A healing

Darling Lola,

i write this on a morning when my heart is heavy, for reasons i dare not think about. because they will crush me, so i am writing to you, to see if you are okay, where ever you will be, but i do hope it will be a Saturday morning like this, with a beautiful soul next to you, so tell me self,
how are you?have you survived? do you still want to live?
have you grown up?
how is your heart? is it still bruised? did you heal? did you figure out why you see dead people? why you dance with them?
i wish i could see you now, so you can tell me exactly how it is there. you know how much i hate surprises.
did we get that lovely bath tub we wanted? Victorian  claw foot tub, with a gold coated taps, you know which one, did we?

how many times have we tried to drown ourselves in it?
how many times have we soaked it with blood....red wine?
how many times have we cried in it?
pain? pleasure...ecstasy. oh my Lord the ecstasy in pain.

if you read this, it means you have not yet managed to fall off that cliff i keep toeing. do you hate me for it? do you hate me for what i have done to us? do you wish you could slap me, or spit in my face, for being so weak and so fragile...because if you have made it this far, it means you are a strong little cookie darling,
you haven't crumbled yet....i pity, and envy you at the same time.
did it finally get better? the voices in your head? do they like you now Lola?
do you think you are beautiful now? did you find the skeletons i am looking for? tell me they are beautiful...

i wonder....did you run away? like i say i will? or did i grow to be even more spineless and pitiful? did we convince ourself to stay? and take it? take it everyday? that we were growing stronger?

have you realised yet it does not get better?

have you found out what makes you so sad all the fucking time?

i am getting angry at you, for not taking that leap when you could.

so you survived
but i realised i shouldn't.

tell me, did we get married? are we so hopelessly in love? so magnificently, irrevocably in love? the kind of love we read about in a Judith Mcnaught book when we were sixteen and still believed?  i want to meet this person, who has made you forget that humans cannot be trusted, this person who has managed to do this to you...this person you haven't driven away on the brink of insanity, this person who has not been chocked, poisoned by what the meaning and depth of your emotions is. how long have you been married for? is she beautiful? i bet she is...is he dashing? i bet he wears chinos more than he wears jeans. i bet he makes a good ramen like that boy from that time you were happy.

does your breathing still stop everytime she smiles at you? did you convince her on that trip to actually marry you? how did that go? did she say more than just "okay" like you did in that bed with girl with the most beautiful laugh and the most enchanting eyes.
do you have that cosy little loft on top of the hill with a view?
do you have a balcony? oh how magnificent our nights must be, a tub, a balcony, a lover, and a glass of wine.

its only five years down the road, do you work so hard? do you love what you are doing? you better, i will hate it if we survived five years and you still work with Steve. i hope you quit at the end of this year. did you come into some money? do you still take reading classes with the children in the area? do you still write? have you published that book about that girl and that boy and the other boy on a tree?

i wonder what you look like, what you like to do now,
i hope you got better, and that you are not so sad almost all the time,
i pray there are no cliffs to dance on, and no corpses to smile at.
mostly, i pray you are healed.

love,
Broken Lola

guitar riffs and blue panties

i woke up in a not-so-good-mood. check previous post.

Girl, got me some albums because i no listen to music since my comp crashed and i don't have time between work and class to download shit to my phone....also, not that many great a choice on mo-phone sites for good music.

she doesn't listen to metal.guuuh. IKR!! but i got her to like Chop Suey and Toxicity a bit. she will NOT listen to Black Dahlia Murder...or she thinks she wont...muhahahaha.
so now playing...Trivium- Master of Puppets. do you know what this song reminds me...BoTB. MY LAWWD what happened to this amazing event that had me travel 8hours in the cheapest bus to nairobi for a night of debauchery?? like seriously????!

for those of who..(so uncool btw, like fuck you) do not know how awesome Battle of The Bands was....this was why.

MUSIC.
i can't say i have good taste in music, in fact, i have the worst taste in music, why lie...after this playlist, ill probably play a K-pop playlist....or taraab cause am coastal and shit.
but now, lets talk about heavy (or what i think is heavy, we have an understanding with bechah that shit i listen to is not heavy. but meh.)
i stay in Mombasa...the rock gigs we have...or when it fikaz like 3a.m and a club is playing 'rock' its always Bon Jovi and that ka one last breath song and whats his face Nickelback.
BoTB was the one chance...ONE CHANCE motherfuckers, i had to listen to heavy stuff...really really really loud! you would be at the entrance at Choices right, and you hear some MCR...but funny shit is btw, i always heard Breaking Benjamin at the entrance, like i would get to Choices and a Breaking benjamin song...something like...u take the breath right out of me....would play, NOSTALGIA like whatnuw??! anyway, so you would listen to that...and then that corner to the basement, and you start having mini orgasms   at the different tones...and this is where i have to try soo hard not to frig myself to death before getting to the mosh pit.

but then i get the urge too when i'm on the street and Gojira comes on to my playlist and i want to mosh and wank at the same time...how weird....ly hot!
...then our bands!! OMG!!! i met one of my closest friends...holla ducky...when he was on stage performing Chop Suey...and it was fucking epic...we had just got in right, and this guy who had just friend requested me THAT morning, and had a massive bitching bash at rocktoberfest' because well, pussies, with goes on stage and i creamed...no, i did not forget the 'S' in that word. and Crystal Axis??! and Last Years Tragedy?? and OMG everything yeah??
basically, i used to go to it to get off on the music *schlick schlick* (thats fap fap for me cause i have a vag)

PEOPLE
if you bond at BotB with someone...that bond is unbreakable...lool...what beautiful amazing people, i refuse, vehemently to use brutal...but yeah..YOU GUYS FUCKING RULE. i had no friends in mombasa because, what's the point if i see guys at the end of the month, listen to good music, make out at some random fence, and smoke some kush?

all those random conversations that went like,
"some guy has weed"
"you know him?'
"nah, i know his friend."
"cool, lets join in"

awesome people share joints...mpaka with the askaris you guy.
this to you all..
the convos about irish men nipples and sex versus...well sex.

and OMG that time i was intro'd to mahia and i fan girled like
(**',) no really
"Mahia, this is Lola, she thinks you're cool"
me: (**)
Mahia: Hi! nice to meet you
me: (**)
Bechah: LOL say something!
Me: (**,) :D :D
Mahia:........
Bechah: LOOOOOOOLLL *facepalm*
Me: *waves*
Mahia...well...i um...gotta go perform...er..nice to meet you
me: *waves* (**,)

i am not joking!!

buut, there were those people who annoyed the hell out of me!! like some random ratchet bitches off of facebook who would be like...ooh you saw me and never said hi you a snob....bitch i dont know you, but clearly you do..so say hello!!!
and that random bitch who pulled an Avril and showed us her ugly knickers??

and who goes to a gig like that in sandals??


my eyes hurt, n i need cuddles, so am signing off.

but i miss BoTB, i miss leaving my Friday Class to get on a bus just for it every month.
I miss seeing Shii in his leather jacket and his english accent, Vick and his awesome tees...thanks for the discographies you guy, i miss you mucho mucho.
i miss Fagslut trying not to fall on his ass,
I miss Bechah trippy and giggly,
i miss those really hot emo sluts you can only look and not touch because....herpes.
someone do something about bringing it back?? not these random gigs that i find out how cool they were THE MORNING AFTER.

nhu...now playing...Machine Head- Wolves.

p.s, i should have been working on my dissertation. lool

ciao motherfuckers \M/

ramble ramble

its one of those mornings, maybe its my toothache, maybe its the weird dreams i have been having, but its time,

the one thing i am most scared of, is pain. i admit to be one of those people who will over think shit. i will analyse, and nit pick at a situation before i put in...anything. its boring, its cautious....its safe. you do not get hurt like that. if you look at a situation, and decide, there is three to four percent chance of me being hurt, i walk away, and that has served me best in the past.
pain.
the thought of it makes my blood run cold.
it scares me.
i am not proud of this, but again, i accept, i cannot deal with emotional turmoil, which is odd, because i live to write angst. but i cannot, for the life of me take it.
at some point in my life, i was in therapy (please do not run away, despite my madness, for i am not sane, i feel i want you to know me) and my therapist put forth that maybe i am a perfectionist, if i cannot have the best of something, i will not have it at all, which, i must say was total hogwash. proof of is my battered heart and body. but to some extent, i must agree with her, if i cannot do something to the very best of my effort, it will kill me, but to myself, my efforts are never enough, so either way, i never win. and what a life that must be, where you always lose, against your family, your friends...and yourself.

that calmness i talked about two posts pasts, has passed it seems, because all i want to do is give up. i am ever so tired. physically, mentally, spiritually...or perhaps its my tooth ache speaking.

but i am tired.

and it seems so is everyone in my life. everywhere i turn, someone is hurting somewhere. and it really sucks, and i wish i could help, heal, for that is what i am named.

i have digressed so much, i cannot even remember why i started this.

i should be in bed, with this amazing girl, but i can't.
its all about assessing the situation no?
so here i sit, and make the dumbest decision of my life,

cock over tits and reverse.

still cannot write angsty fics atm. so yeeaahhh here is a rant.

i have a problem with names. i think one of the many Holy Books says something about calling something a name and it shall be so. a pen is a pen because you name it so. if i call it a feniakal, then it fucking so yeah?

hi, my name is Lola( still trying that Moby Dick effect..no? oh come on). without the name Lola, i am a faceless stranger, i am part of the crowd, i can be who so ever i wish to be. but the minute i say i am Lola. i embody the name, that will be my identity.
Similarly, i have this problem with most feminists, and rainbow coloured people, black people, asians, etc.
with a name, an identity is formed. I get that human beings are creatures that crave identity. but have you ever stopped to think that with your identity, you create, subconsciously of course, certain restrictions to your own person?
and yes, i do understand, that if you do not identify yourself, someone else will. but do you need to identify yourself with how someone else sees you?

i am Lola. I am a woman.

and certainly i will be identified with what i call myself, enter feminists, and your never ending woes of discrimination. have you ever thought that by calling yourself a woman, you expect....anticipate even, this discrimination you think you see against your person and everyone else of your gender?
i am a feminist, but my problem lies with women who cry foul about sexual segregation, and they are the first to tell their little boys, " do not do those dishes, that is a woman's work." shame on you.

i know, and see, that us dark skinned, melanin filled people face discrimination  but have you thought that, the very idea of you being black, makes your spine curve and your head bow when you enter an establishment rumored to favour those with fancy coloured eyes? why not walk in with the pride and poise your mama must have surely instilled in you? the same way you would walk into Mama Amina's kiosk, full of confidence and laughter and gait..are you still with me?

now rainbow coloured people, yes, you.
before i knew that liking both girls and boys is weird, or you shouldn't like people of the same sex...note, feminists, and my brothers who crave to be sisters and sisters who have a curious case of penis envy, like yours truly, not gender...sex..which, was until when? last year? lol, i was sheltered. i would have no problem with walking down the street holding my best friends hands...because it was cool, it didn't mean anything, but when i realised we were called bisexuals, or gay, and many other names out there...i can't hold a girls hand in public, because, surely, they can tell i like her?, because i have been called bisexual, i will call myself bisexual, and i will expect people to treat me as a bisexual. because people call you a woman, you see yourself as a woman, and you will expect to be treated as a woman. because you are black....and so on and so forth

while identity is needed for solidarity, and a sense of community, how you identify yourself, will also affect how you think of yourself, and that is what i am advocating against. when you are sitting in a corner, moaning about being discriminated against because you like cock, or tits, or you are black, or a woman....ask yourself if by anticipating said discrimination, you did not contribute to how people perceive you.

hi, my name is Lola, i am a person, i like a person, and i will settle down with whoever i fall in love with.

hi, my name is Lola, i am a woman, i like a girl, i like boys too, i can settle down with a boy or a girl.

hi, my name is Lola, i am a woman, i want a cock.

ta-ta darlings.

Literature and calmness. bitches be tripping

there is this calmness within me that scares me. there are many sort of calmness, and tranquility, the one full of content, and joy, where you want to sit by the balcony and watch the sunset with a glass of merlot and cigarette. i crave that sort of calmness. my calm, is the dangerous kind...its the kind that warns me of stormy waters right ahead. it should come with a ahoy! ahoy! in manner of Moby Dick.

speaking of, i want the calmness that Ishmael talks about when he is at sea, the one that will make me write a book that starts with : my name is Ishmael.
and centuries later, it is the epitome of all that is modern art, a satire from a tale about the search of calmness.
in the story; i am talking about Moby Dick, if its not yet clear, and if you have not read this book, that's okay, sad, but okay. see...this calmness i mention, i cannot even be irked that you have not experienced a great piece of literature. isn't it dangerous? can you taste the knife i will probably hold to your throat when we next meet? i can. the taste of blade....is peaceful. as i was saying, in the book, Ishmael goes to sea when his emotions are twirly, not the randy kind of twirly, but yea, sorta. his going to sea is similar to most of you punching a wall, and breaking a bathroom mirror. he goes in search of calmness, but does not find it there...he meets of course, Moby Dick. now go read it. be cultured you heathen.

i said, for those who are on my facebook. that this year, i will take no bullshit. and hence the calmness.
i wish i could express the danger that is this calm. let me see,

its when i text my boss and instead of a straight forward yes or no reply, he calls and talks for two minutes about shit. its all good.

its when i walk into the office with a serrated knife and stab him repeatedly, with a serene smile on my face, while inside, i am on a beautiful ship having an iced coffee, after i steal the knife from the serial killer. so peaceful.

its when my brothers make my mom cry, and its good.

its when i slash them as they brush their teeth, with a soft laugh, while singing am so happy and lovely and gay softly.


but one thing i cannot be calm about is crap friendship. and this post is becoming longer than i intended it to be, talking about this calmness, that might make me a celebrity

a girl skins her boss with a serrated knife in Mombasa, and she says....its all good. namaste.
again, i digress
i said it, if you cannot be the best friend to me, kindly walk out, and if i cannot be the best friend you need, in kind, i shall walk out.
we have acquaintances, colleagues, friends and best friends.

when push comes to shove, my best friends will always win out...even over my family. because they become my family.

Moby Dick appears in form of a tiff that may not end well between two of the closest people to me. and the calmness in me might lead me and a serrated knife, onto the whale's back. and whilst singing a soft lullaby, put it to sleep.

ta-ta darlings

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.