Generation Y ideal

Photo from www.good.co/blog/2013/05/20/

There was a day in one of my classes when this girl was arguing with the rest of the class about age. Well, it was her and her friend. The thing is we were saying that no one will give you a million dollar business deal to handle when you are in your twenties and the ink hasn't yet dried on your certificate. What we meant is that wisdom and experience comes with age but she wouldn't let up. She thought that we were looking down on ourselves. I wanted to argue but I procrastinated my comments until the argument ended. Fine, I just didn't feel like arguing. I don't know, she was hopeful and mind-numbing naive in my view.

The whole time she would defend her theory I just remembered this article I read on facebook...yes facebook; no typing error. Some link. It was stating the reasons why generation Y will be disappointed and it basically said that we live our lives with some type of entitlement. When we were young we were told that we are special and we can be and do anything we want if we put our minds to it. So we all think that we will end up being C.E.Os and wealthy. But, that's not reality, some will be managers, simple ordinary employees and some blue collar job workers and many won't be rich.  Now am a generation Y member so I also think that I won't be a blue collar worker. I'll start as an ordinary employee and work my way to the top. However am not delusional. Life has persistently shown me that things will never happen in the exact same way I envisioned it and most times not at all. For that reason I decided to not be rigid in my dreaming. If it's God's will for me to end up...wherever I end up and am happy even though am not successful according to society's standards then I will accept my fate.

 In primary school some teacher kept on stressing on how we need to leave a legacy like Michael Jackson, Steve Jobs, Bill gates, Oprah, Jerry Springer yes Jerry Springer, Obama as well...how could I forget Obama, yawa! Anyway, I remember thinking that the world has billions of people living in it every year at one given time and not everyone has a legacy. It is just not probable. I reached university and one of my lecturers said lets be reasonable. Some of you will score A in my class most B and C and a few D. It sounded bad but he was stating the truth. Someone has to be first and someone has to be last. Someone has to be the one loaning banks money and someone has to be the one accepting aid from NGO's. It is just sad reality, not negativity.

I do believe that if you work hard and smart and do your level best and not con anyone God will reward you with success. But, to think that just because you are hardworking then everything will go your way and people will just call you for opportunities to prove yourself is naive. Beyonce herself said that sometimes you work hard and still lose. I wouldn't give you that business deal because am sure when you mess up, you'll expect me to understand that you are human and things go wrong. However, experienced people know that when it comes to millions no one thinks mistake but sabotage.

Old wounds

Listening to Six degrees of separation by the Script on replay. Between the feelings of worthlessness because of work and the feelings of loneliness because of a conversation with a friend-stranger am dancing on the edge of depression.

Only with human beings can you find yourself crying over spilled milk when the carton wasn't even yours to begin with and he was never mine. Falling for someone who would never fall for you is one of life's ten plagues of misery. We will all pay our dues with tears and pieces of our soul.

There's a slight tightness in my chest. It is faint. Example of a heart ache but very dull. Feels like a ripple of pain through my body. That's what old wounds touched feel like.

Fake smiles and pleasantries am not sure I mean. "That name sounds lovely"...i don't think so. And, not in a bad way. I really don't think that name is all that lovely. It's a common name, heard it before. The only reason I said that was to be polite. I'm not bitter, not even close. Won't even want him now. Has something to do with wanting a train set from your parents when you are thirty. It's time has passed. I just feel unhappy; wronged by life or at least...left behind.

Switched to Hater by Miranda Brooke although I din't get the player because I didn't get anything at all. But he's in love and am alone and it's still not fair. I don't know her but I do know that I already don't like her.

She's probably an amazing woman. Light skinned. Skinny with a flat belly and measurable hips. And, she's probably a little angel wanting nothing but happiness for every tormented soul in the world.

No more nice things.

I'm making myself sick.

Talking about these feelings would probably make me seem human but I can't help but wonder if am too exposed. God knows that writing about it isn't the same as talking about it and that's why this is easier for me.

Such moments highlight everything going wrong or stagnating in my life. Makes everything seem so much worse. Feeling like a failure. I ain't, I know...just saying I feel like one. Hopeless even.

Some conversations should be had after a blunt...if i smoked or at least three shots of tequila rose. Such situations could damped the spirits of someone who just won the lottery. All you wanted to do was win and when they handed you the cheque you Kemboi'ed the person handing it to you (I smiled when i said Kemboi'ed) anyway then he/she texts, calls or if you are unlucky you run into them in the streets then shit hits the fan.

Anyway. it is a feeling like any other and it will pass like Nairobi winter this sunny day.

Ramblings, don't bother reading :-)

Sitting in the office in front of a computer. I'm not bored, at all in fact I feel good. I just don't want to do anything constructive. I just feel sort of out of it today. My stomach is aching. Feels like cramps in the horizon. I hate period pains. I wish I never had them at all. They hurt. They really hurt. I'm so unhappy when they come. Dreading the moment.

Today I feel sure of myself. I don't feel like I don't belong, you know? I feel comfortable in my skin. A little lost but I have felt a little lost ever since my entry into the world. 

A friend of mine this morning said something that shocked me. She said that I intimidated her when she first met me. She intimidated me when I first met her! I was so shocked. She's social and seems to get along with everyone. I'm an introvert with an overly polite condition. To tell you the truth it is only because I'm a very nervous person. Very.

I know that I think that am not social and I think I know that my actions confuse everyone else. Me as well to tell you the truth. This is why I feel misunderstood. When am upset and everyone else is happy I blow off my sadness so that I can accommodate those around me. Then those around me will not know that something upset me.

Sometimes I leave the office tired but when I get home am all over the place like fly. Why do I do that?

Writing even when you have nothing to write about is supposed to help you develop writing skills. I have nothing to write about. What about this, you might say? My mind will never stop thinking. I'm just thinking on paper. That last line sounds clever. Smiling slightly. Mentally patting myself on my back.

PAINTED CRACKS IN THE WALL

Photo from thatitaliangirl.blogspot.com

It is tying a scarf on your head to conceal your now undone hair. It is pairing a bright new t-shirt with old faded jeans. It is not raising your hands to hide your unshaven armpits. It is putting a table cloth over a worn out table or dressing your chairs with well decorated cloths to veil worn out cushions. It is wearing an ill-fitting bra over a beautiful blouse, tired inner wear over figure hugging jeans or torn boxers over a three piece suit. It is make up over a black eye, a broken heart behind a smile. Insinuated diet at 1 pm. Painted cracks in the wall.

Like government buildings that are painted afresh instead of repairs and replacements our lives are made of well disguised truths. Things you keep to yourself. Not everyone has to know. Dirty linen, they say and the embarrassing type.

It is no wonder we are all self conscious. Constantly on the defense. He smiled, approached, asked and now you are dating but he smiled because he liked what he saw. Your painted nails even though there is a slight chip at the corner of your left pinky, your sexy outfit even though there is a button missing around the belly button behind the huge belt and undone stitches patched together with luminous green thread that you would have to look intently to see. It was the only thread in the house. So you sit anxiously through your coffee date knowing that your perfect is anything but.

Have you ever complimented someone on their outfit and they thanked you in disbelief, as if they are asking "really, this outfit does it for you?" The wearer of the shoe knows where it pinches. They probably limp from their gate to the house at the end of the day due to the pain. But, they will never tell you. Walking across the street as if modeling Dolce and Gabanna designers.

The worst part is that we all know when it is time to let go of a pair of boxers, shoes, trousers, jeans, hairstyle even relationships and jobs that aren't doing it for us anymore; whose shell life has expired but where is the money? And, sometimes because we don't really see ourselves we think that it can go...one...more...mile.

Until that fateful day when...no one actually dies. Well, except you. A horrible social death. When you fall and the man you fancy hands you your shoe and he gets a glimpse of the hole, or you forget and take off your sweater revealing the gap the absent button has left or in your absentmindedness you raise your hand to wave allowing your wolverine armpits to air in the wind.

When that fateful day comes you will shave after the embarrassment...never before. You will look for a button and mend the hole or you will put all your worn out clothes and shoes in a paper bag in wait for the guy who takes them off your hands and gives you buckets in their place. But, by then it will be too late; the paint would have chipped and the crack exposed.

I pray that when you finally see the cracks on my wall you pardon me. Because, it is not possible for any one of us to go through life with out indecent exposure. So I ask that you pardon me, fight the temptation to think less of me, laugh in private, don't tell the rest of the world just Vatican City( the smallest state in the world) and lets never speak of the incident. EVER.

SUPERIORITY COMPLEX

Image from grantjkidney.com

I hate important people and people who feel important. Fine hate is a strong word, so when I write hate I mean that I really, really really don't like. And, by the way important people and people who feel important aren't always the same.

I can't stand their sense of significance. I detest how their walk is so much stronger and vigorous and looks cooler even when they aren't cat-walking or strutting their stuff.

I hate how they always smell special, like their sweat doesn't stink and if it did, it would be raspberry or something exotic not found in Kenya. I am disgusted with how we forget to breathe around them, lose our words and senses when they look at us expectant. Struggling to sound intelligent even when we know, at the back of our minds that they say the dumbest things. And, how we are almost crawling underneath them in a bid to humble ourselves before them.

I hate how everyone makes a fuss when they are pissed off, or sad or happy. It is as if we don't feel the same emotions but nooo because they are important people it is so much deeper, more intense then us ordinary folks.

I can't stand how we easily and willingly forget how they came from nothing, nothing to what we "semi-worship" now. Their past seems so much like their past and ours a distant present that we can't help but carry with us.

I don't like how we try to profess and demonstate our loyalty to the person as if there are benefits to it. Wait. There are, aren't they? But, those benefits are ordinary material things. Things that you could do without, have been doing without but now you can't even imagine how you survived without. We desperately seek their approval and even when we didn't at first they speak to us in such a manner that we start.

I wish we were equal. I know we are but the human mind does this thing where it gets so amazed and moved by another person's creation or progress that...I don't know. It starts off as appreciation of someone's creativity, efforts and hard work then it transforms into something else. And, the funny thing is that the guys who do things for themselves are more adored than those who do things for others: politicians, lawyers, doctors, musicians, actors, business people etc...it is a career, it is always a career before an avenue to help others.

It is the confidence. Now am convinced. It is the confidence. Success does that, you know? Someone could just be shooting milk out of his nose and we say WOW!! with that surprised look on our faces and our eyebrows raised in amazement and within two days the milk breather guy walks around like "I'm the ish."

I don't really hate important people just how they makes us act like goons around them. I do promise to try and not be intimidated by them but I can't promise that when they look at me expectant I won't lose my words and senses.

NEGATIVITY AND EXPECTATIONS

I can't seem to stay positive. I try, God knows I try but for some reason when things go wrong I cannot see beyond my nose. Today, in my head, I was saying blaa blaa blaa  so that I would stop thinking so negatively. Didn't work.

I have no idea how others do it. I remember reading a quote of sorts at one time. It said, that a person cannot see other people's turmoils when their tooth is aching. And, I remember thinking it is just one tooth; one single tooth and when it aches you cannot see past the pain. So every time I get negative and focus on my problems; I mean magnify my problems (that's more the truth) that quote pops in my head.

The most weird thing is, a part of me knows that everything will be alright; a part of me trusts that God will solve all my problems but I cannot find it in me to translate my knowledge into feelings. My life journey has taught me that nothing lasts; that joy will come and go same as pain or suffering even anger. Yet, I worry, I fuss.

Expectation is not your friend, it's not mine. Every time I raise my expectations I get disappointed. Even the notion of common sense is expectation. It is not common sense that you flash the toilet after you use it: people need to be told that yes, every time not every other time. Never expect, it is what creates unrealistic goals, wants, 'needs'. What happens in my mind is, I imagine a possible outcome and because the mind is a powerful tool, it feels real and so I base more expectations on my imagined future. So not cool.

I won't promise to stay positive because I found out that promises are spiritually binding and besides that creates expectations. This isn't even about declaring that I will try next time. I just wanted to rant. :-)

DOUBLE STANDARDS

People partying
Image from insidenairobi.xemzi.com

Every time I read about the comments men make about how women dress for a night out I feel judgement oozing through the words. They talk about red lipstick and short figure hugging outfits complete with high heels and for some reason as you read those comments you feel the need to ask so what about it?

It's not what you say but how you say it and I can't describe to you how they say it. I just know that I don't like it. With one breathe, glance he will be complimenting you and insult you. Their faces tell stories of pleasure and disgust and I am tempted to slap the hypocrisy out their genetic make-up.

Have you ever worn those figure-hugging outfits on your way out late at night? Clearly am taking about the women but if you are a guy and you have...the thought shocks me so much that I don't have a clever statement to complete that dis. Anyway if you have perhaps you will identify. The song 'Chokoza' by Avril and Marya rings in your head. As you slip into that little outfit, you feel psyched because you know that you will get a lot of attention in that little number plus you think you look good so you feel good. In the comforts of your home or of that of your friends you become ignorant of the icy breeze that awaits you the minute you step out. The red lipstick is because it pops. I mean it's one of those nights out, you aren't supposed to be subtle in your demand for attention so red it is, or purple or pink. The heels compliment the dress and even though you know at the back of your mind that you will struggle and trip and possibly fall and it won't be a pretty sight, you think of the models and actresses and how they wouldn't wear that dress with those flats. There, you have reasoned your way into those heals or so you think you did...reason, I mean.

You are set. Out into the world you go, walking, stumbling your hyper-self into the club as you constantly adjust your dress pulling it up to cover the cleavage a bit and down to cover the thighs a bit. And, in case you are wondering, at the back of your mind you did feel that dress was a size not yours. But, you shrugged it off. A part of you lied to you that you could handle it, so relax it's not your fault.

They look, ooh they look as you pass-by. The men that is, looking at you as you strut your stuff across the floor oblivious to the meticulous calculations that designed that walk and your constant fears of tripping and falling that haunt the back of your mind. Both of you love the feeling...of his gaze on you. But, you can pretend you don't, because I know the truth so am telling you, not asking.

You should know, ladies that he likes what he sees. He likes your public disregard of decency, he likes the raunchy thoughts that are running through his mind this night under the witness of the moon and those comments and glances are of pleasure but come tomorrow morning, under the judging sun these feelings will be overtaken by guilt and overbearing sense of morality. Disgust comes in the morning, hand in hand with the double standards. Nkt.

THE FIRST DAY

First day of school
Image from www.unitedwaytriangle.org

It's official, I hate introductions. "Hi, my name is Linda and you are? Aah, nice to meet you. Then you smile, and have you noticed that a polite smile puts strain on your mouth? Within minutes you are there exercising your jaw and even after you have stopped smiling you sort of feel like you still are. Introductions are awkward, that is why blind dates suck. So why was I introducing myself to people if I completely hate it?

Today is my first day as an intern at a media house. I'm I happy? No, more like nervous. My heart's racing and I keep wishing there was a manual somewhere that directed my every move. Is the experience bad? Not really, nothing much has happened seeing as its the first day.

On your first day of school or work you walk through the door for the first time and you feel foreign: the environment feels foreign to you and even your own body feels foreign to you. It is weird, like you were yourself when you walked out the door of your house but in new territory you feel like your experiencing yourself for the first time. And, I felt different.

Lucky for me, I am doing my internship with a friend so...not so scary but we were discussing in the hallway how powerless we feel. There is no difference between us and a newly born baby; on our first day we are anxious and need someone to hold our hands; caught between holding on to past comforts and dealing with the present challenges. The only difference between us and that newly born baby is that, the baby feels no embarrassment.

My friend and I walk around the office trying to look like we have a sense of purpose perhaps oblivious to our close to tip-toe walk as we are afraid to draw the attention of straying eyes. I notice how anxious I get when I walk into a room and some people raise their heads from behind their monitors to eye me to my seat and for a second I wish I were Stuart Little.

The day is over and am heading home. My first day is done and I exhale in relief. The worst is over right? Plus it wasn't so bad. Tomorrow I will feel more like myself and things will get better...I hope.

AWAKE

Hi blog, how have you been? I know that it has been a while. Feeling like a vampire who has been asleep for centuries. A little taste of blood and a fresh wave of air into my lungs and I feel like it is morning for the first time in months.

I have been asleep all this time. When I closed my eyes, it felt like any ordinary night and I thought that I would sleep for six hours as usual and wake up in the morning feeling refreshed and ready for the day. But, that wasn't the case. I closed my eyes and went to sleep and then in my sleep I went to sleep again and so you see, for several months I have been in deep slumber.

It's ironic you now, I being a writer of sorts who chose to study for a degree in print media being afraid of words; being afraid to express myself. But enough of that, I am awake now and I will hit the ground running. No more wasting time. Like MJ am declaring this is it. However, I hope that doesn't mean that I will kick the bucket like he did, that isn't the 'it' am talking about.

You might be wondering where I have been and what I have been doing with my time and perhaps you deserve an explanation but am not going to give you one. There are certain stories that just shouldn't be told. Let ignorance be bliss this time. We can just celebrate the fact that am back. For how long you ask? I don't know maybe just for this moment or forever, we can't predict the future and I can't speak for sure so lets take every moment as it comes. Lets focus on nothing else but now. Nothing else matters but the next few words that I punch on my keyboard. I won't worry about tomorrow, or a few seconds from now. I'll focus all my energy on finishing this sentence. One step at a time. One word at a time.

Like I said, hitting the ground running. Made my list of priorities and now the juggling begins. By the way, I hope to find purpose in this new journey am embarking on. I have realized how empty life is without it. How pointless everything is when you don't know why.