Thoughts of you

Its 6am and I can't sleep. I can hear raindrops just outside my bedroom window. Slow but determined. If i did want to go back to sleep, i could count them instead of sheep. Everywhere else is quiet. Except for the occasional passing car. Its times like this i can actually say there is nothing on my mind. So i lay back and let my mind drift to the past. The past always holds hidden treasures. The past also holds hidden pain.

When i think of you, my heart aches.

It aches from memories and pain

a little thought is all it takes

and i can feel all my strength drain

The ache begins as a little tingle

an indication of sorrow to come

and i know these memories will linger

even after all the tears have gone

I wouldn't take anything back

the pain has helped me grow

but late at night, in the dark

when i have those thoughts of you,

my heart aches from memories and pain.

Counting sheep

Sleep is not overrated. You can never have enough sleep. You appreciate this even more when insomnia strikes. Lately, sleep and i have been fighting alot. He doesn't love me anymore.  Laying in the dark, listening to the silence. It can make a person go insane. I count sheep but they too are asleep and refuse to jump over fences. When i do sleep, its for minutes and i have the most vivid dreams. Sometimes they scare me so much that when i wake up, i'm too scared to go back to sleep. 

I dreamed I was crossing a rope bridge
like the one in camp.
Underneath this rickety structure
was a wide swamp.
It didn't just stretch in length
I knew it was deep too
For when I bent
I cudnt see the bottom of the pool
I walked calmly to the end
 but there was a step missing.
In trying so hard not to bend
I sent the ropes a'twisting.
I held on tight
trying not to let go.
No one saw my plight
now I was tied like a bow.
Round and round in the air
After a while I had no care
But just as I let go of the rope
From this horrible dream I awoke

Breaking up with the family.

The thought of getting serious may have crossed my mind once or twice but it wasn't something i really wanted. I enjoyed the freedom. Relationships are limiting and half the fights are about crossing these limits. I enjoyed what we had. It was un-serious and open. He was free to do whatever he wanted and he returned the favor. 

The beauty of our arrangement was that when my bad habit of getting bored kicked in, i could move on without hurting anyone. 

We were perfect. What happened? My mum happened. She accidentally met him and she fell in love. She wanted more, for him and me. The more she pushed, the more i wanted to get away. I wanted to be alone. Her approval increased my disapproval and i knew she was driving me away from him.

How do i end things with someone that my mother is in love with? 

Nine to Five

There's a clock ticking in the distance. The rhythmic tick tock enunciates the  tenseness in the room. Fingers go at keyboards and phones ring. Sometimes it is the classic ring of the land-line and sometimes it is a popular song. We are young at heart but we must conform to the wishes of the older ones. A conversation drifts in from the room next door. Someone is unhappy, raised voices. The door opens and this symphony is paused as the visitor is surveyed. A quick walk to the laminating machine. He poses no threat. The symphony is resumed.

A low laugh, a private joke. There is whispering and a second laugh. Now everyone wants a piece of the joke. The comedian shares the joke and we all laugh. It is a beautiful sound. We may be prisoners of a capitalist market but our hearts are free. The routine has been halted as we enjoy the joke. It is a good joke that will be relayed after work in bars and homes. The clock continues to tick. It is a sound that has become a part of us, like the beating of our hearts. It is a consoling sound and we almost miss it when we leave. We almost miss it. 

Nocturnal Awakenings

I woke up at 2:35am. My two hour sleep cut short by the power coming back on.
I hadn't turned of the ac so I got up to shut my windows. There was a bird on my windowsill. It wasn't one of the pigeons I fed rice to during the day. It had a
long beak and a head that looked like it could barely carry the beak.


A voice in my head told me to shut the window and go back to bed. I ignored this voice.
I hadn't been sleeping well for the past four months. I had gone nights witout a
Wink of sleep. When sleep finally came, it was barely up to 2 hours.
Three months ago I had googled my symptoms and come up with my disease. Nocturnal
Awakenings. My weak brain took on this bird head on. Curiosity flooded my system
And pumped through my veins.


I put out my right hand, to feel this weird creature. It wasn't supposed to be up at
this time. I felt we were similar, both hit by insomnia. It wouldn't even look at me.
I expected it to fly away from the threat I posed. It attacked.
I saw the blood before I felt the pain. The huge gash in my index finger poured blood.
Something pushed me to try again but I pulled back and looked for something to hold against it.


There was some gin in the fridge downstairs, I walked down the stairs.
I could not wait to return to my new found treasure.
I opened the fridge and reached towards the gin. Something hit me from behind and pushed me into
the fridge. I bumped my head hard but when I turned, there was nothing there.

The bleeding had stopped, so I abandoned the gin and went back upstairs.
As I walked, I heard a foreign noise. Living alone had let me get accustomed to the various
noises my house made. This sounded different, like breathing.
I ran to my room and locked the door. My friend was no longer outside my window.
My windows were open. Had I closed them? During the night, my phone had fallen
under my bed. As I bent to reach it, I heard footsteps just outside my door. There was a knock...

Radio crush

I have over 7000 songs in my itunes library. However I only
listen to twenty songs at a time. Sometimes I select shuffle
and I hear a song I had no idea I had.

I get a certain joy from hearing a song I like on my list.
This joy is nothing compared to when I'm driving and a favorite
song comes up on the radio. I just want to blow off the top of
my roof with my horrible singing. Now, wande cole's kiss your
hand is playing ...allow me to kiss your hand.

the first day of the rest of my life

Loyal followers will know that my mum and I are like salt and sugar.
We don't mix most of the time.(I think I'm the sugar) hehe.
Anyways, I have a one month break before I start work so I
decided to spend it bonding with my mother. Did I mention that
we are like salt and sugar?


My mum is of the view that she is always right while I am of
the view that she is always wrong. This may cause a tiny hitch in
my bonding plans. However, I come up with a brilliant plan: I am
going to do whatever she says. In fact, from now on, she's always
right.


Our dogs hate their dog house so most of the time they stay in
the garage. Now we park the cars outside. My mum wants the garage
sealed for a while to discourage them from staying there.
All we have to do is seal the hole they come in from.
I personally think this can be accomplished with some hard board.
My mum orders me to use some paper. She's always right.


I use the paper and ofcourse the dogs chew right through.
Having exhausted her idea, I think this would be a good time
to introduce mine. So I tell her what happens and she replies:
"How can you do something that foolish? One would expect you would
have used something harder" sigh..one day down, twenty nine more to go....

Positivity for the pessimist

My watch says its 5:16pm. My laptop says my watch is 9 minutes too fast. It's hot outside. The air conditioner is working overtime. Every time the  toilet door is opened, a wave of heat passes over the room. It's a little uncomfortable but it's worse outside. The sun shows no sign of setting anytime soon. The roads are deserted, the heat wave is making people remain indoors.

In the background, Damien Marley's Road to Zion plays really low. The song completes the sorrowful mood that has settled over my room. This is my time. I'm half sitting on my bed as i begin to go through things that have happened this last week. I catch a stray tear as it races down my cheek. I'm too close to giving up. I just want it to rain so i can stand in it and cry my fears away. The grab bag of ideas that usually go through my head have given way to one consistent thought: I want out of this mental cage i am in.

There's nothing special about me

at least as far as i can see.

Sometimes i think the winds will come blow me away

and there'll be no proof i was once here.

I try to think about things to make me stray

but thoughts of disappointing people i cannot bear.

I wonder how it would feel to let go,

to be free from all responsibility.

No matter how tempting, it can never be so,

I have to wipe out all negativity.

There's nothing special about me

I just want to be free.

My Easter Basket of Eggs

Ah, the Easter season. For some of us, it was a holiday. A chance to go home and catch up on lost time with the family. I spent mine with my mum. Hilarious choice. My mum is an acquired taste. You have to understand her to understand her. Sometimes we don't. However, we understand. Are you with me so far?

She picked me from the airport and spent the one hour drive home talking to me about school and asking me about my boyfriend. Harmless huh? that's what i thought until we got to a wedding the next day and she was analyzing if i could get married to him.

My mum has an MSc in law. Good for her. Bad for us. Everything we say, can and will probably be used against us in the nearest future. Plus she never accepts when she is wrong. Arguing with her is like trying to tell a raging bull to stop; you will get run down.

Anyways, back home, im enjoying the food. My mum thinks im skinny so i have been asked to eat a lot. I obey this without any hesitation. I'm stuffing on chicken and turkey like it was thanksgiving.
Then she starts complaining that im at home too much. She wants me to go out. A friend of mine is having a house party. My mum says 'NO' I go out too much. Then she tells me i eat too much.

I'm counting down the hours until i leave. One hour to my departure time, we are having an argument over where the departure terminal is located. I win this, but she finds a way to turn it around.

I hug her and wave goodbye as i get checked-in. 'I'm going to miss my mum' i think as i compose a text to my dad. I'm definitely spending my next holiday with him.

What can i be but a friend?

I remember when the right phrase used to cause a rush of thoughts through my head. I heard something today and i knew it was the right inspiration but i could not find the right words to express myself. Is this how writer's block feels?

I'm still looking for the perfect cure for a broken heart. No, not my heart. I've learnt the hard way that life is not all about the good. The truth is, until i find that perfect cure for her, i cannot be anything but a friend. 

The feeling you get when someone you are crazy about says you're a good friend, is that equivalent to when a lover ends the relationship? 

A friend of mine once wished for a blue pill. Yes, just like the matrix. What if there was a pill that could erase all the feelings we had for a particular person?

P.s I think i should have titled this post unanswered questions but i like this title.hehe

A remedy for a broken heart

There's a subtle flutter that goes through my tummy when i hear his voice. It's like a soft breeze. Yet, it envelopes me like a warm blanket. I get a strong urge to smile and most times i give in and let this urge engulf me. I am a pro at removing non related thoughts so i can work. However, i find myself drifting to thoughts of him. The urge to smile has come again. Unconsciously, i wait for that special call. I do not know i am doing this until my phone rings and it is not him. I am overwhelmed by my disappointment. He knows i have missed him. Sometimes i try to feign anger because it has been so long since we have spoken. He quenches my charade with a few words. I countdown the hours, minutes, seconds until i am in his arms.

The hairs on the back of her neck stand whenever he is near. Memories of his fingers brushing her neck sadden her. She moves to make a quick exit. Seeing him will break her resolve. She tries to work to forget his voice. Thoughts of him run through her head. She has to call someone, a friend, to make her smile. What would she do if he called? The urge to breakdown and confess her sorrow overwhelms her. She fights with all her might and proceeds with a facade that she has moved on. She hopes he does not realize the cracks in her composure. She wishes for a moment in future when all feelings will melt to indifference. What is the cure for a broken heart?

When an egg floats

There's dust everywhere. We try to keep the dust out but it gets back in. Its in our shoes, on our beds and in the bathtub. The air-conditioner has packed up. its cooler outside than in my room. I can't function properly under these circumstances. So i'm writing this on the roof of the cafeteria building. There's a little breeze tickling my cheeks. I know my face is white because i forgot to bring along a scarf. However, the thoughts i can feel rushing through my head make this worth it.

Some days back, Eno was boiling some eggs. I watched her scoop one out and proceed to throw it out. I asked her and she replied "it was floating, its obviously bad". I felt this was wrong. Even humans are treated this way. Does being different make us bad? 

I saved that egg because i thought i could relate to it. I used a felt tip pen to write 'I am special' on it. Yesterday, i was in the bathroom when i heard my roommate ask "what is this?' this was followed by a splat. Yes, she threw it away. 

P.s. I googled it and apparently, when an egg floats, its actually bad, but thats beside the point.

A few steps to hell and back

I am writing this post with tears in my eyes. I cannot say for sure
if they are tears of happiness or sorrow. What I do know for sure
is that they sting. I can taste their saltiness as they run past
my mouth and I wonder if my eyes are red yet. I am waiting for news.
News that will change my life.

The past few weeks have revealed a lot to me about myself.
I used to be scared of being alone, so I surrounded myself with
people that ended up hurting me. I used to base my decisions
on how other people would feel. Now, I've learnt that the best
decision is the one where you choose to do good. Not everyone will
like this. Some may even hate you for this. But in the end,
you'll be happy. I know I sound like this is my will,
but you'll soon understand.

December 2009, my doctor 'proposed' that I had a form of cancer
known as Choriocarcinoma. People who know me always jokingly
ask "what disease have you not gotten?" This is because I usually
fall ill. Even though, this news made me cry. I told my sister.
Only my sister. Two weeks ago, I finally gathered the courage
to get a test done. This time, I told no one. I did not want
to put anyone through the suspense. So I went through it alone.

I'm presently waiting for the results of my test.
I hate hospitals. The smell drives me crazy. I watch people
setting appointments and wonder what ailments they have.

The lab technician walks out of the lab. I can see he's holding
my file. He walks towards my doctor's office and returns empty
handed. I count to ten and a nurse asks me to go into his office.

Now he's reading the file. He doesn't complain about my phone.
I wonder what he sees. He's looking at me and saying nothing.
I have to drop my phone.




It's negative.

Contentment in a foreign year

Ive been away for quite a while. Blogging is like driving a car. If you don't drive for a while, you will always remember how it's done but you'll forget those little tips and tricks. Anyway, i'm back and that's all that matters.
2009 was so last year but it was an awesome year. I laughed and i cried. This year, i started with a new year's resolution just like everyone else. I cannot even remember what my resolution was. oh, yeah, i remember now. I decided to stop planning before i did everything. I planned to be more spontaneous if that makes sense. The truth is, i am who i am. I cannot stop planning. I love planning.

So far so good. However, i think i do have a new year resolution i'm gonna stick with. I plan to enjoy myself no matter what. I'm gonna have fun this year. i'm not talking about putting myself in situations just because someone else says it will be fun. i'm talking about doing those things that make me happy. This includes snuggling under my duvet wit a warm cup of tea and reading a Steven King novel ;). What makes you happy?