why is it that when i keep quiet, am hiding something from you or i don’t want to talk to you

why is it that she thinks am a player just ’cause am good with girls

why is it that when she gets mad, its justified, but when i get mad, am being unfriendly

why is it that she expects me to put up with her bad behavior

why is it that love is such an ugly business and yet we still live for it

why is it that i never cook nowadays and yet am such a good cook

why is it that i feel like there’s never enough cartoons on tv

why is it that someone will only walk in on me seconds after i have violated my air space

why is it that the bathroom is my sanctuary, the one place i can think good and know am alone

why is that i can win a grammy in the shower

why is it that early morning exercises mess up the number 2 sessions

why is it that sometimes, however hard you try, their will be no number 2 in the morning, but soon as you get to the office, its all over you like a lousy louse

why is it that after her operation, she is still not getting better, something always comes up

why is it that even though she’s the only one who understands fully, we rarely get time to talk

why is it that am always there for everyone else but just a little for her, yet she needs me more than them

why is it that God seems to never hear my prayers, however hard i pray

why is that am farthest from God, during the times i know only Him can sort me out

why is it that God seems to never speak to me, even just to say NO!

why is it that after a year and  5 months i still break down and cry over her like its happening all over again

why is it that her birthday is coming up soon and am still broken up ’cause this will be the second year i will not share it with her

why is it that someone asked after her on tuesday and i wanted to do him in

why is it that my mouth goes dry and i become dumb everytime someone asks after her

why is it that i can’t bring myself to tell them the truth about her if they already do not know

why is it i always walk in half expecting to find her lounging in her favorite seat

why is it that i still do not have the answer to them questions

why is it that i still regret the things i never did with/for her

why is it that missing her is such a physical strain on my heart

why is it that i hate capital letters and punctuation

why is it that i still feel invincible regardless

why is it that i had to come up with this

why is it that am prolly goin to bring this post down soon as i come back to me senses

why is it that i have to go now and i think this don’t make sense

anyway like i said, i think have some sort of ataraxia going on. now this as DK can testify, can be a good thing, but at the same time, it can be really dangerous. for those of you who don’t know, ataraxia is this state of absolute tranquility, where you just do not care about anything(well mostly the bad stuff happening). will i suffer for it?? only time will tell, but i can assure you, some things in my life have gone unnoticed this past weekend, things i would normally pay attention to.

much went down over the weekend other than the arsenal loss. Dk and i, we brought sexy right back in kanzus, we were almost mistaken for the groom and his best man. whoever said you can’t look killer in kanzus, definitely wasn’t talking about us. we were so hot, someone had to be smack in the middle, you know how like poles do not attract and stuff. i also had a fight, it feels good fighting for something you believe in, getting someone to believe what you believe.

oh, i also received a beautiful love letter from a sweet girl i know. now if only i could find it in me to feel even an inkling of what she feels, hmmm.

i had two vigils to attend this weekend. the first went down, friday night. went with a couple of buds and they ended up serving us chips for food. so when we(same crew) went for the second one on saturday night at about midnight, it came to feeding time and one of the dudes i went with turns to me and asks if there was chips. when he got an answer not in the affirmative, dude just got up and walked away, excuse being, he didn’t even know on whose behalf we were mourning. i died.

i also found out a couple of dudes were player hating me over this gal am not(yet?) even pursuing. how u goin to hate on a brother you only knew for 5 minutes, huh? at first i was mad, but then i remembered the words of the legendary katt williams. something to the effect of, there will always be haters, so you better give ‘em something to hate on. i figured i must have my game tight if dude is goin to be hating before i even make my move, running scared and stuff. matter of fact, yiz dudes should be worried coz ama bring it on. give you reason to hate even more. and to think i was beginning to think these dudes be cool and all.

right now i feel like that proverbial man drowning and clutching at straws in the hope that they will save him……….you know who you are!

yep, i know this definitely don’t make no sense, but who says i wanted to anyway??

and i am feeling on lots of relient k at the moment.

am out. peace!!

so anyway this song plus musiq and shwayze just will not go away, even while the other songs keeps leaving me for greener pastures, these three have stuck by my side with incredible loyalty. so without further ado( or is it undoing, ha) i give you one of the songs that just will not go away(more to come soon): hello beautiful by the jonas brothers. this song constantly reminds of someone, maybe thats why i won’t let it go.

Hello beautiful
How’s it going?
I hear it’s wonderful in California
I’ve been missing you
It’s true…

But tonight
I’m gonna fly
Yeah tonight
I’m gonna fly

‘Cause I could come across the world,
And see everything
And never be satisfied
If I couldn’t see those eyes

Hello beautiful
It’s been a long time
Since my phone’s rung
And you been on that line
I’ve been missing you
It’s true

But tonight
I’m gonna fly
Yeah tonight
I’m gonna fly
Oh yeah

‘Cause I could come across the world,
see everything
And never be satisfied
If I couldn’t see those eyes

and in totally unrelated stuff, spot the connection in these quotes?? keeps me going. there’s yet hope for me.

Laziness is our biggest enemy- Jawaharlal Nehru
We should learn to love our enemies- Mahatma Gandhi

am outta here, you know it don’t make sense. peace!!!

ps: what are you listening to then, eh??

it began on friday, plan was to get home as soon as possible coz i had a case of the skids(i think). upon leaving the office, i get a call summoning me to emin pasha and am like what the heck, its a friday after all, and so holding in the skids i head over to catch qwela band. from there we were supposed to head to humura to catch a little bit of maurice before heading home. as we headed over to humura(at this point i was dying to be home coz of the aforementioned skids), plan changed in the twinkle of an eye, pizza at nandos it was. 30 minutes and a few phone calls later we were at effendy’s where i happened to catch a glimpse carlo and her boo(chic you be stalking me oba), and no eddsla was not there this time carlo. so pizza had been thrown out for a few drinks and soundless music videos( why do they bother if they will not give us sound, i was about to start screaming “our money!!” on the top of my voice, but i figured i couldn’t raise my voice above the din of music and besides i had no moral right seeing as i hadn’t contributed to the drinks).

the plan ended at zone 7 after another one of those inspiring moments. the inspiring moments in question being those where you get up to head out and catch a taxi home only to find yourself in a place that judging from the noise and the drunken fights goin on is definitely not home. and it was drizzling. this coupled with the fact that somehow everything happening was not planned was more bliss than i could handle, or so i thought, until i came across long lost friends with a huge bottle of wine doin the rounds between one of their gals and….well, me, when i joined them. my goodness i haven’t seen a wine bottle that big, took us the better part of an hour to squint and see that it was done, which was good news for me, coz frankly i was tired of the bloody thing not running out.  and then some dude found it in him to hit on me. telling me he liked my style and he thought it was possible he loved me. at this point i was calculating the weight of the table between us coz i wanted tto just fling it aside and get him in his gonads, by golly, i had to be dragged away from the fool. i swear he was goin to be picking the contents of his bollocks from the floor had i not been pulled away.  suffice to say, for someone who had planned to be home by 10pm , i finally figured my way home at about 1.30pm, all the while looking over my shoulder to make sure the dude had not followed me.

come saturday, and i had the arsenal match to do after work. the arsenal players somehow managed to conspire amongst themselves and ejaculate a win over our fierce rivals, which just made my saturday even more hyper than a goat on heat. have you seen one of them billy goats on heat, they even begin chasing chicken, anything to get relief. yeah i was that excited and then some more after the arsenal match.

i even decided to head to the circus(well that was in the plan) and it was boring and i refused to pay for such dross.  they didn’t even have any animals. it was so boring even the kids were chilling outside like they couldn’t wait to get home, and they didn’t have cotton candy. and they had the nerve to call this a circus. me and my companion, we just headed to this party i had been planning to crash the whole while. she was invited , i wasn’t, not that it deterred me. my mind was made up, invite or non, i was goin to be there. and after getting lost, lost and again and lost again, we finally made it to the venue just in time, for the food and drinks(why do u think i was undeterred in the first place, even when my companion kept insisting we head back to town when we were getting lost). the party was a blast and i was the crew from friday. there was this group of girls who kept on imitating the way certain guys dance, am glad they didn’t do me.

anyway at about 11.30 we head out, and the plan at this point was to go home, we were wasted, but somehow we ended up at a place that was definitely not home for me, though i couldn’t say that for some pips, seeing as they were comfortably snoring away. anyway when we got there all i wanted to do was go home but i couldn’t coz i had no ride and it was pretty late.  now this is to all guys out there, a car is a necessity to your game not just a bonus. i mean the guy in whose car we were gallivanting, was calling all the shots. however much girls say cars and wealth don’t matter, i found out on friday and saturday night that they do. throughout the whole weekend when dude would get up and say, “we go!” man i had no choice, it was free transport after all. oh and the girls were all over him just coz they knew he had them their. to be fair to the dude though, he is a nice guy when you get to know him.

anyway all in all saturday night was a blast. when we got to this place, i decided to ditch my crew and get my game on(since i couldn’t get it on on them), it paid off handsomely. i even saw ivan guzzling beer like a fish, dude was it free? eventually crept into the house in the wee hours of the morning and i still couldn’t go to sleep coz i missed her. i knew i would miss her, i just didn’t think it would hurt this much.

to top it all off…..wait this happened this morning so maybe it doesn’t top off my weekend but rather starts my week, right?? whatever. to top it all off, my first meeting of the week was with this crazy arabic guy with a beard that would put osama to shame. dude has the weakest jokes ever, but tis the way he says them in between moments of smoking his cigarrete and staring at it like its the joke itself that just kills me. dude be as if he wants to insert a smiley in the space between us as he tells his jokes. by the time i left his office i stunk of imported rich arabian cigarrette smoke for a full 30 minutes.

am outta here. you know it don’t make sense!! peace!!

Then you’ve got major denial issues.

Have a blessed weekend peoples!

a really very good friendship has just ended. well on my part really(i don’t think the other part knows), i feel tired and worn out just trying to make it work. so i’ve just done what i usually do on the rare occasion something like this happens(that i will not tell, but you can know there’s a sense of finality in it all).

it don’t mean we won’t be talking and hanging out occasionally, it just means i won’t be goin out of my way to do things for/with her. i really liked her, she was a rarity. she was cool and brilliant(still is) with a sense of fashion that is unmatched and a cartoon-like sense of humor(for me that was a winner), and did i mention she is impossibly beautiful.

now, am not saying she be not cool anymore, its just that nowadays she be cool in spurts, the rest of the time we sign off on a sour note, we argue alot and she gets mad at me most of the time. i would prolly be mad at her as much but in most cases i just don’t have the time and energy to get mad. when am nice to her she complains, when am bad, she still complains and it bores the hair off of me. believe it or not, there was a time when our coolness wasn’t complete without the other, a time when the idea of cool for both of us was the other person. we wanted to do things together, we got along pretty much most of the time. we explored things and places together for the first time. we introduced each other to new experiences. yeah we were that tight and inseparable.

now before you go off telling me how if she really is my friend i should fight to keep her and all that bollocks, well here is the thing, i have done that countless times, i have dragged us from this moment more times than i can remember, even when it was her fault, coz i felt in friendship it shouldn’t matter who is wrong, only sorting out whatever issues hence making the friendship stronger.

i have taken alot of bollocks from her,(maybe that was my first mistake, note to self: don’t take bollocks from girls anymore), i have let the blame fall on me countless times, if only to sort out the issues between us and get back to being friends and loving each other. she’s the only girl i let crawl under my skin and stay there. she was the only girl i let get away with the tantrums and petulance and all that kind of thing coz she was special to me. now am just tired of all that and i think am at a point where i can’t really be bothered to fight for us. what worries me is that am not even moved, broken, sad or anything like that. its like i’ve let her go and i don’t really care.

so aint it just wrong that i don’t feel anything about losing this friendship???? a friend has just told me that for her my being emotionless is what she likes about me and what helps her explain me.

but still, aint it just wrong that am treating this whole thing just like one of them daily mundane activities?? shouldn’t i be bothered by my perceived lack of emotion, even towards the things/people that really matter in my life??

am outta here, you know it don’t make sense!! peace!!

Much more than the new place I shifted to a couple of months back.

It has a certain rawness and emptiness about that kind of resonates. I like the quiet, the time I get to think, and pray, and read. Waking up very early to the sound of life just a few meters outside the window.

And the little things:

The wildness of having to use a latrine and having to fetch water from the neighbor’s tap until I get the plumbing fixed. The short walk down the road to get rice samosas. The broken TV whose volume control only goes up, so I have to make sure I don’t hit it by mistake. The front door which has to be locked with a chain and rattles like no man bidness. The rat that keeps nibbling at my bathing soap. The matress that doesn’t mess up my back. The fact that til now, I don’t have a cup, fork, knife, spoon or any of those frivolties.

I think what I like most is the fact that I’m alone. And it reminds me so much of the simple “away from civilisation” life I want to live for a while.

So much that I’ve stopped carrying the laptop home to work.

And yes, there is still drama, and tonnes of *ish but it’s beginning to fade away.

And the truth is, I don’t want to leave.

well here is something to bring back that nostalgia, come along and enjoy this love letter.

hello you,

was just thinking about you and how much I love to listen to your voice, so I decided to pen you a love letter.

I was thinking how everyday with you is an experience. Every time I see you I compel myself not to hold my breath, because you are like the sun, flaring azure, blue-clad in an aura of sapphire.

girl to me you’re a diamond, I love the way you shine, your sweet gentle face aglow with delight. When you move it’s like the breeze on a sunny day and when you smile, grey skies turn blue.

your smile is like the emerging stars, smiling out of their celestial deep to keep me company, you got me feeling like a champion coz your smile still takes my breath away. Your voice is therapeutic when am thinking of breaking, I’ve got heaven right here on earth.

I remember when we first met, your raven hair spread about your head like the wings of an angel, your brown enigmatic eyes, a true reflection of the face of God, your ravishingly rubicund lips formed a celestial smile melting me to your divine senses.

your voice was a melody full of wind and waves and of triumph over pain. You smelled of a rich sweet yet delicate fragrant that was a cross between jasmine and sandalwood.

all I wanted to do was share your splendidly gorgeous sight, become the stupendously grandiloquent jewel of your eyes. you glided before me like a voluptuously euphoric wind, on your enchantingly royal feet.

when you spoke i forgot my own voice in your melodiously glorious throat, stupendously tantalized by the aura radiating from your skin.

your slim immaculate arms formed astonishingly dexterous fingers, with compassionately animated lines on the palms, sweetness profusely radiating from them.

when you move your shapely legs, it is grace personified, like a princess galloping through a valley of enchanting adventure, it is immortal exhilaration.

girl am impossibly sweet on you.

the emrys.

ps: you said you’d never received a love letter, here is one especially for you.

am outta here, you know it don’t make sense. peace!!!

]]> http://www.2weakdudes.com/love-letter/feed/ http://www.2weakdudes.com/the-sum-of-all-fears/ http://www.2weakdudes.com/the-sum-of-all-fears/#comments Sun, 02 Nov 2008 10:02:59 +0000 The Dark Knight http://www.2weakdudes.com/?p=209 I can’t bring myself to write this over at Rogue King, it always starts out there, then somehow finds its way here. But there’s another companion post over there anyways.

To the Emrys, dude, I know Two W.E.A.K Dudes is supposed to be a silly happy place but, just bear with me for a while. I need to get this stuff out of my system.

—

I’m sitting here watching TV. I haven’t watched TV in forever. It feels so surreal.

I’m listening to the sad country songs and I realise why I like them so much. They talk of simpler times, they talk of hurt, they talk of love, they talk of starry skies and stolen kisses. And they talk of Whiskey Lullaby’s.

I realise now how much sense they make.

I want to get out of this place. Everywhere I turn, I see painful memories, I hear echoes of voices that belong in my past. I hear the shrill laughter of little children running through the rooms. I see the makeshift shelf I used to called my workshop, from which I vowed to dominate the technology industry.

And I used to think this kind of stuff was exaggerated Hollywood *ish.

Everything is piled up untidily, remnants from the restaurant scattered all over the place.

And there is so much dust. Inches thick layers of the things.

I got someone to clean the place, but you still find the dust. It permeates your very being. It’s like a painful testament to the truth.

Then there’s this huge rat that keeps running across the room. Huge is an understatement. I can’t bring myself to try and kill the bloody thing. All I think about is, what the heck does it eat?? There’s nothing in this place. The whole place is just so… dead.

Even the blaring TV sounds like it’s on it’s final lap.

I want to get out this place so bad. I want to run out and breathe.

Just breathe.

The first night I couldn’t sleep. I had to leave the lights on, and leave the TV blaring.

When I finally slept, I woke up a few hours later in a cold sweat, disoriented and confused.

My nightmares are endless.

I just keep staring at the walls. I just feel numb.

I want to get out of here, so bad.

But I cannot.

I sent this message to a friend last night:

“It’s amazing how much all the resilience I built up through the years means nothing right now. I’m like a little child again, so alone, and so scared. Within these walls lies the sum of all my fears.”

And that is why I cannot leave this place.

I’ve never been afraid of anything, not even death, always had this “devil may care” attitude. I knew that if my time came, it would come, and it led me to be reckless. I take the craziest risks knowing I have Abba on my side.

And somehow death has become a part of me. Whenever someone close to me passed away, I’d feel the pain, I’d hurt so bad, but somehow, I just couldn’t let it out. I’d stare balefully, comfort the people around me, even if it was me that needed the comforting. It had nothing to do with pride.

I most times think it was the absolutely mechanical way my father handled my mother’s death. Picking me up from school, not breathing a word, all sixteen kilometers from school, until we were outside the door to her place, then turning round to me and saying, “you have to be a man now, your mother is dead”, then opening the door into a houseful of mourners and her casket in the middle of the room.

Or how he kept iterating Bible verses to me, “it is assigned once for every man to die…”

I find myself quoting that verse at the most awkward of moments.

I want to leave this place so bad.

I have a past I’m not proud of, and yet, I am proud of it, because it defines me, it is who I am. Without that past, without the good and the bad, I am just an existential shell, trudging along like some freakish automaton. But with that past, by embracing it, and learning from it, and moving on, I become the person I am.

I become me. I become alive.

But in order for me to move forward, in order for me to overcome my fears, in order for me to become even more alive, I need to lose something.

And that is why I shut the door and lock myself inside.

Something in me has to die.

—

2nd November 2001. I packed my suitcase, and the few things I’d shopped for the previous day. Rolled up my matress, threw it in the special hire vehicle and bid my farewells to my family.

About an hour later, I was standing in Kyambogo University, not too excited about the prospect. University was supposed to be the time of your life, but I wasn’t looking forward to it. I hadn’t done very well in my A’ levels, meaning I hadn’t gotten the course I wanted.

Everyone was dissappointed, uncles, aunties, cousins, you know the African drill. I’d been a top student from nursery, went to one of the best secondary schools, and even went back there for my A levels on merit. But A level was a nightmare.

My dad was especially dissappointed. Despite our *ish, the one thing he always bragged about to his friends was my so called intelligence. And that’s where his pride in me stopped, I think.

Or maybe it was my puberty fueled hormones doing the thinking.

So naturally, dear dad wanted me to repeat A level, saying I could do better. I refused, I told him it would be a waste of money. It would not make any difference.

Super pissed.

How could I tell him he was the reason I flunked. Because our relationship had become so bad that I dreaded home, that all I could at school was worry. Reading was impossible because my future freaked me out.

So I flunked.

Anyways, I got a government course at Kyambogo University, I didn’t like it, I switched courses, hated the new course even more. I couldn’t wait for the semester to end. When it did, I never went back.

My dad was pissed. Unbelievably, irrevocably pissed. The last conversation we had, he told me I wasn’t his son. That his son wouldn’t drop out of school.

We barely spoke after that.

He passed away the next year.

After that, my step ma and I, despite our almost ten year old *ish, bonded for the sake of my siblings, like somehow, we knew they would need me soon.

She passed away this year.

The past few months have been unbelievably painful. Spiritually, emotionally, and psychologically.

I became an adult when I stepped out of my parent’s home that Saturday, I was 18. Guess that legally made me an adult anyhow.

I became an adult because I never went back home.

I had to fend for myself.

I crashed on my cousins’ couch for a few months, then found a place to stay in Bwaise.

The rest as they say, is not history, it’s even more drama.

I became a parent when my step ma passed away.

Today I’m going back home.

I need to stay there for a few weeks, somehow get a few million shillings, renovate the place and let it out.

My dad bought the house when it was a shell, broken walls, muddy, dusty floor, unfinished roof, open rooms… We called it Boy’s Town because it was only my cousin and I who stayed in there. The rest f the family was renting a small crib next door.

My dad built it slowly, heck, my cousin and I did some serious manual labour for close to three weeks at one time. When he died, my step ma took over, and brought it to a very decent state, but still unfinished. It’s my turn now, I need to finish the house so we can rent it out, so my siblings can get some sustenance, fees, clothes on their back, etc. The restaurant died, so this is like their last hope.

Today I’m going back home, to finish what was started.

Can I face my fears. Can I face my demons?