I believe music is the language of words we cannot say. It is the voice of the soul, the words that our hearts would never speak.
My pal once updated her status "Music always means more when it means something to you!" or something to that effect. For me, music is an important part of my life. Mostly because it feels up the blank spaces and if it has something to say to me, the better.That's why I have an affinity to rock and other strange genres that don't talk about shoes, booty, cribs or grills.
Yesterday I was on a mad Kidum craze. Not quite the whole album (and it is a great album) but the song "Haturudi Nyuma Kamwe". It was in my head for hours so I started playing it on a loop like I play most songs that are in my head. Eventually the guy in the office who sits across from me started looking at me funny. I am the type who sings out loud when my earphones are on and he's the type who points everything out using big words no one understands. Needless to say, we rub each other the wrong way.
After you listen to a song one too many times, it will start developing meaning. Suddenly you just want to sing to your neighbour and the mat driver, "haturudi nyuma kamwe,unayo nafasi ya kujikosoa...ukiniacha mi nitalia" I did not like that the song was started to associate itself with things and people and thoughts. So instead of doing what I was supposed to do in the evening, I ran home to find a replacement song. My machine is a maze of music I never listen to so it took some time to find something to fill in the blank space in my head.
So I get home, run to my room like a violence victim and start scrawling through the machine for something appropriate. I really didn't want to listen to the "Te Amo"s and the"Unthinkable"s because I'd eventually start "thinking" of my "te amos". Not exactly the direction I wanted to go.....
A couple of hours,minutes or seconds later (my concept of time was a bit fuzzy) I came across something I haven't watched in a really long time. This song isn't the best replacement to Kidum. Mostly because it was saying the exact words I was running away from but the choreography behind it blows me away every single time. So I will invite you into my world and my head for a little bit today.
What is playing in my head today:
Kidum- Number moja
Script-The man who can't be moved
Life is what happens when you're busy waiting for life to happen!
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
The one that won't get away!
Plagiarising should be my third middle name by now (I am african I have many middle names!). Two articles caught my eye that I thought I should share with my few fans. Again amazing writer from amazing people!Read them in succession if they are going to make any sense.
http://raymondchepkwony.wordpress.com/2010/09/24/the-one-that-got-away/
http://raymondchepkwony.wordpress.com/2010/09/28/mistakes-past-lessons-learnt-a-story-told/
http://raymondchepkwony.wordpress.com/2010/09/24/the-one-that-got-away/
http://raymondchepkwony.wordpress.com/2010/09/28/mistakes-past-lessons-learnt-a-story-told/
Monday, September 27, 2010
Finally letting go.
I've started writing this article 5 times today. Every sentence seems so blown out of proportion. Like what I'm feeling is exaggerated above and beyond what I'm supposed to be feeling. I'm not an emotional person per se or at least don't go around displaying my emotions on my forehead so when emotion floods in like a broken dam, I get the feeling that I will do something I will regret. Usually I do end up doing regrettable acts. They don't make me feel better or more accomplished but I do feel like I tried to fight back.
There's only one person who throws me off balance and makes me doubt myself. One person who brings out my emotions to their true ultimate. So much so that I prefer to avoid this person like the plague. Or at least as much as I can. Every idea, every move, every thought process always seems to fall slightly short of her expectations. So I usually tell the people who will make me feel good about my "grand" ideas, put flesh on it, offer constructive criticism and then when the plans are solid and ready to roll, I present them to her to see how quickly she can tear them apart. Then I start all over again.
She's a big part of my life and I love her to bits but sometimes even that isn't enough to stop the feeling that I am not quite making the cut. My thoughts on this is that when I came into her life, she quite expected me to be like her. We would share ideals and career talks and principles. I would be everything she was and then some. Unfortunately, no two people are alike. Similar but not alike. The two of us......let's just say the similarity ends with the DNA and melanin content.
We all have people we try to live up to. The Pope, Obama, Mother Teresa, Bill Gates.Everything we do is directed towards that person. Everything that I am or am not is directed towards this person. Every life choice I make and have ever made all boils down to what I think she will think. I may be stubborn but I'm not naturally rebellious. Sometimes the line between the two becomes fuzzy. Eventually I gave up on the line. I will not deny that I have a lot that I owe to her but at some point, I figure I might have to change my focus elsewhere. At least if I intend to make something of myself beyond who I am now.
The self-doubt of everything I do can't be good for my future or my career. Even when there are no complaints, I still feel like there's something that could have been done better. I may be driven by fear but a little less fear wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen to me. Maybe it'll even do me some good.
I think I use her as a crutch though. For my under-achievements. For my fear to follow my ambitions or even discover what those ambitions are. I want to see what could happen without that crutch. Would my life turn out to be that much worse? Will the independence from her that I so desperately desire be my downfall? What if I don't like what I end up finding on the other side? Well I guess I'll never know unless I try.
There's only one person who throws me off balance and makes me doubt myself. One person who brings out my emotions to their true ultimate. So much so that I prefer to avoid this person like the plague. Or at least as much as I can. Every idea, every move, every thought process always seems to fall slightly short of her expectations. So I usually tell the people who will make me feel good about my "grand" ideas, put flesh on it, offer constructive criticism and then when the plans are solid and ready to roll, I present them to her to see how quickly she can tear them apart. Then I start all over again.
She's a big part of my life and I love her to bits but sometimes even that isn't enough to stop the feeling that I am not quite making the cut. My thoughts on this is that when I came into her life, she quite expected me to be like her. We would share ideals and career talks and principles. I would be everything she was and then some. Unfortunately, no two people are alike. Similar but not alike. The two of us......let's just say the similarity ends with the DNA and melanin content.
We all have people we try to live up to. The Pope, Obama, Mother Teresa, Bill Gates.Everything we do is directed towards that person. Everything that I am or am not is directed towards this person. Every life choice I make and have ever made all boils down to what I think she will think. I may be stubborn but I'm not naturally rebellious. Sometimes the line between the two becomes fuzzy. Eventually I gave up on the line. I will not deny that I have a lot that I owe to her but at some point, I figure I might have to change my focus elsewhere. At least if I intend to make something of myself beyond who I am now.
The self-doubt of everything I do can't be good for my future or my career. Even when there are no complaints, I still feel like there's something that could have been done better. I may be driven by fear but a little less fear wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen to me. Maybe it'll even do me some good.
I think I use her as a crutch though. For my under-achievements. For my fear to follow my ambitions or even discover what those ambitions are. I want to see what could happen without that crutch. Would my life turn out to be that much worse? Will the independence from her that I so desperately desire be my downfall? What if I don't like what I end up finding on the other side? Well I guess I'll never know unless I try.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
The Classic Story
He was a player. She was the classic girl next door.
That's how most stories start. Right?! Of course. But sincerely, this is how it started. He never imagined he was the settling down type. All she saw in her future was a good home, a good family and a good job. So when they met, the relationship angle was a bit random to them. To him, she was going to be his biggest conquest yet. The world was a playing field and the prize had to be the biggest he could find.
She was one of those girls that attracted men just by being alive. She was ridiculously pretty, she was amazingly bright and she had one of those calm auras that seemed to put people around her instantly at ease. He was the adult who never quite took his A.D.D medication as a child. He was everywhere all the time doing everything. I guess you could say he was just a normal budding male youth.
So when they met, or at least when he finally told his boys he was going "to take that one down", she was not as receptive as he expected. That's the thing with these young boys. They have a cocky element that could be bottled and sold in a shop. To say he was aghast was to understate his state of mind. When she snubbed him that first time, he decided that this was a challenge he would not let up. The game had officially began. She decided she couldn't trust him as far as she could throw him. And trust me, she couldn't throw him very far.
So he started charming her in the only way he knew how. Ice creams and movies. Walking her home, sitting around aimlessly while she read, he even occasionally accompanied her to church. But slowly the game stopped being a game and for reasons he can still not explain, the game turned into a relationship. Sadly, they were still young and emotions were always fragile and flaring under the surface. So the highs were just as frequent and as intense as the lows. Way too intense. They fought as hard as they loved. Eventually and inevitably, the first break up happened. Blame it on his youth, blame it on his inability to express his emotions, blame it on his background and his boys, but he did not handle it very well and she walked away without looking back..................or so she thought.
A few months or years later they bumped into each other. They had both grown quite a bit since the fight and had somewhat moved on to other more stable people. But that didn't make the moment any less awkward. They exchanged pleasantries and sighed with relief when the encounter ended and they went on their merry ways. Somehow Karma disliked them enough to make their lives miserable. So suddenly they were in each others faces everywhere, all the time. They couldn't seem to get far away from each other. Soon they began talking like old friends. He missed her flat stomach. She missed someone who truly listened to her. No sooner than......they were back together. Her girls hated him, his boys couldn't care less. They did however acknowledge that he was good for her.
The more they broke up, the quicker they made up until soon they would break up in the morning and make up by lunch time. Her battery of men still called hoping she had walked away from the "punk" and occasionally he wondered what life was like on the other side. But all in all his mind always went back to her. No one will ever know whether it was because his house was always clean when she was around or that she never worried about transport when he was around. No one will ever know whether it was because of her great head massages when he was tired or his miraculous foot rubs after she had been standing around all day but somewhere in the course of things, he walked into a shop and ordered for a ring.
He proposed in this classic story like in any other. Down on his knees (I am tempted to say he grovelled for her hand in marriage but I shall refrain). At that moment like in many more after, he couldn't believe his luck when she said yes! She didn't expect it. God only knows why. They had been together long enough for it to go only one of two ways and he chose the one that would make her happiest. She told everyone immediately, he smiled like the cat who finally reached far enough into the bowl to catch the overfed gold fish.
Was it the classic Prince Charming story? Probably not. But it was their story. The story they would tell their grand kids and their great grand kids. Everyone would uuuu!and ahhh! and sigh. The small boys would snort in disgust and the little girls would dream in wonder.So as she looked for something blue and something old and he looked for something new and something shiny, they'd look back and think if they made it this far, they can make it to the ends of eternity.
This is my tribute to all y'all out there who are making this leap of unimagined faith into your futures. God bless your unions eternally!
Monday, September 20, 2010
She writes
She writes to hide
and she writes to show off.
She writes to hide her fears and occasionally to show her strengths.
She writes to decrease her pains and hide from her shame.
She writes to express her joys and to celebrate her victories.
She writes for the poor and she writes for the rich.
She writes for the hurting and she writes for the happy.
All night she will write until her ink runs dry.
She writes for power,
She writes for weakness,
She writes all she knows
and sometimes,
She writes all she doesn't.
All day, she writes some more.
She writes for her loved ones,
She writes of her enemies,
She writes for lost acquaintances,
And she writes of smiling strangers.
She writes for the forgotten,
She writes of the remembered.
She writes of all she can.
She writes when she's lonely,
She writes when she's overwhelmed,
She writes to relieve pressure,
She writes to reduce her stress.
She writes words she cannot speak,
She writes of moments she cannot express,
She writes so that every one will notice her,
She writes so that no one will recognise her.
She writes for herself,
She writes of herself.
She writes of stories that she needs to share.
She writes and writes and writes.
She writes for you and me.
and she writes to show off.
She writes to hide her fears and occasionally to show her strengths.
She writes to decrease her pains and hide from her shame.
She writes to express her joys and to celebrate her victories.
She writes for the poor and she writes for the rich.
She writes for the hurting and she writes for the happy.
All night she will write until her ink runs dry.
She writes for power,
She writes for weakness,
She writes all she knows
and sometimes,
She writes all she doesn't.
All day, she writes some more.
She writes for her loved ones,
She writes of her enemies,
She writes for lost acquaintances,
And she writes of smiling strangers.
She writes for the forgotten,
She writes of the remembered.
She writes of all she can.
She writes when she's lonely,
She writes when she's overwhelmed,
She writes to relieve pressure,
She writes to reduce her stress.
She writes words she cannot speak,
She writes of moments she cannot express,
She writes so that every one will notice her,
She writes so that no one will recognise her.
She writes for herself,
She writes of herself.
She writes of stories that she needs to share.
She writes and writes and writes.
She writes for you and me.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
This far He has brought me.
When I was a kid and leaving in a fairy tale in my head, all I ever wanted to be was a long distance truck driver. I wanted to be that high up above the world driving the most powerful machine on the road. The travel fascinated me and I didn't care that I was a small girl and small girls don't operate heavy machinery. I just really really wanted to be a long distance truck driver. The dream later changed to being a pilot. Probably the travel thing was still a fascination. Eventually, this is what I settled on. An architect with little travel experience and not that exciting a life.
Occasionally when I'm on Waiyaki way and I'm really trying to get away from the trucks that always look like they are about to tip over, I wonder what its like up there (STD statistics not withstanding). I still want to travel. A lot. But now I want to travel for different reasons and I definitely don't want to do it in a truck cabin.
Like my dream job, a lot of things have changed in the couple of decades that I have roamed the earth. Well, roam is a slight stretch so .....in the couple of decades I have watched the world unfold.. Friends have come and gone, I grew up and got hormones, priorities have moved from trucks to academics to business and probably will move right back to trucks, stable reliability has taken over spontaneity and suddenly like I thief in the night I have grown up.
There are people I know now I never thought I'd ever meet and I have lost people I thought I'll grow old with. But such is life. It changes from one moment to the next. Like the wind, you are just never too sure what it will bring. Ideally, life is supposed to be good for the good and bad for the bad and for us who lie in a confused middle, its just supposed to be confused and average. Ideally,we are supposed to wake up knowing what tomorrow will hold. If I work hard today I'll be a millionaire tomorrow, if I hang out in this club, I'll meet people who will re-define my business, if I learn how to cook and clean and put on make-up, I'll be proposed to by 4 random strangers before tomorrow... :D
But I wonder if God knew that I'd be here now writing this. Knowing the people I know, doing the things I do, going to the places I go to. When I was nurturing the impossible dream of driving a 22-wheeler, did He know that this person that I am today was going to be the final outcome. I know about free will (eat the apple if you must but know that consequences shall surely follow). How much of that free will did I exercise and did I make the choices that He needed me to make? Is He even remotely pleased with the woman I have ended up becoming?
I know I'm a big albeit closet advocate for going back to the past and trying to change regrets and things done wrong (I have always wanted to use the word "albeit". and now I'm just wondering whether that was how I was supposed to use it)but I wonder if I'd still end up where I am now. Does our impossible stubbornness really make a difference or does He just want us to think that we are the makers of our destinies while He goes ahead and shapes them for us?
This far He has brought me and I don't doubt He will take me much further. Something that I tend to forget. I am truly blessed even with my endless list of complaints about what should or shouldn't have gone wrong. All my shoulda, coulda, woulda. I have a decent set of friends, I have a place I call home, I have a family less dysfunctional than most, a place I call a workplace and a dream for a future I can hold onto. Maybe I am not the person I thought I would be, maybe I do not have all the things I thought I should have by now but I am only human. I cannot change what I have or who I am. At least not on my own. And truth be told, it is highly unlikely that I would be in a much better place than I am now. If I had my destiny in my own hands, who knows? I'd probably be a sick truck driver with road rage and a sizeable gut.
This far He has brought me, this far He has shaped my dreams. It may not be enough for my over-ambitious mind but it is enough for Him and that's what matters. He has loved me enough not to let me fall. I hope...no, I have faith that He will love me enough to take me much further.
Occasionally when I'm on Waiyaki way and I'm really trying to get away from the trucks that always look like they are about to tip over, I wonder what its like up there (STD statistics not withstanding). I still want to travel. A lot. But now I want to travel for different reasons and I definitely don't want to do it in a truck cabin.
Like my dream job, a lot of things have changed in the couple of decades that I have roamed the earth. Well, roam is a slight stretch so .....in the couple of decades I have watched the world unfold.. Friends have come and gone, I grew up and got hormones, priorities have moved from trucks to academics to business and probably will move right back to trucks, stable reliability has taken over spontaneity and suddenly like I thief in the night I have grown up.
There are people I know now I never thought I'd ever meet and I have lost people I thought I'll grow old with. But such is life. It changes from one moment to the next. Like the wind, you are just never too sure what it will bring. Ideally, life is supposed to be good for the good and bad for the bad and for us who lie in a confused middle, its just supposed to be confused and average. Ideally,we are supposed to wake up knowing what tomorrow will hold. If I work hard today I'll be a millionaire tomorrow, if I hang out in this club, I'll meet people who will re-define my business, if I learn how to cook and clean and put on make-up, I'll be proposed to by 4 random strangers before tomorrow... :D
But I wonder if God knew that I'd be here now writing this. Knowing the people I know, doing the things I do, going to the places I go to. When I was nurturing the impossible dream of driving a 22-wheeler, did He know that this person that I am today was going to be the final outcome. I know about free will (eat the apple if you must but know that consequences shall surely follow). How much of that free will did I exercise and did I make the choices that He needed me to make? Is He even remotely pleased with the woman I have ended up becoming?
I know I'm a big albeit closet advocate for going back to the past and trying to change regrets and things done wrong (I have always wanted to use the word "albeit". and now I'm just wondering whether that was how I was supposed to use it)but I wonder if I'd still end up where I am now. Does our impossible stubbornness really make a difference or does He just want us to think that we are the makers of our destinies while He goes ahead and shapes them for us?
This far He has brought me and I don't doubt He will take me much further. Something that I tend to forget. I am truly blessed even with my endless list of complaints about what should or shouldn't have gone wrong. All my shoulda, coulda, woulda. I have a decent set of friends, I have a place I call home, I have a family less dysfunctional than most, a place I call a workplace and a dream for a future I can hold onto. Maybe I am not the person I thought I would be, maybe I do not have all the things I thought I should have by now but I am only human. I cannot change what I have or who I am. At least not on my own. And truth be told, it is highly unlikely that I would be in a much better place than I am now. If I had my destiny in my own hands, who knows? I'd probably be a sick truck driver with road rage and a sizeable gut.
This far He has brought me, this far He has shaped my dreams. It may not be enough for my over-ambitious mind but it is enough for Him and that's what matters. He has loved me enough not to let me fall. I hope...no, I have faith that He will love me enough to take me much further.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Every single one counts.
I read an article on Sunday that broke my heart. It was written by a foreign correspondent who had recently been watching a documentary on Zimbabwe's Forgotten Children. It talked about children who were living in such dire states that they spent the bulk of their day fending for their families. These, mind you, are not teenage children. They were 9,10 and even 6 years old. Going to the mines to pan for gold, begging in the streets and selling their souls. According to the article, out of the thousands who enrol in schools in Zim, only about 100 children end up being able to afford the paltry fees that was necessary. Bright young children being locked out of schools and their fates being sealed by their poverty. A poverty they neither asked for nor desired. It was a humbling read.
A few children did benefit from the documentary. At least those who happened to be in the right place at the right time and had their stories told to the world. But the author of this article asked "For every one child that is helped how many others are being locked out of a future? How long will this assistance continue?". Here's my reply. We can't help them all.
Our country like Zimbabwe and Uganda and Congo and scores of other countries have poverty levels that not only put us to shame but continue growing at uncontrollable speeds. We can blame the government or the stars or Adam and Eve for the predicament that we are in but that never solved problems. In fact in its own way, it fuels an already precarious situation. The worst part about our parts of the world is that more often than not, most of the people who go around pointing fingers come from wealthy backgrounds and seen=m to have no tolerance or awareness for the poverty that surrounds them daily.
To me, every single child helped by anyone is important. Every single child fed and clothed and educated regardless of level of education is one step closer to a more stable future. Every child is a generation on their own. Joseph Lekuton, appeared on a revolutionary talk show called "Ted Talks" and talked about his rise from abject poverty to being a professor in Virginia and currently a member of Parliament for a place so remote, I heard it for the first time with him. If his records are to be believed, he has transformed a place that had no hope of a future to something that can be described as a miracle of nature. The reason for this is that someone somewhere, decades ago decided that children from this small nomadic community up North needed to go to school. He fed them lunch which was usually their only meal and educated them. A decision that has changed a generation.
I'd like to believe he is not the only one. Poverty has brought up from the ashes great and powerful men and women of society. So what happens to the other children if you help only one? My question is this: what happens to the one if you never help him? What kind of leader have you killed if you don't think that it is important to only help one child. We can't all be Bill Gates and channel billions of funds into CSR. And even then, with all his money, he can't help every single child and poor person in the world. So if you can keep one child from the street and put them in a classroom, if you can drum up support to provide for just one child even if just for a while, you can without a doubt make a difference. We don't have to help everybody because we really can't. We are still human after all and need to earn our own keep and build our own futures. But with the abundances and surpluses that we have, we could try and make a difference.
I'm not sure about figures but for a few in society figures are nothing but numbers on paper. I know my heart may just bleed for this week and then I'll find something more mundane to occupy my mind. But I hope this article goes a little beyond me. That someone, anyone really, would read it and want to make a difference to someone's future. After all we all have a role to play in the future of our country. Why not get a few bright young minds to help you along.
Monday, September 13, 2010
The Fetish
It just stood there staring at me. Looking mighty fine for all the world to see. Ok!not for the world to see. It was just me and my imagination was running wild about it taunting me. I can bet you if it could talk, I can bet you today my status would be reading "Wairimu Maina has changed her status to 'bebwad kama kuku sama'". Thank God for small mercies and the smaller one that the people around me couldn't read minds.
The day started rather normally as usual. I had no plans set for that day other than the bank. I had told myself I was going to buy a book called "Purple Hibiscus", probably go get my toe nails did then read my book at Java while I waited out the "chama" that was taking place at home. My brother had pretty much taken over my room that morning so I had no laptop, TV or bed for that matter. My plans were sound and well intentioned. So off to town I set off. Shorts, slippers and a wallet. Like I said, just and well intentioned. So when I got to town and found that not a single place was open, including the book shop, I had to change plans. And boy did the plans change!!
That is when I met my fetish. Red rims, white exterior and an engine that purrs like a lion in the Mara. I have never told the owner this but if I had been born in the hills of Murang'a instead of in the Suburbs of Nairobi, his car would be in some serious danger. I had been in it, I had been around it but I had never been where it really mattered. Behind the wheel. And suddenly the opportunity fell on my lap. (Quite like a lot of things that weekend!)
There was a need for a driver for the fetish and who was I to scorn opportunity in the face. When I'm given a car, I prefer not to drive it the first time with the owner glaring at me from the passenger seat. Fear is not an incentive to understanding a car. So I stood there staring at the driver's door wondering if the same rules of driving apply to the fetish or did I need to first go for special classes where a ritual is done as I was bestowed with the keys. Since I wasn't called into a ritual, I figured clutch ndani, turn the key, put it in gear and ease off without too much drama. When he gave me the keys and I slid into the driver, my only thought was "if you stall baby, I will kick you in the engine!"
Then the best part of the drive came....Langata Road. It was just me, the car and the open road. Now I could really feel the car by myself. No noise beyond the enging. The peak of the car, the growl of the revs, the changing of gear, the heavy pedals....it was like I was in a quiet bubble where there were no problems and me and fetish lived in pure bliss. Given half the chance I'd have driven to Mombasa just to test its performance. For a few moments there, we understood each other. We were one. It was everything I wanted minus the clutch that occasionally refused to co-operate. Probably because of its sheer weight and my not so strong foot on it.
Eventually the dream did come to an end. Down Langata Road, up Upper Hill and into Westlands with a bunch of passengers whose powers of direction were quite questionable. (I love y'all but good people, next time you are all squeezing yourselves in the back seat!!) That was so much better than reading a book in Java and queueing at the bank in a move to put myself into more financial turmoil. Plans did head way way South after Westlands. Me and my well intentioned shorts included. But truly truly sometime in the distant future I will own me a Subaru then I can enjoy my fetish every single day (minus weekends, servicing and when my brother steals it!)
The day started rather normally as usual. I had no plans set for that day other than the bank. I had told myself I was going to buy a book called "Purple Hibiscus", probably go get my toe nails did then read my book at Java while I waited out the "chama" that was taking place at home. My brother had pretty much taken over my room that morning so I had no laptop, TV or bed for that matter. My plans were sound and well intentioned. So off to town I set off. Shorts, slippers and a wallet. Like I said, just and well intentioned. So when I got to town and found that not a single place was open, including the book shop, I had to change plans. And boy did the plans change!!
That is when I met my fetish. Red rims, white exterior and an engine that purrs like a lion in the Mara. I have never told the owner this but if I had been born in the hills of Murang'a instead of in the Suburbs of Nairobi, his car would be in some serious danger. I had been in it, I had been around it but I had never been where it really mattered. Behind the wheel. And suddenly the opportunity fell on my lap. (Quite like a lot of things that weekend!)
There was a need for a driver for the fetish and who was I to scorn opportunity in the face. When I'm given a car, I prefer not to drive it the first time with the owner glaring at me from the passenger seat. Fear is not an incentive to understanding a car. So I stood there staring at the driver's door wondering if the same rules of driving apply to the fetish or did I need to first go for special classes where a ritual is done as I was bestowed with the keys. Since I wasn't called into a ritual, I figured clutch ndani, turn the key, put it in gear and ease off without too much drama. When he gave me the keys and I slid into the driver, my only thought was "if you stall baby, I will kick you in the engine!"
Then the best part of the drive came....Langata Road. It was just me, the car and the open road. Now I could really feel the car by myself. No noise beyond the enging. The peak of the car, the growl of the revs, the changing of gear, the heavy pedals....it was like I was in a quiet bubble where there were no problems and me and fetish lived in pure bliss. Given half the chance I'd have driven to Mombasa just to test its performance. For a few moments there, we understood each other. We were one. It was everything I wanted minus the clutch that occasionally refused to co-operate. Probably because of its sheer weight and my not so strong foot on it.
Eventually the dream did come to an end. Down Langata Road, up Upper Hill and into Westlands with a bunch of passengers whose powers of direction were quite questionable. (I love y'all but good people, next time you are all squeezing yourselves in the back seat!!) That was so much better than reading a book in Java and queueing at the bank in a move to put myself into more financial turmoil. Plans did head way way South after Westlands. Me and my well intentioned shorts included. But truly truly sometime in the distant future I will own me a Subaru then I can enjoy my fetish every single day (minus weekends, servicing and when my brother steals it!)
Friday, September 10, 2010
Made to Love You
I haven't been able to write for a while. At least not about anything important and non self pitying. I'm in some sort of "time space" where everything just seems really far away like I'm floating above everything and things are happening somewhere just beyond my grasp. I don't know how I got into this "time space". Everyone has a place they run to when they are this uninspired and disillusioned by life. Or at least I hope that everyone has somewhere they run to. I tend to run inwards. Somewhere inside me, I try to find something to revive me. That is usually where I find God. So lately it's been me and my God buried somewhere deep inside. Here's a little song we came across while we were out searching for myself.
The dream is fading, now I'm staring at the door
I know its over cause my feet have hit the cold floor
Check my reflection, I ain't feelin what I see
It's no mystery
Whatever happened to a passion I could live for
What became of the flame that made me feel more
And when did I forget that...
I was made to love you
I was made to find you
I was made just for you
Made to adore you
I was made to love
And be loved by you
You were here before me
You were waiting on me
And you said you'd keep me
Never would you leave me I was made to love
and be loved by you
The dream's alive with my eyes opened wide
Back in the ring you've got me swinging for the grand prize
I feel the haters spittin vapors on my dreams
But I still believe
I'm reachin out, reachin up, reachin over
I feel a breeze cover me called Jehovah
And daddy I'm on my way
Cause I was made to love...
I was made to love you
I was made to find you
I was made just for you
Made to adore you
I was made to love
And be loved by you
You were here before me
You were waiting on me
And you said you'd keep me
Never would you leave me I was made to love
and be loved by you
I was made to love you
I was made just for you
Made to adore you
I was made to love
And be loved by you
You were here before me
You were waiting on me
And you said you'd keep me
Never would you leave me I was made to love
and be loved by you
Anything I would give up for you
Everything, I'd give it all away
Anything I would give up for you
Everything, I'd give it all away
Anything I would give up for you
Everything, I'd give it, I'd give it all away, Oh yeah
Cause I was made to love you (I was made to love you)
Yeah I was made to love you (I was made to find you)
Cause I was made to love you (I was made to adore you, made just for you)
I was made to love you (I was made to adore you, made just for you)
Cause I was made to love you (I was made to adore you, made just for you)
I was made to love you (I was made to adore you)
Yeah I'm loved by you
Yeah I'm loved by you
Yeah I' m loved by you
(Made to Love You- Tobymac)
Watch the video on:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aBaX1T4VxOw
The dream is fading, now I'm staring at the door
I know its over cause my feet have hit the cold floor
Check my reflection, I ain't feelin what I see
It's no mystery
Whatever happened to a passion I could live for
What became of the flame that made me feel more
And when did I forget that...
I was made to love you
I was made to find you
I was made just for you
Made to adore you
I was made to love
And be loved by you
You were here before me
You were waiting on me
And you said you'd keep me
Never would you leave me I was made to love
and be loved by you
The dream's alive with my eyes opened wide
Back in the ring you've got me swinging for the grand prize
I feel the haters spittin vapors on my dreams
But I still believe
I'm reachin out, reachin up, reachin over
I feel a breeze cover me called Jehovah
And daddy I'm on my way
Cause I was made to love...
I was made to love you
I was made to find you
I was made just for you
Made to adore you
I was made to love
And be loved by you
You were here before me
You were waiting on me
And you said you'd keep me
Never would you leave me I was made to love
and be loved by you
I was made to love you
I was made just for you
Made to adore you
I was made to love
And be loved by you
You were here before me
You were waiting on me
And you said you'd keep me
Never would you leave me I was made to love
and be loved by you
Anything I would give up for you
Everything, I'd give it all away
Anything I would give up for you
Everything, I'd give it all away
Anything I would give up for you
Everything, I'd give it, I'd give it all away, Oh yeah
Cause I was made to love you (I was made to love you)
Yeah I was made to love you (I was made to find you)
Cause I was made to love you (I was made to adore you, made just for you)
I was made to love you (I was made to adore you, made just for you)
Cause I was made to love you (I was made to adore you, made just for you)
I was made to love you (I was made to adore you)
Yeah I'm loved by you
Yeah I'm loved by you
Yeah I' m loved by you
(Made to Love You- Tobymac)
Watch the video on:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aBaX1T4VxOw
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
The Allure of Power!
"It is better to be feared than to be loved!
You may have brought the world to a new day...
But that day is done!
Now.....
We rule by night!" (Kings)
(I watched that scene five times...3 times on my own and twice when I randomly walked in and found other people watching it. The series Kings is loosely based on the story of King David(of the Bible). I say loosely based because it had a million inconsistencies. I have been going to church all my life. I never quite took to reading the Bible. Suddenly, I watch this and now I want to know everywhere they went wrong. Anyway, that said, I really liked this series.)
I don't know why this quote stuck. Maybe it was the English they used, maybe it was the tone of voice, maybe it was just the sheer power it exuded. I personally hate the dark and this scene was really dark. I can't see, I'm scared of bad things happening so I look over my shoulder all the time and I trip over everything so when the light does eventually come, I'm usually looking bruised and battered and I'm skittish like a new born.So it couldn't have been how dark the scene was.
I'm however sucker for power. The absolute confidence in that statement. The purity of the decision and the pregnant pauses between words (Why do they call them pregnant pauses...so crude.) I swear, five times I watched that scene and five times my heart stopped and the fifth time, I lip-synced along to the words and wished at that point I was King Silas with all his 99 problems (including the one Jay Z says he didn't have).
Women like power. That's how old men who can barely get a rise without medication have the lion's share of pretty females in the club. For some it may be the money but for most, its just the closeness to such power that attracts them. Power evokes confidence and decisiveness. Not only in the man but in the woman. Powerful people can say the most ridiculous random things and it will sound like it came out of the mouth of God himself. They have an air around them that makes them infallible and unshaken by events....it's an allure second to none.
It doesn't have to be power in its conventional sense. It just has to be power over the woman in question. Power over her emotions, her thoughts and even her movements. When a woman allows you to have that kind of absolute power over her, it means there's now absolute trust in the unknown. Absolute trust in the man. Absolute belief that the man will not hurt her, will always protect her and will provide for her.
The act of entrusting a man with power is for a woman a very intimate and absolute one. It takes a lot of thought, consultation and sometimes even a truck load of prayer coz let's face it, men tend to abuse that power every chance they get. All in all, when a woman reaches such powerlessness, I believe it's when she is at her happiest. She knows there's always someone who has our back, front, sides, top, bottom. There's someone to fight for her, protect her, provide a shoulder to cry on and occasionally take her tiny 900cc car to the garage.
Of course she doesn't want to walk around fearing her man's every move but she definitely want to be ruled by night. And by day, she wants someone declaring absolute power in the loving and caring way that only true kings do. Not in the bragging and dictatorial way of a tyrant. Circumstances may have pushed women to believe that they are independent states that can survive on their own but truth be told, every independent state needs a king, a guide, a powerful, confident and decisive leader. A radar that directs towards a future.
Occasionally women will revolt. In the new constitution its being referred to as "peaceful picketing"! That's when peace talks and dialogue take effect. Communication in its basic and purest form. Either that or you will be overthrown by the next powerful leader who comes with bigger and better promises. If as a man, you ever have the privileged of being given such power by your woman (and I use the term "privileged" very strongly here), think very carefully how you use it because power encompasses everything. Her love, her trust, her independence, her sex. Everything. You lose that power, and its goodbye, so long!
Back to Kings:
Like any good programme that is out to give profound teachings,
"It is better to be loved than feared,
Some of us were wrong and thought it the other way round,
When you're feared, you die alone,
When you're loved....you die happy!"
That was said a couple of scenes later when a slab of meat was shared (I learnt on Sunday that a slab of meat is the ultimate show of affection to a man)
You may have brought the world to a new day...
But that day is done!
Now.....
We rule by night!" (Kings)
(I watched that scene five times...3 times on my own and twice when I randomly walked in and found other people watching it. The series Kings is loosely based on the story of King David(of the Bible). I say loosely based because it had a million inconsistencies. I have been going to church all my life. I never quite took to reading the Bible. Suddenly, I watch this and now I want to know everywhere they went wrong. Anyway, that said, I really liked this series.)
I don't know why this quote stuck. Maybe it was the English they used, maybe it was the tone of voice, maybe it was just the sheer power it exuded. I personally hate the dark and this scene was really dark. I can't see, I'm scared of bad things happening so I look over my shoulder all the time and I trip over everything so when the light does eventually come, I'm usually looking bruised and battered and I'm skittish like a new born.So it couldn't have been how dark the scene was.
I'm however sucker for power. The absolute confidence in that statement. The purity of the decision and the pregnant pauses between words (Why do they call them pregnant pauses...so crude.) I swear, five times I watched that scene and five times my heart stopped and the fifth time, I lip-synced along to the words and wished at that point I was King Silas with all his 99 problems (including the one Jay Z says he didn't have).
Women like power. That's how old men who can barely get a rise without medication have the lion's share of pretty females in the club. For some it may be the money but for most, its just the closeness to such power that attracts them. Power evokes confidence and decisiveness. Not only in the man but in the woman. Powerful people can say the most ridiculous random things and it will sound like it came out of the mouth of God himself. They have an air around them that makes them infallible and unshaken by events....it's an allure second to none.
It doesn't have to be power in its conventional sense. It just has to be power over the woman in question. Power over her emotions, her thoughts and even her movements. When a woman allows you to have that kind of absolute power over her, it means there's now absolute trust in the unknown. Absolute trust in the man. Absolute belief that the man will not hurt her, will always protect her and will provide for her.
The act of entrusting a man with power is for a woman a very intimate and absolute one. It takes a lot of thought, consultation and sometimes even a truck load of prayer coz let's face it, men tend to abuse that power every chance they get. All in all, when a woman reaches such powerlessness, I believe it's when she is at her happiest. She knows there's always someone who has our back, front, sides, top, bottom. There's someone to fight for her, protect her, provide a shoulder to cry on and occasionally take her tiny 900cc car to the garage.
Of course she doesn't want to walk around fearing her man's every move but she definitely want to be ruled by night. And by day, she wants someone declaring absolute power in the loving and caring way that only true kings do. Not in the bragging and dictatorial way of a tyrant. Circumstances may have pushed women to believe that they are independent states that can survive on their own but truth be told, every independent state needs a king, a guide, a powerful, confident and decisive leader. A radar that directs towards a future.
Occasionally women will revolt. In the new constitution its being referred to as "peaceful picketing"! That's when peace talks and dialogue take effect. Communication in its basic and purest form. Either that or you will be overthrown by the next powerful leader who comes with bigger and better promises. If as a man, you ever have the privileged of being given such power by your woman (and I use the term "privileged" very strongly here), think very carefully how you use it because power encompasses everything. Her love, her trust, her independence, her sex. Everything. You lose that power, and its goodbye, so long!
Back to Kings:
Like any good programme that is out to give profound teachings,
"It is better to be loved than feared,
Some of us were wrong and thought it the other way round,
When you're feared, you die alone,
When you're loved....you die happy!"
That was said a couple of scenes later when a slab of meat was shared (I learnt on Sunday that a slab of meat is the ultimate show of affection to a man)
Monday, September 6, 2010
Knickers!
Please read this>Amazing stuff from an amazing writer!Read,enjoy and learn.
http://bikozulu.wordpress.com/2010/09/04/knickers/
http://bikozulu.wordpress.com/2010/09/04/knickers/
Friday, September 3, 2010
Clande wa daily.
"Clande wa Monday,
Clande wa Tuesday,
Clande wa Wednesday, Thursday na Friday"
That song has been on my mind all week. And the fact that Homeboys has been playing it on a loop doesn't help. I have no clandes so don't think I sing this song with random persons running around in my mind. I am not calling myself a saint but I have serious phobias of STD's and other unmentionable problems that are caused by certain lifestyles. But then again to each his own.
I am not going to point fingers at anyone who has a side dish somewhere for when the main female/male is faking headaches, monthly problems or long hours in the office. Almost everyone I know has "a just incase" number in the phone book. Whether or not they shall ever use it. It's our own quiet way of saying that incase your particular choice of idiot messes up, you can pretend to walk away unscathed. We don't admit it to other people and sometimes not even to ourselves but when push comes to shove there's always that other person standing in the shadows.
I always wonder whether the other person knows that they are the "just in case". Am I someone's "just in case"? Dammit I never thought about it until today!. Anyway, they may not be clandes in the traditional sense of the word and you may not particularly do anything "down and dirty" with them but they are on speed dial for when you are lonely or bored or just need company or derailment or whatever. They are like unpaid emotional help.
A "just in case" is different from a friend. They only know about you as much as you would let them. You don't particular hang out or talk every day. You only think about them under certain circumstances and sometimes when you day dream, it's their face you see...but only sometimes. They are your secret weapon. They have everything you wished your current idiot of choice had but none of the stuff that you really like so you have them because you need to think you could do better without actually doing better. You don't particularly love them. You like them quite abit but you never quite love them.
The great thing about "clande wa daily" is that you only get the best of them. Mostly because they are only in your life occasionally.You don't get their mood swings, their debt problems, their personality flaws. All you get is the sweet candy exterior. They do all the things that your main pre-occupation refuses to do because he/she is afraid of heights/busy/car is in the shop or whatever other excuse he/she is used to giving you. So when main squeeze is not talking to you is when you think "I could walk away now and just hook up with 'just in case'"
But at some point when age and your mother catch up with you, you realise you have to give up your "just in case". They may be comforting for a moment but you know they are not meant to be. I guess that's the point most people get married, put the number and memories on the shelf, breath out a sigh and quietly walk away. It is easy to walk away because there was no emotional investment. You'll probably even invite them to your wedding with no hard feelings. Even share congratulations. They are not the ones that got away. They are just the ones that could have been. And you know at the back of your mind if you were to have an intense affair (if you haven't already), they would be your first choice hands down.
They are your friend, your next door neighbour, your ex-classmate. They are your "just in case". You will never say it out loud to anyone but you every time you meet you think "that was the best 20 minutes of my life!"
Clande wa Tuesday,
Clande wa Wednesday, Thursday na Friday"
That song has been on my mind all week. And the fact that Homeboys has been playing it on a loop doesn't help. I have no clandes so don't think I sing this song with random persons running around in my mind. I am not calling myself a saint but I have serious phobias of STD's and other unmentionable problems that are caused by certain lifestyles. But then again to each his own.
I am not going to point fingers at anyone who has a side dish somewhere for when the main female/male is faking headaches, monthly problems or long hours in the office. Almost everyone I know has "a just incase" number in the phone book. Whether or not they shall ever use it. It's our own quiet way of saying that incase your particular choice of idiot messes up, you can pretend to walk away unscathed. We don't admit it to other people and sometimes not even to ourselves but when push comes to shove there's always that other person standing in the shadows.
I always wonder whether the other person knows that they are the "just in case". Am I someone's "just in case"? Dammit I never thought about it until today!. Anyway, they may not be clandes in the traditional sense of the word and you may not particularly do anything "down and dirty" with them but they are on speed dial for when you are lonely or bored or just need company or derailment or whatever. They are like unpaid emotional help.
A "just in case" is different from a friend. They only know about you as much as you would let them. You don't particular hang out or talk every day. You only think about them under certain circumstances and sometimes when you day dream, it's their face you see...but only sometimes. They are your secret weapon. They have everything you wished your current idiot of choice had but none of the stuff that you really like so you have them because you need to think you could do better without actually doing better. You don't particularly love them. You like them quite abit but you never quite love them.
The great thing about "clande wa daily" is that you only get the best of them. Mostly because they are only in your life occasionally.You don't get their mood swings, their debt problems, their personality flaws. All you get is the sweet candy exterior. They do all the things that your main pre-occupation refuses to do because he/she is afraid of heights/busy/car is in the shop or whatever other excuse he/she is used to giving you. So when main squeeze is not talking to you is when you think "I could walk away now and just hook up with 'just in case'"
But at some point when age and your mother catch up with you, you realise you have to give up your "just in case". They may be comforting for a moment but you know they are not meant to be. I guess that's the point most people get married, put the number and memories on the shelf, breath out a sigh and quietly walk away. It is easy to walk away because there was no emotional investment. You'll probably even invite them to your wedding with no hard feelings. Even share congratulations. They are not the ones that got away. They are just the ones that could have been. And you know at the back of your mind if you were to have an intense affair (if you haven't already), they would be your first choice hands down.
They are your friend, your next door neighbour, your ex-classmate. They are your "just in case". You will never say it out loud to anyone but you every time you meet you think "that was the best 20 minutes of my life!"
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