omg 20what

i cant write angst!!!! omg! idk why!
anyway...2012 recap?? because i live for clichés n shit like that yo.


THE BAD
well
1- i got my ickle heart bruised abit. it sucks that this is the first thing im putting down...but chronological order n shizz.
it sucked. like all break ups do, except the ones where i hate you for being a spineless bastard n cannot take anymore of your crap again. #insert Decode-Paramore#  face it...at some point....you have been Decode'd and thats cause.....are you even a man at all? flash us that vag...Anne Hathaway style :)
...but this break up was chilled out. mummy had me go to church and pray. lol. no.


2- FLUUUNK.
heh. law school kicked my butt! third year first semester was horrrriiiiiiiiid. i kid you not! i had like two resits. well bye bye first class....or second class...perhaps even lower second class honors. how bad is that? guh. that was fucking horrible! almost dropped out! but the fuck would i do? Bcom? eew.

3-le mummy sick.
worst days ever. like. ever. i cant even talk about it.

4-le daddy
step daddy passed on. i could tell you i still see him at random corners and it sucks, but that goes without saying. this is the first christmas we didnt spend with him. sucks? totes.

5-TDKR
shittiest movie ever. the disappointment that was served on Nolans fake teeth will be explained in the next post.
i think this is the only Bale movie i had to put my disco light dildo away. like WHAT

6- Nephew snitching that i smoke.
two year olds are the devils!!! gorgeous fantastic devils...but devils! my nephew, told my bubbah, my sister and bro in law...with illustrations yeah, that i smoke. no one called me out on it...but imagine the two days before i realised i actually dont give a fuck.

7-mum finds Lolas porn. need i say more?
8- world didnt fucking end. fuck you.


THE GOOD

FRIENDS
i made fucking amazing friends this year. for awhile i had no life whatsoever in mombasa. and now i do. it was horrible trying to be fucking social. soul draining shit. i cant even single them out.because i would take ages, n maybe end up crying.

MALINDI
the biffle's bro's wedding was in Malindi. the other biffle came down from Nai. it was amazing. i wore a scandalously short dress that was technically a shirt. and i rocked it.

MUGOs
y'all know him as astoldbybobby. if you dont, you obviously arent as cool as i thought. anyway, turned his place into a fortress of debauchery over the holidays. had coffee or vodka for breaky the whole fucking time. and then we dicovered those 80bob beers with le mookie. dont fucking judge us, we had to save the money for pizza.

BIRTHDAY
how perfect was my birthday?? pretty fucking perfect! i was to write a post, but my battery was low so no pics.
i wrote a paper on biodiversity, got tested cause....world AIDS day, went to some bazaar where i got a pretty cool alice band and Spongebob goodies.
went to Covo. had sushi with the girl. the chilled out on the beach with the best friends and drank wine off a fucking cool pitcher.

the BFF is here n her birthday is tomows so expect pics

COMING OUT
haaaaarrrrrr. i came out to my mummy. its cool. she's cool. bet you wish we could swap mums. it went something like...i like girls. dont hate me. n she was like. whatever man, du want chicken for dinner. i wish i was joking.

GIRL
...the reason i cant write angst is because im dating a twelve year old(pedowhatnow) girl with gorgeous eyes that has turned me into a big pile of mush. seriously. January Lola would throw up all over our hands.
but January Lola...has nothing on December Lola.

because i have grown up. this year was pretty balanced out i think, or i was balanced out. shit got bad at some point, and i got through it. laxed up and shit got fucking smooth again.

here is to hoping 2013 is twice as sane. because at the end of the day, sanity is all that matters.
tata bitches

still coming home for christmas

I hate Christmas. I hate Christmas more than I hate your cold feet in the mornings.

I hate Christmas more than I hate those phone calls. You know which ones.

The ones that make you look at me as if you will never see me again, gods I hate that look.

I hate Christmas so much, that is why its two days to it, and there is no tree with blinking lights.

I love to bake, but I will not bake on Christmas.

I have not baked any Christmas treats during the festivities for three years.

I have not gone home for Christmas for three years.

I will not even drink eggnog on or about Christmas. Because I hate Christmas.

I hate Christmas so much…more than I hate it when I hear her name. oh we all know

How much I cannot stand her. Especially during Christmas.

I hate Christmas because you, my love, are not here,

Where are your dastardly cold feet on Christmas morning?

Where is your drunk smile over a glass of brandy on Christmas Eve? When we sit and think of three years ago when everything was bright

Fuck I hate the smell of pine on Holidays, I hate it so much I throw out your aftershave.

Its because I hate Christmas that I am still in bed.

Not you.

Never you.

You ruined Christmas.

With your loud absence.

Thinking of you, always hurts,

Because I never know when you will show up on my door step again.

I wonder if you miss me on Christmas. With your wife.

With your arms full of a warm body.

With my arms empty of you.

Tomorrow, it will be okay,

I will remember that you are not mine,

And it will be okay,

And I will see you when you come knocking, you always knock, even though it does not matter

And I will smile when you take out your bottle of brandy, because you will not listen otherwise,

And it wont hurt so much when you play that record

“so if you have a minute why don’t we go,

Talk about it somewhere only we know”

And you will tell me about your week….its never more than a week.

And I will listen, and you will smile because you know I will always listen.

But not this week, this is Christmas, and I hate it,

Even when I know I am the one who didn’t show up for Christmas…three years ago

I know it must be hard to sit and wait for me all over again.

But you know I was coming home for Christmas.

I just didn’t see the truck loose control.

Just you…and a blinding light.

Three years ago, I was late for Christmas.

Three years late,

A few more years await.

I hate Christmas.

Because I know you will always remember I never made it back home.

Sunday Morning

so, this little blogger has been away for a while...did i post the last month? i don't know...this is a random post though.
also, i have been dedicating blog posts to friends, and special fans, and i wish, and hope i will still do that.
this one is for my special fan, papi, its humbling how you think of my crazy head.

...and for the rest of you, i will introduce.... Sunday mornings. i think we have established i have a bit of a domestic fetish ;)



Sunday Morning

its the rain i hear, and your breath on my neck,
Sunday morning at its best,
all tangled limbs and soft sighs,
hair in my face,
Sunday mornings are best when you move in closer...so close,
and you mold into me,
chest to back,
curves and soft skin
Sunday mornings are best, cause then i watch you wake up,
when you stretch just like that, and get closer,
Its on Sunday Morning i forget, that there is a world outside me and you.

Because you promised me once, that the world can have us the whole week, at all times,
but Sunday Mornings will always be ours,
and Sunday Mornings that find us apart, are the worst yet,

when Helena, in the garden looked upon Demetrius, and told him, when she has him in her sights, the whole world is right in front her, because he is her world.

what sentimental bullshit,
but on Sunday mornings, you are all i see,
all i touch
we belong to the world, only because we are the world
the very definition of it.

and Sunday mornings are for pancakes
and the horrible coffee you make
and cold kisses on my neck

and we can pretend the world doesn't exist.
and its okay that tomorrow is fast approaching
because we have other Sunday mornings to look forward to.




Sunday Morning- Maroon 5

happy Jamhuri Day

life in technicolour

its so bright, inside your head, the colours are so bright.
you wish it was the good kind of bright, but its not, it blinds you, and everything is moving too fast
and you can't see straight, you can't concentrate.
life in technicolour

it makes you dizzy, and you feel like you constantly want to throw up.

you walk down the street during the day, wait what? how can it be you walking?
but it is you, you see yourself, haha, this is insane, you are insane, but there you are, walking down the street, but not quite walking down the street. but walking down the street.

or it looks like you.

you walk side by side with yourself. you know where you are meant to be going. how you know this, you dont fucking know, you just know you are about to....sneeze right now. and somehow you just stopped. you dont know why either.

you hate it when this happens so suddenly. it was okay an hour ago, you know your name, you know the colour of your eyes, you know how much you weigh. you know that you have just eaten.
but here you are, you don't quite know why you are full, and why does your skin feel so strange, why is it tingly/
"when this happens to you, am going to ask you to try not to panic" they said.

BUT HOW THE FUCK CAN YOU NOT PANIC WHEN YOU ARE LOSING YOUR BODY??

somehow you are walking faster.
'stop'
faster
'no'
faster
'please'
and you get home. and no. you are still not you.
no one is home yet. its so eerily quiet the realization that its not you walking to the bathroom hits you harder.
why are you taking that bottle of pills?
stop
stop
'its okay' the other one says, 'we will make it stop' she whispers
then she takes a pill.
'it didnt work'
'you lied'
  and you dont know why you are taking another pill. but the prickly feeling in your skin won't stop.

try to breathe. you cant, because he is doing it.

and you dont know how to breathe.
and you want to feel.
and you need to feel anything beside the blood beneath the skin that is not yours.


and your phone rings, and you watch yourself pick it up.

'remember to breathe'
the reminder says
'band practice in ten minutes'
and somehow a thrill goes through your spine. YOUR spine.
oh.
okay.
'good thing you hid those blades idiot'
you laugh.
OH.
and you know its YOU laughing, because you can feel the tears falling down,
and you're crying, and laughing, and you must look half mad standing in the tub laughing and crying at the same time, but you wouldn't know because you can't see it.
so you breathe.




for Rikku

Elusive Light, Elusive Darkness. of wishes and wizards

when the day is bright, so bright infact, you need a pair of sunnies to block that harsh glare from the sun,

and automatically, it is somehow a sign of life. you think that maybe, its because you hate the dark, or is it all of mankind? all these little sayings and anecdotes that have been thrown around for years and years, 

"its always darkest before the dawn"

 you wish everyday, that when you woke up, its a little bit brighter.

but all that surrounds you is darkness. not pitch black, that, you feel would have been way better, when its dark, you stay put, everyone stays put, its over, its dark. the silence and the mood, is peaceful. the kind of darkness that sleep doesn't provide anymore. the kind of darkness that you feel needs no music to set a tone..the kind of darkness where everyone leaves you alone. the kind of darkness only death will bring it seems.

..no, the darkness that surrounds you is a shade that reminds you of wispy fog. and everyone expects you to navigate through it every morning. because it is expected. as long as there is a ray of light, you get up, and it doesn't matter if by the end of your route, you are bleeding and sore because you stepped on too many poisonous shards, or that you hit your head on a tree that you did not see coming. or you were run over by a train because dear heavens, there was a train track? as long as you are breathing, by the end of the route, regardless of the gashing wounds and parched throats, you have to do it again, and again, until its too dark. oh the darkness, how you crave it. sometimes you fancy that you spy it, but then the blasted light at the end of the tunnel shines through...and you have to keep going.

this never ending cycle of light and foggy mist, makes you wonder if this is all there is to your life. 

natural lighting makes a good background for a beautiful picture. but the shades in your life are not backgrounds. everything else is. to be so consumed by this battle that is; should i step into the fog again? is it time for darkness yet? that you forget that there are people on the sidelines cheering you on. pushing you, drawing you into that everlasting light that you only get rays of it seems.

"today was a bad day" she says, she didnt turn in her work on time and got chewed and spit out. but its okay, she calls the love of her life and a joke is shared and the dementors are no more.

"today is a bad day" you say, because you woke up and that knot in your stomach has grown in size, because its monday, the world of the living calls out to you, and you swallow that lump in your throat when you can't decide whether to have muesli or bran for breakfast, but it doesnt matter anyway because you hate them both, but its monday, you cant have pancakes on monday. and the dementors swoop in and you spend your day thinking of a patronus that you start to believe never existed in the first place. 

but as long as its not absolute darkness you have the damned muesli and you face the world....only its foggy, and the masses smell like dead people, and you know this because you went to see a friend at the funeral home, and it was like, 'oh, so thats the stench i have been having under my nose.'

you wonder if you smell like a corpse too. 

if only wishes came true, you wouldnt have to wonder.


for sammy

ta-ta darlings

games we play...sequel???

its about 2a.m in the morning, sitting here, with a glass of merlot on the armrest of my chaise. the only light is from the stars, the moon, the blinking lights from the sea, the lighthouse to my far right and the red glow of the cigarette in my fingers.

the scent in the air is invigorating. the sharp tang of sea salt and weeds, the smell of the palm trees, my cigarette, and the smell of lingering perfume on my skin. your scent.
 as i lean back on the chaise to check on your sleeping form, the wind picks up abit, and a light thunder rolls, the call of a quick rolling summer rain. it make s me feel so alive, to witness the beginnings of life giving showers. this is what it feels like, i cant help but think, to witness the world in its element. a battle of sorts, between the stars and the clouds, the sea and the rain.

right on cue, a big fat raindrop hits my cheek, cools it. and i cannot move right now, and i watch my cigarette get put out by the random drops and my wine get diluted, impurified, by what is all pure from the heavens, and i feel the goosebumps on my skin, and the robe i have on sticks to my skin, as though it wants to mold itself into me, the way you did earlier...and just like that, my thoughts are back on you, but i need not turn to see if you are sleeping peacefully, you were always one for the rain. i remember, once upon a time, we would sit up and talk on the steps of your mother's porch, until the early hours of the morning, when people started going to work, and we would head back to your room and sleep. i remember when it started raining, mid confessions of love, and you took my hand, led me into your room, and oh my heavens when you dropped the soaked blanket, and the tee shirt you sleep in was stuck to you, and i couldnt tear my eyes away from you, and my mouth felt suspiciously dry...and there we were shivering in our night clothes, soaked to the bone, and i knew for the first time what it was to be so consumed with want that you want to weep. and the look in your eyes, as if you knew, and when you told me later, you got tired of waiting, got tired of the little kisses we shared...and you didnt know that before you lifted your hands and undressed i thought of you as my perfect little snowflake, so pure and sweet..so tender..and how after you leant in and took my tee shirt off, i was scared i was going to burn you with the intensity of my need. the wantonness of my desires. so unpure and ugly and-

you interrupt my train of thought, but that's okay, because i was so close to wake you up, to show you that everytime it rains, i dont sleep because i remember...always remember...
...it seems you do too...because you step into the balcony naked as the day you were born, only more...grown up. and you sit on my lap, and bury your face in my neck, shivering a little.
"you should put some clothes on"
"you should come back to bed"

you smile, because this happens everytime we come here, I want to witness the day being born, you want to be fucked against the railing of the balcony, and this is how it always starts.

but today, with the now light drizzle, and the orange tint of the sky, and memories of the past, i feel abit sentimental, and I cant help but think...
"marry me"
 you laugh, and for a minute my whole world stops, and i want to take it back, maybe ten years is not enough to know that you cant stand it when someone leaves, maybe we fight too much. oh my god maybe she fucks other people, and im the only one who feels this way.
"stop it"
and i look up into your eyes because when you use that tone it means am always in trouble. and your face is cold, and closed, and the word snowflake fleets through my mind. and i have never in my life been scared except perhaps for when my mother fell ill. and my heart breaks when you open your mouth; and im watching that beautiful mouth open and it takes me a minute to hear what you say because im trying to memorize it  for when you surely dump my ass...but then..
"you dont have a ring"
and am shaking my head..
"get me a ring"
and you are smiling, and i want to absolutely murder you, then hump your leg to orgasm, but then you kiss me, and i think maybe its better i f i kept you alive.




A/N: writing this from the head, so unplanned. and scared my boss is gonna walk in!

also...if you havent noticed, these posts are for the girl i will marry, hopefully i will propose more eloquently, and elegantly...but i know she will say yes.

ciao bellas

numbers in my head

every week day, at exactly 5:30 a.m...your alarm goes off. exactly 15 minutes of snooze time.
so basically you wake up at 5:45a.m
..Always get out of bed from the right side. no matter what side you wake up on. the bed cannot be next to the wall. its exactly four steps from the left wall. four steps to the right to your window seat that is exactly two feet long and two feet wide. with a side table that is one by one in feet. the table has one peach vase, with four peach calla lilies that are freshened up every Tuesdays. when you wake up, you take two minutes, to fill in your dream diary.

always the same:
time of getting into bed: 9:30
time of sleep: 10:p.m
 in between, you read your entry from last nights dream. and count exactly 82 white sheep before you fall asleep. you turn off your lamp at 9:56p.m

focus.

when you wake up. you take four steps to your right. to your four by four foot window seat and open the drapes. then you pick up the yoga mat that is two paces to your right and two paces to your left from your boudoir. and you take 24 paces across the room to your door. turn on two lights.

from your bedroom door, it takes 32 paces to your kitchen. you turn on the kettle and take 16 paces to the bathroom door. four paces to the loo. at exactly 6a.m you take a piss. at 6:02 your lax kicks in. at 6:10 you have washed your face. and there is a green mug full of black steaming coffee. exactly four tablespoons for two mugs. its two steps from the kettle to the refrigerator, and two steps from the refrigerator to the microwave, that is two steps to be blender, that is two steps across from the water dispenser that is 8 steps from the cooker and oven that is six steps from the kitchen table.

it takes 4minutes for your coffee to steep, an extra two minutes to get to the right temperature. 42 degrees Celsius on a cold day like today. in those six minutes you do your morning stretching Pilates. exactly 4 sets of 20 reps of 8 moves. four songs.

at 6:16 you take your first cup of coffee and have it in the living room exactly 16 paces from your kitchen door. you seat on the couch that is two paces from the armchair that is two paces from your fireplace, and four paces to the love seat that is four paces to the bay window. that you don't like because its two centimeters crooked but you shrug cause you cant have everything.

at 6:20 you take a shower that lasts exactly 4 minutes. two minutes soap, two minutes rinse. you like the feel of the hot water on your skin. at 6:24 you get ready. you wear clothes you set out last night at 9:25. you feel like purple today, but its not Thursday so you wear black. its only tomorrow.

at 6:28 you put exactly half a cup of muesli in the bowl that you keep on a shelf two inches above your microwave with a spoon from the perch two inches from that shelf. exactly one cup of 50% cream milk and half a banana. gods you hate Wednesdays.
at 6:32 exactly eight banana pieces with the second spoonful of each count of 16 you wash your bowl and leave it to dry. you have your second cup of coffee.

you think about your day. and cross check your to-do list, diary and journal. at exactly 6:40 you leave for work. you always walk. cars can be so unreliable. traffic, and the wrong number of cars infront of you. just like you always take the stairs to the sixth floor. exactly 180 steps. elevators are dirty. and they would never allow you to admit four people per trip. and what if you get stuck??? with all those germs and people with the wrong length of ties and shoe laces. they would extract a comatose body by the time you get to your floor. like that time everyone thought you wouldn't notice if they moved your desk half an inch to the left... THE LEFT??!!! and you stabbed yourself with a pen because you didn't know what was happening...everything just felt so...wrong...and crawly..and wrong...and itchy and you had to make it stop.

but here you are....in front of the elevator...because the doctor says you have to try. TRY. the imbecile has the wrong level of nails. he wants you to trust your VERY EXISTENCE into his uneven nailed hand. but here you are... it might not be bad..you chant. especially when Cillian with the green eyes and black hair you want to smell smiles at you and waves you over......

(tbc...?)

ahoi

really now, i won't even try to apologize for my absence, it was unwarranted, and it was mainly due to general laziness. but...forgive me?? its not that i haven't had shit to write about; oh darling i have a country full of shit to write about...bu like i said....laaaazy.

anyway,school is back in!! i was surprisingly a social whore this break. lol. am not even kidding, i can count in one hand, with a finger or two to spare, how many weekends, i have spent not sober. it was fucking amazing though why lie?
oh boooo i don't feel like giving you an account of shizz,it boring. wait for a twisted version, with possibilities of blood and more drugs than i can consume. also, if you knw where i can get MDMA, or acid, holla. kidding. maybe. not reaallly, yeah, am  kidding...or am i?:P
anyhu...gtg

words on skin

blood.
blood.
its always about the blood.
the blood in your veins, the blood on the previously pristine white sheets.
the blood on the ropes digging into your wrists. into your ankles.
the blood he....harvests from your body.
fresh, vibrant.
the smell of it...iron, salt, and lord....freedom.

the air is ripe with it. it makes you go crazy...sends tingles down your spine. harsh breathing, whimpers, soft sighs, soft questions...
" do you like that baby?" he whispers into your ear, and runs his fingers soothingly over your ass. his ass. everything is his. your body, mind...and yes, your heart.
you whimper when he digs his nails into a fresh cut...you rub yourself on the sheets, you need friction, something, anything. tense is not a word to describe just how tight you are sprung right now. literally. it must be the loss of blood, it might be the X in your blood, but that thought makes you want to laugh, and you would have, if not for the gag in your mouth. you nod. yes, always yes.
he knows what you are doing...rubbing yourself off like that on the sheets like a bitch in heat. he likes that. so he presses your body deeper into the mattress...and you moan when you feel the swell of the sheets between your legs. the proof of his need on your thigh like that. and he lets go....and you cant stop rubbing yourself..humping, clenching...close...oh..oh so..so close...gonna cum....cummi..

the blow comes swiftly, fast, hard, unforgiving. you cry out, and you feel the tears sting at the corners of your eyes. and again. and again.. and again. you know your back, ass and thighs are a piece of art right now. a painting...all red purple and swollen. by his hand. he is the artist, and your body the canvass of his work. such an honour.....it is such an honour to serve him like this.

he turns you to your back..so gentle, so soft, and you wince when your back touches the bed...but its okay, you can see his face now, his beautiful face, his beautiful haunted eyes, dark with need and arousal (i cant believe that line:author. loool) . so sad...he is so sad, but he won't, can't stop....for you, always for you. sometimes, you don't know who the master is, who is leading who, in this dance of yours.

remember the first time, so many insults, so many arguments, so bitter, he threw a punch, called you a bitch. and you fell to your knees and sucked him off. despite the horrified look on his face, and the shame in his eyes, he let you. and later, you wouldn't let him take you to the hospital. and when he tried to hold you...you walked out. and he got the message.

and here you are...legs spread wide, fuck leaking on to the sheets. you can smell it in the air.

blood. sweat. semen. sex.

and you feel alive.

he runs his fingers over your face..so beautiful he whispers. you are so fucking beautiful baby- pant- you should see yourself angel. and his fingers stop at the gag in your mouth. runs rough pad over sensitive skin.and you tremble...because he knows what you want...and he will give it to you.

he kisses you despite the gag. he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. bites your upper lip. all wet, spit running down your face. lick, bite, suck...more.

after that first day, he would never touch your face. he said, the day he touches your face, will be the day its all over. for good....he doesn't know just how true that statement is.

he leaves the bed abruptly, and you are left counting the starts behind your eye lids.

he comes back...and you scream. through the gag, its muffled, but your lungs are protesting..oh the pain. oh the joy, oh the ecstasy of a hot so fucking hot knife on your ribs.
 it burns and you bleed.
like his kisses.
his touches.

he carves his initials on your chest. between your tits. such a sap, the love of your life is. the best. and he carves deeper into your tummy. above your navel. he carves your hip bones.

oh so much blood.
you feel so lightheaded...and you think you might pass out when you feel the knife in your inner thigh.

maybe you do...because for a second, its all black, when he thrusts into you so hard, and all you can focus on is him. inside, you. all over you. in you. up and down you. so fast. and he carves some more.

thrust. slice. blood.

thrust. slice. blood.

yes.

he rips off the gag. and its funny how now you have nothing to scream. he fucks the breath out of you. and you want more.

its sticky between you. the blood, gods the blood. and the sweat makes it sting, and your mouth waters at the thought. and he carves your thigh, deeper. and he is horrified, as the blood pumps out in rhythm with your weak pulse. and now you scream.

"that's it baby." pant. grunt. groan. "sing for me angel"
and you sing. and he kisses you. tongues wet. soft. more. baby...

your pulse falters, he clutches at your neck. and squeezes. in time with his fucking. and its glorious.

"do you want to cum?"
"yes." always yes.
"then cum"

his eyes on you. his hand on your neck. harder, deeper, tighter...tighter..tighter...and its all black now. nothing but his pants. his moans, his groans.

he lets go...and you're brought back to earth by the feel of steel on your cheek. breath hitches. its over.

"this is the last time." he whispers...and he cuts. meticulous. beautiful. oh it hurts, and you cant help but smile. he is making you so pretty. tears mingle with the blood on your cheeks...and he smiles back.

"i love you."
you laugh. so weak. " you are such a sap"

he pulls out and lies next to you.
you take the knife.....and carve your initials on his chest.

the sheets are saturated with blood and proof of your orgasms.

he smiles.."who's the sap again."

always you you whisper...and he closes his eyes.

and you press the tip of the knife to his heart. and you press. its hard. so you press harder. his eyes open in confusion, fear...betrayal...but you smile.

"i love you"

and you put all your weight on that knife...and realization   dawns on him. and before his eyes go dull. he smiles,

"sap"
you won't cry.

whoever finds you...will find the proof of your love on your chests.
so you lay your head on his now still chest...and you let go.







(i feel like i should apologize for any trauma caused. but i wont.)

apologies of the mind

.darlings,
i apologise for my absence. i have reasons of course, but for all who know me, know i don't apologise if i don't mean it. and my reasons are alot, and i feel they will ed sounding like whines...and i just cant...
...i wont promise you that it won't happen again though...this little post is basically to thank you all for reading my posts....like really, when i started this, i wasn't aware just how overwhelming it will be to let someone else read my work...i hardly ever, i can count on one hand before this, when i gave someone my work to read, essays not included...and the feedback has been amazing..i cant...i cant even explain it.

This shout out goes to Olivia Lee, you will find her on the previous comments box...she is an astounding writer, and dare i say friend? i have known her for close to a year, and her work is amazing. she inspired me to start this by the way...how she writes, and how her words flow...and for her to praise my blog in that way, its just something else altogether.

and everyone else i can't mention, with your inboxes, and your comments,they just make make my days.
so this post, is to let you know, that i appreciate it, i felt like a douche preening, somewhat reluctantly, to your lovely comments, without letting you all know just how happy they make me...i dint think the thank yous i say are enough.

also...i wont lie, ive been going through a crap time lately..i went on a self imposed isolation awhile back so i don't infect you all with my sour disposition and generally maudlin thoughts. it was sweet for all those who called, and am sorry i never picked up, or texted back.....it was nothing personal, for all i know, my moods are like a virus, might get infected by reading a text.lols. no, really.


and finally, i have various posts in mind, i just cant decide on which one to put down. the most recent idea was abit out there...like it would be an 11 on a scale of madness from 1 to 10...abit of BDSM, am sure you saw that coming, with possible he saddest ending ever.

another post, i will summarise as....disturbed, mind play.looool.

and....one of my biffles posted a blog on wordpress...royhatesyouall on wordpress...go read his latest post...am thinking of countering that post...ladies....do you want me to tell the men shit they do that makes us want to cause grievous body harm?

so you all let me know...oh yeah...a lovely blogger asked me to post a link for her sex toy shop...so y'all look at them flesh coloured dildos and magenta vibrators and buy buy buy...some of you could use anal beads too.
http://www.facebook.com/EstranosToys

ta-ta


p.s...sorry for the typos, can't be bothered to spell check tbh.looool.mwa

little games we play

pasta.

you can smell it in the air when you let yourself in.

you don't know whether to smile, or be worried.

"baby is that you?"

"its the Grim..or your italian lover"

she laughs...a light little tinkle..

you smile now, its good to be back home. she walks in, barefoot, gods you love her barefoot, there is always some vulnerability with naked feet. maybe you just have a foot kink. but you love it.

even more when she smiles like that, and literally drapes herself over you like that..a soft live warm blanket. so fucking soft. she holds on a little bit too tight, she smells like vanilla ice cream and warm coffee. 

" i miss you, go take a bath. you smell horrible" she whispers.

"i missed you too." 

its a lovely bath, peach scented candles, lavender bath salts.

definitely something to worry about. 

she is being too nice, granted, you haven't been home in three weeks...but you have been gone for longer, and you know she hasn't been lonely.

"did i forget something?"

 you ask as you walk into the kitchen, to a set table, you were right,

pasta, some fancy sauce, and more candles,

groan. dammit, you forgot an important date, what stupid thing are you meant to remember right now.

she smiles again, tilts her head to the right, just as she knows, you like it. her red curls escape from her messy bun. its good to be back home.

" you know, if i was bad, i would make you think that, just so i can get an expensive gift from you, say, like those thigh high boots we saw-"

she breaks off and looks at you quizzically, as you attempt to keep a bland face.

" what boots?"

her smile turns feral, it would have scared you five years ago, when all your games were meant to wound, unlike now, when all your games are mischievous and naughty. she knows...she knows you know she knows that you might have gotten her those ridiculously expensive shoes.

the ones that make her look like sex on a stick. milla fucking jovovich in a battleship.

"babe...where are you hiding them?"

..."i dont know what you are talking about"

"umph, fine. sit down and eat then."

the meal was lovely, she is an amazing cook. if it wasn't for clothes, she would have been a sight n the kitchen, in her white uniform and spatula, that thought is disturbingly arousing.

your favorite place in the whole flat, is your study, because of the smell of your books, the dark wood and antique lamps you have randomly placed on top of dusty books. and the fireplace at the corner of the room. it reminds you of the dreams you both had, especially now, when you are sitted on your warm armchair and she is curled up on your lap, reading from the same book, with an expensive bottle of wine perched on the arm rest. remember when all you had was a little studio apartment, and the only wine you could afford was cheap and came from a box? remember working six different jobs between the two of you and intrusively cold mornings? remember the tears, and the fights, and good Lord the make up sex on the roof top.

it seems like a lifetime ago...candlelit dinner from a box, on the floor. when you would dream of what you have now.

she snuggles closer.

urgh, this is too fucking domestic for your taste. 

"kitty, there's something i got you, go find it"

you tell yourself you just want her off your lap. its true. ofcourse. 

you only cuddle after particularly good sex.

she scrambles off and throws you one of those gods-so-sexy smirks and leaves. like she knows something you dont. you hate her sometimes.

she yells your name. really yells it. fuck if she doesn't like it. its impossible to please her. 

you walk into the room and you find yourself an armful of horny willing woman..all wet lips and roving hands.

you knew she would like it. who was worried, definitely not you. pssht.

back to the woman trying to suck your soul through your mouth. when she kisses you like this, like she cant live without her mouth fastened on yours, you think maybe perhaps you dont hate her...especially when she whimpers just like that, presses you into the wall just like so, slips her hands into your pants just there..moans into your ear-

"i missed you, fuck...i want you"

you laugh, because dammit...its well worth it that you spent an insane amount of money on a Jean Paul Gaultier red jacket that she knows you know goes well with the boots you 'didnt-get-her'

she is materialistic...and thank heavens you can both afford to spend money on stupid expensive gifts for each other, you want to think of the customized gold little ball with wings she got you last month, but she pulls away...and oh gods, pulls off her top. you fucking missed being home.

....in bed, all nimble fingers, tangled legs and bruised lips, and she's panting, and she's moaning, and she's twisting around on top of you like that..and she lowers her head and her ass like that...and you have handfuls of soft round ass.

"baby...fuck...gods, baby.."

 she always jokes that you only call her baby when you want something or both of you have your heads buried in wet places.

she laughs.

and oh God, the tremors, through her tongue fastened on that little engorged point, and its all you can think about....getting off, and she holds your hips like that, and you hold her ass like that, and you cant get enough...and she tenses, and you can feel it, oh shit, and somehow, she does more, and it gets better..and you are out of your mind, and she's fucking you..and you fucking her...her mouth, your mouth, and she screams.........

you always wake up for a morning run on weekends, but dammit, after an 11hour flight, you deserve to sleep in on weekends.

...you wake up alone though, its okay, who gives a fuck. not you, obviously.

shower, warm, abit oversensitive at places, it was a good night.

you try not to be surprised when you walk into the kitchen and find her sitted on the counter going through your mail. naked. red boots.

with the sunlight streaming in like that, making her hair shine just a little bit, it overwhelms you a little bit.

you both know,

but you pretend you dont.

its these little games you play, 

you pretend she doesn't matter

she pretends she doesn't know that you would never break her heart.

you both pretend you can come and go as you please.

but when the sun is just right,

and she smiles at you, so shy, and dammit, tilts her head like that,

and your heart beats like so, 

and you smile back just like that,

and you walk to her,

and kiss her just like that..slow, tender,

..you both know, its the games you play..

she opens her eyes,

"what was that for?"

shrug.

"just because.."

"yeah?"

"yeah."

"do it again then.."

and you do

die in whips and orgasms

WARNING: drug abuse, self harm, mentions of breathplay, really emo...like slit-my-wrists-kinda emo...no offense.

A little cold...love the cold seeping into your still moist skin.
hands a kimbo
legs at an odd angle.
naked.
so bloody cold.
the tiles, the air coming  in through the hotel's bathroom window.
eyes closed..lips chapped.
if someone walked in..they would think you were dead...died in the most bizzare pose...but that's your thing.
DRAMA QUEEN.
dead.
dead.
how could you not be with the arrays of weapons all over the floor...the pristine white tiles..
pink pills,
white pills,
pretty sky blue pills,
a mirror with three thin white lines,
a bowl with herb,

amber coloured liquid in crystal

your head is buzzing, you have goosebumps all over
nipples perk
gods you wanna fuck.

but you dont want to move.
you cant move.
lethargy

the voice in your head giggles...but nothing changes..fuck you are so fucking high...high...high...high....again, laughter.

eyes still closed.
you wonder if you can take another hit without moving...what is they call it? kenesis?  wuut?? thats not even a fucking word...dammit, you a fucking jedi bitch...use the force..
i would rather be Leia the voice yells..
...Padme is sexy...Natalie Portman..
fuck still horny.
dammit...so fucking stoned..
finally you move...just a bit...grasp at your hips tighter...
now you smile...grabbing your hipbones like that,
feels like you holding a motherfucking trophy.
excitement.
rush.
leeethargy.
run your fingers over your thighs.feel the smoothness
you cant know what is there...except...you do..
maybe you imagine it,
sticky.
so very sticky.
you can see them behind your closed eye lids
crimson gashes.
dried up blood.
dig your nails into it.

you think you have an orgasm.
the phone rings somewhere next to your right ear.voicemail.speaker
" baby where are you?? should we come pick you up? we wanted to be at the club by 1a.m its eleven. we miss you!! cannot wait to see you!!!"
...abit of crazy laughter and catcalls...then another softly...
"you mean you cant wait to see if she is skinnier"
"you are a bitch."
"fuck, still on call"
...someone clears their throat...you smirk.
"ANYWAY BOO....CALL US!!!"
....

friends.
you hate them.
you love them.

...
roll over...finally get up..
walk to the bourdoir.
pick up your brushes...
time to make art.

....concealer...every stroke...hide the bags under your eyes..
stroke....stroke...the purple bruise on your cheek you could never explain.
stroke...stroke...stroke..

...your favourite bit...foundation....literally, wear a mask..with every soft brush...to your jaws...to your hairline..to your neck..

beautiful. hidden imperfections= perfection.

done...down to the flimsy red dress and six inch heels...your colleagues at work wouldnt recognise  you.

slut.

you step out...the door man stares..
blow him a kiss.
when you walked in...you were in a short skirt.
professional.
hair sleeked back.
red lipstick.
briefcase.
rimmed glasses.
pumps..

and you walk out.

red dress.
hair to your waist.
red lipstick.
gold clutch..
gold chocker...to hide finger prints..you shiver when you remember.
you cannot wait.

get to the club.
blow kisses.
skinny mojito....slutty..like you.

and the music...you sway, with your drink held high.
that girl all men secretly wanna leash and whip.
that girl all girls want on their knees, bound.

you are in love.
with death.
and tonight...its in the arms of whoever takes you home..

and tomorrow...if you make it..
back to the board rooms and salad for lunch..
right now...its the poison in your veins, the bruises on your back, the drink in your hand..
your friends at the bar..
and the man walking towards you.

ciao bellas

ramble ramble crazy crazy

oh wow, i got so many views on my last post :) who are these people reading my silly little posts? thank you all the same....i must warn you...this post is angst-filled...mentions of BPD, OCD, and just generally, mature content herein.

i am watching a video of Tom Felton :) i adore him really, and he is making me smile...i have very unhealthy fantasies about him.
...how do i start this post...a friend of mine asked me...let me try and quote
"why are you like this?'
and i stared at her, because i couldn't understand what she meant by that...why am i how? in the context of the convo...i had come from having a mental assessment test done on me. :/ i must say this now...if you are gonna judge me, and my petty little issues...you can leave now...another friend of mine called me an Oreo...black on the white side, white on the inside...and sometimes i don't blame him...because i really do have petty issues, that end up bugging the shite out of me...maybe its because of where, and how i grew up...the urge, the need to leave that world, to be in a better world, and the exposure to so many books. i wish i was ignorant sometimes. i look at random women on the streets, my cousins, and i wonder if i would have as many issues if i were them than i do now...and yes, i know, the grass always seem greener on the other side of the fence.
...i do blame some if not all of my issues on myself. my doctor said i am a perfectionist. a title my sister would gladly wear a crown for....she nit picks on details i find useless...i nit pick on details in my head until i am close to breaking...then never actually doing it.  and even with recognizing this, i cannot change. its just how i am...my head, creates roadblocks...sometimes i think, that if i were to ever lose my memories, i would be unable to gain the back, because my mind will not move away from the boulder written 'MEMORY LOSS' in my head. i will see nothing but those words, hear nothing but those words. but, at times...random memories pop into my head...and gods i wish they were the good memories..but they never are...and i talked to a friend about this particular memory, because it was killing me inside..and because i was told..."Lola, friends are there to listen and talk to you, you should try and open up" and not for the first time, i spit on these words. because my issues always leave my friends not knowing what to do...or maybe its this particular friend. i love him, you know, but we are too alike in that, we never know what to say...whereas, i am very eloquent on paper, and will fill your screen with nonsense that would make sense to you, i can never do face time...i don't know whats wrong...when asked to talk face to face...i become dumb. my voice disappears, and i find that my tongue decided to wear a sweater....but all the while, in my head...i am screaming out my issues...but i am just staring at you...willing you to read my mind...my friend...he is the exact opposite...i taught him how to give hugs :) and he is now one of the best huggers out there, just like clubbing, i dont do social hugging...or touching for that matter..so dear stranger...dont fucking hug me cause you know everyone i am hanging out with. so anyway...this friend, never knows how to reply to texts...im sure if i called, he would talk...but i dont know how to talk...and its an utter mess isnt it.
i forget what i was talking abut...again..i need to go, i need to get to work..i hate it...i hate the girls i work with, because i envy them...i am a student...they have security...they buy me lunch, and ice cream, because its not enough that they are overweight, i have to be over weight too. again. and you cant tell strangers...dont buy me a plate of that...lemme have my non fat coffee...then two hours later...when they buy icecream...ask for another coffee...you just accept and try not to dwell on how your stomach rolls.
...im my facebook...and possibly my mainstream twitter account....maybe tomorrow...if this feeling...this feeling that cripples me...because of a stupid memory doesnt go away...my brain needs a fucking break...euthanasia anyone?
its been awhile since i flatlined...and this calls for a packet of cigarettes on the beach, a floppy hat, sunglasses, and brightly coloured nails. ta

dressed pumpkins and gods of thunder

hiii!!!! it has been far far too long darlings ;) i can explain..
...FINALSSSS!!! my weeks have been filled with four hour sleeps, a million ounces of coffee, too little time for food, and a lot...and i mean, alot...of cramming.
..buuut....my semester ended on Saturday...in all honesty, it feels like a Sunday...despite it being a Monday...but its okay..it can be Sunday all fucking week for the next four months for all i care...its over!!

by the by....i know, i know, i have a pending post to post, its in my draft...i started writing it then i felt guilty about not studying for the Labour Law paper...and eh...had to leave it. i will post it later though :) i have four months to be bored....it will be some sort of list for myself or something..
....Sooo.....SATURDAY!! my final paper was on Saturday afternoon..ikr!! like urgh, who has class, and exams on a bloody saturday afternoon...especially when u live on an island?? well i do. and the morning before that, we had an advocacy presentation -.- where my group, a bunch of over-achieving ponces, decided we should all dress up.

who does that?urgh...
anywayyy...i never dress up..lol..eveeerrrr. unless its a wedding, or a funeral, or when i wake up feeling all femme and crap like that.
buuut...okay, some might disagree, hehe, cause of the abundance of jeans and tees i wear, but i know a thing or two about fashion...as long as am not dressing me that is...i can be an amazing stylist :P boo...what? stop looking at me like that!
moving on...i always thought i was born in the wrong era, the wrong town...i should have been born between the 40's and the 80's...i believe those were the best years fashion will ever have...from the underskirts, to the pearls...from the cigarettes, to the cars...from the music to the pornography  industries...those were the best years....from Grace kelly, to Audrey Hepburn...baby, those were the years....moving on...so anyway, because we had to dress up, and i had previously purchased a vintage green dress from this cute little store in the city..no really, if you are in nairobi, ask around for Closet 49, they have insane stuff, and their sales are to die for...very good place for lovers of vintage. i got the cutest little brown romper, and satchels...i am thinking of moving into that place.again, i digress...back to saturday mornings outfit...
an emerald green short dress, it had shoulder pads, that made my shoulders so straight!loved it! it had a gold leaf brooch...aaaahhhh....and a high waistline...with square pockets on my thighs...it was a bit big for me, but i didnt mind....
i wore it with white peep toe heels, a simple pearl necklace, and turned another looong pearl necklace into a layered bracelet...wore gold hoop earings and red lipstick...if i had braids i would have put it into two cornrows...but i already had cornrows, so i just put it in a bun

i cant get a picture that quite captures it...buut, it looks like this, i think...just green, with a brooch..the red dress, but shorter arms...minus belt. i dont have a camera :(
i got mixed reactions with it...everyone in school was like u wear dresses!!??? and lipstick

and i was all...psssht, ull get over it...
my other pal was like

wow.okay.
haha...buuuut i was like....my day has been shitty, so ya, im Margaret Thatcher crossed with Liza manneli...get over it.

no, really...my day became worse...and worse...and worse...
i didnt expect this post to be this long...but engh, i havent gotten to the point of this post...forgive me, if it rushed.
.....my Humanitarian Law paper was aiight..was done in one and a half hours..shocking..
then there's this little event at this sea side club, Il Covo, every month, we get a house trance gig...am making up for lack of BoTB, sue me... and i try to go every month, but this month has been werk, financially...problem was, some pals of mine were in town, n i couldnt go this Q-party, so i thought i'd go for SNL, and wonders of wonders...le mummy sent me some cash, yay!yay!for skin toners,and moisturizers..lol...but theeeen, my evil sweet sister, decided, oh then, i wont give u allowance cause mummy sent you cash...you horrid bitch!!!( i say this with a lot of love) if i had known, i wouldnt have bought the bloody moisturizer, my skin can go another month feeling like sand paper. and i had gotten like two six packs of beer, right, and like sijui how many packs of malboros...dont forget the spliff, and the pills.
it was a good week..i got high and drunk every night though..lol..seriously. i still had extra cash, buut, eh, i couldnt be poor again, and regret not being able to buy a mzuri pack f cigs cause i chain smoked on the beach. so i decided not to go out...
...one of my closest girl pals...holla Mookie, decided we HAVE to go out, n she was sorting it out...but we are both hustlers...lmao, yeah, am a hustler..ehehe...and the hustle wasnt going as planned, i was ready to call it a night by the way, or afternoon, but we checked in on another pal...this girl, is sooooo pretty...lol...and the teeth???she has amazing teeth!!!! really now, who has amazing teeth?? she stops traffic yo...i have to warn all my pals, girls and boys to stay away from her after they meet her...nhu...she wouldnt let me not go, so i was on welfare...not something my blood sits well with by the way...but i had gotten off so many parties, and come onnn, it was end of semester...so i gave in, just one beer, am not a heavy drinker.
...but then, my mum had decided to come back...to town...and i hadnt locked my room, and it was an utter mess...she doesnt mind my drinking...she supports it actually, but the one time she thought i was smoking...lool, it wasnt pretty...so i was jittery...and apparently you can't go out looking like Thatcher.lool. so i had to wear a dress that made me looking like a pumpkin in glasses..it was super short.
...nnnhuu...we hang out wit my boys....yeeeeah....i hustle and have boys.. :p
which involved alot of smoking...oh lord i was tripping by 8pm. and some booze...urgh, i am not a brandy person...Jack Daniels, red label...urgh..so i just stuck to my spliff...lots of it...i couldnt see straight by the time we were going out..
...the moment we got in...some acq. of mine and i started dancing while people looked for a place to chill out..i cant remember what i danced to :P
but i danced...alot..i only go out to dance btw...i dont do social clubbing...at all...if i wanted a pint, lets buy some, and go chill out at the beach or something.
plus, i had to bur off some calories...i had eaten possibly, my body weight in food.
..sooooooooooooooooo...the reason for this post...
this guy :P

there was this guy...omg...i am not into really big guys...and no...not fat...just tall...like 6'7 or something kinda tall...im a pretty tall girl, and my head was beneath his pecs...yeah, i felt them ;)
he has abs...and pecks...bigger than idk...joe manganiello...i kid not!! and the height!!!oh my fucking god...and he is soooo fucking gorgeous...urgh, it should be illegal to be that gorgeous...

like i said...taller...and wider than joe...okay, i cant upload a pic for some reason..
...so anyway...this guy right, was leaning on a post, watching people dance and some asses being thrown in his face..there was ass throwing...lol
my encounter with him....right..i was leaving the dance floor, after dancing with this bird that became my somewhat dance buddy through out after some mutual groping..hehe
anyway..so leaving the dance floor...there i am in my little world...then bam! i walk into a wall...thats how solidly built this god was! like thor or something...hercules!!yes..
so...instead of stepping away right, he circles his arms around my waist...and am dying and trembling vause my ovaries decided yes!!!!!! we want his babies! and i stand there, blinking up at him...not being able to stop the bloody quivering...and he holds me tighter right...whuuuuut!!! and grins, like...you okay??oh Lord...i would have died if not for my bladder..who has a voice like that???eish..
and i nod, n he lets go <oh why, why, why> lol....
he didnt go back to the dance floor for awhile, but i had forgotten he xists, cause that bird i mentioned earlier was gyrating pornographically against me...and i feel eyes on me...lol...but..i dont throw asses at people...no matter how godlike he was...nor how many times my ovaries broke into a musical number everytime our eyes met...and sadly, the only beach moments i had were when i went out to light a spliff....
but i know someone who had their beach moment ;)
nhu........thats why i had to write...i had to tell you...i have possible wank material for atleast another decade...ta!

sluggies bunnies and BAMFs

my internet personality is so shiny and amazing...but in real life i have the appeal of a flober worm...my social life is purely in my head...you would think am joking, but no...not really...and don't worry, this is not a pity party post...its not that time of the month yet. booyah
after establishing that...i should also warn you that this post is as a result of two hours of International Humanitarian Law. basically, might be a shite post. 
on and on...
everyone goes through that phase in life, where you feel like a superhero, like, you are so fucking awesome, what? there is always something to do when you turn...phone is ringing off the hook, potential coital partners all corners of the world...like really...you could snog anyone during this time and you KNOW they'd let you because for some reason...you are a cross between sexy beast and bad ass motherfucker...

and that's perfectly fineee. 
then enters those days when you feel like the slugs pouring out of Ron's Weasley mouth in Chamber of Secrets...or worse...gods you feel so blue, so gross, so aesthetically unappealing you dont even wanna see your reflection in the bloody mirror...because suddenly, no amount of concealer hides the fact that you have six...SIX different pigments on your face...who has that???? well today its you.. and all you wanna do is laze around on the couch in your jammies, a stupid kid's show...or perhaps its time to learn how to fucking knit...or something equally as useless like learn the rules of football.
..then...for others...there are those days you feel like this

who am i?where am i? why am i here? 
those days where you are sooo fucking bored out of your mind...you eat, have a wank, have a shower, wank, eat, have a shower, wank,....oh shuush don't act like you dont do it...Jesus sees you!!!!


for some, mainly me, and my somewhat surprisingly close group of friends...the days where you get utterly bored are more frequent than should be possible...jeez...


and here is my remedy...and it works for me...


check it out on my next post... ;)
 
 

boom boom boom

there's something to be said about loneliness, it sneaks up on you..
you're in a crowd of people, laughing, drinking, getting high...its late...and you wonder how it feels to have someone at home waiting for...and the minute ur walking home, in the cold, with a cigarette between your fingers...it becomes oppressive...it chokes, and suddenly you dont wanna go home, so you turn around, and go to a pub..order a pint, perhaps two, something that will make you pass out on your cozy couch

but then you wake up, and its a cold day when you don't have someone who puts the coffee on when you are late, you have no one to pull up the blanket on your sleeping form. loneliness settles in again, when the silence you usually craves becomes a bit too loud, you hear your heartbeat, you hear every breath that falls from your lips, nose, you hear the clock tick...the sound of the refrigerator running...it will have to be enough...its too early for you to think about it...you are happy...you have no one to nag you about the way you arrange your books. you look out your window to see a day bleaker than the turmoil in your bones. you turn away from the reality of it all

make a cup of coffee...light a cigarette, and dammit if doesn't feel good not to have someone complain about cancer.. you smoke a whole packet to celebrate.
its not a weekend, you have a job, there's no need for loneliness and financial woes, that's a sure ticket to depression, and that's a place you don't miss. besides, it's always better when you have money to drink away the shadows on your wall...drink to oblivion...enable the cancer that is slowly eating your lungs out. urgh, you turn away from such maudlin thoughts, you are perfectly healthy.
you get to work, bury yourself in paperwork.  you have no idea what you are filing, you just know it needs filing, even though it's not in your job description to file. the routine, keeps your mind off your empty apartment, off the zero texts and missed calls on your phone. dammit

it's lunch time when she calls,
"lets do lunch darling, i miss you"
"sorry, already made plans"
you did, make plans....that include half a packet of cigarettes, a bottle of water and your twitter account.
some might say you do nothing to ease your loneliness, you scoff, because really, what do they know?
you don't want to surround by people you can barely tolerate, people to fill in the din in the air...no, if you want to talk, if you need company you know who to call.
pull out phone,
" i fucking miss you"
silence
"yeah?"
"yeah"
"where the fuck have you been then?"
"i needed to think....or something."
"fucking wanker"
"yeah"
"i love you, you know"
"i know"
end the call...smile...take your bag and leave...he waits for you downstairs, pretends to scowl.
you laugh, and his scowl deepens, but you see his lip twitching.
you stand a meter away, you can touch him if you want, but you don't.
"how have you been"
you frown, that's not what you want.
"fuck sake Lola, how have you been"
he is angry, he never gets angry. you look up at him, hoping to God you don't fucking cry, because really, its been a shite three weeks. but you smile.
"its been tough, i miss you."
"you fucking kicked me out"
you wince
"don't curse"
he growls...you laugh
"boo. you know i didn't mean it."
"you never mean it' that's the problem you hellish bitch."
you laugh again, u miss him, with his messed up morals, he wont stand for you smoking, but the wine is on his tab

"i can't kick you out if you don't live with me in the first place"
he smiles...
"true, so...coffee? i know you didn't have any today. you look like hell"
"thank you, so do you."

silence...its comfortable, you like it.
its messed up your relationship,
you don't understand it yourself...
you love him...might have been in love with him in the beginning. he loves you, might have been in love with you in the beginning. but this is neither the beginning nor the end...and that's okay really, because this is way better than awkward fumbling when his girlfriend is not looking. and its way better than the bitter future that may have been if you had tried to be more than friends....because really, its the forever that matters...and you both know you would rather have forever, with its explosive fights, drunken nights, coffee breaks, rough break ups, hospitals...than a year of the best sex you might ever have,...because really, isn't that the difference?  you get the cuddles, and the missed calls..you get the flowers, and the fights, and the jealous outbursts, just like a couple would...you don't have sex...you have forever...and while there is still silence waiting for you at home, shadows on your wall..and a cold bed...you have the best man in the world to curse and bring you coffee, to call when you have a nervous breakdown before a presentation..and surely that's okay

explanations, running away

This is a little bit of a sinful break am taking for doing some work for my group discussion....
i have no post in mind however....just that...i had to do a little bit of asking people to read my blog..which i immediately regretted if i go by the furtive glance my friends are throwing me. so yeah...just might change the url to this blog...like i had to change the url  to my other private blog countless of times.. someone told me, when i shared the link to the blog, that she felt honored because my blogs were like exclusive membership clubs, where no amount of begging, or tit flashing, would let you in...she then proceeded to offer some tit flashing when we next meet, to show me her gratitude...i find i don't mind sharing my thoughts if that's how I'll be thanked..needless to say...its really stupid and shallow, and what makes it even worse, like in a sad pathetic way, that its true..my thoughts are my own, and every piece i might write, fiction or not, will have something a little bit raw, a little bit different, a little piece of me... i cannot even begin to explain how painful it is to breath every time i press the publish button..my heart is usually screaming, the little voice in my head is usually so eerily silent...and i know i might have made a mistake...because this particular voice never fails to express itself...normally in a voice that suspiciously sounds like Draco Malfoy's when he said " wait until my father hears about this"
..by the by...i should explain, maybe i will in my profile (FINALLY) that i might be a little crazy....
and hope my friends...acquaintances...etc...if they ever come across this blog after i change the stupid URL, like really, wtf is soshesa anyways?, won't be too shocked...who am i kidding...the little they know shocks them to no ends...a fact i am proud of if am honest...because y'all need that one mentally unstable friend, with a penchant for drama and trouble.
also...shout out to my first follower on this blog...remember...we are all crazy...we just pick our own sicknesses. ciao

a little bit of salsa

I love to cook...my background allows me to grow up surrounded by amazing cooks...my mum has two sisters, and at every gathering...we get treated to a specialties... my older aunt and mum for their curries, my younger aunt for her baking...
i don't know what i specialize in really...i love to bake...to roast, to fry...not very partial to fried foods...
anyway...i stopped eating meat last year...but only recently labeled it as vegetarian...i hate labels...what is that word, that describes someone who doesn't eat meat, but doesn't mind having animal produce? oh don't get me wrong...it has nothing to do with animal rights and shit...i don't really care about human beings, why would i care about animals...(even as i say this, my blood curls, thinking of pain...thank you, darling ex for making me susceptible to animal suffering...when you introduced me to that furry little green eyed kitten *sniff*)

anyway, this post, is about a favorite recipe of mine i wanted to share...call it whatever you want...you can have it alone, or with something...as breakfast, or a snack...introducing my own version of the Mexican omelette...now, my mother and i disagree on the contents of this dish...but like i said...own recipe..

Lola's Vegetarian Mexican Omelette
..you can play around with this recipe..sometimes i add milk and cheese, sometimes i don't...for non vegetarian...you can add bacon, ham, turkey...anything really...

Ingredients
1- eggs...i use two egg whites, lesser calories..serves two, or one, depending on what you want really.
2-milk...optional
3-cheddar cheese..optional
4- veggies...no really...have anything you want here...my personal favorite is a whole tomato-it adds to the flavor...and it's soo succulent.., qtr a red n green bell paper, spring/white onion, parsley, and a mushroom.
5-avocado
6-salt and black pepper, oregano and basil
so this is what i do..

mix the first two ingredients...you can mix the third in if you like, but i like my veggies still succulent, and you don't get that when you cook too much.
anyway...so i whip up my egg whites, with the salt and black pepper...i like mine spicy,(for those who use milk, maybe like two-three tablespoons of milk...you don't your omelette runny)
heet your pan/skillet with oil...for those watching your weight, half a tspn is enough..only 30 cals...but if you have the olive oil spray...spritz away...even ten spritz...16cals.
make sure your other ingredients are chopped up and mixed up...personally, i mix everything up then 'marinate' them in basil, oregano and marjoram and refrigerate for ten minutes...you can add chillies, if you like extra extra hot)

when your skillet has heated up...pour in  the egg...spread it around real good...even when it starts to stick...it can cover at least a six inch diameter pan...
then...take your veggies...and spread them on one HALF of the egg...repeat...one HALF...let the egg cook..be careful it doesn't burn.. if you like your eggs easy made like me...just two seconds on the egg is okay...but if not...you are better off mixing all the ingredients before hand..
then you sprinkle out the shredded cheddar cheese, on top of the veggies...a tablespoon is enough...and its optional...still for flavour, no less than ten cals...its somewhat worth it.
after the cheddar...flip the other half of the omelette on to the veggies...like an egg taco..
the tricky bit is to get it off the frying pan onto your plate...but you get it after a few tries...and its easier with a spatula...

for the last twist...chop up your avocado slice on top of the omelette...when you do that you might wanna have it for lunch because of the avocado calories...or maybe brunch...

when i have it for lunch i usually loooove stuffing it into a pitta pocket( 65 kes at nakumatt for three pockets) with iceberg lettuce and a dash of Tabasco..

the omelette alone with my recipe, minus the avocado and milk..is like 120 cals...plus the cheddar.
plus the avocado, with yolk...looking at 400 calories.

enjoy.

beer can, stars and jeffery campbells

There is absolutely nothing in this world that could happen right now, that would kill her..absolutely nothing.. she has saved herself a particular light at the end of this tunnel she cannot miss on.

That is why its okay when she gets news from home that her grandpa just passed away. she knows she wont go for the funeral, no, no one should see her, and that's okay too.

she almost breaks when she realizes she is failing her classes.because really, there is nothing she is more passionate about than her course. but the evidence is there...its been a while since she has seen a good grade, and the realization that she only has one more year to go is a little scary. she doesn't wanna think about it, its just too disheartening...brings back the thoughts of running away...again, maybe to Bali, they have a lot of sun there..maybe she could take up teaching at a local school, she laughs at herself for these thoughts...she can't run away this time...she just cant. it won't change the fact that she failed...again. when she could have put in just a little more effort.

its Wednesday when she remembers she is poor. when she has no food or drinking water at her little apartment..but that's okay...she isn't gaining any weight...she has no problem with that...even when she proceeds to walk for a whole hour to get to school, its okay....

its also okay when she gets to school and she finds that she has missed a paper for her midterms. she cries in the bathroom because she wonders why life just wont cut her some bloody slack. she asks for a day for lounging and hot tea in her chaise...she gives herself a day off...to sleep and do assignments and clean around the house...she wonders where her friends...and lovers have been.

on Thursday she cries again as her landlord comes to evict her...really now, whats the use of trying...she begs and pleads because, she would do anything anything to keep her flat...its okay when she has no food, or transport...but she needs a place to hide out, when everything is crashing around her, and she has nowhere, and nothing else holding her together. she misses the love of her life...it was better to be broke when you have someone holding you..she cant possibly call him..her heart would give out. so she scrapes the little saving she has from her school account, pays for two months rent...she would worry about the other two months next time the landlord comes around with a padlock the size of cat's head..right now she needs a cigarette....and she remembers, while watching the smoke above her head...that his week wont end so bad.

she doesn't have a class on Friday, her sister, the mainstream one, married, with a kid...calls her for lunch...she says no, she insists, her little nephew wants to see her...anything for him. everything if she could afford it. same questions,
"are you okay"
"yeah"
"you need money"
"no"
sigh.
smile.
"lunch?"
"i ate"
its a lie, they both know it.
they both drop it,
take a walk at the pier, keeping a close eye on the kid, as he chases after the sea gulls.
"we miss you"
silence
"come home"
"the semester is almost over."
"will you come"
no.
"we'll see"
"are you coming for the funeral"
"no.exams"
sigh.
"he misses you..don't you baby?" she coos a him. he beams
"i stay with auntie?sleepover?"
"you can't honey, aunty has school. she will come next week?"
its a question...yes. anything for him.

she leaves, hands her money she doesn't try to refuse.she has grocery

she has dinner.
spend Friday night curled up watching old James Bond movies.

Finally,its here...Saturday...the day that has, for all intents and purposes, been the beacon of her week...only because she has a can of beer she has been saving for a week. she weighs herself..surprised and disgusted that she has managed to gain 7lbs when she should have been too broke to afford food.. she tries not think about it...she's better now...she has coffee and a banana...goes out for her Saturday class

it amazing what a good pair of shoes does to a person.
Lita. Jeffrey Campbell. thigh high black stockings. dress, denim, kappa. she feels like sex personified, when she doesn't think of the weight she has put on. it won't do her any good. plus, she is better now.
men cat call..she blows a kiss, lights a cigarette...knows its almost over.

she doesn't know how she will survive next week, she doesn't wanna think about it, really...maybe she will find another oasis, in this desert, lip chaffing vastness that has become he life..she does not know if she will survive, surely.....but she knows tonight,  she is saved.

when she spreads out her blanket in the middle of the night..on the patch of grass behind her building...smokes a bowl...watches the moon, the largest full moon of the century, the television guy says apparently... and takes out her can of beer, cigarettes and gazes at the stars.nothing else will matter...just her, the almost whispers of the voices in her head..her can of beer...and the twinkling stars..she doesn't question their presence, their meaning, there will be time for that. not tonight...tonight, the light at the end of her tunnel lies in a green chilled can and a pack of Marlboro and of course, that is okay.