When your blog doesn't wanna hear it

Hi blog, it's been a while. We have a difficult relationship you and I. It's not even that we do not get along. It is just that we do not have time for each other. We have lost the spark. The honeymoon is long over and we are left...

How have you been? Neglected?  Ooh. That's by me, right?  I do tend to do that. Neglect. Things. People...

Time, time, time, time so bloody deceiving. You can seem to have your whole life ahead of you one minute and it's all gone the next. Tomorrow always seems ready to take up the work that was meant for today, until tomorrow becomes today. Time, you bloody bastard. You are a predator. Preying on people who know not of your wickedness.

I'm a soul in distress. I don't know. I'm a soul. I guess. I wish you could help me. Listening isn't...what I want right now. I want everything to be fine. Could you, I don't know...do that. Make everything better/fine?

It's been a while since I have written to you and yet I come here bearing gifts :-) well wrapped problems. Bear with me. Now you know how God feels. I'm not implying that, you are...God.

I'm a soul...in a lot of distress dear Blog. Where do I go to fix it. My life. To fix my life. Where do I go to fix my life?

God should have given us a timeline for our lives. Timeline written in stone like the Commandments. Specific timelines that we all know of. Not what He is doing right now. Not Him knowing what is going to happen and we ...we walking around groping in the dark.

Why do you do that? Why? No, not you blog. God. Why does God do this to us?

Who are you talking to?

I'm talking to you, my blog?

Are you sure, because I'm not God?

(Slightly irritated) I know, it's just that some questions should be directed to him. I'm having a conversation with two people. You and God... what I can't do that? You are going to limit the number of people I talk to now? What's with you?

I'm cranky too.

You're cranky?

Yes.

You don't talk to me for months and then you come with a conversation you should clearly be having with someone else.  Someone who lives on the 100th floor.

:-)

Don't emoji me.

No. I mean. (Sigh!) You have never had a conversations with two people before?

Have you given someone else your login details?

(Adamantly) No!

Then no I haven't.

(murmurs) Sassy mouth.

What?

Nothing, nothing.

Carry on.

Lost my trail of thought.

So, until next year then?

Goodness, could you give me a minute to gather my thoughts? I've really missed you. :-)

Nah!

What?

Nah I'm not being won over. (Right eyebrow raised), just go on about your blogging.

 It's cool. I'm good. If I can't stand it anymore I will get on my knees.

TIPPING THE SCALE

Courtesy of kimbeach.com

So I have been trying to lose weight like every other woman. Even when am stuffing my face with chocolate muffin I am still trying. Others may consider that moment a fail but I prefer to shut up my cravings by chocking it with a chocolate muffin rather than hushing it with a carrot and have it nag me for eternity.

So...losing weight right...then I begin to ask myself what will be the perfect weight? Because, I don't want to look like a clothes hanger. So what is the perfect weight? I don't know. I start to think; I wasn't happy at 67kg and am not happy at 60 and I probably won't be happy at 50, kgs that is. So I quit my diet.

Another fail, right? Wrong...well maybe...I just chose to pick a different diet. 

Stop eating when you are full and damn it you know that feeling. Distract your mind with other activities like filling in a crossword puzzle or sudoku so you kill time before lunch. Stick to three proper meals a day; breakfast, lunch and supper so that your mind does not justify that chocolate muffin, packet of biscuits, chevda and crisps with the idea 'well you didn't eat lunch.' When you fall hungry between meals feed on fruits and nuts first. When the hunger is gone you are less likely to junk. They are just as filling and everything tastes fantastic when you are hungry anyway. Drink lots of water. Water is filling as well. Finally get some exercise. Walk, run, jump, stretch...just do something and at least three times a week.

Another unconventional thing I do is to watch programs like 'fat doctor' or 'the biggest loser'. It may sound cruel but those stories are the best motivators to ensure you don't let things get that bad. By the way, don't watch these programs as you eat. Once my brunch nearly saw the sun.

You see I don't want to be controlled by the whole weight thing. It is a lifestyle after all, living healthy. Because in essence we just want to feel like we look good with our clothes on and off. But all of it is vanity.

I just hear some of the stories of how people try to shed weight and it is ridiculous and no am never trying raw fish. I don't care even if it is said to be 'exotic'. You give me fish and I will pick up fresh fry.

It never is about losing weight. It is about finding a system that works for you so that you include all that is good for you in your life and avoiding all that is bad without making yourself unhappy in the process. That's what I think anyway, what do I know...am no expert.

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.

PARANOIA

“Make sure nobody sees the depression in your eyes. Ooh, how I wish my nose was smaller. If only I were a little bit lighter. Why did God give me this hair? Life would have been better if I had hair like Asian women. It would be soft and long and it would blow in the wind. I would be prettier if I had that hair. You’re beautiful…sometimes. Remember that mum always says that there are more beautiful women in the world. She thinks you don’t already know that. Your eyes are your best assets. Why are you only beautiful sometimes? I wish I was someone else.”

“Stop looking at me,” looking away from the mirror.

“Get out of your head, you idiot.”

“Look at her, isn’t she beautiful. I wish I was as pretty as her. No, I wish I was pretty but different. I would know how to use my beauty. She always wears so nicely. I hate her. I hate myself. If my boyfriend ended up liking her I guess I would step aside. I would pretend to understand and not be concerned then cry to myself hoping no one hears my sobs.”

“Get out of your head.”

“Why did I dream about him last night? Those emotions felt real. When I saw him walk over to me, finding me in the crowd I tried so much to hide in. He looked for me, wanted me and he gave me a red rose in front of everyone. Why did he do that? In reality he gave me cake. I swear there was no one else in the room and he looked me straight in the eye. Don’t know why there was so much noise. Why did he do that? I wish I could ask him and he tells me.” I remember the day in the swimming pool; he would dive under water and pull my leg. Why did he do that also? I thought we were playing. I tried to blow it off but he did it again and again so I thought we were playing. I laugh and move close to him."

“Don’t come near me!”

“Why did he say that? The look in his eyes, his hand held out like a traffic cop so that he makes sure I don’t come close to him. He really didn’t want me to come close to him and my chest feels tight. Tears sting my eyes. Don’t blink. Why did he push me away like that? Is it that he doesn’t want people to think he likes me? Is he ashamed to like me? I hate him. I hate myself. Sorry, I lied; I like him though I still hate myself. Wish I was someone else.”

“Get out of your head you idiot, let it go that happened a long time ago.”

“Why do I have to rely on you, lord? Why do I have to owe you anything? Life is so hard on your own, but if you rely on someone else, they will own you and they will let you down? I wish I was perfect, and then I won’t need you...or anyone for that matter. Why is it so hard to make friends? It is easy for other people. Why do I feel this way? If only I didn’t exist. I wonder how I would feel. It won’t matter because if I didn’t exist I wouldn’t feel anything. What’s my talent? We are all going to die. No one will miss me when am gone, who cares.”

“Get out of your head you idiot”

“It is a lovely day. It’s like the sun is smiling. The sky is so blue. I love the weather like this. Feel like dancing to this song. I can do this. Life is how you want it to be. He said I have beautiful eyes. Can’t stop smiling. I see a future even though there is nothing there. However, it feels like everything will be okay.”

“Dear God, I should write you a letter sometime. You created me like this. Just like this and I hope you aren’t angry with me because am difficult and stubborn by nature. My faith will waiver because you are asking a lot from me. You are asking me to trust you. I don’t think I can do that. Why did you create me with this temperament? Why was I born with tendencies of depression and suicide? The pleasures of the flesh are so sweet. Sometime I don’t think I’ll make it; to heaven that is. I hate you sometimes, like really hate you sometimes and I blame you a lot for a lot of things that are probably my fault. I wish I could see myself through someone else’s eyes, just to know what I’m working with. Why did you create me like this? Bear with me. Please, don’t send me to hell."

“Get out of your head you, you idiot!”

PUBLIC NOTICE : JE, sagging NI UNGUANA

      Hey you, ooh yes you with your ass hanging out of your trousers like a dog's tongue in a moving car. I notice you and your boys are beginning to think this common place fashion like that poor block in Tusker Project Fame whose pants looked nothing like for Will.i.am. If that was the look they were going for they should have just stopped their journey at the dressing room, but that is another rant for another day.

      Why do you think it is okay for you to sag your pants? I mean I understood the fashion in the 90s but now it is just nasty and by relation you are just nasty.Nobody want to see you nasty draws. Boy, that's your nasty business.

Gwen & Eve

      At one time girls thought that it was okay to let their thongs be seen through their trousers thanks to Gwen Stephanie but didn't all functioning fashion police stations arrest those offenders and put their booties to shame. So dear Mr. man what makes you think that it is okay for you to do the same. Some of your boys even have bigger booties that my girls and I put together and when you walk you got yourself a certain swing that is just...well...for lack of a better word...gay. Now when we see your boxers on top of that, well...nasty.

Bow Wow and Soulja boy

      I get the whole peer pressure thing and Lil'Wayne rocks that style and you may be wondering why it is okay for him and all those other hip hop artists and not for you. Well I get that dilemma and I have no response to that but let me put it this way; it is the same way we don't wear everything displayed on the fashion runways. Some things are well...again for lack of a better word...costumes only meant to be worn on a stage not on the streets.

Lil wayne

      Let me tell you how you come across with your ass in the air like the country's flag. You come across as a loser. Ooh yes! a loser. It's not fashionable and it is definitely not sexy, at all. Through that display of lack of self respect we all can see what stage of adolescence you are in. 

      Just so that am sure that I have covered all my bases, the walking style that comes with your sagging is not appealing. It is clear that you are trying to keep those pants in place so you don't find them on the ground by the time you reach your destination. Here is a tip, don't sag then you can walk properly, perhaps?

      When the habit sticks you and your boys tend to sag anything wearable under the sun, even dress pants. Boy, please! those official pants are the one thing that you shouldn't sag. Not forgetting those skinnies that ya'll have started wearing of late. You look like you are asking for something.

      Sag if you want but je, ni unguana showing us your striped, checked boxers and the way I ain't trying to see them.

Blogaddiction

I have work to do, sweet Lord I have work to do yet I can’t stop blogging. No, not an addict…okay slightly it’s not my fault; it’s all the doing of Single unsingle. It’s lunch time. There is a reason why I’m saying its lunch time and not 1.24pm. It’s because I never want to sacrifice my meals for anything. I mean, I could be on trial for murder and I would still be aware that the muislamu sang, more so then because I’m a stress eater. 

I was reading my friends blog; Lady Unmasked and she mentioned Jackson Biko’s blog so I looked it up. Shit the man can write. He had a guest writer, the Shy narcissist and shit she can write too. So there I am reading works of art and thinking…is it me or is this room a little bigger. I was just a little intimidated. Who the hell am I kidding?

I’m the kind of person who secretly toots my own horn, I mean if I was Bill Gates I probably would never get over myself. One accomplishment and I think I deserve a medal, vacation, the presidency, something. I look at my finished product and think it can’t get any better than this. Now I read Bikozulu and ShyNarcissist, one post each and I think it can get better. God is hilarious; there is always someone better than you. 

Just a thought.

FEEDBACK

You can be seating across from someone and in one of those awkward moments your eyes meet and you smile, more out of embarrassment than out of politeness and they stare at you. I mean they just stare like you did nothing and you know they saw your smile. You didn't like show him your whole dental formula and all but it was a subtle u-spread line across your lips( nothing like the joker of Dark Knight)...and the eyes ooh, the eyes smiled too and yet they just stared. Creep.

You feel so ignored, so hung out to dry in your birthday suit. You start to doubt yourself. "Was I being too forward, is it weird that I smiled, perhaps I have a third eye he can't take his eyes off of?" He's probably sitting there asking himself, "was that third-eye lady smiling at me?" Don't think am paranoid because when you find yourself in that position and in the aftermath you open your eyes like your mentally saying whoa!! Ooh!! you were mentally wondering if your third eye was busy winking at him.

I used to be that girl, that girl who looks at you in a blank stare after you smiled at her. Ooh yes! I was guilty of that crime but when it happened to me then I realized how important it is to connect. Don't get me wrong, I didn't want his number or anything nor was I looking for a conversation. I just wanted a friendly smile back and I would be well on my way. It wasn't really feedback as it was positive reinforcement but still, I wanted him to smile back because I took the effort to smile at him...damn it!

We need it, crave it, will go crazy if we put communication out there and no one is communicating back with us. The reason why I use communication is because I'm talking about anything from a gesture, to an emotion to speech, to writings. We communicate constantly and we want to know what others think, if they agree or disagree and people always agree and disagree. It's human nature, ooh sweet Lord! it's human nature...because I carried out my own experiments and I couldn't fight it. So the next time am sitting in front of you and out of embarrassment I smile at you, you better smile back or I'll will sadistically quote the Joker and ask you "Why so serious?"

It's the basis social networks were built upon. If you wrote a status update and no one commented on it, in a global village, there would be no point at all to it. You won't even feel motivated to write another.

What am trying to say is that you know when you read something or hear something there is a response in your head. That feedback is what I want you to share. Some of the most hilarious jokes were dumb stuff people said. Get that you don't have to think of a response, you already got a response, then communicate it. So the next time you read a blog post, don't just think to yourself, "that's some dumb stuff", tell somebody. Hell, tell the writer...and we promise to say thank you for your input. :-)

FUTILE WAR AGAINST AGE

I don't know but I honestly think when we are born we, at that very tender age, think that we will never get old. We suckle on our mothers breasts thinking that this is it, all that life has to offer. To tell you the truth, it never is a sour deal. She runs about worrying and stuff while we just lay back and feed and sleep and when we want something, cry.

When we are at the age of terrible two's there is only one thing on our very young minds; 'Can I play all day everyday forever?' This goes on like until we are 12 years old. If you never knew it, am telling you that those were the best days of your life. You will never, ever experience such reckless abandon like that again. You didn't realize it then because you had no other experience to compare it to, but now you do. Don't you? And you begin to realize that, that right there was the life. You didn't know much about the world and how it can be such a terrible place to live in. Ignorance is bliss, isn't it?

At 13 years of age all teenagers eat the forbidden fruit of the garden of Eden and realize that they were naked. You cover up your so called imperfections and develop a shyness. Everything in the world and everyone all of a sudden becomes very intimidating. You find it hard to look anyone in the eye. Hell, you find it hard to look your self in the eye. Ladies and gentlemen you better recognize this stage in your lives because this is when it all goes down, down, down, down- u know like that old song; moving way too fast or much too slow ohohoh. Sorry, I was lost when I started saying down hihi. From this stage it is just a treacherous journey to hell and back and to hell again and back. You think you are grown up and you know all there is to know about life and whatever you don't you think that you will just figure it out. But you aren't grown up, are you? And you have no idea what the hell you are doing and where you are going, do you? You never realize this until you are all grown up and living with the foolish, foolish mistakes that you already made.

The thing is, from age 13 you think that you will never end up like your parents. You have all this energy to take on the world and all its conditioned ways. I guess that is why they call it youthful energy. You take the world head on and fight hard and fearlessly but the world has been here longer and it is very resilient. You don't even notice that you have began to get tired. You are still drunk on that youthful energy and to you every blow is just a minor set back and you will be on your feet in no time and you probably are. I'll tell you a secret I know you hadn't yet figured out. That blow that you thought was just a minor set back was busy chipping away at your youthful energy and the frequency of those blows will eventually wear you down.

By the time you dive into the job market, you are tired. Those conditioned ways of the world that you thought made your parents zombies begin to make sense to you and for some unknown reason they begin to appeal to you. Life is so hard and such a tiresome and draining experience that you begin to accept the ways of the world. You hate yourself for folding but you are tired and all you want is for the good life to start and for the hardships to end. By the time you get married, my friend, you would have completely lost the war to age. If it makes you feel any better those that went before you lost that same battle and those behind you are doomed to that same fate.

I remeber you

I remember the first day I met you. Not the details but I remember meeting you. I remember talking to you and liking you. I remember not wanting the day to end, not wanting to say goodbye, not wanting to leave you. I just wanted you to know that I remember.

When I reminisce about those times I realize that I may have given you the wrong impression. I realize that I may have made you feel like you meant nothing to me; like you were nothing more than a passing fancy. You were a fancy, that I assure you but you did not pass. I just wanted you to know that.

The reason why I remember you is because I guess you left a lasting impression. Never have I remembered a dude's full names like this before or how he looked. There are always things I end up forgetting. Not because I want to but...I don't know. My brother calls it selective memory.

I remember never wanting to hurt you. I would have liked to have protected you...from pain I guess or...I don't know...you just made me feel this way. You made me feel like a woman; kind, calm, tender, sensitive, and protective. I just wanted you to know how much emotions you evoked in me. I know I said nothing, showed nothing and did nothing but I need you to know that I did not feel nothing; not for you anyway.

I want you to know that when I think of you I am overcome by guilt. You made me feel like a bad person. When you did all you could to reach out to me and all I did was turn away. When you showed me your heart and I just closed my eyes. I remember when you sent your friend to look for me so that when he found me you could call and we could talk on the phone. Do you remember? Well, I remember, I have never been able to forget. It's the source of my guilt. That one memory makes me feel so bad inside that I want to forget. I had so much nothing to do that I did not give you the time of day. It wasn't you, the problem, it's me. I was going through stuff and I felt like I had nothing to offer you. And when I feel inadequate I shut down. When you wrote to me that you get that I don't like you the way you like me well, I hated myself for being in that position. It wasn't that I did not like you, it's just that I...like I said, was going through...stuff.

I don't know what I miss from you. I don't know if it was the attention you gave me or the love you felt for me, if indeed that was what you felt or was it that one moment that we spoke. That one conversation that made me wish we were somewhere else so that we could waste the day wraped in each others lives. Perhaps it was the feelings I felt from that one conversation; the feeling of being calm and tender and wanting you to take care and protect me. Maybe I don't miss you at all, maybe it's the guilt that makes me think that I miss you. I really don't know exactly what this is. I just know that sometimes I miss you and alot of times I think of you and how life could have been had I not let you go.

I just wanted...needed you to know that I remember you, that I have never forgotten and that I doubt I will ever forget you.

MY VERSION OF "THE ONE"

So I am a hopeless romantic...okay fine not hopeless but I love a good love story. Ooh come on, don't act like you didn't know. You know that whole thing about show me your friends and I'll show you your character? My friends, hopeless romantics. Sweet Jesus, all of them! Some of them try to act like they ain't but I know acting. My poker face is really good when I put my mind to it and bluffing huh! am an artist. You should see my work.

On occasion, a lot of occasions, I do have my fantasies as to what my future husband will be. Yes, I do think of my future husband. No matter what I say or do am still a girl and yes I have planned my wedding a million times in my head-imagined every detail. By the way, my idea of an ideal guy changes with every knowledge I gain about life, men, women and myself. Right now I feel your ideal man should be someone you can accept. The whole thing about you can't change a man got me thinking. If that is the case then we should pick someone  we won't want to change; someone we can accept. I'm talking to all you women who marry Mr. Potential. You think that with a little spit and polish you can turn that rugged fellow into a gem-not. I know we say that love is blind and by the time you open your eyes, you're stuck with someone with the most gruesome of habits. But, is love really blind or do we chose to close our eyes? It feels so good that you just don't want to see anything that'll make you think otherwise.

You will click. It won't feel like work being around him. You won't have to wonder what to say during those awkward silence moments. You'll just be. I kinda figured this out a long time ago but 'The Switch' and 'Bad Teacher' made me a believer in my own theory (okay, so it ain't my theory but hey.) There are people you feel were just created for you; friends that were put on the earth to share all your good and bad moments and men designed for you to date. They get your jokes and your conversations and you don't need to pretend to be anybody else. It's like you are cut from the same cloth...wait, why does that sound like incest? You get what I mean. You won't have to pretend to love football or rugby so that you have something in common. There won't be any of that unnecessary pressure.

He'll come when you are ready for him. I'm sure many people will find this debatable. The most annoying habit couplings have is to always try and get their single friends hooked. Everyone and I mean everyone is a potential for you. Then they give you all this pressure making you feel like you age twice as fast now that you are single and this is it, there will be no other offers ever in your life. But, it's never that serious if you don't want to date a guy don't, at least don't do it for the wrong reasons. Make sure you are not being rigid/reserved/conservative for rigid/reserved/conservative sake. You don't want to end up being the road block on your own path.

If you haven't noticed my ideal will not sweep me off my feet and carry me into the sunset. Perhaps because am above 12 years or perhaps because am talking about real life and not a T.V. drama...perhaps?

You are fuckin' perfect to me

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ocDlOD1Hw9k

When I was a child, one of my aunties told me that I was going to grow up to be a very beautiful girl, that she could see it. I can't tell you if she meant it or not but I can tell you then is when I started to love myself. It isn't that I didn't love myself before but I hadn't thought of myself like that. Back then I was a tomboy and I really didn't give a hoot. After that comment I started thinking of myself as beautiful, then I started seeing what she was talking about :-). My head also grew several inches larger at around that period but that's beside the point.

So growing up I thought I was beautiful but I also thought that there were some people more beautiful than me. My mother in her desire to ground me affirmed for me that INDEED there were people more beautiful than me (incase that realization had passed me). I thought she was simply evil to do everything in her power to remove me from my cloud. By teenagehood I had this love-hate relationship with myself. I swear, honest to God, there were days I grew more beautiful in the night, honest and there were some days...well my beauty regressed.

I had to learn so many lessons about beauty-bitter/sweet-which helped me be the person I am today. Like yes, there are women more prettier than me and there always will be. The world is designed in such a way that you will always have competition in everything you do...everything! You can hate the fact that you will never be the best all the time or you can do what I have decided to do, enjoy it when it is my turn and accept it when it's over.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Wait...listen...cliché or not it really is. It sounds so common knowledge but it is a very valid lesson that everyone needs to know, like really internalize. Think about it, there are men you think are handsome and others you don't. Hey, it's funny how sometimes the guys you think aren't all that are the ones your friends find irresistible. I do everything in my power to try and support my friends except agree with them that that guy is a looker. So when you ask me if that dude is hot and I say, "Well it depends on whose eyes we are using." Leave it alone.

Beauty isn't perfection. Okay, sometimes it is but other times beauty is in imperfections. You can have a croocked nose and it still works. Why else would someone tell you that,"I think you are beautiful but you would look even better if you had a nose job." The fact that they think you are beautiful with that nose is a sign that it works. We all wish we could change ourselves because we have been brain washed into thinking that beauty looks a certain way. If we all had money we would have had surgery. Okay, let me be honest, It isn't the money that is holding me back, it's the image of Jocyln Wildenstein (google her). She is the best example to accept what God gave you.

People think you are beautiful when you think you are beautiful. So think you are beautiful. I always try to think am something even when I feel horrible. However, my secret is to avoid hanging around exceptionally beautiful girls because of reasons I have given on this blog.

The biggest lesson I think that I have learnt that is the most important is that BEAUTY DOESN'T MATTER. I mean; you look the same whether you feel beautiful or not, men still hit on you whether you do everything in your power to impress them or not and life still moves on-you will eat, sleep, laugh, cry, succeed or fail. Besides, in Kenya most ugly chics are either married or successful.

I stopped caring about how I look or rather I stopped caring about how I looked to other people. Life is so much easier when you have no one to impress and am all about making life easier. Besides am fuckin' perfect to me.

Just not that into you...

"Hi L, what's up?"

"Hi, am good, you?" Avoiding eye contact. Looking to my right then my left. Stretching. Trying to appear bored with life or tired. Fidgeting with my phone-sending an imaginary message.Fake smile. "So are you good, exams ziko karibu, are you ready?" Briefly maintaining eye contact. Trying to look interested in the answer.

"Argh! I hate exams lakini niko poa. You are always busy when I see you, sometime you should slow down."

"Mmh." fake smile (no teeth). "I'll try."

"You know I like you." Trying to look deep into my eyes.

Fake smile, "Ai!! lets not start this." Looking away. "Aren't you tired of telling me stuff like that." Looking at him seriously. Raising my right eyebrow.

"No, and I will keep saying it until you accept. Si you give a man a chance? I"ll keep saying it. All am asking for is a chance to be with you."

"Ai!!" Pretending to lenga that vibe, no, actually lengaring that vibe. I look at this man standing before me and wonder if he thinks am a fool or that I live in a tunnel and don't know that he has an on and off girlfriend. 

"Hauna kazi ya kufanya?"

"Niko nayo lakini si mob."

"Mmh." I have a lot of work (lie) I don't even know if I will ever finish (exaggeration). "Si you go so that I can work." He throws me an annoyed look. "Don't look at me like that, you know that I won't do anything if I let you stay here with me." Mentally, rolling my eyes. "Enda," pretending to be playful.

As I watch this man...boy walking away I think to myself, 'God I wish I never met you...at all.' He probably is a good guy...(i really don't think so) but he isn't my type. I can't even imagine myself his woman, no, really, I can't fathom that image. There are men you are attracted to and are bad for you, and there are those who you aren't attracted to but given the chance you can see yourself with them and there are those who you aren't attracted to and can't imagine yourself with. I can imagine him a friend...a long distance friend.

I busy myself trying to minimize the immense irritation that he makes me feel. Guys have that annoying habit; shooting their arrows without a bulls eye. It's so freaking annoying. Think of it, so what if things work out, what if the girl ends up liking you and wanting to see where it goes, what then? If I liked a guy and it turns out he was just holding his arms out hoping to catch something...anything and then I landed and he acts like that was the plan, I'll ditch him. As I picture this scenario, am thinking of another dude in place of this guy because it can never be a dream let alone reality.