A Tale of Two Titties

A few weeks ago I found myself at a swimming pool. It was another lazy afternoon at a local pool. Nothing special or profound about it. Nothing special about most of the people in the pool either. Just the normal people. Some fat, some skinny, some barely able to dunk their heads into the water without gasping like they're drowning.

Among this collection of humanity was this girl. She looked like she was in her mid or early twenties; very pretty, with a slightly stubby nose which only made her prettier. It was obvious she was a beginner from the way she clung to the edge of the pool and rarely left the shallow end unless supported by someone.

At first she kept everything below her neck underwater, but with time as she got more comfortable with the surrounding she started revealing more of herself. All she had on apart from a pair of white trunks was this thin t-shirt that had turned completely transparent after getting wet especially where it clung to her body. Which was just about all over. For all intents and purposes, she was topless. Her breasts were out there, open to all stares. If she was self conscious about it, then she hid it really well.

On Instagram there is this hashtag that has been floating around for a while now called #freethenipple and the story behind it is on the treatment of women's nipples like they're obscene body parts that shouldn't be exposed in public, while men's nipples are viewed as normal and no censorship is ever applied to them anywhere online or in public.

There is a point to it. If you'd ever seen a woman breastfeeding in public, it looks normal and no-one ever comments about. Is the nipple suddenly not erotic because there is a baby in the picture drinking from it? Take away the baby and they suddenly become obscene again and people start grumbling. Human psychology and culture are funny sometimes.

The girl in the pool was frolicking with her friends, and getting taught how to swim. There was some staring initially but after a few minutes it was like nobody cared or noticed anymore. She went about her business, comfortable in her own skin.

I admit that at first I was worried especially after all the incidents of women getting stripped in various parts of the country under the claim that they were immoral and indecent. I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe I was expecting someone from management would come over and tell her to dress up or wear a proper swimming costume like they do at the Kasarani public pool where they don't allow bikinis or any costume that exposes a woman's stomach. For guys pretty much anything goes as long as you don't swim naked.

Whenever you ask around why there is a such a rule, especially regarding exposure of the stomach, you get the stock answer that it is intended to protect children from immorality. African culture has changed over time. We claim that it is against our culture for women to appear topless, but when you dig around the archives you will find that in most tribes women always walked around topless just like the men. Does this mean that rather than becoming more liberal we have actually become more restrictive towards what women can do, contrary to the progressiveness we claim to have achieved over time?

I remember as a child when we went upcountry I used to love swimming in the river. At the swimming points it was not unusual to find women swimming stark naked. It didn't stimulate me and that didn't turn me into a sexually obsessed little perv(high school did that).

Do we even bother to find out why such a restrictive modern culture evolved? Or do we just accept it as it is even though evidence shows there is no much difference between male and female nipples. If the reason we dislike female nipples so much is because of their role in foreplay, and during intercourse, well, the male nipple should be banned from the public also. Speaking from personal experience.

I admit, breasts are fascinating and are a huge turn on in the bedroom or wherever a woman lets you play with them. But is this enough reason for us cut down on a woman's freedom of where she can let them loose? Of course it wouldn't be okay to expose them in many situations like in the workplace. But that is a matter of the same ethics that would also forbid a man from being topless in the workplace.

There have been arguments that breasts are distracting to men. Is it really a woman's fault when a man can't contain his idealization? Wouldn't it still happen whether a woman is topless or covered from head to foot? I'm not claiming to be a saint and that I have not ogled women in the past till they were uncomfortable. When it was pointed out, I was able to control it and actually stop. I actually try to make sure even romantic involvements are more about the companionship and less about sex. And it's working out. Sorta. But that is a different post altogether.

So is it that men aren't aware they do it? Is that what self consciously drives us into oppressing women's bodies because we can't control our own sexual urges, or rather assume we can't control them? Are all these rules we have a way of projecting our own weaknesses and denial onto women?

 Case and point, the girl in the pool. No one seemed to be offended by her nudity. No one seemed to care. Did people who would have otherwise cared not care because everyone else seemed not to care? Or was it a coincidence that in such a random assembly of people all of them had been conditioned to look at is as normal. Or is the discrimination of women some sort of mob psychology where a critical mass of bigots must first be attained and the oppression begins?

God, are you there?

The biggest problem with writing is that you have to keep at it constantly otherwise you lose your flare and skills. It's a muscle that needs to be constantly flexed in order to stay in working order. Haven't been doing that lately, mostly because I never had any inspiration. Until recently.

But that is not the point here.

When I was still depressed, especially the first years I used to oscillate between believing in God and not believing in his existence. Mostly because I was going through so much shit in my head and in my life that it was hard to believe that He would allow someone like me, who never had any ill intent against anyone or anything, to go through so much hell that I didn't have the will to fight it anymore.

For endless months I wished to either die or for it to stop and for months I didn't get either. It was bad, I was in  bad place and hardly saw any happiness and when it came it was so fleeting it felt like I was being mocked. Through it all I still constantly prayed it would end. But it only seemed to get worse. The little one was the one who tipped me over the edge and I ache for her every single day. But I got closure and acceptance, so that is no longer an issue.

My relationship with God was turbulent, because I didn't know whether to believe in him or to abandon thoughts of a deity and accept that life is what it is and the best we can do is just follow our instincts; and accept there is no meaning behind it at the end of it all.

I used to have moments of clarity, but they were very very rare. I just wasn't happy.

Last year was the year it all changed. After intense treatment and therapy, the light came back into my life. My opinion suddenly changed (nope, it was not gradual at all). I was suddenly happy again. Especially the months I had no memory. There was no cloud hanging over my head, and the whole world was suddenly laid out in front of me. Yes it is sad I lost so many years from my life, but I was ok.

Wasn't this what I was praying for all those years I was depressed? For it to go away and for my mind to feel like it was mine again. To be mine again. For me to be able to trust in my decisions wholly. Wasn't this everything I had wanted then? Was it because of God? Where does God stop and I continue?

As evidenced by articles written since February 2014, it hasn't been exactly smooth since it's a journey of finding my identity sans depression. But it's not as bad as it seems. I know who I am. It's the dreams I had given up that I have to catch up to again. I have rediscovered friendship more meaningful than they ever were before. It's realizing that for the most part, I had family and friends right there beside me.

A few days ago I was talking to a close friend about God. I hardly believe in most religions, and as a result I never go to church unless it's a wedding or as some form of moral support for someone. But I do pray. I pray a lot nowadays. 

It's not that I expect him to solve all my problems. I don't expect him to suddenly make someone I like to fall in love with me, like some sort of mind controlling genie. When I pray for something like love, I'm just hoping that I find someone to look at me and see me for who I am and love it and be ok with my flaws. I pray that I will be able to do the same. I don't want God's role to be the magic potion. I want it to be as the hand that brought us into the same place where we became aware of each other. The rest being up to us.

I have always been aware that I am emotionally unavailable to most people especially in the way that would lead to a relationship, and I always prayed that when I found myself available and vulnerable to someone, they would feel the same. All I know is I would give it my all.

My point is I stopped looking at God like a nosy, glaring parent, always disapproving everything I do. After all, he made us and is aware of all our weaknesses and when I look back at my life, I can see his influence all over. Things I can't logically explain.  And things even though explainable, they don't follow logic. Make sense? 

I see God's influence in decisions I made in the past that are actually making sense now. Mainly because when I made them all I had was the intention to do something right even though I didn't know how they would ultimately help me. When I put the interests of others over mine. It is in learning that I can actually gain without being selfish. Sort of like the logic in using up resources is to make our lives better. We don't know anything about future generations or if they will remember or value us, but we have the need to use it responsible so that at least they have something too, like us.

I'm not a saint. I'm not as good as the last paragraph may have hinted. I have moments of absolute selfishness sometimes. I am far from being an example of Godly. But Lord knows I try to be the best I can be especially when it comes to other human beings. 

I always try to make sure I do good things even if I don't get it in return, and I always try not to be be bitter when it's not returned in kind. I want to be happy without having to exploit the emotions of others. I want never to care about what other people think of me, while at the same time showing the ones that care about me that it's not for nothing and that they are safe with me.

Maybe I am picky when it comes to who I associate with, but it's because it is a no holds barred experience in opening up that is both intense and fulfilling. Friends and lovers alike.

Believing in God works for me. It's comforting knowing that whatever love I have inside has a higher meaning. It is comforting thinking that we're all an extension of God, and while things may be dark, we're never really alone. 

We may not know the way, but looking back it all makes sense. It really does. Everything is for a reason, even though we may not know what in the present.

Life in a rut

Coming out of depression felt like waking up from a long sleep.

You feel groggy, and have vague recollections of the last dreams you had and trying to differentiate which memories are real and which memories are echoes from the dreams.

I knew I would have a crisis of identity down the line after getting 'cured' of depression. I knew I would reach a point of ultimate dissatisfaction about where my life is. I knew the restlessness would come back. I knew it would hit me hard.

Have you ever reached a point where you look back at your life and know you aren't happy with it? Sure it would be easy to argue about it not being within your control. I can tell tell myself over and over that there was nothing I could do to change my life while I was depressed. That I didn't have the capacity for making expensive or risky decisions like I am able to now, and was able to before. It is so easy to just resign to those facts and just go with it... But I know better.

The thing that scares me the most currently is, ironically enough, the fact that I'm not scared at all.  It's like my subconscious has already made a decision I'm not yet aware of. I am worried that I am about to do something stupid. But something stupid and something risky are the only options I have left. When your are backed into a corner you can either give up...or turn and face whatever is chasing you.

I have dreams and goals. I want to have kids someday. Probably sooner. I want to do something I love, I want more control, and I want to contribute to humanity and the world more actively and directly.  Truth be told, I don't see how I can do that in my current state. I don't want to sit in one chair long enough for it to adjust to the shape of my body.

Have you ever felt like your life is in a rut? Have you ever woken up in a strange bed you couldn't recognize? Everyone insists it's your bed, that you've lain in it for over 4 years, but the mattress is too lumpy, the sheets too mouldy, and the bed too creaky?

You get out of the bed and look around. The walls are the wrong colour...not even close to the ideal colour you'd have wanted. The floors are tiled, but the tiles don't match and where the carpet lies, it's too thin. You go out and discover all you have is the bedroom.

When you seek answers about why you live there, everyone tells you you just have for as long as you can remember. Their memories only go as far back as you slept. So for them it's normal. You remember going to sleep in a bigger bed. You remember it being more comfortable. You remember more rooms.

Nobody seems to understand why you complain about your bed. After all they are comfortable in theirs, or rather they have accepted those are the beds they shall have for ever and ever.
But when you think about eternity... It's not worth wasting eternity in a bed you hate.

I'd rather sleep in the cold seeking out a better one than sleep in some stupid bed I can barely remember slipping into the first time.

Opening up

I love writing, and I love knowing people can see my posts and understand the stuff I go through that I can only express through writing.

This blog was one of my outlets over the five years that I had clinical depression, when I was suffering and unashamed about who saw it. An incident a few months back made me rethink the idea of having a blog where my identity is known.

It wasn't anything serious or bad, but one of my co workers got one of those notifications that Google in their infinite wisdom feel they have to ping people you know with, informing them that there is a post you put up that they may have missed. In her wisdom, my co worker read it aloud and everyone within earshot heard it and those stupid enough to comment, did.

It was a cringe-worthy incident for me, and I felt violated on so many levels. I was angry, I was confused, I was unable to lash out verbally because it stung and I was still shocked.

I write so that I don't have to talk about it. It is my belief that when you read something I've written, the unspoken agreement is that we then don't have to discuss it EVER, unless I bring it up in conversation. Writing allows me to communicate emotions I'm still unable to express verbally.

I still needed this blog because even though I am not depressed anymore, I still have a long way to go to be sure that it never happens again. I still have to deal with the five years I lost; and that in my mind I feel that I'm 5 years behind where I wanted my life to be, which amounts to being a failure, as far as I'm concerned. It is a weird feeling going from being years ahead of everybody, to waking up and finding that you're behind.

I am still mad that 6 years ago I had figured out what I wanted to do with my life and had begun on that path, then a disease came and spun me off course; and when I stopped spinning, the route had changed and I can't seem to be able to find it anymore, or at the speed I need to catch up to where I wanna be.

I am sad that I feel that I have to stop using this blog, because I know there are people my experiences in dealing with depression could have helped. I just have to find another way to get to them.

I am sad that, in failing to recognize certain boundaries, my friends have gone on paths that have alienated me from them, because some of the topics they choose to use against me - in jest or whatever 'humorous' context -  touch on insecurities I have been trying to deal with for a long time, and it it not in my nature to tell people they have gone too far, because I just stop caring.

So, I feel more alone than I ever have in a long time because I feel like I don't have anyone to turn to. And my last refuge, which was my blog, has become a weapon that can be used against me. As I seek new ways of venting, please bear with me.

I shall continue to post here from time to time (I hope). But I'm feeling more inclined to open an anonymous blog. I'm not sure how I'll publicize it because of the whole maintaining anonymity thing. But I want a blog people will read, and if they choose to pass judgement, at least I'll be out of range.

Homosexuality and being human

The purpose of having laws is to protect the people from others who may take advantage or abuse their rights as human beings. The law is not supposed to tell you how to live, and as long as your lifestyle does not take something from someone else, there is no need for a rule to dictate how you should live.

That said, the law is supposed to be adaptive so that as we evolve we repeal laws that weren't well thought out. It is ok to question the law if it is time barred and/or fails to protect us by being too restrictive because at the time it was enacted standards were different. Remember, slavery was legal in some countries once.

Once you learn a bit of theology, you realize most of the Bible aint all that, because we abuse it and interpret it to justify morals, a lot like the horoscope and how most people read it and say "omg, that is so me". The Bible is subject to the same abuse, this keeping in mind that many of the books in there were written over 3000 years ago!

Look at it this way, the morals and lifestyles that were the norm the 60s are outdated to us. The 60s are a mere 50 years back, yet we still cling to something written thousands of years ago, wherein we don't have the context that would help us align ourselves with the teachings and how they apply to us. Do you honestly believe that Adam and Eve existed 5000 years ago? Anyway it's not my work to debunk the Old Testament.

But lets go to the book that most people use to dispute homosexuality, Genesis; and the towns of Sodom and Gomorrah. Historically there is no evidence they ever existed. And when you continue to read the book, Lot's wife gets turned into a pillar of salt for looking back. What fair god is that that punishes you for looking back after hearing an explosion, but is quite ok when the same guy goes ahead and has sex with his daughters? What about that? You may argue that he was drunk, but as we all know "I was drunk" is not a really good excuse to justify incest. Or our moral compass says it's ok to have sex with your children, but it's wrong to have consensual sex with someone of the same gender?

Thank God the law isn't based on the bible because I love bacon.

Anyway, I used to be homophobic, but then I asked myself, why did I hate them? I'm not homosexual. Standing next to a homosexual never made me any less of a human being. I didn't start suffocating because they were inhaling the same air I was. I didn't become a homosexual because I was in the same space as them. I didn't feel like they were trying to have sex with me or 'convert' me. My money was still intact afterwards, and not once did I feel threatened.

So for all intents and purposes they didn't in fact affect me anymore than standing with another heterosexual would have. Which would allow me me to conclude homosexual doesn't ooze out and isn't airborne. I actually learned that they were homosexual way later upon hearing who they were dating, and even then, nothing extraordinary happened. So why was I so scared of them to the point of hating them? Simple, I didn't know what homosexuality was. But you see, I don't need to understand why someone is homosexual any more than I need to understand why I am heterosexual. Unless for statistical or scientific purposes. You just need to accept that that is who they are sexually, and as long as you aren't the one having sex with them, it's none of your business and should never come up as a factor when looking at them as people.

Which takes us back to the law. The law makes it illegal to be a homosexual yet a homosexual is just another human being just looking to find happiness and purpose in life. So why is it illegal? We can't all be monochrome templates of each other, we don't have the same preferences and we'll never be the same. We value our uniqueness so much then when we come across something we don't understand we let unjustified fears cloud our minds and allow it to form into hatred. It's not right.

You can't turn into a homosexual by allowing homosexuals to explore their sexuality. Your kids won't turn into homosexuals because homosexuality is not illegal. But a larger group of people will be happier. Isn't that the point of life anyway? To be happy and not have to hide that you're happy? If someones happiness is with someone of the same gender why deny them? It's not like we're legalizing having sex in the street in open daylight. That would be immoral and messed up regardless of sexuality. Sex happens between consenting adults in the privacy of enclosed spaces.

So I'll ask, "Pilipili usioila yakuwasha nini?"

There is a probability someone you know is gay but can't find happiness or explore that part of themselves because they know your stand and can't understand the origin of your hatred. Don't be that person. Some things you can't choose any more than you can choose your skin colour, or parents. But you can choose to be tolerant and understanding. That is what makes you human. That is what makes us all human, to be able to acknowledge our differences and be ok with that.

A shitty existence

Has anyone ever noticed that the people with the most mental health issues are usually the ones who are extremely smart? Think Einstein, John Nash and the countless others out there. I consider myself smart, but most likely not at the level of the geniuses I've mentioned.

What would make a person, that to an outsider, has it all; intelligence and a good lifestyle. Why are they more likely to flip out than the rest of the populace?

Me thinks that at some level, their subconscious is tuned in to the world more keenly, and concludes that it is screwed up big time. Look around everywhere. It's mostly the selfish assholes that become wealthy and they become wealthy because that inbuilt moral compass that would direct their attention to the suffering of others is turned off.

That part of being human that tells you that it's not fair to live in excess while others die of hunger, seems to be turned off. Where your dogs are better fed than more that 60% of the world's population. Where is the fairness, and why do people so blatantly exploit each other?

Look at the earth, it's the only planet that for hundreds of light years around  that can sustain life. What are we doing? Using up it's resources like there will be no future generations that will need these  resources in order to survive. We know we're destroying it but can't give even the slightest hint

The same thing that allowed mankind to become the dominant being on earth is the same one that'll lead to his destruction. God really has a funny sense of humour. Give them brains, build in a self destruct mechanism.

Maybe that's why we've never encountered any other form of intelligent life. Maybe all life has a self destruct sequence built in their genes that upon reaching a certain stage of evolution, activates and they destroy themselves. It's probably a vicious cycle that has manifested itself for eons meaning that no form of life will ever go beyond interstellar travel within their local solar system.

I know it eats at me constantly. Why are we like this. Why do I sometimes show that type of aggressive competitiveness? Why am I also conditioned to want a life that will ultimately lead to exploiting others? As an environmentalist I understand that, used well, the resources are more than enough for all of us and reverse whatever damage has been done so far. But where does the incessant need to feel better than others come from? That need that justifies us actively pulling the rugs from under each other in the hopes that the pedestals we put ourselves on will be a couple inches higher than the ones the others have placed themselves on.

I don't understand. Life is constantly throwing shit at us. We're knee deep in shit and more shit is coming our way but the person beside you will take a handful of shit and try to convince you how less smelly their shit is than yours. And you know, you are in the same friggin' river of shit. You try explain that there is no difference, but get told off, to go mind your own shit. Rather than clean up collectively and get rid of the shit once and for all, we're busy trying to convince others how much better our shit is. It's tragic story.

We compete at unnecessary and redundant levels. My God is better than your God, yet neither of us has ever encountered our Gods. I am happier than you; yet the things that (supposedly) make one happy are very relative and thus can't be comparatively quantified. You like gaming, I like traveling and swimming. You live for social interactions, I live for commuting with nature. We're so different, but we don't achieve high levels of happiness the same way.

Point is, the world is damaged. We're damaged. We damage each other in the process of trying to prove to the others that they're more damaged than us. Ultimately, we're all going to finish each other of.

What is the pride in being the last person standing in a race where everyone was intended to win?

The stupid ones cometh

It was a cold Monday in March when I stirred from deep sleep. Today was the day. I was grumpy because I hadn't seen a 5 am in years. At least not as the start to a day.
Struggling to see between crusts of dried eye goo, I picked my wallet; confirmed my ID and voter's card were intact, as well as the observer's badge that would save me the pain of queuing for hours. After hastily washing and wiping away the goo, I was off.

By 6 am I had this stain on my small finger that would last another couple weeks...or months. But it was alright, I knew my favourite would have a tough time winning, but at least I voted with my conscience, right? That is all that matters, right?

Flash forward two years later. The regret in people's voices when reading the newspaper, or talking politics is obvious...for most at least. It would be easy to give a sarcastic, "see the people you voted in" statement, but the truth of the matter is that choices made by the majority affect all of us, both the conscientious and the gullible.

That is when you realize, democracy isn't as glamorous as they made it sound in school. Makes you think... see, if it was a despot, you couldn't blame yourselves for the bad governance because in that case you didn't have a choice. Because dictators do bad shit whenever they want.

There is this amount of pain you feel when you see the extreme levels in the proliferation of corruption, and callousness in the use of tax money for selfish purposes, by the supposed revolutionary leaders. Then there are the images in the media of people who have lost loved ones as a direct result of corruption; the pain in their eyes when the govt says it'll compensate them, as if that should give them some sort of comfort, especially knowing the circumstance behind the deaths.

The pain is almost unbearable when you remember that we did this to ourselves. We brought this onto ourselves because when viewed through the tribal monochrome, we only had two choices in that election; it was their people, or our people. Since when has that helped anyone outside very specific family circles?

We had the lessons of history on our side... FIFTY FUCKING YEARS!! We knew(and still know) the political affiliations, since it they have been within the same freakin circles since independence! Yet, we still voted along tribal lines! Divided along lines that wouldn't make a difference whichever choice we made as long as we stuck within the two choices passed off as the only way for change.

Since when has voting for a person of your tribe helped you directly or indirectly? You still have the same struggle passed down the generations from your parents and them from theirs and so on. The only constant is the stupidity in voting.

I thank God for devolution, because it shows where poor decision making starts. Our 'tribesmen' are buying speedboats for 'us'; in a region without navigable water-bodies save for dams. Where they oppose setting up of cancer centers because they weren't 'consulted', but put up full page advertisements in newspapers looking for bidders for the construction of their palatial residences, funded by your own money.
 And you can bet the lowest bidder isn't necessarily assured the contract because nothing is too good for them, and the advertisement was more of a formality than anything else. Because they want to assure us of "transparency".

Does it strike you as weird that being in public service is one of the  fastest ways of growing rich in our country?

And you want to know the saddest thing about all of this? The most absolutely fucked up fact that should essentially give people sleepless nights and nightmares?

The most absolutely fucked up thing is that come 2017, even without rigging, the same faces that have always had their fists up our butt-holes will be elected back to power!

Love is...

My life is like unto a bargain store, and I may have just what you're lookin' for; if you don't mind the fact that all the merchandise is used; but with a little mending it could be as good as new. 

Why you take for instance this old broken heart, if you will just replace the missing parts you would be surprised to find how good it really is. Take it and you never will be sorry that you did. 
You can easily afford the price. Love is all you need to purchase all the merchandise. And I will guarantee you'll be completely satisfied


Had a different title and introduction intended in order to break this long fast I had taken from writing. Death to Santa isn't real writing since it's more of a recap than anything else.

After the formatting(that's what my friends prefer to refer to the ECT), I knew that I'd probably have a return of old habits and emotions. Surprise surprise, that didn't come to pass. I knew I'd be able handle my emotions more differently from how I did during the depression, and they wouldn't be as they were before that period.

See, I have more experience now. I'm no longer a child new to relationships, no longer vulnerable to puppy love. Still just as stupid when it comes to love, though. The stupid aspect I'll reveal in later entries....hopefully.

I have been in quite a few relationships, few not in the quantitative euphemism for a ridiculously large number, but few in the literal sense. I could lose my hand then give a few digits from the remaining one and still be able to count on my still attached hand how many serious relationships I've been in.

But how do you define a serious relationship? Was it serious because the thought of marriage crossed your mind, serious that you introduced her to your parents, or serious in the sense that you reached a point in the relationship that you never even once imagined yourself ever being with someone else, and it was ok?

 Or is it serious because even after it has ended you don't have regrets about ever being with them, and you still care for your former partner and hope all the best for them in all their future endeavours (and are actually not being sarcastic and whispering curses under your breath like the asshole in you used to do after a fling when you were younger). Is that a sign of maturity, or is it a sign that the relationship is really gone and the embers turned to ash, with chance of rekindling dead with them?

It has been said a lot of times, life is short; you're barely walking when you get thrown into school where you learn to read; and as your mind is opening up to the new world contained in literature your hormones kick in and the instinct of seeking companionship is woken up. Then the game changer -  you're out of your parents' and have to fend for yourself and maybe seek companionship. Before you know it you have offspring, and soon they're also leaving you and you have to deal with the fact of your mortality same way you did coming in to life, confused and unsure what the hell life is about.

Life really is short. And I'm caught up in the grey area where I can take care of myself but still unsure if I want to invest my emotions in taking care of others. I don't want to make any more mistakes, or enemies, but I know those are inevitable unless I bend over backwards for everyone, though even then I would still make enemies from those who don't like the way I keep getting pushed around. - and to clarify the previous sentence, I don't get pushed around!- Just the normal getting pushed around where I can't afford to make a snarky comment to people in higher authority in some situations because I kinda really really need pay my bills on a regular basis and being homeless would dampen my ability to continue trying to escape the rat-race.

I was on matters relationships. I dunno*, if there is once thing I'm determined never to do it's to make enemies out of people I loved and allowed to see me at my most vulnerable. I take love seriously because it's the one thing that ever makes sense in this life, or at least my life. If I said or expressed that I love you no force in this universe could ever take it back, or make it mean any less than when I first knew it. even proper grammar can't effectively explain it!

I'll probably make more mistakes, hopefully I'll be able to make up for them, hopefully I'll never find myself having to walk away and breaking promises of not walking away.

What was the point of this whole entry?

Love is sometimes eternal. We may be unable to express it sometimes, but that doesn't negate its existence or water down what it meant before when it could be expressed more easily and openly.

A poet never takes notes. You never take notes in a love affair - Robert Frost.



* now? I think I put that asterisk over that word because it's not proper English...honestly forgot since there are more slang words elsewhere within the entry. Also, I rarely ever go back over some entries, like this one, this is to keep myself from editing out important points

Death to Santa VI [2014]

Dear diary,

Another year I haven't died. Suck on that Satan, this soul may actually end up not falling into your ironically cold claws. Who would have guessed!

I am thankful for my family, Lord knows this year started off on a really messed up note, which I hardly remember but they have to live with the stress I put them through.

I am thankful for all my friends who stood by me through the 5 years I had clinical depression further complicated by the bipolar, which didn't make me the easiest person to be around.

I am thankful for my girlfriend for dealing with me for three years! A record for any of my relationships... Probably a record for anyone dealing with my type of mind! Sad it ended, but I shall forever treasure the times.

I am thankful for getting my mind back after being dissociated from my memories and experiences for most of the 5 years.

I am thankful for everyone that came back after I pushed everyone away all those years.


While I got a tonne of morbid jokes, I'll save them for 2015.

Maybe Santa isn't such a douchebag, maybe I should finally make peace with this adaptation of St. Nicholas. But is Santa a wave or a particle? Is he able to deliver all those gifts in one night because he's figured out how to exploit quantum states but doesn't want to share the knowledge? That pisses me off because that carries the answer to me travelling the universe... earth is too small in the cosmos scope. Well...fuck him, you know...

Sorry, I digressed.

You now what they say about habits dying hard...they really do. I guess all those vices and habits were hidden somewhere in my brain just waiting...waiting. And come back they did. My attention span is now that of a goldfish... I get bored just as easily as I get excited. An lulls in the conversation don't make me feel awkward, I just move on to something I feel is more interesting. Maybe I should change that.

But my mind has opened up again and I want to learn everything! While I'm not willing to go as far as Faust, I want to know as much as I can!

Most people I've come across are talking about narrowing down the circle of friends. Why the heck would wanna do that? Small circles are mediocre ,and boring, and lack variety... I want a larger circle, I want to know people everywhere, while my circle of trustees will stay small, I want to be friends with everybody if possible! I wanna dig into every nook and cranny of their memories and see all their ideas, dreams and views about reality. I want to know what gives you the strength to wake up in the morning and get out of bed and out of the house. I want to at least have an idea why we as a species are so unique in that we're capable of all these amazing things yet at the same time the most vile and evil beings around.
I want to know why we have love, and can tell each other we love yet go back on our words and backstab the shit out of the people who trust us the most. I want to know what drives us to turn around with that knife still bleeding and hug and give them the chance to do it again. Is that what defines love? Is true love the act of having the love go both ways, or is it the ability to overlook betrayal in the name of love?

I'm not as closed off emotionally as I was before the depre...that thing. Nor am I as closed off as I was during. Probably the other way round. I'm more open minded, more open to new ideas than I have ever been in my life... Maybe It's because when you're introduced to the world of quantum mechanics you realize nothing is what is seems and reality maybe just an illusion where everything is hidden away from us forever...or as Humphry Davy put it,

Nothing is so fatal to the progress of the human mind as to suppose our views of science are ultimate; that there are no new mysteries in nature; that our triumphs are complete; and that there are no new worlds to conquer

Anyway, gotta go diary. Hope everyone who reads has a productive 2015 that'll bring you closer to your dreams. A new year gives you the opportunity to shed off every undesirable thing about yourself. A habit takes roughly 6 weeks to change. Which gives you until valentine day...coincidence? Probably... Maybe I conveniently doubled the average time required to change a habit.

Either way, make those over-ambitious resolutions but try as much a possible to change them...for example if you decide to lose weight, at least make sure it hasn't doubled by the time you carry over the resolution to 2016. Fatty fat fat fatties are disgusting, plus your heart is struggling. Whatever your resolution, here's to an awesome 2015, diary!