The Diaries: Death to santa III - Die 2010

to my best friend, kind, strong, patient, loved and missed a lot...

Dear diary,
It's the end of the year when we meet to compare notes on how the plans to eliminate santa and take over the world have advanced, again. What can i say, i'm sure glad this one's over...
How the year was you ask?
Pretty much the most fucked up year of my life. When i'm 90 and taking my umpteenth hike on Mars with my pals and pet Venetian(rare breed of feline-like creature found on Venus), and as we are sitting in our camps trying to spot which star is the earth, and they ask me,"Say ben, what can you tell us about 2010?" I'll go, "Say what?",sick the venetian on him(and make him walk back to camp). I think I'l name it bob.
If anybody asks me what's so bad about 2010, you know what i'll say? I'll tell them to pick a month.
The 2009-2010 segue was the most fucked up ever for reasons i reserve mentioning, coz you, my dear diary, have been known to spill prematurely...maybe i'll ask the guy doing my biography in 2050 to throw that in.
It has been a year of so many knives in the back, a pocupine hit on me once. I know, right? Wasn't even holding a scrubbing brush or pineapple!
Where do we begin? Again, pick a month...off the top of my head...july. Found the ass wipe colluded with the stupid suppliers to skim extra cash from us. And we wrote him a polite notice saying before the company is dissolved we shall take the liberty of deducting the amount he stole from the supplier and us, before giving him his stake. It was my idea to throw in the "fuck off you incestous piece of shit". I curse the cunt that bore him and it shall forever bear the burden of the mark of cain on it. Why i say these mean words? Because, diary, in December of 2009 we consoled a 'close friend' because his momma died and catered to th funeral/cremation from our pockets, to help the 'dear friend'. Flash forward to August 2010 and we find the dead woman is alive, my account short 150k, and a case time barred. Pretty much recipe for revenge...but i can't stoop to his level. Enough of the knives now.
Oh, yeah, i quit my job too. Not fired, quit. It was for several reasons actually...depression, need to graduate, screwing investors by the big man, and the big one...fucking with my money. But we are still pals with my boss, aren't we Mr. Boss man? (Boss man:"fuck you, ben!")
Yes diary, i'm letting it all out! Pick a month.
I read somewhere that misfortunes come in threes. Pretty sure they were wrong there and left out "multiples of". So as i waded through the mud of lies that enriched the jungle of betrayal, i looked for that lone ray that broke through the canopy. That small beam of light in the distance that made you forget you were getting swallowed up into the murky existence, that you will give up and die and be absorbed into the very system you abhore. In the face of all the negativity, greed, lies and predictability that had become my environment, i had a ray. Small, steady and strong to guide me. In the darkness that had become my heart, body and soul, i stumbled around and almost gave in to it, but i had a hand to guide me out of it. And finally i did come out, a strong middle finger aimed at the world, "fuck you very much, but my soul is mine to rule." All i have is a couple of deuces left as i fix the rest of me. Alas, the one that guided me was weakened by the battle, and i swore to stand by them through thick and thin, good or bad. One good person is worth all the suffering in the world.
Yes, santa came bearing gifts, gave the bad kids the bikes and remote control cars. But for the kids who were good, he threw up in our presents, as if the lump of coal he was giving us wasn't bad enough. You know what we did? We pooled our pieces of coals and made a fire, then we grabbed one of his reindeer, the one with the red nose, and cooked it, and it tasted good prickled by santa's bitter tears, as the rest of the good guys beat up santa for the deed and location of where he got the coal. We left him the hooves though. Coal is the new oil, bitch!
So you know why i know 2011 will be a good year? Because i am taking fate by the nuts. If it doesn't play ball, we give it a little squeeze.
So dear diary, please inform 2011 that 2010 has been wiped from history, there shall be no knocking. Neither shall there be a "we're selling girl scout cookies" routine, no huffing and puffing and no, we didn't leave bread crumbs to show us the way back. We'll take the goddamn house down and build the road to our future through it!
As we push all the sorrows, sadness and disappointment with 2010 into the grave, we wash and cleanse ourselves in the rain; a sign of hope and fresh begining for the new decade.
Hello 2011, this here leash goes on that scrawny neck.

Ben.

~Happy holidays pals, may the alcohol bill and decibel limit not be a buzzkill as you usher in the new year. Don't drunk drive~

New dawn

Themaliz candle flickered wildly because of the partially open window. He watched it struggle for a few seconds before it went out. It was completely dark now. He liked it this way. The artificial lighting, fluorescent light, is sometimes too harsh.
He gazed out at the gathering storm. The dark clouds, and the trees being tested for resilience. Funny, that was him some time back. His soul, the clouds; his will, the trees.
He shut the window and lit the candle again. On his desk was a stack of sheets. He thought of dusk, dawn, the dance and now a full circle had been completed. It would be a new dawn in several hours. He couldn't fight off that dull throb of guilt gnawing at the edge of his stubbonness.
What would he write? Wouldn't it be easier to send an intermediary? Better yet, go himself? Nah, it wouldn't be that easy. He continued to stare at the stacks. Where to start, where to start.
"I'm sorry for being such an ass." Ha, the understatement of the century. He really was sorry, he just felt so bad about it he could barely contact her. Sure, the silence would exercerbate the situation, but what could he do, at present he was helpless on where to begin. Kindred spirits, that's what they were. He understood her every action, she was practically him when it came to making decisions whether good or bad.
He stared at the papers for a bit, before pushing them away from himself. Was there any need for lengthy speeches? Not with her,
[sleepy,]

9 crimes

After much soul searching i decided to name this post 9 Crimes. It's after a song by Damien Rice with the same title.
Unlike most of my recent posts this one won't go through the normal vetting that see's posts thoroughly edited or rewritten, many of them making it to the draft-never-to-be-published pile.
I'm writing on what seems to probably be the final curtain call on the most important relationship/bond i've ever had with another human being.
True friendship based on trust and mutual understanding is hard to come by, in my case it's happened once, and with the rarity of the occurrence comes the problem of identifying the cycle it's on. Is it dead, is it reborn stronger.
In a romantic relationship its always easy to identify when you are about to leave each other, and moving on is never such a big deal. It just a matter of gathering yourself up and going. Plutonic relationships on the other hand, you never know.
I guess my point is, at which point is it ok to let go in a plutonic relationship? When can you say you are officially no longer bestbuds and turn into strangers passing each other on the street? No more encouragement, consoling, or the now and then shake to snap out of wallowing in self pity.
The pain of losing a best friend can be equated to somebody close dying on you. It's actually the same thing, the same hole is left in your soul. The same mental torture of the 'what ifs'; what if we stuck a little bit longer and found a working solution. The questions are endless.
A bestfriend is all you have when you are stuck in the cold dark pit of your mind and tell people you want to be alone. He/she is the one who will come anyway and stay with you despite what you say. They will take on all the bullshit you throw their way when depressed, wipe your tears and remind you that you will get hurt and battered, but when you keep that hope alive, you will come across the few who make all that pain worth it.
As the game of passing each other the loaded gun continues, all we can hope for is realizing nobody has to fire it, it can always be dropped and things can be worked out.

UPDATE:

One thing I’m learning is, there is a big difference between a romantic relationship and that platonic (mostly) relationship with your best friend. I’ll not generalize this since it was a unique experience, so will presume everyone has it differently.

Your best friend is your lifeline, I know mine was.

With an ex there is always a fallback position, friendship; that is where it all began anyway, or should have. This is why all exes who skip the friend bit end up bitter against each other. With the platonic thing a fallback is always a difficult thing to find because you are either friends or not, no safe fence position. Yeah, how does one go from being the most important element to your life to a nothing? How do you get to that line when nothing like a knife in the back is involved?

When you get dumped, or break up with someone there is usually the several months of wallowing and picking yourself up. And of course, the blues music to get you through the day. With a friend I never have any form of transition between the act that leads to the end of the friendship, you just nothing them like they never existed. Not with your best friend; you don’t wallow or have self-esteem (ego) issues. Remember this is the most important non family person in your life. You just don’t get rid of them.

With break ups there is always the broken heart. But broken hearts heal, empty souls can’t. The emptiness and dent in your soul is nothing anything can fix except the one who filled it and left. I would gladly pick a thousand heartbreaks over one empty soul. It’s more of numbness, it’s a part of you that dies and you walk around looking ok and acting normal, but you really aren’t. The sense of humor stays and the charm doesn’t go down. But nobody would know, the only one who’d notice it isn’t around anymore.

It’s a sad state of affairs, friendship going down the drain for no apparent reason. But friendships can’t be forced on so you just chill and let things go whichever way they choose.

Curtains

He looked at her, into her eyes. That face he'd grown to love more each day, when he didn't, couldn't imagine he could love any deeper. That one who had proven to him time and time again, there is no limit to what the heart could give.
She puzzled him a lot of times, her denial, saying one thing and doing another. All contrary to her preaching. She talked of love, and facing it and showing it rather than saying it. "That is what works," she always said.
It worked for him, a man taught not to say what he cannot do. To live by action, where what you did was the philosophy of what you were. She was his, for a while. She stood by him, for a while. She let him her heart, for a while.
Survival, the drive behind all living things, the reason the dying spasm, as they hold onto that that thread that releases the soul from the body. That's what she awoke in him. That's what he wanted to share with her. For she had held onto it for him when he didn't want to.
Hurt, was what she started to give to him, when he tried to share. Pain, was what he got, when all he had was love to give. He could still see it in her, but survival was all he could think of.
It's not ok to betray those who have been there for you, but reality is, you can't force them to be with you either. They have to make that choice, otherwise, you are better off alone because you can't help it, than hated because you tried to force it on an unwilling soul. That is the way of the wise, you can only try for so long before you are allowed to give up. You cannot see the future, only God knows the future, and he likes those cards close to his chest.

They had been through the dusk, survived the dawn and made it through the dance, maybe it was time for curtains to fall on what would have been a great adventure.
With all that in his mind, he pulled the covers over himself...and prayed for sleep. Tomorrow will speak for itself

The Chips Generation

I can't remember that well where i read a this but somebody said we live in a great time, a time where most people have the ability to reach their potential and succeed in anything. The 20th/21st century is a great time.

I'd agree with him and put a heavy co-sign, apart from the tribal animosity and political stupidity, yeah, it is great to live now...I'm sure if somebody had found spectrum cure to STI's it would have been more awesome.

Anyway, i was on the chips thing. I'll start by stating the following facts about myself:

• I'm not the most moral person in the world but i'm nice

• I come off a pervy sometimes, but the nice kind

• I love pretty girls

In this age when chipoing has become the in thing we have to take a reality check on what the fuck is going on. Basically to chipo means/implies i can walk into any club especially on a friday, meet a girl for the very first time and on Saturday morning leave her a note on the bedside saying "Dear stranger, had a nice time. Thanks, keep well".
Again, you wont find me on the news ranting about what what is African, unafrican or moral, because i basically don't possess those, but i have something called knowledge and common sense. Why i say that? I'll explain.

Years of sitcoms and probably peer pressure have basically programmed us with this one fact: Its awesome to screw as many people in this lifetime as we can because those notches in your bed give you a 1Up over your friends. Do we really think? Is it something to be proud of? Are our goals meaningful? Because from what i gather most ambitions stem along this line, get a job, then get a car to be ferrying tail(funga) to the crib. That's why most people just need an SQ, a place to eat sleep and fuck.
For some women their idea of being a strong independent woman is to have the above things and be able to screw as many guys and possible without being labelled as a slut, rather sexually assertive or "explore their sexuality". What a man can do a woman can do better, right? Yeah, it is the age of independence and enlightenment.
Does that satisfy you? Are you happy with that type of life?
"Look, i have a job i really hate that pays me shit, and a jackass of a boss who makes me miserable, but you know what? All i have to do is suck it up till friday, then i can get drunk, get laid and all the stress is gone" then on Sunday evening, "Oh no, tomorrow another week begins! Fuck monday! FML[initialising zombie mode]!!!"
But you know what complacency is not the real problem in the funga generation, because it is a matter of personal choice and nobody can really influence where you settle your ambitions.
I really have no problem with lack of ambition in most people, neither do i have a problem with the fact that people have sex not primarily to satisfy themselves sexually but to satisfy their ego in the eyes of their friends .a.k.a a tool. My problem is the HIV/AIDS prevalence.
So by now some people will be going woi he is going to start that talk we've had a million times before read in the pamplets, and in the wall on that ka-clinic when you went to to have the doc look at the ka-rash kwa nyonyo. Actually no, and I don't give a fuck whether you have to take ARV's for the rest of your life.
You know what I give a fuck about? I give a fuck about people dying around me. Condoms don't work all the time, there is always that risk there will be a bonyoks somewhere and someone will pick some dumb disease that controls your life. I care because in my trying not to stigmatize you about the condition you may have stupidly picked, i put myself at the risk of getting it myself and joining the band wagon. Of having to pop some pills three times a day for the rest of my life.

It is actually sad to see lives ruined, its not just your life you fuck up, you fuck up the lives of the people who care about you. You may be living your independent life, but when you get infected and get all weak, you will go back home to your famo, you will drag all your problems to them.

Like it or not people still talk in hushed tones about the disease and its your family that will bear the brunt. Life with AIDS is not all that glamor bullshit you see on TV about overcoming and living your life as normal and “mending the ribbon”. When you prick yourself with a pin, kitchen knife or just stub your toe and blood comes out, people WILL go white in fear and tiptoe around you. Enlightened or not nobody wants to be you. That is the reality of AIDS.

Life will be expensive, life will be lonely, no more random partying...unless you're the vindictive type that wants to spread and revenge(BTW that is illegal). The only thing worse than having AIDS would be having AIDS behind some lonely cell with the opportunist diseases having a field day on you.

So next time you are at that ka-pub, your friends goading you to nail that ka-eyecandy that gave you the ka-look, remember there could be consequences. I know that it's old fashioned but you can also get a lot of tail even when you are patient. Don't just jump in there, take your time with her, a potential one night stand could turn into something else that adds meaning to your life, people sometimes surprise you. Remember, she could have hooked up with somebody else but she hooked up with you, she was the one that caught you eye.

If that scenario doesn't work for you then ask yourself, are you doing this because you want it or are you doing it because you're your friends' bitch. If this one doesn't work either, you could catch AIDS and you will die the slowest inhumane death possible, you will battle skin disease(herpes), diarhoea, chest infections(TB), name a disease that at most times is just annoying(homa) and goes away in a few hours and you can't remember you ever had it. With AIDS that ka-seemingly useless disease will own you! It will pound your body and it will try to destroy you, and you are not assured it will come alone. It will bring friends, mean ass hell friends and they will FUCK YOU UP! And eventually die because even with their billions, them scientist guys don't have a pretty little pill that makes it all go away.

In other news, monday is here...after being stuck in the jam and inhaling all those fumes, put a smile on and when you get to work, give your boss a big hug and let him wonder why you're so perky this morning. Its good to be alive.

Lovely week

Is he planning to "plough" you?

Disclaimer:This entry should in no way be confused gay bashing. I happen to have a very tolerant perception of homosexuality; that people should be free to pursue whatever makes them happy. Rape is also a serious issue not to be joked about…like I've done here. So if you don't have any semblance of humour in you…move along to the older entries…or new one. They probably have something that will appeal to a one track mind
************************************

Yeah, I know this one has been a long time coming, but finally, the scintillating sequel!

Previously we talked of how a straight guy may fall prey to the "seduction" of a closet friend who isn't ready to go through the painstaking process of turning a straight man. We continue with the tips on what to notice and avoid getting anal raped.

1. Does he place a hand on your thigh?
   

   In the history of sexual overture none has been stronger than the gesture of placing a hand upon another's thigh. If a guy ever does that to you, punch him. That is the only way to cleanse the sacrilege inflicted upon your body. If he is bigger than you, slowly edge away uncomfortably and don't make eye contact.
   

2. He doesn't like it when you bring your girlfriend
   I once had a friend, again note the tense, who never seemed to like any of my exes especially when I brought them to our drinking sessions, unless we'd just broken up, and then he'd go, "Awww, how now? She seemed nice." He probably didn't realize I saw the possessiveness and the silent high five he gave himself. Possessiveness by a dude to another dude implies, nay, PROVES, that he plans to do you at one time or another, whether you like it or not.
   


3. He desperately wants to be roomies
   

   When I was in third year in campus I got a job so I was able to afford my own place. Anyone who knows me knows I love my space; there's nothing I love more than just blacking out on the carpet surrounded by music. Then comes this co-worker desperately wanting to be roomies. I go like "dude, you making enough to live on your own, WTF!!!". I assumed he was planning something sinister especially since he had shown creepy tendencies like number 8, 9 and 10 below. Key point here is, if somebody shows they want something too much and you can't see any feasible/useful outcome, run!
   

4. He want to spend time with you
   

   This point pretty much speaks for itself. Personally if a guy calls me more than two times a day and it's not business related, I start avoiding him. Guys don't just call each other to "just talk". Guys go out for drinks, guys talk about girls and the topic focuses mostly on boobs, Julie gichuru and the craziest place you ever got laid. So if you have this guy friend who just wants to hang out just the two of you, think twice. It's just not ok.
   

5. He opens up to you emotionally
   

   No need to expound here. He's trying to reel you in emotionally. If he doesn't succeed he'll probably try some of the later points.
   

6. You've never actually seen him hook up with a real woman
   

   I once had this friend, who was all talk, yet when we were hanging out with the rest of the boys and our current girlfriends (the usage of the term is loose here when it came to me considering it was our first hook up with the girl), his girlfriend wasn't there. I started to suspect she wasn't real. I even started to suspect the saucy texts he showed us came from his other phone whose number none of us knew.
   

7. He says "Who needs women anyway"
   

   So the said friend who texts himself and has a very active pathetic account on adultfriendfinder after striking out when he tried to hit on my girlfriend (yeah I was in a relationship) started talking smack about girls in general. He'd struck out several other times, probably because their gaydars were primed and they probably figure he was a freak. A question I actually got more than once was "how can you work with that freak?"
   

   Women may be hard to understand (read impossible), but no matter what we still love them and still want to sleep with them. Even gay dudes love women. So a guy who seems to dislike women may be doing so because he blames them for the lack of enough opportunity and this is where serial killers and rapists come from. You know the kinds who are seen on CSI tying up the woman in the bathroom, smacking the guy unconscious and dragging him to the bedroom…not funny.
   

8. He peeks in the urinal
   
   Figure 3: There's a theory about size being relevant in determination of who becomes the screwer and who is made the screwee…we talking muscle mass here
   

   The general rule of thumb in a urinal is eyes should be on the wall. If your friend constantly peeks after following you into the urinal, user beware! In as much as the urinal is great for showing off and intimidating guys trying to hit on your girl, it is also a ripe recruitment area for potential ass bandits. You have to consider the fact they might not actually interested her. Rather you might find yourself engaged in a sword fight you will just end losing, morally and literally.
   

9. Does he want you to partake in a crime
   
   Figure 4: Chanting "The booty is mine no one can have it" doesn't necessarily guarantee you won't be anal raped
   
   

   The final most important advice in avoiding being raped as a guy, avoid prison. After lengthy research on the statistics of rape in prison, evidence collected by watching hours of The Boondocks reruns, it has become clear that going to prison is an assurance you WILL be penetrated anally. So the next time he suggests lighting a joint in front of a police station or in public, know he has plans, probably of getting you to drop the soap.
   

10. Avoid queues
    

    We have all been stuck in queues at one time or another, maybe in the supermarket, or the bank. Statistics show that queues are the number one crime scenes for the passive rape of men. Passive rape involves rubbing up against you in a queue until a phenomenon commonly known as "jizz in my pants" is achieved. Though it is arguable there was no penetration, the feeling of violation is still the same.
    

11. Does he want to watch twilight with you?
    

    Personally I haven't watched twilight, because I'm straight, and straight men don't admit to having watched twilight. Straight men watch True Blood, where Eric admits to being bisexual but is still cool, because he can fly. Even Clark from Smallville can't hack flying.
    

    
    

    
    
    Figure 1: "My name is Eric, I'm moody, I want Suki, but I'll fuck you too, both literally and figuratively. I threw Lady Gaga off a balcony, coz I'm gangster"
    
    I heard twilight vampires walk in the sun and practice abstinence. True vampires laugh in the face of abstinence. So the idea of the fairy tale of a vampire that wants to wait till you get married or converts you first is ridiculous. Only fairies exist in fairies tales. In essence this means if a guy wants to watch Twilight with you, he is gay and in extension wants to rape you.
    

12. Does he try to get you drunk?
    

    I once had a friend (note the past tense) who used to buy me a lot drinks. It never escaped me the extreme look of disappointment in his face when he realized my tolerance to alcohol was extremely high, in that I never blacked out or lost coherence. This was because I respect one cardinal question "do you suspect his sexuality". If the answer is yes, cross him out of your drinking buddy list.
    

    The same reason you smile at her and refill her drink is the same reason he is smiling at you and calling for another round.
    

13. What type of music is playing in the background when he invited you to his place
    
    Figure 2: Note the extreme horror and surprise...bet he didn't see it coming…bet he wont see it coming(sic)
    I guess this should also go along with "is anyone else invited", but it's more fun this way. If he plays anything by Ace of Base or ABBA especially Flower or Dancing Queen, run! I once saw a St. Georges parade on TV where they were playing Dancing Queen in the background. In scrubs when JD was almost married to an old man, guess what music was in the background… Ever since, I've always associated Dancing Queen to daisy dukes.
    

So how can you tell when it's too late to mitigate anal rape? Ans: when you have been already been done; here're things to look out for:

1. Instead of loud farts they come out in form of a silent whoosh
   
2. Yeah, that's basically it…the whoosh
   

The soul needs rest

It's not pity it needs, neither does it need sympathy

It's a soul bruised, haunted by ghosts past

The spirit still grieves, from a bleeding heart

It longs for peace, and some rest

 

Do not look at it in sorrow, for it just rests

The spirit in submission, waiting to break loose

As the last of the chains rust, closer to thee freedom

The breeze of the outside stirring the resting soul

 

Patience kindred spirit, soon we shall roam

A soul unbridled, a spirit untamed

To flow with the wind, and shine with the stars

The world in its grasp, endless possibility

 

Patience is all it asks for, as it cleanses

As old skins are shed, and torment exorcised

Will you be there kindred spirit, will you wait?

For this soul needs healing, and rest

 

Do not look in disgust, nor be hasty kindred spirit

Submission is not breakage, just living to fight again

A resting soul is vulnerable, and needs protection

When it rumbles in awakening, will you be there?

Or will our spirits roam wild and free alone?

The Longing

I gaze into your beautiful dark eyes,

As my soulful browns try to connect with them

My throat locks up with emotions

And words of love stay unsaid,

The longing

I take your dainty hands in mine

And hold on as I try share what's within

But the emotions, remain unspoken

And you remain unknowing

Of the Longing I hold

As we stay there in silence

Conversation on hold, I listen

To your soft breathing, no need for words

You being here is all I need,

Even though you don't seem to notice

The unspoken will destroy,

As dreams of us unravel, and ghosts of past loom

I may never get to tell, you may never get to know

Sometimes hints aren't enough,

Those times we pay for what's unspoken

It doesn’t have to be this way,

I don’t know if we be, we’ll last

It’s also bad if we’re led by the past, and don't try

For sometimes, I think I see it in you when we hold,

A longing

Change and moving on; what to keep, what to discard

I'm not really that self centered. I love myself just about as much as everybody else loves themselves, except when i'm in the funk(new word i picked up to denote the bipolar depression phase). I just like to illustrate what i'm talking about using personal experiences.

We have all experienced major changes in our lives, we have moved residence, school and personality, relationship, and in all this moving we've had a change in environment, met new people and had self realization moments. In lieu of all this change how do you know what to keep and what to discard?
Last year i lost somebody i really liked, not lost like in they died or moved, but lost in detaching emotionally. We had known each other for years, longer than i've known most of my friends in campus. We had attained the type of closeness gossip media would refer as "cozy".
I guess i'd been so used to having her around i never imagined i could just break all connections with her. Then sometime in april she did what i like to call "mortal sin" -not the catholic one- and she was dead to me. In an unrelated event, back then, my bestfriend was still just a good friend, even though we had a strong connection i wasn't ready to explore it by then.
Complacency is always a stumbling block in moving on, because we are so used to it we ignore change yet the current conditions we live in are no longer useful and actually hinder our continuity and development.
I'm not saying that that friend was useless, i'm saying it had reached a point where i was there for her more than she was for me. I know critics will argue about the selfless nature of friendship and not expecting anything back. I say, there is something called leeching. I guess i don't see the point where i sustain your emotional wellbeing and all you give back is bitchiness arrogance and a whole load of bullshit. We mended fences and are still friends but she knows she's never going to have whatever she had then back because she fucked up and i moved on. I mention her because she was the primary reason i found out what my best friend is made of. Pity they've never met.

2010 has proved to be the fucked up of them all. This has been the year i was dumped, had to quit the job i'd had for over two years, became bankrupt, and lost friends i'd known for years.
Losing my gf was the single most painful thing i've experienced in my life. A part of me was taken out and killed in the worst most horrible way. For months i avoided friends and family because i'd been reduced to nothing. At work i was a zombie, i'd clock in as early as i could and leave as late as i could, so much so i never even realized a colleague took advantage and robbed me thousands till way later when nothing could be done to recover it. How did i move on?
Baby steps. I had to first get peace with myself and love myself, a process that took months since it triggered a sleeping demon in my mind called the funk. It was a process that forced me to make changes in my life, shift priorities and i made it out alive. Usage of the word stronger would be wrong. Something died, taking a chunk of my personality with it; a lot of the spontaneity, daring and flirty, but i lived. I have been in other mini relationships since then but my detachment is kind of high, an example of the wrong type of change, since i usually walk away without as much as a phonecall to say i'm leaving you. Its much easier for me to walk away now which is actually a double edge sword, on one hand i can't get hurt, on the other, maybe i'm missing out on something good.

I've lost friends too, in most cases it was just a case of betrayal, something i'd have reacted to in prior years by just taking out a large chunk of the trust but keep the friendship going. But stealing from me by taking advantage of me being dumped was low and not forgivable. I'm not mad, i just pity anyone who can do that, i could easily get even, but why bother?
Losing somebody i loved and many of my friends was rough, but it just showed how strong i could be. I'm still not totally recovered but i try to live each day positively and take the challenge to make new better friends. One thing i chose to keep is my best friend, i know i've mentioned her a lot, but that girl is full of surprises, the good kind. I'll always adjust my life to accommodate her.
As i try get back my charm, spontaneity and general good humour, i just pray to God i make the right kind of decisions, for in the way of new experiences lie many hurdles and beartraps, and as you make new friends you need an old friend you can trust to walk with you and share.
Peace

Is he planning to rape you : Part 1 - Prelude

In my snug little world deep deep in the reaches of the mind where the normal ben tried to find himself and unfortunately got lost, indefinitely, leaving me to cover for his absence, a job I'm increasingly getting tired of each day, i often talk to my apprentice as i guide him on how he will take over when i too lose it and hide in the forest hidden deep in the reaches of the mind.
A question he bothers me a lot with is about the origin and purpose of it all, the universe, life and religion. I usually just shrug and tell him, nobody is even sure what the question is.
So the next commonly asked question is, "Master, I've heard of horrors like anal rape, how do i do my best to avoid it?"
"Good question young one. Rape in all its forms is detested and frowned upon in the real world, and there is never any situation that is light enough for you to ever EVER joke about rape, EVER! I know its tempting in your own little mind to do something like...er...say, write a satirical blog entry about rape titled something along the lines of 'Is he planning to rape you'."
"So, what are you doing on the phone?"
"i'm...er...sending a text to a friend, absolutely no blogging is going on!"
"Can i see what you are doing?"
"No, its personal"
"Huh? U do know how ridiculous that sounds, right?"

Forgive that back and forth, my head tends to get crowded at times. Anyway back to the headline: how as a guy, to know your friend(s) or stranger(s) is/are planning to rape you. Ironically though, is where i pulled this whole thing out of.
As we all know, rape is usually done by somebody close to you. Whether they mean this literally proximity wise, residential, friend wise or from a genetic standpoint is all entirely debatable(elsewhere - Editor)... my money is on proximity though...doesn't get any closer than that. Bottom line is, as much as they say keep your enemies closer, you'd pretty much be better off if they were dead or at least tied up in your basement unconscious. I mean, being close to your enemies is a bit of an oxymoron, wouldn't you have a better time partying with your friends than by doing something like playing Russian roulette with a herd of angry horny buffaloes pissed at you because you killed the last female bovine on earth to sate your craving for a soft burger, this after milking her then later accidentally knocking over the bucket in front of the hapless (male)calf. The buffaloes are even more agitated since (a)they saw the photos, because you put them on facebook and, like an idiot, tagged the calf, and (b) they cant release themselves on account of having hooves not palms. So now you are stuck in a room with a bunch of sweaty straight animals facing the grim reality that not only are you single handedly responsible for the extinction of hooved mammals, but you are still the reason they will go the dodo way having engaged in not so straight activity of gratification, where some of them are now exposed to the imminent and probably inevitable danger of anal rape, because genetics lent them the backhand and gave them slightly effeminate features and balls that from afar look like rather nice B cup udders. To worsen the situation in your keep my enemies closer policy, you probably let them put in the bullet into the revolver as an act of good faith and volunteered to go first, not realizing just how pissed they are at you, hence filled ALL the chambers with the nasty hollow-points.
Point is, there should be this line for friends, just at the edge where the bomb proof glass ends, and that line just over the horizon is where the enemies should be tied up and locked.
So, at what point should your alarms be rigged to scream 'run for the hills' or 'molestation alert'? Its actually quite simple as you will find out in this 10step program to mitigate anal rape...though mitigate implies its a tad too late for prevention. These steps shall be presented in form of instructions, scenarios or whatever the author sees fit to equate as a point...
By now you are nearing the the end of the article and somewhere at the back of your head a small warning is going off "wait a second, the paragraphs left don't seem like they can hold 3 leave alone 10 points on how to avoid rape" and here i agree. What has been inflicted upon you is commonly referred to as Intellectual Rape, where 15minutes(depending on reading speed) of your life are taken from you by an author who is writing merely for the sake of filling words on a screen having put up an enticing heading and baits you here and there with an interesting, yet entirely useless anecdote to ensure you get to the end. But i assure you this is not the case here where I'll draw your attention to the heading which has been appended with "Prelude".
This leads to:
Step 1: Avoid being Baited
Human beings being of flesh are vulnerable to psychological manipulation along the lines of conditioning. This not being a class, rather a How-To manual of sorts I'd direct your attention to Pavlov and his experiments...go on..Google it.
Anyway here is the scenario here:
Boy1 likes boys. Boy1 lives in closet. Boy1 meets boy2 who likes girl but wants a boy friend(not boyfriend) to meet over drinks and just talk of girls, conveniently avoiding part where girl keeps boy2's jewels in her handbag. Disappointed, boy1 plays along and befriends boy2. Boy1 conditions boy2 to associate escaping nagging girl by drinking into a stupor and blacking out in boy1's pad. Boy1 secretly rubs hands in glee and looks at the calendar as date he is supposed to move to new job in new country approaches. Boy2 is clueless.
So you see nobody is safe. In the next entry we cover Steps 2 - Step 10 and the conclusion

Just a boy

I come to you as me. In front of you stands a boy who wishes to be referred to as a man. In all aspects he is a man, he has the facial hair, the other hair, a voice not especially adapted to whispering and the man sized clothing he wears.
Inside is a boy ravaged, buffeted and tormented by the forces of the world into a shell...his own little world where he growls and lashes at most who dare approach, an animal, a savage beast taught that amiability only leads to extermination, yet still a little boy, with all the dreams and aspirations of other little boys, of money, freedom and yes, love.
In front of you stands a man, once a beast, now a boy. In his eyes, the reflection of the pain that made a beast of him, and a glow, at the sight of she who gave the love that melted the pelt and dimmed the storm. On his lips, the trembling. Words struggling to get out and express the soul now eternally open to you. In his mind the will, eroded by time, to hide the fact that your will is his...the ultimate expression of whipped. In his heart, the love, that he never imagined could be held in what was once an empty crusty old useless thing. In his soul, the light, purity and warmth of forces too large and strong for him to encompass his mind around...yet still, just a boy.
In front of you stands a man, yet a boy. The last shred of protection gone. No projection of a man left, just a boy, scared of being alone, tired of torment and rejection.
A boy already aware the cloak of being a man has been taken away, by what lies in his heart. With the mess of his cloaks, the man and the beast, and their victims lying around he lifts his eyes to you. He came out of his shell for you, he shed his skins for you, and exposed himself for you. Just a boy, no words to express himself, not anymore, no clothing to flaunt to you, no fancy toys to show you, just the glow of pure love, and the longing for you to come to him, hug him and lift him from the wreckage that's his past, and help him grow anew into a man, your man!

The call

Two days ago i got a really strange call from a guy we i shall henceforth refer to as John*. Strange, and i'll explain why.
*names haven't been changed because the author doesnt really care about John's identity
It was in the middle of the night, in a remote old town. Everyone was asleep and not a creature was stirring, except ben, who was taking another cup of cocoa and had just put in 5teaspoons of sugar...so he was busy...stirring. Ok this part is not relevant to the story, and it wasn't midnight...more like 7pm ish. Anyway the phone rings from an unidentified number and since i'm not in the drug business i answered.
"Niambie"
"Hi, am i talking to ben?"
"who's asking?"
"never mind, are you ben?"
"bye bye" and i hung up.
So, he calls again, this time more polite. He says his name is John and he wants to ask me about something important. Sure, i tell him, ask away. He does this thing that is peculiar to old men in Things fall apart, where they beat around the bush and by the time they get to the point you are at the threshold of telling them where to shove it.
Apparently John is dating this girl, Jane*. They have been dating for the last 8...EIGHT YEARS! I am about to tell him to hold the line as i take listener comments...since the call starting to sound something akin to late night capital...or nowadays, mid morning radio. So i make a gesture of "go on", though now that i mention it i realize he didn't see it.
names have been changed because she probably knows where the author resides...but it rhymes with plo
So he asks me if i know her, and if i'm dating flo...i mean Jane... Nope, i didnt bother to produce further information because he asked,"are you dating jane" instead of a more specific question like,"Have you dated jane at any time within the last 8years, more specifically when you were 19, and had a 3way with her and her best friend at one time?"
So the poor soul continues to tell me how he suspects she is cheating and how he is just calling to make sure of that and wants to make a decision... I'm assuming the decision here is whether to kill her then himself, or torture her, kill her then himself. Because from my point of view, 8years is practically a decade, i'v lived for just about two of those, meaning he has been in 1 relationship for just about a third of my life....my head hurts...thats a lot of math. Pushing the calculation further, i dated her for sometime before i got into campus so if i subtract those years it comes to...cheating bitch! Not on my part though, i was pretty happy enough to get laid those days. I left when the L word was sprung, because that was just scary...then.
Anyway john, soon to be famous on the news, asks if we could meet and discuss it further. But first things first, i had to know how he came about my number. You see, i'm not in the habit of sending out mush texts and i figure the last time i talked to her was early this year, the last time i sent her a text was over 2years ago, so it really doesn't make sense. Though i guess when he was secretly snooping through her phone he was drawn to my name...everything about me screams AWESOMENESS. Serious, even when i litter, the sweeper always finds himself pausing over my garbage for a bit and can't understand why. I ooze awesomeness and can't help it...pity girls dont notice it. I guess its the geeky clark kent effect...thats a mystery for another entry.
Anyway by now i was bored and he'd started bitching about how hard it is when you are dating a hot chick, since everybody also notices and tries to get her... He was close to tears which was pretty awkward for me so i told him shit happens and went to hang up.
He ended by asking me not to tell her because it might screw things between them...i choked on my saliva at that. So i hinted that 2k gives me amnesia...guess he didnt get the hint coz as of the publishing of this entry, nothing in my mpesa account...yep...bone dry.
Moral of the story: Shit happens, and most men are stingy bastards

Giving up

I'm assuming this is going to be the first entry that actually reflects the title of the blog. Yen in the web address may define yearnings or something i really desire, whereas the title part "frustrating world" talks of the actual situation on the ground in reaching my yen.
There is always something i seem to get wrong when it come to relationships, because i cant understand why other people get it good and I'm the only one who seems to be always on the outside looking in. Its really pathetic and sad.
I always stare into the mirror looking for signs of deformity or a tail. You know its really a horrible thinking maybe there's a monster in you everyone notices except you, because you know deep down you are a sincerely nice person without any baggage...maybe except the baggage that nobody wants you. It kills inside and sometime you don't want to wake up sometimes, because you are that kid in the candy shop without any money, you can see it and smell it, but you cant have it.
You know, all i wish is someday a girl would look at me and take the time to realize, in here lies a pretty awesome dude who is just looking for somebody who will just take the extra time to realize there is something really special and unique, just waiting to be dug up.

Almost

Its really sad that you had to spoil it
It was almost us, the subject of envy
You were this dear to me, almost in my heart
Now you and me, is no more
The sweet nothings we shared are just that,
Sweet nothings, words forever empty
The sweet nectar of our kisses
All removed to the world of what ifs
Your beautiful smile and laugh
Now just any other face in the crowd
To ignore and walk past, not even a glance
Yet the ghost of almost continues to haunt
For behind the coldness was warmth
Our last embrace lingers
The ghost in my head taunts
Willing me for one last try at 'us'
And one more chance for you
But new scabs of friends rid
Throb with new pain killing all hope
Of you getting close again
Still the sweet nothings whisper
Of truth from your lips
And confusion in your thoughts
But its all gone, the second chance
The small part that had loved you
Died in your last act of selfish
Now we'll live in the almost
As i chide myself for not making our last words
Memorable and coated with honey
Goodbye sweet love, my almost

Same story

You came to me bearing promises
In your wake a thousand kisses
Told me you were for real
Looked at my scabs and swore
To stay with and help me heal
Yet deep within at my core
I knew i could not feel

The essence i so willingly gave before
Was taken and kept by one
The only i trust to store
For there's no more to atone

Deep in your eyes i saw your fear
In your laugh i heard the sadness
For deep in your heart i was near
But in mine was the emptiness

All i've had is pain
With love its never for me
And you none to gain
For you were just the same

In your hem was the string
Your embrace gave me warmth
But it was just a fling
I wanted to give my all to you
But the illusion just broke
I am not for you

For when i came with a clean slate
You came with a bunch of ghosts
In your warm embrace came the chill
As they enticed you to the darkness
'come join us' they said
'we have cookies'
You turned to look at them
And i knew, i was lost to you

You were the same as the rest

But you had the chance
Dusk, dawn, at twilight were the signs
You let yourself get poisoned
And now you join the list
The almost but never will
The same old story over and over
Story of my life, loves gained
And loves lost, all in a breath.

The happily ever after

I go through life in a trance like state because of the very simple reason that it didn't come with a manual.

Thousands of generations later we still face the same problems, ask the same questions and make the same mistakes. The only difference is we're more crowded, less likely to die from AIDS and we have the internet. Other than that not much progress; we still use the wheel invented a couple thousand years ago, maybe we've gone a few rungs higher with fire through the microwave.

When I'm not fantasizing about how awesome it would be if i was actually the one who invented the ipod or founded microsoft or google, i think about my love life. Yeah, i really beat myself over that one. When I go to bed I try to convince myself how awesome being single is, and i succeed sometimes, the rest of the time I sleep a tormented man.

The last couple weeks have been like a self evaluation period where I almost completely convinced myself that i don't care, but as we all know of the mysterious ways of life: always striving to contradict us, so now I'm back four steps.

A friend recently tore me a new one about how I used to treat the girls flirted with. He reminded me of the horrible things i used to do in the name of one night stands; the unceremonious dumping and moving to the next one without giving a crap then repeating the pattern. And i had to explain i haven't done that the last couple years, i have actually tried to stay in a relationship and almost succeeded, though he didn't really buy it at first. Then he propositioned that maybe its karma getting back to me for everything, whereby i mentioned I don't believe in it, but i'm slowly starting to.

Next came another close friend to me; he got married and now has a son. That really brought out the self evaluation. I guess it finally occurred to me that I'd want that too. I wouldn't mind having somebody to come home to every evening and waking up next to her the next morning, maybe have a daughter I'll spoil by giving her everything she wants. I get swallowed up by that fantasy, then...poof! Back to reality, I'm alone.

One thing I believe though is that love is patient and natural, I can never force myself to love anyone or force anyone to love me. So i don't seem to love(read falling in love) that much or even fall for somebody easily, but its not by choice.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm the one going about it all wrong. Maybe the process is get somebody I can tolerate and tolerates me, stay with them. With time we learn to like each other and eventually it blossoms into love or seems like it. Isn't that the same concept behind shotgun weddings and forced marriages?

So herein comes my best friend, she is actually the only existing proof that I'm not retarded when it comes to loving somebody. Truth be told, I have considered trying the romantic angle with her and I always have to remind myself why we can't. I don't want to take the risk of losing her.


Moving along, everyday we are always bombarded with the stories of the happily ever after(disney, wedding show etc), and I always stop to think what is my place in that universe. Maybe I'm the wish-granter(consciously avoiding the word "fairy" because of the gay connotation attached to it), who manages to give others their dreams while not much seems to be going for you. Having the power and looks yet never having somebody to appreciate them. It's a lesson in redundancy and how things rarely go by the book or as per expectations.

Knowing many girls who like you but you can't like them back is like being stuck in the middle of the ocean, all the water in the world and not a drop to drink. A big shame. As I prematurely conclude this entry in haste for my kick-boxing session I end with the question, am I ever going to find "The One" for me? Or did she die in a car accident somewhere in the kingdom far far away?

~ Peace mes amies - ben~

Spam This

I have been really idle the past couple of days, something i'm not used to. I had connectivity and nothing much else to do. Somewhere in my head it clicked that getting out of a cyber cafe with a hard on was not really a smart thing to do, therefore porn was out of the question. So i go through the spam folder in my gmail account.
There are about 200 emails in there, so i select them randomly. The first one tells me I've won some yahoo lottery i never applied for. True, i have a yahoo account and true it is linked to my gmail account, so i check the boring details, since there is no wet paint to watch as it dries. I open the pdf and as google docs is loading, i muse over the pros and cons of the calories i could lose by continually banging my head against a wall.
Finally its done and the yahoo logo is splashed unprofessionally all over the document. Apparently I'd won £820,000! I couldn't hide my excitement so i ran around the CyberCafe screaming,"Yes! Yes! Yeeeeees!", kissed the attendant in the mouth and called my boss and told him to jerk off, I'm a millionaire now! No, not really. Still in a state of boredom I skimmed though the document. I assumed if i'd won they would at least have my email and names. It wasn't there. I checked the "from" address expecting something like zeezilz+winners@yahoo.com; it was from patrick123.2010@rediffmail.com which shocked me to the core! Not really, i expected something like that. The rest was just a load of crap about needing my personal information making me lose all interest and click "delete".
Moving on, the next email read "Permanent EnlargedPenis with Dr. Guaranteeed Up To 4 Inches & 50% wider in 90 days or less"(sic). Yeah, I have always had a problem with my penis size; whenever i see a naked woman it grows, then after sometime it shrinks again; how good would a permanent solution be! I had considered using something akin to chinese chopsticks to prop it up, but here is a solution with a "new formula"! I guess i missed the old formula last time i cleared my spam(shameless pun - Editor). So i followed the link... No, I "accidentally" deleted on purpose, so now I'll never have the cure to attaining a permanent erection.
The next emails pretty much had the same the theme. One in particular caught my eye:
DO YOU WISH YOU HAD A Wider & ThickerPenis?
Do you have below issues?
Small and inadequatePenis size - Do you feel like you have a smallPenis?
Poor performance duringSex - Does the anxiety beforeSex cripple your ability to perform?
Decreased self confidence - Have the years of ridicule taken their toll on your ego?
Loss of interest - Has your inability to please yourPartner caused you to lose/decrease your desire forSex?
If you answered YES to even ONE of these questions
We can help! click here to read more(Changed the link, don't worry)
I would walk through my answers to each of the idiotic questions, but it would contribute to what is commonly referred as too much information, but it was a "no" to each. Though the last question could be either a trick question, an insult or indication of a very selfish man. Then again nobody has ever give me a formal complaint. I mean, when you have a nasty break up majority of the girls use lines like "You weren't all that in bed!", or "I faked it", that should be a signal. But If they try to get a booty call, you did something right. I assume that is what would happen in general situation *ahem*!
I never even bothered with the viagra themed emails...it's an insult to youthful virility.
At the end of it all, i learnt a major lesson: Delete spam regularly and you are better off continually banging your head against a wall to pass time....

Break point

By writing in my current state of agitation i'm breaking a major promise i made to myself sometime back to never publish anything i've written while emotional immediately. It's my way of keeping myself from giving out too much information.
Moving on, it's 1am and i'm up sitting up in my couch feeling miserable and hating my life. I'd rather be in bed because i have a long day tomorrow and i need my beauty sleep.
I have been thinking about my life a lot lately and i don't think i like what i've done with it so far. I know its less than a month since my graduation but i expected better of myself.

Not Love

I hate it when you look into my eyes,
cz i dont want you to see my soul
I hate it when i look into your eyes,
All i see is the vanity n lies of beauty you've been fed
I hate it when you try to hold me,
It just reminds me i'm alone
I hate it when u hold my hands,
cz it keeps me from downing my vodka
I hate it when u ask me if i think u r pretty,
thats why i'm taking the vodka, to lie better
I hate it when u ask what i'm thinking about,
cz its definately not you
I hate it when u kiss me,
all th lipgloss feels lk i'm eating raw cold fat
I hate it when u hug me,
feels like a squishy oil drum
I hate it when u ask me 2go home with u,
cz i wanna go home n wank
I hate it when u brag 2 me who u can have,
cz it sure as hell aint me
I hate it when u ask why i'm being an asshole,
cz i dont give a shit
I hate it when u ask me if i'l call,
cz i'd rather spend my airtime writing on how much i hate everything about you

Ode

Tossing n turning there's no sleep
For upon the night it will weep
A wounded heart still raw
Knowing all that it saw
All the love that it will hoard

Praying against all hope
That she with the voice like the sea
Will just once turn and see
The one who hurts behind the smile
And tries to fake it if only for a while

Behind the eyes so bright
Lies a boy lost in the wild
Yearning for that smile of sunshine
With breath like the breeze at dusk

For as it said in th scriptures of the old
'Gaze all thee and behold'
'The work of my hands I bestow'
'Perfection in all that you know!'
And the soul that had been whole
With she of the heart of gold

Now he roams alone in the plain
In puddles and cold from the rain
The blurry shadows of his past
Each step like his last
For he can't trust again
Knowing that only with her in the bargain
will his mind be free of the void
And again two souls will be as one

Ask Aunty Susan

Dear Sue,
I have this problem. Nowadays when i take a stroll around town, girls always stare at me making me feel like an object. Sometimes in a pub they harass me by looking in my eyes then run their hands through their hair smiling. How can i tell them to stop and recover my dignity, should i inform them that my shrink is in love with me and wants me for herself and I'm only playing hard to get in order not to seem desperate. I really need your advice.
Yours truly, Awesome in Nairobi...


Dear Awesome,
First i would like you to note, i already know its you Ben. Frankly i was surprised you weren't more creative in picking a pseudonym.
Second, the fact that you are seeing a shrink screams 'crazy' right there. Word on the street; after four sessions with you, she needs a shrink herself.
Now to the diagnosis:
You really aren't as good with girls as you like to think you are. Sometimes after our sessions i really shudder at the thought of you reproducing, but i feel better a few seconds later because i know you don't really have the guts or skills to actually get laid.
You suffer from a condition commonly refered in our circles as phallus extendus mistakenus sometimes confused with bipolar. Basically this translates from latin to delusions of grandeur especially when it comes to the opposite sex. You seem to believe girls and housewives swoon in your presence, but they are actually playing dead hoping you will go away... Most of them(i swear its not personal experience) go home and take a long hot shower trying to cauterize all traces of you, where you stared at them...
Finally i would like to inform you, sending me letters is in violation of the restraining order. Another thing, a woman wearing a trench-coat, with nothing underneath, is sexy. A guy doing that...an insult to humanity! Next time you do that in my office, not only will i run out half screaming and laughing, i'll also call security!
But since you have been so nice, i got you a sweater. Dont worry about the sleeves being too long, its easy to adjust that: we can have somebody pull them around your waist and tie them together at your back, or if the length allows, loop them back to the front then knot them together. It would look so nice on you.
In addition we are making arrangements to take you to this great hotel where they will cater to all your need. Don't worry about the guys who will appear to be carrying pointy sticks, they're just thin batons to keep security...the little nodes at the ends going bzzzz are just decorations...
Hope i answered all your questions well.
Yours truly, Aunt Susan

Metrosexuals and Sexuality

I'm not the manliest of guys. I lack th calloused hands and bulging muscles you may find on lumberjacks n construction workers... I'm not a big fan of fights or physical n verbal confrontation, neither am i a fan of turning the other cheek, so i can do quite a bit of damage defending myself in both cases.
My point is that on the scale of manly aggressiveness i don't rank with the big boys...or at least not that high up the ladder.
In retrospect, I'm not the most sensitive of guys. Its highly unlikely for me to open a door for you, but not out of the question. Pulling a chair for you is also hard, and I have to like you a lot to do that! PDA...that's another grey area...I gotta be in the zone where we are the only ones in the world to pull it off, n as far as I'm concerned, happened wit only one person.
Hell, I don't even know how to handle a girl angry with me, most times i'm too stubborn to say sorry or ask what's wrong(cz most times they say 'nothing').

Now that we have established i'm neither manly-manly nor sensitive-manly, the question begs - where do i lie? My answer, Definitely not metro-sexual!!
Metrosexuality came with the ships(ilikuja na meli) and is the 'white' man's way of having your cake and eating it in the sexuality context. So another question begs isn't this author being hypocritical and two sided also; you wear imported clothing, imported technology, use imported language and have vague knowledge of your culture. I say, wait for my point.
I have come into contact and interacted with metrosexual guys closely n my overall conclusion...gay! I don't have a problem with gay guys per se, then again u wont find me playing a game of '1tequila, 2tequila...floor' or bottoms up with them. Have to give my ass-ets the benefit of the doubt.
Anyway metrosexuals smell flowery, dress flowery, do their nails, visit salons as clients and talk flowery. They also have the habit of gesticulating delicately while talking and touching touching other people a lot. I'd rather have an outright queen as a friend than a metrosexual, because at least u know a queen does guys and once you lay the ground rules which are basically along the lines of 'don't touch me' you can become pretty good friends. I believe metrosexual is just another term for 'i dont think i'm gay'. Metro or not, a guy placing his hand on my knee or any region between that and my shoulder is freaking creepy, between knee and waist is asking for trouble. Trying to talk into my ear while facing me...wrong move... Why the fuck do they do that? I hv 2chant 'thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not kill' to myself as i try to pull away as discreetly as possible, to keep from using a bottle on your head. Just admit you like guys at once and drop the term, i mean we live in the most liberal of times, you can get away with almost anything short of bestiality...nobodys judging. If i was a girl i'd probably swing both ways too.
*****
So, recently i was disturbed to realize proximity between two people leads to some sort of bonding developing... Even more disturbing is the ensuing behaviour. So i ask, how do you handle a situation where a guy behaves like he's got feelings for you? This is not like a bromance at all. Bromances are like bff between guys, quite innocent and really common. This other one is really weird... When a guy, who i presume to be hetero, starts acting all possessive over me, all the alarms go off at once...i dont want to ask Aunt Susan for answers coz she can be a trifle nasty...
*****
Anyway, i'm really quite comfortable with my sexuality, and this comfort developed from unlikely quarters...back in seminary.
I never really thought much bout homosexuality until this nasty rumour was started. The problem with such types at an early age is that you get really confused because you wonder if there's a point to the rumour bout yourself you never considered...recipe for self doubt and other shit. When i'm more daring with my writing I'll expound on the self doubt bit. Bottom line is i discovered i'm strongly monogamous and love girls a lot...
So in a time when guys are coming out of the closet...let them do so openly without prejudice, but for fucks sake they should buy that gaydar new batteries. Don't try convert others, it has been satisfactorily verified its detrmined soon after conception.

Letter to my 13 year old self

Hey 13 year old Ben,
I am going to impart you with classified material which will probably get me kicked out of the top secret “Grandfather Project”. Don’t worry about the name, your fascination with time travel and worm holes will let you know the implied meaning soon enough. I’ll give you something called a news sandwich where I’ll give you good news then bad news then good news, or vice versa.
I’m guessing right now you have had two terms in seminary and it hasn’t been a walk in the park, what with the intense bullying and accusations of being gay, right? Well I hate to tell you this but it isn’t going to get any easier. In fact, brace yourself for the toughest four years of your life. For a start, all your dogs will die in the next month, every single one of them because somebody went cheap and refused to pay for a very important vaccine. Ok, I have to admit this is the sandwich ham only…no good news to cover it.
Now for good news; you know the Goju Ryu/Tae Kwon Do classes you are taking? It will pay off, you’ll lose all your flab and girls will start paying attention and they’ll even hit on you a lot of times. Bad news, you’ll still have self-esteem issues that will totally fuck your dating life. But more of that near the end.
By now you are waiting eagerly for me to talk about your relationship with your father. Well, it won’t get any better; in fact you’ll hate him for a couple of years. Everything he does for you will have strings attached. He will manage to totally destroy whatever shred of self-esteem and confidence you have and you will spiral into suicidal tendencies. Don’t worry, you are reading this letter meaning you will get to write it, right? The world is still your oyster and you have great things ahead because surprisingly enough you’re still an A student. In fact you will turn things around and you will escape his hold, the beatings will stop, you’ll make your own money and most importantly you’ll learn a little something called not giving a fuck!
Now for some really good news; when you hit 18 you will have a little sister! Yes, a sister and you will love the little munchkin with all the love you got and then some. Later you’ll join college and you’ll finally deal with the self-esteem issues and get yourself a girlfriend, model for a while, fulfill all your fantasies in a couple of months, and join campus where you’ll have a blast, uncover your sexual potential, join the swim team, win a lot of medals….get a job and be your own man! Though I have to warn you, you will get tired of the job and you will quit. Oh, almost forgot, you will be diagnosed with bipolar disorder…
Since I’m almost at the present with my letter I’ll tell you about your love life. So many girls will come and go you won’t even be able to keep track especially since you seem to lack the ability to love or move beyond “like a lot”. Your mom taught you to be smart so you’ll know how to protect yourself even though you will do things she won’t be proud of. Anyway 6months before you write this letter, you will have known the meaning of heartbreak. Your girl, she will show you what love is and you will love her with everything you have. Then she will destroy you like an ant, yet you’ll still be in love with her and screw up every subsequent relationship. And don’t ever lie to yourself, you can’t get back together, you are both too proud for that. Since it’s a sandwich, we’ll end on a high note. Your bff will be a girl and she’ll stay with you all through your shit, remember to take care of her and let her know you notice all she does for you.
I know you are curious about the present, but I’ll let you find out for yourself. But you will become a great poet and writer and you will win hearts with it, but don’t let it get to your head.
Yours,
A very grownup you
P.s Just throwing it out there, there will be other girl in your life; if you gain more guts than me, let her know you know she is just using you as back up.
~credits~
To Kris, somebody I truly trust, @savvykenya n @switcheeks whose letters to their 13yr old selfs inspired this, Zain who hid my deed to Antarctica...which i plan on getting back

My pillow, my confidant

Each nite i turn to you
I bury my face in your warmth
Only you know my pain
The reason i got bags in my eyes
Aging before my time
As i shift you from side to side
Hopelessly seeking for that healing elixir, sleep

Its only you i can turn to
In a world that has mostly shown me pain
As i watch pieces of me float around me
And wash away to be damned
As i helplesly watch, too numb

Its only you i can hold
To take in my tears, that are so normal now
As i hug myself looking for that reason
To take my next breath
And get out of bed

As i turn to Him, the one with th reason
Take this cup from me
For i am not that strong
I am not The One, i dont have the will
You dont just give a glimpse of heaven
Then drag me to the abyss
For i'm not that strong
I cnt walk, for there is no light
Why show me, if i cnt have it?

My bestfriend, guardian of my secrets
Knows of my losses, n my bigger losses
My cushion as th burden of mistakes past n mistakes present
Weigh in, n close in for the kill
Holding my hand as i open my eyes
For one last time, to witness my execution

Origins: The Mid Finger

According to Darwinian theory, in the course of the evolution of the homo sapien, the opposable thumb initially developed for the sole purpose of grasping tree branches. As the mind functionality evolved in the segue from homo erectus to sapien the use of the thumb was extended to holding tools and eventually wielding weapons.
As the social interaction between the sapien and neanderthals developed, the populations increased and the competition between them for food and mammoth skins also increased. At a disadvantage and with the impending threat of extinction from the ice age due to their unusual lack of body hair, the sapiens knew things had to change. They realized that by extending the arm and straightening the thumb with varying degrees in relation to the ground, it could act as a signal of sorts. Lacking a use or meaning attached to the signal, it was left to the members of the younger generation to experiment with.
Speculation among the archaeological community about use of this symbol indicates that the sapiens started a sport called "scalp the neanderthal" where after successful capture the hunters would stand in a semi circle around the unfortunate neanderthal. The leader would stride over the body with his arm outstretched in the thumb neutral position. He would close his eyes turn then stop. Then he'd open his eyes and rotate the hand. Whoever he was facing when the thumb became upright would have the pleasure of scalping the neandathal. It is widely accepted that this led to the extinction of the neanderthal as well as the development of the infamous thumbs-down signature of Caesar at coloseums after gladiator combat, and the much loved spin the bottle.
In addition the loved game of football/soccer was born after a sapien stumbled over the severed head of a fallen enemy. Trying to keep the head from rolling away a second sapien kicked it back to the first sapien, now lovingly known as "Clumsy" by the group of archaeologists who found his bones. This sport was refined by the Vikings and eventually developed to football as we know it.
At the same time, the seemingly useless mid metacarpal appendage adapted lengthwise, for the sole purpose of repelling annoyant green eyed variations of the homo sapien, who with the development of verbal communication came to be known as 'haters'.
An that is the murky past of the thumbs down and mid finger greeting. Next we'll cover the origin of the phrase "Give head"...

What is it about you?

You waltzed into my life and i lost my breath,
i looked into your soul, as you looked into mine,
storms were calmed, deep currents were formed,
what is it about you, that captured me so,

days turned to weeks, and weeks into months,
still we dance in the rain, with each other for warmth,
as we sway to the rhythm, of lust n love entwined,
to the music we call life, i press pause n wonder,
what is it about you, that makes life so magical

lovers come for one try, and leave with blood on their hands,
with the heart broke, and a raptured soul,
i turn to you with a tear stained face, and ask why its always me,
without a word you hold me close, my wounds scab n flake,
and i live to love again, coz that is the thing about you,
you hold my heart

The Esther Arunga mysteries

~What is it about this one that has my fantasies in overdrive? Is it the denial that the all so soft all so cute Esther is not such a holy holy after all? Or is it the death of the dream that I would be the one to ruin her life?
I have had fantasies about others…namely Alyssa Milano and that sweet thing Megan fox, who unlike Esther who farts designer perfume, farts sunshine. And why is the author so obsessed with what these hot girls fart? That’s a mystery for another day…ahem! ~
Previously on the Esther Arunga mysteries:
“I quit this stupid station, they don’t pay me enough”
“WHAT!!! But Esther, it’s your life you’re giving up, think of the children!”
“Damnit, it’s a TV station…Hellon’s finger beckons…frankly the ‘come-hither-motion’ brings me faster, if you know what I mean!…ta ta freaks!!”
*******************************
Now the continuing saga:
Curious as to what was going on, I sought audience with Esther and Hellon to get to the root of this mystery. But I decided to wait it out until the bigwig media were done and out of earshot, before digging in.
ME: Hello Esther.
ESTHER: Ben, didn’t think you’d show your face here.
ME: Just heard about that Timberlake thing…is it true?
ESTHER: What do you think?
ME: What about us Esther? What about the night we had…(Hellon looks at her curiously)
ESTHER: *ahem* You stupid fag, not here! fyi I read that note bout me…you’re lucky I’m not suing you for 30 million. You promised!
ME: You also promised it would be only me and you baby! Now look! Besides, if I was a fag I’d be having this conversation with Hellon!
HELLON:(winks) You don’t say…
ME: Geez! You sick fuck! I always knew you were gay!
HELLLON: Wtf! I have a wife!!!!
ME: Good cover! Btw, that thing with the supernova and the palm…I’m curious.
ESTHER: Ask away!
ME: Is the supernova thing a reference to an exploding star or your coming… And the palm, are you pointing out how many fingers you can take in at once…coz if I remember right…last I checked it was only two!
ESTHER: BEN!!!!
HELLON: What is he talking about?
ESTHER: Nothing dear, he’s just a delusional groupie…you know how they are with their fantasies and celebs! Isn’t that right ben!
ME: (muttering to myself)*the nerve on this one*…you want me to say I’m delusional? Fuck, you’re more stupid that I’d estimated!
ESTHER: Me stupid? Who the hell do you think you are? Nothing smart has ever come out your lips, you know that…NOTHING! And the stuff you write…CRAP!!!
ME: You dumb bimbo!!! The smartest thing to come out of your mouth was my dick!!!
HELLON: he he he!
ESTHER: The fuck you laughing at? You’re supposed to be on my side! And you Ben, what do you want!
ME: I just want to know, who’s making you do this? It’s not like you!
ESTHER: What do you want me to say? I love him; he knows how to touch a woman!
ME: What are you implying? Besides, he’s in jail…it doesn’t even make sense. He’s most likely Onyi’s bitch by now… He’s more likely to hook up with Hellon now…
HELLON:(hissing) Dude…don’t even go there!
ME: Oops, sorry man….secret’s safe with me!
HELLON: Asshole!
ME: That’s not cool man…down boy…you know I’m straight!
HELLON :( Throws arms in gesture of giving up, and turns to Esther) Don’t know how you’re putting up with this guy!
ME: Are you doing an inside story?
At this point she grabs me and pulls me to the side out of Hellon’s earshot!
“Wtf Ben, I’m about to nail the biggest story of my career, please don’t ruin it for me, sawa? I’ll call you in the evening and explain everything!”
“Are you screwing Timberlake?”
“Like you said, the asshole is in jail, what do you think?”
“Ok”
“I’ll make it up to you, promise. But not now”
We walk back to the conference table where Hellon is looking at her curiously.
ESTHER: I’ve set him straight.
HELLON: Good, we need to come up with another party tune and I need you to practice it. That performance in front of the media was embarrassing and too painful to watch.
ME: You could say that again*snicker*
ESTHER: Fuck you ben!
ME: The mouth on this one! Anyhoo gotta go people…can’t say it was a pleasure!
HELLON: Good riddance…
ME: This coming from a Lumumba wanna-be!
HELLON: What?
ME: Nothing…nothing… Bye Esther!
ESTHER: Yeah, bye.
*******************************
I left that interview feeling I knew better than most people. The media is just taking us for a ride with the whole fiasco. Maybe they are trying to distract us from something else. Derailment of the draft constitution maybe?
In the evening I waited until 10, and still she hadn’t called. I took my phone, flipped through the contacts and came to her name. I took a deep breath and hit the dial button…
“Mteja wa nambari uliopiga, hapatikani kwa sasa”
~the mystery continues~

Lookie here, smells bipolar

About one and a half years ago i was diagnosed with something called bipolar disorder. I took it for granted to say the least. Look at it from my point of view; I’d been living my life comfortably without any more worries than the normal 20sth year old. I mean when you have a healthy campus experience, a well-paying job and crazy friends, what is there to worry about?
Anyway the real reason i went to see a shrink was to just verify i didn’t have MPD or some shit like that. My two worst fears are going crazy or losing my memory...though if i lost my memory, how would i know I’m scared of it in the first place? It kind of took him a long time to figure out what was up because we didn’t know what we were looking for in the first place, and i figured he was a quack.
He had several questions, you know the things the shrinks usually ask, did you have a happy childhood, how was your life as a teen, your interaction with friends and members of the opposite sex, whether i was in a relationship, how long they lasted; very intrusive questions, but I’m an open book.
He brought out hidden demons, things that I’d suppressed like the episodes of extreme mental and physical bullying i underwent as a teen newly joined a seminary, the accusations of being a homosexual, which were so bad my best friend had to change schools. The bullying wasn't so bad since in my head everyone went through it. The homosexual references were; i almost got confused about my sexuality! But it took a classmate cornering me one night during a blackout to make me realize, I’m not attracted to guys not at all! Till now no guy can put a friendly arm around my shoulder without creeping me out completely! But that is how i came to tolerate gays because i have a good idea what discrimination they go through.
In terms of ideal conditions for bipolar disorder, my life is the primordial soup.
Anyway relationships have not been easy for me. I remember of accusations of being two sided and at extreme levels a pretender. This one close friend, with whom we'd been off and over the years, once sat me down and told me her fears about me. She told me that sometimes i behave like two different people; I can be this great guy most of the time, and at other times I'm broody and angry and she can't guess what I’ll do next. I guess that shocked me.
But there is one relationship that has stood the test of time, the one with my best friend; lets for the sake of this blog entry refer to her as Miz Lox. Miz Lox is the only person in my life who has faced the worst of what the bipolar in me can bring, and actually stayed. If i recall the nasty things I’ve said or accused her of during my many rapid cycling periods of anger, rage and depression, i have to admit, if i was her i wouldn't have stuck around. You have to realize there are times i told her i never want to see her again, or how i thought she was using me. I hate even to think of the emotional toil she goes through because sometimes she can’t even tell where that came from. Yet despite that she manages the energy to tell me to "go fuck yourself", then calls or comes to check up on me.
As a result i love her to death for that and i bet she knows that i appreciate her with all the goodness that i can muster from my heart, because truth be told, there is no way i can ever repay her.
The other meaningful relationship in my life didn't go that well. I guess i have never understood how i always seem to screw it up time and time again. Each of those times corresponding to a bipolar episode and not of the manic kind, the rage type. I want to explain that it’s really hard for me to notice when I’m going through any of these episodes. It’s easy to identify when it’s a mood of depression, but the rest are hard to realize.
The last time it corresponded to the episode brought on by being mugged at knife point, the mixture of fear and emasculation. Anyway I don’t even know how to get her to realize, without coming off as rude, that it’s not about her, she just happened to be the nearest person when i was lashing out. I tend to brood and magnify something that is not there, to horrific proportions and there is a chance I might say something i don't mean. I can come out looking like am judgmental or critical of something about somebody and say something i wouldn't normally do when I’m sober, drunk or stoned. But i try not to think about her in that context because I’ll end up beating myself up over it which will get me depressed leading to regression. So i just focus on the good things about her and hope she'll come around and understand with time.
Family has not been spared either. I especially pity my mum. Just because i was diagnosed with bipolar recently doesn’t mean i didn’t have the episodes before. I mentioned earlier about the bullying and extreme pressure. At the same time my relationship with my dad had deteriorated... Anyway unlike now when all i get is a broody episode or say something nasty I don’t mean, back then i used to have suicidal tendencies. My mom couldn’t understand the wild episodes and it took a toll on her since she thought i got possessed or something. The things i accused her of! Damn! Mothers go through so much for the sake of their kids and in the hands of their kids. Where do they get that type of strength from?
In primary school i once swallowed a whole packet of what i thought was valium in an attempt to kill myself. As it turned out the valium were the ones next to what i took. It was in seminary that i finally stopped with the attempts, mostly because Catholics believe suicide is a one way ticket to hell. So all through the bullying i had to contend myself with just the thought of death. But hey, since the actual episodes happened only once or twice a year, it was cool, i survived.
I have found a balance of kinds of dealing with it, but it’s not like i have much of a choice, since i'll probably have this condition for the rest of my life; plus i want to keep from having to use the happy pills for as long as possible. So i make sure that whenever I’m in low spirits or a bad mood i avoid everyone, calls, texts, IMs or inboxes.
In addition i have to state that bipolar is in no way an excuse for anything i may do and i am responsible and accountable for all my actions, good or bad.
Anyway, for the most part i'm normal me and i love life with all the zeal of an adrenalin junkie, so as long as i keep my stress levels to a minimal i am AWESOME!
********************

Nairobbery: Tales from Githurai

It was a beautiful sunny day and i'd just received good news, that i was going to graduate come July. For those not up to date on my news, i have spent the whole of this year just trying to get that stupid piece of paper. So here i am having finished all my precious savings, justifying my decision to use those Githurai buses that charge ksh 10 only for the whole trip over the 60ksh matatus.
So I had just sent a text to a buddy and was about to alight. Anybody who has been through Githurai can describe the terminus as a filthy affair of people, mud, ditches and rubbish. In an unusual action, and later to be a good sense of fortitude, i threw my phone onto my laptop bag, which in another fortunate turn didn't contain my laptop.
when i got off, i made it a couple of steps before i felt somebody grab my hand and walk really really close to me. Two other guys flanked me on the other side and i felt something pressed against my ribs...thankfully(if i may say so) it wasn't a gun...it was a knife...talk about between a rock and a hard place.
The guy grasping my hand asks for cash and hints he has a gun, and goes to the extent of informing me they are 'native' to githu and can disappear just like that. I really really wanted to call their bluff but it occurred to me that if they weren't bluffing I'd most certainly die for nothing. Risking my life by snorkeling among sharks and other extreme sports is worthwhile, but dying because of a stupid ego thing that is just plain dumb.
My sensei would turn over in his grave, though i doubt he would call me a little pussy, if he saw me there being all docile and shit. When he was passing the martial arts skills to us he was teaching us how to defend ourselves and beat the crap out of bigger guys. Though he refused to teach us how to use the numchucks and close combat knife fights! Still pissed over that, though i understand why, we used to go overboard with our spurring, which is how i dislocated both toes and broke three ribs(and i was the lucky one)!
The big question now. Where was everybody else as i was being mugged? Answer: Looking on or pretending not to notice. Nairobians are a funny bunch...they dont realize they might be next and maybe nexts time they will be one ending up in a ditch dead, or sprawled over the railway, a sacrifice to the morning train.
Anyway they frisked my pockets and took out about a K and missed my phone by a mile. They hid the knife and merged into the crowd. Still very much shaken and emasculated, i made my way to K.U. almost ignored a call from a friend who'd seen my tweet because i didnt want to talk to anybody. That was about four days ago. And that little incident triggered a bipolar episode...that led to a really big screw up, which is a story for another day.