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.