Wry faces and advice

That was rough, thing to do now is try and forget......I guess I didn't quite mean that. It's not a thing to forget, maybe not a thing you want to forget. Life is like that sometimes. Now and then for no good reason a man can figure out, life will just haul him off and knock him flat, slam him against the ground so hard it seems like all his insides is busted.
But its not always like that. A lot of it is mighty fine, and you can afford to waste the good part fretting about the bad. That makes it all bad. Sure you know, saying it is one thing, feeling it is another. But I'll tell you a trick that is something of a big help. When you starting looking around for something good to take place of the bad, as a general rule you will find it.

Going away

Am on a bus heading to the coast sitting with a not so interesting dude plus he's got dreads and looks like he's gon steal from and give me the face. Sleep ain't coming soon so I got to sit it out and maybe pen down some of my thoughts.

The music is good, it's Country, Kenny Rodgers to be precise.

It's being a while since my last visit to the big city and as weird as it seems, I did miss the traffic. Not so weird considering where am headed to right now, Lamu. Am actually shocked that culture shock didn't ice my balls or at least a good smack across my face. I kinda had a theory that culture shock is a creation of people afraid of change. Am yet to be proven otherwise so I guess my theory still stands, at least for now.

Anyway, I was talking about my few days in the city. It's being great I must admit but I didn't get to meet as many people as I wanted to. That's on me considering am an accountant by profession, you would think time management would be a piece of cake. I can blame me and factor in a few extra hurdles, like I know a lil too many people, alcohol availability (burnt a few grand on that too) , and the fact that I only had two weekends to see everyone. Come to think of it, am actually good with time management. I gotta take the good though, like my niece is gon be causing ripples in about 16 years. That lil goddess will be making balls itch and mummy and daddy will have to get used to sleepless nights. She's hot but I should know, it runs in the family. I ain't being cocky but look at me, it's in the genes.

Yeah, Nairobi has not changed much. Same ol' same ol',you sleep you don't eat. Drinking sprees and all but we have a new star on the uniform. Beautiful women dancing on the tables at the local,and making out!! That's just hot! Considering I didn't know this side of these hotties, it's safe to say they really tickled my balls. If you're reading this,BIG UP to ya!

Had a sit down with my pops too. If this man knew how workable his solutions are, he could make a milli out of talking. On the other hand, if he shared his wisdom and sound advice with every Tom, Dick and Harry, we wouldn't stand out from the rest. Plus he wraps it with a lil humor before serving it! Dope me peeps, DOPE!!
Homz rocking like stone ain't changed a bit. Maybe the means changed but the end remains. Down at the house of swag aka The place,aka the sitting room. That's a really cool place to hang if you ask me.
One of the most important man in my life assured me of his support on everything I do. Top that with some pointers and we've got a winner. Considering he lived in Lamu at some point, I'd say U. Matindi just hit it right.

Lets wrap it up and say, family and friends are the reason why I want to make it. Their support is my drive, and their abscence is my weakness. Being in this far away land makes me miss them and I don't want to do it for nothing. I wanna make them proud and not miss em too much.

It's going to be a while now, but the few days are gon do for now. Peace out.

Chosing words

The first time she broke his little heart, he wrapped it real nice, placed a ribbon on it and sent it to heaven. He had heard that's where broken hearts go. For healing that is. After a couple of months, a year or so, he got his heart back. He locked it up and threw away the key.

He was bored one Monday afternoon. He wrote a note. She saw the note and talked to him. He didn't know what to say. It was a good piece of writing she said. You should write.He makes mistakes when he's a lil' on the rocks. He bears out his heart, his soul, his entire being. He tells her things. She tells him things. She gives him hope. He don't like hope. It's for the hopeless. But he's hopelessly in love with her. She's not, at least that's what she says.She should have tried to make it work. That's what she said. That makes it better she thinks. He wishes it did. It doesn't.

He writes about her. The first time he saw her. At 18, the most beautiful virgin on the green. No age could furnish this nymph so graceful, wise and fair; with half the lustre of her eyes, half her wit. He had hit the bottle a little early, but still, the adrenaline, excitement and slight anxiety raced. Perfectly curved, walking around, he noticed. She probably didn't. She was the desire that fulfilled his ultimate fantasy. Her face almost angelic. It was lust eating him up. He schemed, took another shot of whiskey and talked to her. A beautiful young thing is what he needed.

She didn't give it up. A few months down the line, he took his eyes off the goal and got carried away by this being. It was not sexual anymore. He had felt this before. A long time ago. Maybe it's,no,it's different this time. He told her about it. She felt it, he knew she felt it. She freaked. She was afraid. She ran.
She thought about him, probably a lot. She called him. They talked about it, they tried again. They were both cautious, sometimes careless with words, but mostly cautious. A bit too cautious. She liked to bite his lower lip and look into his eyes. He couldn't hide anything from her. She probably knew that. They were now moving in circles. On for a couple of months, then off for a couple of months. They were afraid to invest emotions. She wanted it. He wanted it. They acted like two little kids who didn't know what they wanted. But he wanted it more than she did. He worked harder than she did on it. Until eventually he couldn't no more.
She told him she wanted out. He was too drained to fight anymore. He reluctantly said yes. He said he understood and it was okay. But it was not okay and he didn't understand. He could feel his heart crashing but he put on a brave face. She kissed him goodbye. He walked away.

He told his friends about it. They didn't understand what he was going through. Disappointments in his past had taught him to take a blow with a smile. He hurt alone. He drunk his beer. He might sleep alright tonight and hurt tomorrow. His liqour does that for him.

He's met a few nice girls since then. He likes them a lot sometimes. He can't give his heart to them though. He doesn't have the key. He thinks about her when he's with them. He compares her with them. Some almost do compare but always fall short. Others just, well, they just don't.

They talk sometimes. Sometimes for long on the phone. She seems happy. She met someone else. He's happy for her. He just wants her to be happy. It's being a while now, pretty long while and he knows she couldn't wait. As long as she's happy, he's happy.

He never got over her. He however learn't to live without her. She taught her a lot of things, but living without her,he had to learn the hard way.
They were different when they were;
He writes, she reads
He likes the outdoors, she's into indoors
He likes his liqour, she's not much of a fan
He likes all music, she's a rock lover
He spends, she saves
He's a wild one, she's a nice girl
They were a little different but they did okay. They differed in opinion sometimes but didn't really fight. They should have fought at least a few times, but that's not important now.

He might be seeing her soon. She says she wants them to be friends. He's got to be cautious with his words when he sees her. She's going to too. Choose words carefully. Probably talk about everything except what they feel. He knows and she knows. It's time to start choosing words.

Schizophrenic alert

So many voices in my head, all at the same time. They all seem so important but the problem is when I start doing one thing that am thinking about, another voice decides to yell a lil louder than the first one and I find myself sidetracked to something else. The level of competition in my head is so high that sometimes they all talk at the same time that I have no clue what they are saying.

There was this one time I was about to sleep (this is going to make me sound insane), I jerk myself back awake saying "What? What did you say?", only to realize I am actually talking to a voice in my head.
See, initially, I had two; the one I considered normal me (natural response), and over think me. So I decided over think me is on death row when I get my hands on him. Am gon ice the devil outta that lil shit! I think he got wind of my lil plan and got himself some real heavy back up. Sometimes am terrified they will one day be like "why are you ignoring us?" Men I hope that day never comes.

I've being trying to get rid of them lately but the more I try, the more I end up thinking about them, hearing them. Sometimes it's weird coz the voices worry about things that I trully don't feel.
I met this girl, pretty nice and we are in the middle of a really nice conversation in Swahili (my Swahili has really improved) and the meeting in my head begins it session with the offious president who's all about breaking rules.
Johnie:"you know,even in the Bible,men never had platonic relationships with women. The're just sexual objects."
Jack:"the conversation is going pretty well right now, why spoil the fun."
Matt:"if you hit on her now,and then hit the wall real hard,she's gone. Act stupid and wait for an oportune moment to pounce."
Judy:(there's a woman in my head)"you peverts,let the woman effing be"
Then a fight broke out for at least five minutes coz the voices won't agree on one stupid issue. Should or should I not hit on this beautiful Swahili woman? Next thing I know, this chic is looking at me waiting for an answer on a question she had asked.

So I talked to Mary Jane about it later that night. The good thing about Mary Jane, she commands respect of the voices. They coil away when Mary Jane swings by. Mary Jane told me that the best way to deal with the voices is not to ignore them, suppress or try to get rid of them. I should take control of my head. One voice at a time. In case of disagreement,natural responce will listen to all the voices and pick one depending on the factors prevailing at the moment. But overthink me doesn't like the idea.

The problem is that overthink me, when we always compromise with him,he makes me creative and extroverted compared to normal me. If I don't listen to him, I lose the creativity. Mary Jane also thinks challenging these voices is also a good way of dealing with them. I talk back at them depending on the situation, be the one to make final decision. Get involved in the conversation but be in control. If I want them to go away,I tell them like "am reading a book,I'll talk to you later" or something like that. It's however advisable to do it in your head although if they really piss you off,you can scream at them out loud.
What I realised is that these voices are real. They are representatives of what we feel about ourselves, both negatively and positively and there should be no cause to fear them. Don't let them have the power over you or threaten you.

Now they bother me a lot less and when they do, am in control of the conversation. I'll still talk to them out loud if I feel like, even in the bus or in the streets although its preferable to do it behind closed doors.
I've learnt that my voices are not the problem but my relationship with them is important. Facing them and working with them has changed my life for the better and made me feel optimistic about life.