how you see yourself
Full of dignity
A woman of substance
Changing the world
Just by being it
how you see yourself
Full of dignity
A woman of substance
Changing the world
Just by being it
Don’t kid yourself,
You were never part of the plan
She wasn’t reaching for you,
You happened to be in the way
You were not her destination, her home
But you dreamed of it,willed it into existence
Stopped the constellations and offered yourself
The ultimate price.
Was it that important
That you offered so much?
Did you not need yourself anymore
What was the plan love?
You contorted and writhed within you
Stopped the whole universe dead in its tracks
Tried to create something you could not fathom
Failing in a twisted hilarity each time
Your heart stopped each time.
How many times did you need to kill yourself,
To give life to the wandering traveler ?
Pen touches paper
Actions long before ordained
Heart beats steady
Every breath inspired
Life finds meaning
Words take form
The glory beckons
Like an itch begging to be scratched
A caged animal seeking release
Love dying to be proclaimed
Inspiration dying to be had
The masterpiece teases
If blood on paper be more effective
Who am I not to indulge?
The soul demands prominence
Over any pain conjured
Lest peace forsake me
To oblige I understand
So judge me not
Should I offend
Control I know nought
Mastery I desire more
The piper seeks remission
And to oblige, I understand
If He deems it fit
Should I then matter?
Will consequence betray
My fallible will
Should fate conspire
To cast me into oblivion
I do fear
My soul would forever bleed
And tranquility be
Eternally a stranger
I have been barking at my mind lately. Begging, prying, for just an ounce of inspiration. Longing
for the days words would flow, written on the paper before I could conjure them in my mind.
Like a wizard with his wand, I’ve been longing for the days I made magic. Frustration all too
present, repenting, lest God took my gift away. I’ve known no other longing, as stubborn, as
And then I thought of you, the image of you stuck in my head, the neediness to be with you. I
know not how to write a love letter, for I have never had the need for it. I must try this time. I
feel it will be my only redemption. For although inspiration deserts me, and frustration
overrides me, my longing for you is just as strong. I have thought of nothing else for days. An
obsession quickly forming in my heart. Yes my heart, the stubborn little thing. It beats to the
rhythm of your heart. I can feel it from miles away. I can tell how you think, I know the things
that trouble you, the things that make you laugh; I know them all. Words flow when I think of
you. You heal my uncommitted mind. How could I possibly tell you, a stranger, the emotions
you invoke, the hours spent staring into nothingness, creating possibilities of you and me, of
us? Am I remotely good enough for you? Do I ever cross your mind? How would your touch feel
on my skin? Would I lose all sense of feeling, floating in space, a place where only our souls
would reside? Would my heart quicken as it does at the mere mention of your name? Would I
shed a tear, at the completeness of it all? Would you say the words that I so long to hear, the
words that would to an eternity of bliss lead?
I am not one to get carried away by the childishness of love. Yet for you, I am thirteen again,
and I can think of nothing else but the flutter of my heart at the mention of your name. I am a
child scribbling love shapes in her diary mindlessly, writing your name over and over, seeking
the courage to let you know and failing miserably; Waiting for you to come find me. I have
waited but once in my life. I wrote you this letter that I wish I could send. That I wish you could
read, and with no shred of doubt, know it is for you that it was written.
She wants to live among the stars
This she has known since her mind took form
She’s been scared of nothing more
Than being ordinary
She cannot perceive it
Her heart wants it all
The money, the fame, the influence
She wants them to listen
Like a maestro
Playing the world to the tune of her words
She’s not ordinary
She’s not ready for ordinary
The stage, in all its entirety
The silence beckons
The soul pleads
Words take form
Truth as she know its
That they hear
I have two sisters. That terrifies me greatly. I live in such a vain world, where women are born to be seen and not heard. Where women who speak their mind are branded as controversial and those who manage to be just as good if not better than men in the corporate world are perceived as having slept to the top, as it is easier to believe. I fear for them for I cannot shelter them from the foolishness of the world. A world that is so increasingly obsessed with beauty and the standards of beauty getting more ridiculous by the day. My sisters are growing up in the age of social media. Yet all I see all over social media is an obsession with big asses and light skin tones. Where the most talked about women are those to whom nudity comes most easily and is cashed in on. I fear for them because whore has become so synonymous with the word female that they may not know respect is something they deserve.
They are growing up in a time where debates on whether to introduce contraceptives in Primary school actually exist; a time where sex is so desensitized, being a virgin at fourteen is considered uncool. A time that will not focus on what they have done or can do for society but on who they are dating and whether or not they are curvy enough. Things that should not matter to them but nevertheless what they are fed everywhere they turn. I saw a half-page botox ad on a national newspaper the other day. Then the sad realization dawned that we can never go back to the simpler ways. We have become so westernized we seem to have contracted some world class problems as well.
As I assessed my fears I remembered the earlier, simpler days, when I would taunt my youngest sister about her dark skin just to get a rise out of her. Now I worry if she will know it was childish mockery or will she think that I too have conspired with the world to label her unattractive. Back then we would play shirtless, the three of us, in front of our dad, not a care in the world. Oh I miss those days. Now they are replaced with days in front of the mirror as we worry about whose boobs are fuller. Such a stupid thing to worry about, you would think.
My two sisters; one is nineteen the other is fourteen. They are becoming women. How will I teach them to be women when I am so conflicted myself? When I am just learning too? There is only so much your mother can teach you. The world does the rest. Thing is, I am afraid of what the world has to teach the two most important people in my life.
Destiny is out of our control. We can never quite tell how we are going to end up and looking back at my earlier days and all my expectations and dreams and hopes, I seem to now be on an entirely different track. I used to expect many things. When I was still in primary school I never once thought I would date anyone from my race. That’s the polite way to put it. Subtlety aside, I did not think I would ever date anyone who wasn’t well, white! Forgive my naivety if I may call it, I was about eleven. Still, I wouldn’t find myself looking at any of the guys I grew up with. This went on well into my early teen years. Looking back now I am not able to quite explain that phase. Maybe it was the movies I watched. As I said in my earlier post, Hollywood movies made up most of my childhood. No surprise then that my first real crush was this little white boy I used to watch on KBC, the name of the program escapes my memory. Back then of course I did not know what a crush was and the feelings all so new to me left no mark on my innocence. Back then I thought I just really wanted to play with the boy you know, make him my best friend. I never quite got over that boy whose name I do not remember and sometimes I dream of a 10 year old me, still pretty much in love with him. My fascination with white boys went on for a while and Kenyan boys only seemed to freak me out. I could not quite understand their weird and somewhat crude mannerisms. As I write this I am suddenly beginning to question my parent’s liberal attitude towards my upbringing. Maybe I should have watched less movies and spent more time outside with these “crude” boys. I left that to my younger sisters though; I preferred to live in my own little world, real or otherwise. I digress too much. My point is, there is really no way of knowing how things eventually turn out, destiny listens to no one. Which explains why reminiscing on a 10 year old me is rather mind blowing and somewhat comical. I have never once dated a white guy and I have had my fair share of boyfriends. My own kind is not so crude now huh?
Which brings me back to the other day when someone asked what I was doing this Friday and I simply replied nothing; and so we decided to hang out then. Two days later I hear someone mention Valentine’s Day and Friday in the same sentence and I realized what I had done. I had gotten myself a Valentines date without even the slightest idea that there was such a thing. Now I pride myself in being a hopeless romantic. One of my favourite movies is “50 First Dates” and I’ll choose a romantic comedy over almost anything else. I love LOVE and admittedly I am in love with the idea of being in love. Yeah I am quite the typical girl in some ways. So the fact that I had no idea when Valentine’s Day was, two days to it, is simply put, quite offensive to the hopeless romantic in me. And I wasn’t always like this either. I used to hold the day of love sacred whether or not I was single at the time. I would even don the ceremonial red colour and take in all the love in the air. The roses, the chocolate, the couples, *sigh* a perfect day despite all its imperfections. That was then. Now, I seem to have lost the spirit. It’s simply gone. I have no attitude or feelings towards the day of love and it’s so bad that I didn’t even have a clue what day it was on. Quite frankly I’d rather not do anything on Friday but sleep in because I have to work Saturday. As for my date, well I am yet to figure out what to do about that one. So how and when did I get here? When did I become one of those people I could not previously understand? The answer must be destiny. One of those things that you could not see coming, that you cannot explain, but that you become anyway. I do not hate it but I do not love it either. I am simply indifferent about Valentine’s Day. All part of growing up I guess. Or maybe it’s just a phase, like my white boy phase.
Oh well, so I found out it is Valentine’s Day this Friday, what have you done with your week so far?
Dear guardian angel,
Let me start by saying I am a troubled soul. I am restless and frustrated and when I sleep I see things, flying things, things that mock me. So I am writing to you for I am not very happy with you guardian angel. You have forsaken me and for the life of me I cannot figure out why. You have failed in your duties to protect me from the evils of this world and I must admit I have not come across a greater evil in my short years on this earth. I feel mocked angel, by a bird. Yes angel I said a bird. You do not understand this is no ordinary bird. I mean yes it is the most idiotic looking bird I have ever seen but it is ruining me. I cannot fathom why I simply cannot get past a score of 6. Six sir! And it pains, it pains me for it is only a game and games are supposed to be fun! Instead, this one mocks me. 6 guardian angel, my best score is 1-2-3-4-5-6! It is not that I have not tried. Sometimes I do not eat; I have no time for that angel, not with this quest that haunts me.
At night when I sleep, I have terrible dreams of things that fly. I do not know what these things are angel I only know that they eat unborn babies right from the mother’s womb. They just tear her open, and eat the baby! See in these dreams I am always pregnant angel. Always! And you know what terrifies me most about them sir? It is that they fly! They fly right through the air never once encountering a pipe! They just FLY! And then suddenly they turn and start laughing at me. These things, they start to laugh at me angel, because they know my score. They know about my 6! I’m afraid if I have this dream again I might not be able to wake up.
I’ve heard rumours, that it is the devil’s game. So why did you not protect me guardian angel? I just wanted to play a game, and now I won’t stop losing yet I can’t stop playing! Do you know what happens when you lose for so long angel? I do not know either but I am afraid to find out. That is why you must save me angel. Save me from this flapping bird!
Sometimes I wonder, why its head is so big, its eyes so huge and yet its wings miniscule. And why does it have lips angel? Birds do not have lips. Maybe it’s a puzzle I must solve, to overcome my curse of 6! Yes am obsessive with the 6 angel, it makes me feel like that’s my IQ count!
I have had happier days angel. I have lived a good and kind life. Angel I am pretty sure no past deed of mine affords me this karma. So do your job and save me. Save me from this ridiculous looking bird before I lose my mind or worse, crush my Galaxy S4. You know I just upgraded from my Mulika Mwizi.
Thank you for listening to my flappy bird woes. I trust action will be taken.
Okay let me start by confessing that no viewer discretion is necessary, I only said that to get your attention. My apologies. Now that we have that tackled here we go.
So I watched “The Wolf Wall Street” the other day. I knew “The Wolf Of Wall Street” and I were destined to meet the minute I heard they had banned it in Kenya. I had heard about the movie a few times before but I wasn’t quite listening, not until someone mentioned the word ban. I did not care if it was about werewolves attacking Wall Street or just something about a pack of wolves in suits, all I knew is that I had to watch it. Reason, because I am human. I am specifically engineered to want to do something more the minute you say no to me and so as no fault of mine, “The Wolf Wall Street” automatically got a number one spot on my must watch list.
Admittedly, I see why the Kenya Film Board would ban it but before I continue I feel that it is crucial that I point out, Leonardo was on a boat again, and yes it almost capsized. There’s about a million jokes somewhere in there. I mean I’m a huge Leonardo fan and if ever I was to meet him Lord knows I would follow him to the moon if he asked me, we could even walk there if he wanted. But everyone knows there’s one thing you don’t do and it’s get on a boat with Leo, call me stupid but remember Paul Walker (rest his soul)? Yes these things do happen.
Now where was I? Yes, I get why they banned “The Wolf Wall Street” here I mean damn, truth be told the movie does push a lot of drug abuse from coke to Ludes (which I now know exist thanks to the movie) and it also seems to look quite positively on divorce, cheating on your wife with hookers and flying a plane when you’re half passed out. Now these are all admittedly pretty bad behaviour but they’re rich people problems, problems I doubt the middle class Kenyan can afford to have! I mean really how often are we faced with the dilemma of landing our helicopter safely on our front yard? Okay let’s start small, how many of us actually have front yards? And that’s my point right there, most of the immoralities that the Kenya Film Board is trying to save us from are immoralities that we can’t actually afford so really there’s no need!
Instead here’s what I think the Kenya Film Board should do, they should make every Kenyan above 21 watch that movie! Yes that’s my ingenious idea and don’t judge, I only get one once every three years. I mean if you look past all the sex and drugs and hookers, “The Wolf Wall Street” is simply a story about a middle class guy (aren’t we all?) who was given only one small opportunity and turned it into a gold mine. Of all his vices the only thing he is truly addicted to is money and that’s an addiction I feel a number of us could use; maybe we wouldn’t be so mediocre after all. How many of us are actually able to see when opportunities are looking at them right in the eye? The thing is some opportunities look too small to be of any benefit, truth is every opportunity counts. I watched Jodan Belfort (Leonardo) turn stock pink sheets into a billion dollar corporation. For me, that’s the only lesson that remained. I also learnt to think outside the box, to always sound like a professional, to dress for success and to work hard like my life depended on it. I also got a slight idea of how the stock market actually works. The “Wolf Of Wall Street” was more like “Project X” (which I mean if we’re gonna ban movies…) but with an all-I-need-to-know guide on how to be successful, minus the illegal stuff at the end.
“I want you to deal with all your problems by becoming rich! I want you to attack your problems head-on! I want you to go out and start spending money right now. I want you to leverage yourself. I want you to back yourself into a corner. Give yourself no choice but to succeed. Let the consequences of failure become so dire and so unthinkable that you’ll have no choice but to do whatever it takes to succeed.” – Jordan Belfort
Thing is, if you put your mind in the right place, there are only good lessons to learn from “The Wolf Wall Street”’. One of them being (I insist), don’t get on a damn boat with Leonardo DiCarprio!
Here’s something worth checking out:
What will they say about me, a hundred years from now?
What will they know about me?
Will I be in their books, their libraries?
Will they teach their kids about me?
Will they know my name or will it be as if I never existed?
Will I be just another soul that lived a banal life?
Will I do nothing with my days yet still hope to reach the stars?
Will I hold back my voice and follow?
Too afraid to stand out?
Too afraid to fail?
What do they have that God denied me?
Martin Luther, Mandela, Lupita
What do they have that I lack?
I want my place history
I need my place in history