date, it wasn't perfect. She was perfect though.

We met a couple of other times.

We had a picnic once.  It was beautiful, I parked chicken, no, it was fish, it was fish most of the times, roasted potatoes, soda cans, and ice cubes in their thermos. We watched the lake with car doors open, stepping on the soft green grass with socks. Music scenting the afternoon air.

We kissed, her lips were inexperienced, like she was a good girl, not used to kissing a lot. Inexperience is sometimes good.

"you know how many times I cried?"

"I had a miscarriage..."

"and my ex-boyfriend wasn't there for me..."

"I felt so sick..."

"and instead of comforting me, he treated me like trash..."

I didn't know how I had turned into this guy who women talk to about other men with. Am usually that guy who other women talk to other women and other men about. But roles had changed.

But when she looks out of the window as she talks. She looks sad, she is beautiful, she is beautifully sad, don't you just feel like you want to care for her. Protect her. She brought out a little man in me at that moment. I didn't change the topic, I let her let it all out.

I didn't try to make her ex look bad, and I look good. It would have been a very productive move to get into her jeans. But sometimes, you turn human, don't you, put your interests aside and listen. 

"_________"

That's me drawing a blank. That's me not knowing what to tell her. That's me watching her hurt and I can't do jerk about it. That's me parking at the side of the road to listen. 

When she was done, we met again. It was another new day, with fresh smoles like the day before didn't happen. She still didn't give it up though.

But then there are these chics who aren't boring, sometimes you want one thing, given. But in addition to wanting that one thing, you find other things. Things like you like hanging out with her. Tara, tara... But chics don't understand that usually. They think men are one minded, kama anataka hiyo, ni hiyo tu anataka. 

So I stuck around, I picked her from her place, and the jam those sides where she lives is not decent jam. It's survival for the fittest. But she always held my arm when those matatu guys kept hooting and I hide in the tinted glass. Her hand calmed me down usually.

You know the way a real lady touches you arm & at that moment you remember, gentlemen are inside the car, hooligans are outside. Yap. 

Her birthday was coming. 

That's when I really planned for it. I got champagne. I got fancy glasses. I got candles. I stole some red roses from a place I will not reveal. Do you know what I did with the roses? I deflowered them, okay, let's say de-petalled them. Piece after piece of the red scented petals all over my bedroom. I got her a pair of shoes, a teddy bear for her to hug when am not around. And stuffed it under the bed in a fancy gift box.

She melted. As in she melted, I know all this romantic whatever is cliche. But that's kinda the point don't you think? Men who like a woman do that routine, don't they. 

It was special to her, cause I think it meant that she now belonged to the class of women who have had rose petals spread all over the room, candles lit, curtains clothes, champagne poured in actual champagne flutes so that the sparkly is neat, the bubbly well seen and the flutes act as speakers for the music the bubbly golden liquid make. She was that kind of girl now. The one who has had that done for her. If I was a girl, I would boast.

"pia wewe have you had the candle, teddy bear routine..."

"ehh,"

"yes"

"yes"

Imagine if you are a girl and you haven't had that? C you will have to lie.

She loved it. That day we did it. I wasn't expecting it. But we did it. And I almost fainted just before we did it. As we did it, in my mind I was thinking. Oh my, am actually doing it. Oh my am actually doing it. Oh my am actually doing it. Oh, my am actually...

And soon after I invited her to a backyard party. That I threw with another girl! Yeah I know, Bobby wtf!
When she was there and I noticed she was the only one who didn't know anyone there but me. I died. But it was too late. I died but it was too late.

Cause here I was, in the hands of another girl. Pretending nothing had happened between us. 

Anyways... She is married now. She made a friend at the party who told me, she is now married to the guy she used to fight with. The one of the miscarriage. And they are happy. But they had been fighting about me.

Maybe that's why she unfriended me on Facebook, maybe that's why she has never called. It took me a year to notice. Back then before her birthday she kept on saying.

"Bobby, I know you only want one thing from me...once you get it you will leave."

I didn't believe I was that guy then. It wasn't in my mind that I was that guy that time. Imagine if you refuse to think about the things you do you can actually be that guy and not realize it. Yeah, you can lie to yourself! Deceive yourself! Trust me, I know now. Think about stuff sometimes, yourself, ama?
I didn't intend to be that kinda guy, but my circumstances made me that guy, simply meaning. I didn't intend to leave her like that, after i was in her jeans, but I left like that.

If I was that guy I was before today, not the angel am trying to be today. I would text her, I would text her. I would stare at her new Facebook photo (very cute kid by the way, as in very very very cute kid by the way) and say add as friend. And you know what would happen if I did that. I would break up a family. The guy will blow it out of proportion. 

"is that that Bobby guy? Why does he have your number?"

I can text her, I can call her, I can send her a message through social media. But I will not, cause she is happy now I figure. But she must be sad about what I did to her. So what I will do is call her friend. And I will explain to her how she was an awesome girl. It's not that she wasn't good enough, it's cause I am screwed up. It's cause sometimes during that time I didn't feel adequate, and I had to surround myself with a crowd of women to feel alright. And she boasted my ego. And I cared for her. And yes I wanted her nini. But I also wanted more.

"why are you telling me all this?" her friend would ask.

"cause I want you to go tell her that, so that all the hurt I caused her by leaving  like that goes away...she doesn't feel like she was inadequate for me, so that she feels like a jewel."

And as her friend who I am seated for coffee with sips her coffee. I will add...

"but don't tell her you met me, cause I don't want to cause her more pain, just make it sound like you knew about how Bobby felt all that time for her, it's just that you never told her."

That way, I will be in her past, a sweet past. That way the thing I did for her birthday will not be a means to an end which was in her jeans. But a cliche that all awesome girls get that at one time.

"how is your kid?" she would be seated with her friends around the table who are all mothers I think.

"he is doing great..."

"look at that couple over there, the young guy with the flowers..."

"yeah, so cute."

"you know once there was this guy called Bobby, he cared for me, it wasn't true love cause true love is with my husband, but he made me feel like I was the best thing that happened to earth those old days"

Aiming at the skies & taking a break at times

The court clerk (the guy in the cheap suit who organises the files in court), is seated next to a lady. The lady is definately out of his league. She is a court clerk. Peharps she is someones else wife.

Ladies are scary, you could be a boss & think for that reason you will park the biggest car at the parking lot. But you never know whether you junior who is a lady is married to a lawyer or a judge, or a business man who likes to spoil his wife with nice cars.

This court clerk looks like those women. That's why she looks & feels better than everyone.
So this case is about a farmer & shares. So its a civil case, that means its complex but not as emotionally draining as a criminal case.

Criminal cases could make you vomit cause sometimes you have to hear about a guy having sexed a sheep & the wife is complaining & sh.

Civil cases are boring cause its mostly about money. And with money comes bank statements & serial numbers & endless documents.

Ask an accountant. I can't even read my statement. They send them to me, I have the papers & I have read them and I still ask like an illiterate person...

"so does this mean I have money or I don't..."

And if you are asking an accountant. They tell you..."

"we have credited your account..."

Who understands those? The credit & debit thingies. Those things are so complex. Then its negative when you don't have money sometimes, its negative also sometimes when you have money but when they allow you credit. Huh? Wtf??

You see why one could easily get bored sitting in a court room during a civil proceedings.

"serial number six zero eight nine..."

"serial number eight, four two nine..."

"hawo ma-surveyors walikuja kuona shamba..."

The clients lawyer goes on & on.

I like being here. Cause ata when am sixty. I will be here. I will be standing & arguing. I will be persuasive & well prepared. I will be a good lawyer. This isn't in my course work. Being here is not a requirement for everyone. But for me it is important. I want to learn being a good lawyer like you learn songs on radio. By osmosis. It just plays at the back of your mind, cause that's how genius becomes. I read sometimes then hang out sometimes in court to cream all the theory with practicals.

But when this guy gets this boring. I walk out & go for squash. Bye.
Sent from my BlackBerry®

Saturday 7 July 2012

Dear cupcake... (sometimes it all cums rushing back)

Cupcake I will do whatever it takes to make sure am okay, and when am okay we are okay. I know things are complicated right now... I know I am not picking up calls when am supposed to, I known I can't hold a conversation as well as I used to. You know I used to hold conversations as well as your nice bra holds your girls.

But life has happened in a way I never thought it would, it's eating up my joy like acid would eat plastic. I am melting away, but this is how you know I will be okay. I am strong, I am beat up to the ground, but am not dead, I haven't given up. That is how you know I am strong.

I know they say when life throws you lemons, you make lemonade. Babe, I've been trying to make that juice but every time I start making it another lemon hits me. 

But aren't I still standing, can you feel it in my words. I am a fighter babe, you partly are to blame. Cause every time I think there is nothing sweet going on. I remember you are here, like you were there...

"babe, am coming tomorrow..."

"you should have told me in advance...nkt"

I was angry. But then you came eventually, cause you understand how things go. It wasn't cool to watch you pay for my dish subscription and sh. And it was worse when you had to remove your purse at the cinema. But it's all good, cause if you are around when things are thick like that, then you are around for the right reasons. That's why immediately after that movie I just had to get you a chocolate gift box. I guess when you maintain your account well you debit card can become your credit card.

But that wasn't even a hard time, uve seen me go through hard times, you had your share at the beginning, you remember when you used to fight with everyone you loved.

I would pause the movie I was watching, and it's not very easy for me to pause movies. I run to the washroom if I have to, I get addicted easily to series. But...

"babe... Babe... Hello..."

"baby it's okay..."

And sometimes I would find myself taping the pillow, rubbing it seated on my sofa talking to you. Imagining the pillow was you and am trying to comfort you. Your tears were my tears baby, I know we found a solution, we decided that those we love, those that have the same blood as we do get a free pass for doing sh to us. We will be there for them no matter what...

Things became easy after that, didn't they babe? Very easy. And the bed business was thorough. We learnt stuff, you got good at stuff, I stopped fearing to touch stuff. Wasn't it nice... Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one&the glass of milk on the side of the bed would topple over slowly and loudly.

A sudden splash, then one relaxed drop of milk after another, one drop, after another until the glass of milk is empty. And we would all be too tired to wipe the mess, too sweaty. But you know you are so girl you clear the mess, after draining me so much.

Remember that party we went to, the guy with the Passat. He wasn't even my friend, or my friends real friend. But he was one of my friends friend. It was nice, with the cigars and sh. I can't believe we actually wore the same colors. You remember that dress I got you. Only the best for my girl, right. Then I went back there and got some other tops. I didn't size you up well with the light blue one. Did I? Don't lie. Maybe I should stick to shoes, I guess am better with that? And bracelets? 

That Passat guy was an idiot. I could tell from the start, I remember that night at that party, at the backyard, the white dogs. The barbecue, is it coming back, the swing we sat on in the night, watching everyone in the gazebo smoking shisha. All we needed was each others lips. I slept on your laps as we talked to everyone. Then after a few drinks you slept on my lap & I tried to make sure you didn't talk to anyone. You know when you are high you can be a bitch.

So the idiot guy couldn't just get us the fcuk out of that place. Come on, it was a few meters to Nakumatt, anyways we all hate that guy cause he slept with one of my friends chic. So we decided to hate them both, I know, it's so immature for us to hate people as a group. 

But it's love, we are all friends, we protect our own even when it's wrong and senseless. It's the same thing I would do for you.

"honey... I don't like her, don't talk to her"

And baby I will not talk to her, cause its you and me. Then the world, I would screw up the world anytime, every time, all for you baby. Screw it up consistently, ati what? Consistently, as in tena na tena na tena. You can be sure I will side with you even when you are wrong, cause I love you, cause its me you and then the world.

I might not be perfect, but am settled. I am as settled as the horse farm, remember I told you I love riding, and we will go riding. I am as settled as the mosquitoes were settled on you as we overlooked the lake. Remember we packed the cars right at the lake, you carried Delmonte and green apples, I was man and brought the meat.

You really loved the white horse, every time I go there and see the white horse, I feel a tear forming, a warm one, not on my eyes, behind my eyes. It's a sensation. I don't know why I don't text you when I feel like that, but I guess it's cause no one knows how to love perfectly.

I love you baby, I love you cupcake, I try to show it, sometimes I show it right, but you interpret it wrong, sometimes I show it wrong, you interpret it right I get some, sometimes I show the love for you right, and you interpret it right, like I have just done. Baby, baby, 

I love you.

Friday 6 July 2012

my sunday sundae

It was Sunday morning, so I woke up a little later than late. Color is navy blue, dark so that I blend with everyone. Navy blue cotton trousers,  not wool trousers. Wool is what you wear from Monday to Friday, the suit material, yeah thats wool, dry cleaning stuff.
Sunday is cotton, you know chinos. Dark blue polo shirt. Smart casual suede fitting blazer, stops exactly where my golden watch starts. Blazer shoulder ends exactly where my shoulders end. I was brought up well, come on!  Loafers without socks,  dark blue velvet ones with a brown sole to go with my brown scarf & brown belt.

I get into the entrance at about 11am. I don't accelerate loudly, I drive slowly so that no one recognizes its me who is driving in that late. Let's call it tiptoeing with Yana tires or is it Micheline, I don't know which ones the car uses.

I have someone in the car. She is my relative, she is in black velvet knee high boots, a green scarf & a light fawn suede jacket that is so girl. We are so neat. But that's not what is important. Yes I like the dress up even though am a guy. But the place I go to on Sunday is a wise place to go.

It's the place where I seat at the pews & ask for stuff. I ask that my life goes well. When the preacher preaches something that I feel touches my life, my heart I hope that the girl I will marry is somewhere seated there. I will marry a church girl when that time comes, not a club girl, not a loose girl, I will marry a church girl. I will build my family around her, wachana na hawa tunacheza nao sahii. 

So I try not to stare at the women, cause I don't want lightening to strike me, it's wrong. It feels even more wrong when am staring at them. People stand, people seat, people sing, I try to actually think of the words am singing, it makes me feel like am making a connection better if am thinking about what I sing, but usually, I day dream. But I try. At least, hey am not perfect.

Between those four walls and so many doors I know the people I will employ will most probably be people I met here. I know the people here aren't perfect, but at least they have there hearts' right. These are people who are most likely not to steal from me, back stub me and what not. So when people walk out I will say hi exchange a little of small talk when the summon ends.

But that's not what brought me here, those are just accessories, the reason why am here is cause I want stuff. I want Bentleys but mostly a driver, I don't like driving, and drivers don't come cheap. But it's not that that I just want I want to make better decisions than the average person, cause everything we do is a decision, and people make better decisions than some people. Like right now, I know am making a better decision than the average person cause I am here. But I know thinking that am better than anyone is one of the things that brought me here...

Cause am a bad person, am even a bad person for thinking am better than everyone else, I do bad things and I want to repent here. You can repent anywhere, but I convince myself that network to heaven is better when you are in this building. But thats just me, so it's sorry, sorry, sorry...

You wouldn't notice cause most of the time am playing with my phone, which is wrong, but if you got into my mind you will know how remorseful I am. I believe true charm is in being an angel, not being a bad boy. 

So I ask for stuff, say sorry for stuff, listen to stuff, so that I can apply them in my life, I can't apply all of them at once, but I try. It's all about making better decisions than the average person. I know I will get everything I want on earth, I already have perfection, okay maybe not quite but hey this is really close to perfect, the life am living. But then people die like rats, then what... 
See, thats another reason why am here. Making better decisions than the average person, or is it He who gets into me when am here that makes me make better decisions than the average person.

Regardless, it gets to lunch time, I've heard something, I feel all fired up. Like I want to help people, like I want to change myself for better, also like I have alot I am not using, and I have a lot of good things coming my way. Bentleys, mansions, pure gold tie tacks, acceptance letter from private yatch clubs, good cross examination skills, whiter eyes, more cheques to buy people stuff, those will drop from the skies & my life will be blissful.

I walk out. I am too hungry to say hi to people, like I was last Sunday & the one before. I get to the car, I reverse making sure I don't hit kids sugar-high from Sunday school. We calmly drive off. I will try again next Sunday, will you?