I LOVED HER.

I LOVED HER.

“You have to talk to me!!,”

“I have to head home,i have said everything i came to say,”

“No!!!!”i grab her hand and turn her to face me.

“We were doomed from the beginning,we knew…,”

“No!!!,i don’t accept that!!!”i bring her closer,her eyes searching mine for a better way,a easier way.Rain water falls on her perfect face mixing with tears i will never see.

“We can…we have to find a way…,”

“There is no other way.Please don’t make this harder than it already is…please.”she slowly frees her hand from my grip,rain is falling hard now but she does not protect her long hair.

“Here,”i give her my jacket,she looks at me reluctantly,

“Yours to keep.” I watch her wear it as she looks at me,something in her eyes startles me,a urgency i have never seen before.It’s not not hate more like a sad pitiful glimmer piercing through me.My heart sinks as i contemplate the fact that she does not feel as i do at that moment in our lives.

“This is the end we talked about.You made me promise,i have to go before i change my mind,”she turns and starts walking away.

“It’s that easy for you to leave huh…”I yell at her,my voice breaking as a lump forms in my throat.

“You speak of love!!!,you claim to love me yet…yet here you are walking away like it’s nothing!!!!,a fucking fling!!!”the lump in my throat moves to my chest forcing me to cough, a dry desperately empty yelp.

She stops in her tracks a few paces in front of me.

“Tell me you were using me,tell me it was nothing,i am nothing to you but a stage,a fuking checked box…TELL ME!!!”She rushes back into my arms kissing me fiercely,i taste her tears as our lips lock,i taste her pain and love,i taste the only freedom i have ever known before she breaks off to look at me.

“Don’t you fuking dare!!”

“You have to say it….”

” I can’t.”

“Then don’t leave me,we can find a way…”she leans in for another kiss,the farewell i will never accept.

“We knew what we were getting into from the beginning my love,you promised me,”

“Do you love me?”

“You know i do,but love is not enough right now…,”

“You don’t love me enough to stay huh…,”

“Don’t do that,Make me the bad guy here…”she steps away again her wet  white dress clinging to her.

“I never thought i would loose myself like this,you were meant to pass through,we had a plan,what the fuck have i done!.What is this feeling,?this empty dark void consuming me from the inside.?”

“It’s love,we flew too close to the sun hun.”

“stop calling me that,”

“No.”

“Then stay,don’t leave.”

“I have to leave,we both know i have to.We have to stick to the plan and you know it!”she yells through the rain as she turns to walk away holding tightly to her  brown jacket.The only thing of mine that will ever feel her warmth again.

I try to say something as her figure gets engulfed in the rain and morbid darkness,the words that were formed and thought out a day before are nowhere to be found.I grit my teeth and look back into the free way as a vehicle blasts the whole road with strong beams of light chasing away the shadows.I see her one last time,a small figure in the distance,my heart jumps at the thought of running after her.

“Always the light,”i whisper to myself.She is the light at the end of every tunnel i ever escaped through.

I remember the beginning as i stand there oblivious of the heavy downpour around me.The small droplets turned into painful bullets of reality hitting me all together at the speed of light.I concentrate on the pricks and the biting cold.I feel nothing else,not love nor hate.She is gone,the one person i thought i could not live without,the love i would go to the ends of the world for is gone and i feel nothing.Walking seems like the only thing i can do as the rain subsides slowly to a murmur of precipitation.Did i really just let the love of my life get away,?the thought seems pointless in my world of self doubt and negativity.Deep down i know i never deserved her.Our love was born of prickly fruit at too high a cost.I am soaked,trembling in the wind.My cocoon of  unbridled euphoria and massive surges of dopiness dissipating with every step i take away from a future i will never see.I leave her orbit like a wayward comet,burning with the fumes born of  star crossed lovers,only in the beginning.

I did not love her, i did not even know the meaning of the word.The cosmos and all the gods that have ever existed must have had to pull a lot of strings to bring my wayward soul into her orbit.She did not fall victim to my crude humor or quick wit,she did not even notice me at all.

We will call her Jupiter,she was and still is the most radiant human being i have ever had the pleasure of knowing.At first,i was content with sharing the same space and breathing the same air she did,always stealing glances from across rooms and spaces shared hoping that she did not feel my eyes tracing that perfect arch of her lower back.Mundane normal movements were slowed down and appreciated in my head,her laughter,that beautiful sound she made filled my soul with joy,Elation i kept to myself waiting for later to reminisce and replaY the entire day i had spent marveling at the wonder that was her,my Jupiter.

This uncontrollable attraction being one sided burned my insides.All that time i stole for just the two of us,the perfectly scheduled “accidentally” shared bus rides to wherever she was going always trying to fix my day to day mundane activities around her orbit didn’t matter if i was a few buildings away  or feeling her warm skin rub against mine as we shared tightly fixed metallic chairs in loud swerving matatus. It was on one of those rides that i took her hand in mine as the vibrant multi colored art on wheels swerved into the highway without a care in the world.People complained as one woman in the front seat invoked her preferred deity.I did not even hear the music get louder  trying to drown the discontent shown by the passengers,i was feeling her fingers interlocking with mine as i tried to brush off the impact that simple gesture had on my entire anatomy.My palm was getting clammy as time passed and our hands were still connected,i was avoiding eye contact,my mind was blank,my throat slowly drying up like a seasonal Kamba river,

“You can let go now,we have survived the worse of it,”she slowly freed her hand from my sweaty vice like paw with a smile on her face.

“sorry about the river of sweat hehehe,i was scared shitless,”i hid my face as blood rushed to my head.

“It’s okay,”

“eeer,wanna get some coffee before you head home?”

“I can’t,”she looked disappointed,i liked that.

“well,this is my stop,i will see you tomorrow with dryer hands.”

“Will we be holding hands again,?that coy playful smile always jumbled up my thoughts.

“eeer no,that was lame…hehehe,kesho.”i had to eject before i crashed and burned.

 

Day two with Jupiter found me ready,i had prepared my lines and thought of every scenario,she would say this and i would say that,perfect conversation culminating to that perfect smile made everything in my life okay.I hated that i had to hide my true self though,she would not like the me i was looking at in the mirror;the angry and tortured me;the dead inside screaming for help me,no,even i would not like me.

“Get out of there,”she looks deep in my soul.

“Look at me,right here right now.We,at this moment should be everything.”

“It’s hard for me to say this because it’s you,”

“Well,i wanna say i feel the same way but i don’t.All you had to do was come talk to me.”

“i was chicken shit,still am actually hehehe.”

“what did you wanna tell me”

“I wanted to say that i have wanted to kiss you for the longest time.”

“A kiss,?”that’s all.?

“Yeah,”she looks at me quizzically.She moves closer  still holding my gaze.

“A kiss is not enough for me,you have to think bigger and bolder.”Her warm breath dances around my nostrils as she kisses the tip of my nose and holds my gaze.

“Find out what you really want,don’t just guess.I wanna know how far you are willing to go.”She moves away slowly with that innocent intelligent smile curving her perfect lips ever so slightly.

“I love you.”The words leave my lips before they are checked and processed.

she laughs out loud nearly knocking her cup of coffee off the table in our rendezvous point.I laugh with her oblivious to all the people around us as the world spins on,leaving  us in our small bubble of infinite possibilities.

 

 

 

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ANYWHERE ELSE.

She wakes up drowsy,her head throbs sending sharp pain to her unfocused eyes.She tries to move her hands,the left arm answers her command,she uses it to clear her eyes,the pain behind her eye sockets intensifies but she forces them open again.She tugs on her right arm,nothing,she looks up and vaguely makes out black leather  fastened tightly on the queen size bed’s head board,her arm fastened to the other end of the shiny designer belt.Everything comes rushing back to her when she makes out the man standing by the mirror fastening his tie,she stops struggling.

“Proud brats are always the easiest to break,”he speaks,a effortless inaudible sentence as he moves towards her.

“My love,you already belong to me”he moves his hand over her balled up body barely touching her.

“everything you  are now is because i deemed it so,the more you try to fight me the more you will loose”He whispers to her as he traces his hand over her exposed thigh slowly lifting the blood stained silk bed sheet that barely covers the rest of her body.

“Look at what you made me do angel,”her exposed young frame is firm and full,her skin flawless except for the dark marks cause by  bruising around her inner left thigh and ribs.

Angel never moves,she keeps her gaze on the wall,Kazungu her betrothed moves closer to her then crouches to her eye level by the side of the bed  and stares at her expressionless face with a smirk on his face.

“You were worth the wait that’s for sure,” he grabs her buttocks and digs his nails into her soft skin leaving nail marks.

“You are mine now,”

“my property to do with as i please,”

“Every time you have any thought of defying me,or…or seeing that doctor friend of yours i want you to remember last night,remember that i can always reach out and take you” Kazungu runs his hand through her hair before grabbing a fistful of the black tangled mess of hair  lifting her to her knees on the bed,she grits her teeth as the strain on her taught hair burns her scalp. He stands over her with lustful eyes as the bulge on the front of his black jeans gets bigger.

Angel looks at him,her one tied hand stretched out.He lets go of her hair, she falls back on the bed like a lifeless doll, all worn out and used.

“You are not to leave this room,if you want anything just call the kitchen or the maid.”Kazungu walks back to the mirror leaving a naked angel motionless on the bed.

She stares at the high ceiling perfectly crafted with the mahogany bed posts that rise from all four corners of the bed as kazungu leaves the master bedroom whistling to himself.A maid meets him outside the door as he leaves,

“she is not to leave this room”

“Yes sir”the maid bows low as kazungu closes the door behind him.More instructions are given, inaudible murmuring to angel as she turns to the side pulling the bloodied sheets to cover her nakedness.

Tears flow freely soaking the soft feather stuffed pillows cradling her shapely head and  soaking up the semi-dried blood from her busted lower lip.She tries to remember a time she was free,a time she felt happy and loved.A picture of her home comes to mind,her two sisters fussing around the table as her father sits on  one of the worn out dining chairs he made himself.She remembers her mothers singing,how her smile warmed the  room always urging her husband to eat some more food before he left for his long distance driving job.He was always gone for weeks at a time so she always made a feast for every departure.Her fathers amazement when she explains the stories he read on the daily newspapers he always collected,

“How do you understand these things?!you are but a child!!”He always said beaming with pride before leaning in close to whisper.

“You are my favorite,”He always winked at her and pinched her cheek.

She was the boy he had always wanted so she had decided every day he was away to read and work hard in school.She was besting even the boys at subjects like mathematics and the sciences.Her academic achievements proved to be a gift and a curse when she was accepted into a very expensive school for higher learning,she remembered her sisters fighting for space in front of the mirror they had in their room as they got ready for their dates.

“You have hogged the mirror long enough wenika!!” their eldest sister protested.

“Mirrors don’t work miracles big sister,that forehead will not be reduced by your reflection!!” a fight would always ensue after that and angel would be forced to do her reading outside.She never understood why they cared so much what boys thought about their looks or the shape of their eye brows.She never had time for boys,her sisters were all waiting to be married off  but not her,she wanted more than just a man.

Her academic achievements had drawn attention from all kinds of people,but out of all the well wishers only one man was really interested in helping her financially.Mr kangu, a well known business man,well not really all that known because rumors were that he used dark magic and witchcraft to amass his wealth.He was a plain looking man without any memorable features,his demeanor was that of a simple man with simple tastes,his eyes on the other hand were piercing and formidable,there was a darkness in them that run deep.Angel met him when her father was invited to his home in the mountains.She accompanied him wearing the only fancy dress she had.she did not like the pink lace or the u  cut on the chest.she was becoming a woman and no amount of fabric could cover that up.

“You have a chance to be anything you want my favorite daughter”Angel’s father pinched her cheek like he always did,there were more wrinkles on his face as he smiled,his health had started deteriorating since the accident.

“I will not let you down father”

“Don’t forget angel,hard work always pays”

That was the last real conversation she ever had with her father,after their journey to Mr  Kangu’s mansion she did not go back home with her father.Mr. kangu had already arranged for her to go to campus,she left the two men to talk alone as she was shown around the huge house by Mr Kangu’s son.

“I saw you on tv the other day,congrats on the exam,”he was timid and shy.

“Thanks,i have never seen a house this big before”angel marveled at the extravagance and beauty of the place.

“it’s one of the few,”

“one of the few?”she was puzzled as he walked ahead of her his head held high with pride and entitlement.

“Yeah,we have many houses,one day,all this…”he is interrupted by a servant who walks in.

“Your father sir”

“lets go,father does not like to be kept waiting”The boy showed fear in his eyes as he took angel by the arm and hurried her back to his father’s office.

She remembered her fathers face more than anything when he took her to another room to explain why he had to leave her with strangers.

“Your sisters will need you to take care of them my angel,you must finish school and get a good job”

“I don’t understand why i cant do that from home”She bit hard on her lip as she remembered her fathers dismay.He could not look her in her eyes for the first time.

A rattle on the door jolts her back to reality,the maid walks in carrying towels and fresh sheets.She gasps at the sight of her mistress on the bed motionless covered with blood soaked sheets and tears.

“Lets get you cleaned up madam”Angel does not even budge as the maid sits on the bed next to her employers wife to be.

“My dear girl,i have seen you everyday ever since you were brought here by your father,you were a happy smart and tough young woman and the master took a liking to you,we all did.This situation that you have been forced to endure should either make you or break you my child.This boy will always be cruel and vindictive,he is like this because he fears who you can be,he fears that he will never be man enough to step in his ailing fathers shoes.You must know this,you have to see the opportunity in this misery my child.”The older woman pulls the covers off angel and turns a still sobbing angel to face her.

“I know you would rather be anywhere else my daughter,away from this small man and his evil,away from the toxic rich people trying to get rid of you.I would rather be in my strong husbands arms right now but he is dead and i have my children to feed.Now listen here sweet child,you get your ass out of this bed,go wash that blood off your face and prepare yourself  for the party.This is your house,now show them what you are made of.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

RANDOM THOUGHTS

The idea of killing one’s self has been talked about  a lot in the last decade,it seems a spike in the deaths of mostly males of the humans species has not sparked the most needed discussion for a solution to this growing problem. A lot of men,mostly in the 19-28 age group have been pro death over dealing with day to day mundane things that the men who came before us faced only on a grander scale,so why then?,what is making this young souls punch their own clocks at such an alarming rate?

To understand this macabre phenomenon, i had to look within first.Being of the right age and of course living in a unstable and still forming society i would think we would be dropping like flies in this third world.Looking into myself was easy,it is always easy when you are having a honest chat with yourself but unfortunately when women process their emotions and share their plight with their friends or family psychologists say the burden is more times than not,lifted.Men on the other hand are expected by society to have a anti-emotions shielding under their hairy skin to repel all feeling-based triggers that may be viewed by all as feminine or for the weak.i digress,Lets get back to looking within.

My vision of what adult life would be when i was growing up was always marred by doubt and a all round negative view of living.don’t get me wrong,i was not walking around with my self important nasal cavity pointing upwards like pumbaa in that “hakuna matata” song no,it was more like a expectation for everything that can go wrong to go wrong.I expected to die even when a fender bender between a matatu and a lorry caused everybody in rickety matatus to scream,that same assumption for the worst followed me everywhere,a dark cloud over my head waiting to engulf me at any moment.I wore that darkness as a cloak creating a barrier between me and everything else,always expecting the worst of every situation and every person.The happiness felt in friendships and belonging never resonated with my dark cloak of shame and despondence.In my solitude,in order to function in society avatars had to be formed,these personalities were interchangeable for every occasion or interaction and before you knew it i could not recognize my true self.

You look in the mirror every morning and whisper some words of encouragement to that void inside your eyes that houses the self encompassing every notable attributes you show or hide,both mental and physical,you try to gloss over your big ass ears and exalt your beautiful eyes,you stay positive and remind yourself how special you are.We all do this,well,at least most of us do,psychologists have told us time and again to keep a healthy relationship with ourselves,they tell us to only feed our brains with positive thoughts and with time our brains will rewire our psych for a more fulfilling life of happiness.We learn that it doesn’t matter how one’s physical drawbacks are,that all can be overcome with a positive attitude,that’s all we learn.We decide to die because there is nothing to live for,this has nothing to do with how we look,my brothers die because they do not belong anywhere.The personalities we make for ourselves don’t fix us,we function as  best we can,our fairer sex counterparts shoot for the stars while we look on and smile,whispering to ourselves through gritting teeth,

“its their time”

Yes my dear sisters,its your time to shine,to reach for the moon and Venus,to reclaim the power that was stolen from you by outdated practices and a chauvinistic male dominated world.This new age world has promised and delivered on the proverbial microphone for your powerful voices.We have acknowledged your might as powerful African mothers,sisters and wives,where respect was not given,is commanded,the world becoming a village has strengthened your resilience as the ones who came before you carved in blood the heading for your chapters in the history books.

The latter being a complete revision for the gender roles in society,history books that are more often than not written by the victors still cling to where power is,our fathers who are still at the helm leeching off the boom of short skirts and flowery fragrances in the otherwise male dominated board rooms pluck petals off sprouting flowers at will.While we rewire our already brainwashed minds to accommodate the new world of   gender equality and political correctness trying to be malleable and hard at the same time,our fathers sit pretty on their thrones of old,slowly seeping into this new world only to corrupt the free new age broke young fillies with the promise of a easy life of excess and debauchery.i digress.

We choose to be what we are,we choose to not pursue higher education because we don’t study in class,we choose to sit in the street stuffing our faces with leaves and chewing gum because misery loves company,while our sisters drive new hybrid cars we swing off  metallic bars welded onto fast moving public vehicles blasting loud music.My brothers choose to love other men because living the high life comes at a intrusively painful price;we don’t marry our women anymore because we are not heads of the families our fathers told us we would be;our whole existence as the male species has been reduced to a test tube full of sperm,we have become obsolete.

We are already dead,we walk around heads bowed down because in our hearts we know,the reaper came to us a long time ago and only took our pride.No voice in our hearts to sing our songs of bravery and duty as we do not have anything to live for.We have died and our ancestors can’t save us anymore.

The tide of change is sweeping through the minds of all,preparing the world for a new age of being.Our fathers were wrong,our fathers lied to us when they married five wives,they led us astray when they paid more attention to us when we were born,when our sisters were given their list of things to aspire to,home making and “assisting” their husbands.

Our fathers were wrong.

This is the sacrifice we have to make,in our insecurities and inexperience we have planted seeds for the new age,played our weak hand hoping to bluff and get away with it but the house always wins.Without any structure or sense of directions we thrust away and hide in the carnal knowledge of the women we will never marry.we dominate and for those few minutes grunt and sweat with a sense of importance as boys play at being men.Sons we bear but don’t raise call out to their mothers for the instruction to life while we hide in our drug fueled embarrassment watching women thrive without us.

Maybe history will not hate us as much as we hate ourselves,our bastard sons will grow up singing songs of praise to their mothers while we slip away into the darkness and with us a forgotten generation of young men who never reached their potential.

Maybe that is the price we pay.

 

POISONED GIFTS

POISONED GIFTS

Some of the greatest minds in human history killed themselves,they either had debilitating clinical depression or felt alone and cast out because of their ideas that were ahead of their time.Men like Earnest Hemingway,one of the the best writers of our time  blew his head off with a shot gun,not forgetting one of my favorite rock singer song writers  Curt Cobain who also had a soft spot for the same powerful hand gun to punch his own ticket.Allow me to use these two icons to try and understand their state of mind at that time before lights out,broad strokes of course.

In the dead of the night when the only voices you can hear are in your head a lot can be said for the trail of thoughts,well,mostly for insomniacs and trust fund brats trying to understand why they are so blessed.Curt Cobain had a heroin problem,Hemingway is said to have lived in the bottle.The question that rises from their untimely deaths is their status,these men were great,these men were famous and successful,why the need for self sabotage?.psychiatrists speak of underlying mental trauma that is usually buried deep in the subconscious,it is either experienced physically or emotionally at some point in their lives.

Hemingway lived through two world wars,saw the gruesome realities that come with conflict,he saw his friends die and nearly died himself a couple times.Cobain got hooked on smack as he tried to balance his growing fame with his laid back soft spoken demeanor.He was always a odd ball though but listening to his music now anyone can feel his soul resonating from the tremble of his voice,he captured many hearts by letting his own bleed on guitar strings.could their fame and glory have been intertwined with their demons,?would they have been better off without the monkey on their backs?

Personally,i cannot be attributed to any great feats although i consider surviving this puss oozing knock off reality a feather on my cap.Our addiction to self gratification has reduced all of us to happy masked puppets always going with the flow.The odd ball phenomena is quickly being eliminated from our society as the entire world tries to fake it by #winning.

My ‘# not winning ‘ self gratifying remarks on social media drew the interest of a wonderful person though,someone  i had never spoken to before or met in my life.Now people will tell you that if anyone shows interest especially if its a girl,we automatically switch to our dick heads for level headed decisions and reasoning.On this encounter though this particular person who i will call “damsel to the rescue”had been following my irregular posts on life and death and every other depressing topic in between.She insisted i call her after jotting her number down.

“hi,”

“Hi,have we met before?“my dick head wanted to know.

“I don’t think so Grundel,are you okay?”she asked sounding really concerned.

“Am good,why do you ask?”

“well i read your post and it sounds like a cry for help.Are you alone,?”at this point my dick head had pushed the matter to another  more hands on department.

hehehehe am good,i just like contemplating life and everything,”

“How old are you?because this happens mostly to adults who are in their late twenties“She was a professional alright,

what happens? oh, and yeah am 27…”

Clinical depression,its a mental,i am a social worker,we see many cases like these but since its a sort of taboo in our African culture many people live with it,some kill themselves because of it and i was just concerned for you“she sounded really nice and i didn’t want to be a dick.

The conversation took longer than expected,it gradually moved from self hate,to religion and its place in my life and at the end to how life is simple and should be taken a day at a time.

At the end of the discussion i was happy for her,the conclusion we reached was one of positive vibes and songs of rebirth but at the back of my head(not my dick head) The old man and the sea which is one of Hemingway’s best short stories was popping up,paragraph after paragraph.The fact that a total stranger was moved  enough to try and save me from myself did not move me,of course i was grateful for her kindness and humanity but i still felt this uncontrollable urge to stay my course.

Damsel to the rescue never called me again but she did make a reasonable impact in my life.I knew then as i do now that i am not alone,many of us feel out of place,this life feels like a bad dream,some sick game we have to play for a prize we cannot hold or take home.I also know now that there is a flip side to that coin.Happiness can be realized,life can be sunshine and rainbows but all this has to come from within.I am still looking for that spark,my dick head has given me alternative choices but they are temporary and in some cases quite expensive so,no.We all have to talk about these things,especially African men,Kenyan men like myself who were taught to always be strong and unflinching in the way we expose our emotions.Until this evolution of how we show and embrace our emotions comes full circle,Nirvana will caress my ear drums as i gingerly caress my proverbial shot gun.

 

 

 

SPINES OF OUR FATHERS.

SPINES OF OUR FATHERS.

My dad was my hero,ever since i can remember.He was always on the move so the few moments we got with him were cherished.Those days no matter how dysfunctional a family was, respect was always upheld for the parents.He had told me that his great grand daddy was a very harsh man,he would have them picking coffee berries at the tender age of six,and supper depended on how you did every day,

‘huyo mzee hakua mchezo’ he would chime in looking nostalgic as he reminisced on the good old days.Yeah,the days of children respecting their parents to the point of fear,but then again fear has always been a great motivator.

‘did you hate him?’i asked after giving him a moment to travel back in time,

‘At that time when i was a boy, yes.I guess we all hated him.The fact that he made us work so hard made sure that we never went hungry.Back then a man’s self respect was worth everything to him and in the case of that scaly bastard,two wives and a litter of rag rats didn’t help the situation.’He finished as he looked ahead,(our little talks always happened when he was driving.)

In a nutshell my understanding of the good old days was that every man had something to push him to greatness,there was always something,maybe a father whose shoes were always too big to fill;or a maverick youth with a chip on his shoulder and ghosts to impress,the constant always remained,as a man you had to be something.

The place for the male child was always defined from birth,you were to inherit your fathers wealth and take care of his wife and your sisters until they were married off,this was the unspoken rule,this was the sacred duty for every boy who was to be a man.The past was not kind to daughters,as most were perceived to be property,only useful for the dowry they would fetch when they came of age.For the status quo this unspoken rule meant that one sex would be deemed as more valuable than the other.The girl child was disadvantaged as per how the world viewed our way of life.

Times were changing,we had to change with them.The arrogance and self entitlement of the boy child had to be checked in the new world of fairness,the girl child proved to be more disciplined and ready to learn as we were stripped of our ‘backward ways’ and given a new god to worship.We have been fumbling around in the dark ever since,one  blind man leading a horde of confused blind uneducated fools into a uncertain future.The progress for this caterpillar to morph into a butterfly has been marred by set back after set back,we gave up our fore fathers beliefs for a better world,a world where all children are equal and as per the law,require an education;a world where girls get to choose their lovers or husbands and boys can knock up any girl promise her the world and then leave in search of more sexual conquests.Its a new age of choices and privilege.

The doctrines and beliefs that held our communities together seem too far fetched to be true,we are all white people now,the caterpillar finally burst out of its cocoon and spread its wings to fly,but where to? were are we headed?

My father is long since passed,his wisdom and new age philosophies have become lost to me,just as his grandfathers became obsolete when his time came,this is a world that doesn’t wait for no man,or woman.since the unspoken rules that guided both sexes in the days of the past don’t work in this day and age we have been forced to latch onto other more sure footed peoples,the world opening up to us all like a double edge sword cutting from both sides.

I am a old dog,i neither want to nor require new tricks because my master knows i am a outside pet and such as that i will stick to what is familiar,that is the one life lesson for the new age young man or woman struggling to find meaning in this fast moving world.We are all lost now,in our rush to be butterflies we forgot to ask the route we are to take so we just follow other creatures who look like us hoping they know the way.There is no matriarchy anymore,this new age world hungers,for all the old ways and beliefs,every tradition that was reinforced for thousands of years is eroded,consumed and replaced by political correctness and law suits for libel cases with faceless trolls trash talking  each other on social media.We are all judges now,bound to this new connected world of fads and trending new age lifestyles that change faster than shit through a goose.

The one constant god in this time is money,the only language we all understand.Respect now is weighed by the zero’s in your bank account,our daughters and future wives have put easy wealth and comforts on their ability to keep these old men warm in their beds,young men revitalize the untamed older lionesses who stepped in to fill the leader roles our fathers couldn’t evolve to fill.We are all whores now,we crave a life long gone,a happiness we really do not deserve because we don’t sacrifice and work hard for it.The irony of it all is clear for all to see,its a woman’s world now,the strength that came with the man of the family has been abated,African men are becoming obsolete,hell am sure they are working on a synthetic sperm out there to get rid  of us completely .frankly speaking i don’t blame the fairer sex,i happen to think the family should be led by the woman as nature shows us time and again.some of the most successful species next to humans are led by females ie. wolves,elephants,leopards,cheetahs but naming a few .The uncertainty of this new world order has made men soft,we have been intoxicated by the thought of being pretty too.We want what the women always had,we want to be begged and courted.We want to  cry and show our emotions too,all the emotional tidbits that were subscribed for women,we want them,after all gender equality is the new way of living and everyone can be whatever they want to be.The strong spines of our fathers died with them.

 

 

OCEAN IN A DROP,

The rabbit hole i fell into led me to some big places in small crevices.The idea of a whole person with dreams and aspirations must have something or someone to believe in,this could be a code to live by or theories that explain loosely how we came to be and our purpose on this rock.

The more learned members of our civilizations inform us about the “BIG LIE,”the elusive unconfirmed truth,who is really in control.

He wakes up everyday already wired for monotony,the fire that drove him to reach out slowly dying in smoldering pieces of self doubt and a dull ache in his throat.He looks through his window,out to the world he is about to slip by and evade till past noon or four.The videos he watches about solitude and getting on with fellow man insist that he should first look in the mirror and smile.See the wonder in his own eyes,believe again.

The only information to rest his weary unresponsive brain is that there is no upside,there is only the one way through the muck and shit that is everyday anecdotes of life and happiness induced by opiates.

“happiness is nothing”This new age being mumbles to himself,gritting his teeth as he walks past a family of five walking briskly in the morning cold.

He watches them in disgust,not to be confused with envy…no,he hates them because he is them,he is living under the same rules and beliefs.society deemed them all to be who they are,but for who?Did they get the lack of ambition package for self reliance and self worth?,is their happiness bound to procreation and the hum drum of daily survival as sheep?

“Fuking humans”he thinks about spitting,he hates spitting.

The main reason for his existence is a mystery to him,he is riding the wave that is life with a proverbial rope tightening around his throat,the stool by his feet creaking under the weight of his unrelenting indifference to existence.

The smile he wore that day was fresh off its wrapper,in mint condition,he got a glance from a young mother and her young daughter,maybe a grin from a young lady who seemed to have squeezed into her tube dress with a gallon of lubricant.His dick taunts him to turn his head,they argue with his reason for a minute before his dark passenger interrupts with another icy grip on his persona.

“what are we doing here stupid”the cool rumble of that voice makes him sick to his stomach,so collected,so at home in his once free mind.

Putting his head down the passenger goes ahead to replay the information he gathered in relation to how meaningless existence is,

“God is dead,you know it,i know it,they all know it.Look at all these sheep,prodding along in lines of misery as they waste their incoherent lives doing nothing for the purpose of nothing…ALL THEY DO IS FUCK!!,they procreate like rats because their god told them to,they believe that bullshit.They waste their lives following rules that make them dumber and more submissive to tyranny and rule,they bend even further to get fucked…they like it…”.The voice rings in his ears as he tries to remember any tune about sunshine and rainbows.

“Go ahead asshole,think happy thoughts…bury your head into the quicksand you made,to sink and numb the pain. Don’t forget though,i will still be here when you surface again for another glimpse at what could be.’His voice dies out.

Time after time the truth is revealed,moments in time when everything is perfect,when he is present in that one moment,trying to savor this gift,he clings to those moments of heaven for the gloomy days when there is no control.He lives for those moments.

 

 

WAKE UP.

The things we do right after we wake up tell a lot about our state of mind.take my girl for example,she sleeps like she gets paid to do it while i toss and turn like a forsaken lover on their honey moon.I have always hated that journey into nothingness,that six to seven hours when your subconscious lets you know your deepest and darkest fears in the weirdest way possible.

She shakes me out of another world,sweat soaking the sheets with my hands clasped together.She looks worried as i wipe cold beads of sweat off my brow and chest,

“another one of your dreams?”she asks pensively

“yeah…did i wake you?”its a stupid question but i still ask,

“ulikua unatwitch,thought you were fucking someone in your dreams”

“nope…i wasn’t,i was running…”i confirm that real quick.

“from that pussy?”She smiles trying to mask her drowsiness,

“i was actually about to die before you woke me”standing to open the window.

The cold breeze makes short work of the pent up warmth as the rush of cool air brings me back to reality,fully.I try to remember the dream,The intensity of this made up world were all my fears are laid bare.

“What were you running from?”she asks covering up as the room gets colder.

“i don’t know yet…it happened so fast,i was holding someones hand…”

“a girls hand?”she quips with a sly smile

“No…i didn’t see a face,she died though,in my arms i think”the smile disappears.

 

“We both know my dreams are shit dimples…”i try to lighten the mood as she settles back in bed and beckons for me to join her.

The rest of the night is spend trying to understand the lesson in my dreams and avoiding that damp area on the bed.After a slow morning and two cups of coffee i try to learn more about dreams.Turns out running usually means that there is an issue in my life that i have to resolve or something and then the other dreams about fighting and dying in an alternate universe surrounded by black dongs on fire with dolls in their mouths…

suffice to say,i need to do a little more research and chalk all the weirdness up to a over-active imagination.My girl is kind of used to my trips to the other side,she likes helping me retrace my steps as we marvel at how unpredictable they can all be.As i wake up every other night and compare my unorthodox dreams to my reality,i can relate a few of the quiet lesson and hidden messages my mind tries to force feed my conscious mind and when they get too dark i can always stay up and share in dimples’s perfect sleep.