Here we go again

It's about that time of the year,
When festivity checks in,
When she leaves her morals in November,
Picks them up in January,
It's that time of the year when
thoughts of the past months start trickling in,
She begins to wonder whether the choices she has made
are actually choices she is proud of,
She questions her actions
were they of pride,of shame,of apathy,
She gets lost in the fog that is her future,
So eager to experience it
yet it cripples her with fear,
That fear that makes her body weak in the knees,heart palpitate and palpitate and palpitate,
like a banshee on ketamine,
She wonders whether her future self will hate her for decisions of her wanting, her lusting,her loyalty to a fault,
She wonders whether she is lost in her darkness,
It creeps back in more often now,
it scares the living daylights out of her,
Her demons ever so loud,
She has done pretty well though,
She is proud of the self growth
proud of her strength,her resilience
her power
She is indeed a power force to reckon with,
As she ushers in the new year
uncertainty being her biggest anxiety trigger,
She will forgive herself for the stupid,the reckless,the good,the bad and the down right ugly,
She will allow herself to live,to participate,to be vulnerable,to be afraid,to make mistakes...

Sweater Weather..

and there were always those nights

where she preferred

the rain over people.

because the rain 

would remind her of how she should feel

and people would remind her

of the things she

always wanted to forget.

r.m.drake

Mom Shaming

To grow at an expedited rate for nine months,
To labor for hours on end,
To give birth to a child is nothing short of an experience,
There is a Swahili proverb that states "kuzaa ni kazi, lakini kulea mwana ni kazi zaidi
*to give birth is work, but raising a child is more work*
There is no break between child birth and motherhood,
That woman has just pushed a human being out of her body,
There is the nurse trying to teach her how to breast feed,
Kids do not come with a manual,
Latching is so frustrating,
The infant crying and crying,
All they want is the breast,
Fuck! her exhaustion,
The baby finally latches,
Her nipples have never experienced such battery,
they become tender, sensitive, skin peeling and cracking,
Did I mention that this woman's vagina has been stitched up,
She can barely pee without wanting to pass out,
Her belly full of stretch marks only reminiscent of the journey her body has gone through,
Her nights are sleepless,
She cannot close her eyes without the fear...
that relentless fear that this infant will choke, lie on them or even worse die
in the few moments she catches some shut eye,
How about like a lover possessed
her every waking moment is filled with thoughts of her child,
She can barely go to the shop without being paralyzed by fear,
THEN...
There is a bunch of us who cannot stop mum shaming,

We never for a second empathize with women who have children,

We never look away from the privilege we have

as childless people,

How dare she breast feed in public?
How dare she wean her baby off breast milk before 6 months?

How dare she go for a night out?

How dare she want to look beautiful?

How dare she want to have a life aside from being a mother?

How dare she be depressed?

How dare she be an addict?

How dare she want to have a skin crawling sex life?

How dare she be queer?

How dare she have multiple baby daddies?

How dare she be too young?

How dare she try not to conform?

How dare she not be SUPER WOMAN...

Little Gem...

I found this beautiful gem on Huffington Post. I have edited it, however for anyone stuck in the murk that is queer self discovery this is a good read.

Dear Little Rickey (or any other young gay man just finding his way),

I'm about to talk to you. Not in a bad way. Consider it more like your own mini-version of "Back To The Future." I know you don't know what that means, but just trust me, when you catch up to it you'll love that movie.

You see, I'm chatting with you right now to pass back some assurance, insights, and monkey-mind-quieting advice for you to use as you journey towards becoming the man you're going to be—a proud, scared, confused, strong, intuitive, fun-loving, gay man! Now, I know it's a bit early for us to talk about gender identity, sexuality, sexual orientation, and sex, so let's start at the beginning.

Don't Let Sex Become a Hang Up: 
So, here's your first piece of advice: sex and sexuality, which involves that little penis nub right below your belly button, is a beautiful thing. And yes, it's okay to touch yourself down there. Just make sure it doesn't become an obsession ... it could get in the way of safely driving a car.

Know That The World Is Changing (For The Better)
In a few years, the world is really going to begin to change about this thing called sexuality.

You'll Be Different And That's Okay
But, enough about the historical stuff. I want to talk about our "stuff". Here's the deal: We're going to grow up being curious about our bodies, especially our penis, like most guys do. Then, we're going to start discovering our feelings, looking at other guys (and some girls), and we're going to discover that something just isn't adding up.

As much as we'd like to be like the rest of the guys, tongue twisting with the girls, it just isn't going to be what we're fond of. Don't get me wrong, kissing is awesome; however, when it comes to throat-diving with someone, you're going to suddenly find that you'd rather be doing it with Michael, rather than Mindy. Sure, you'll give it try with Theresa, Kim, Jennifer, Barbie (no, not the doll), and even a Shari, but it just won't work.

You'll try to hide what you're feeling, but it's not going to be who you really are. You'll know that, you just won't completely understand it for awhile, so be patient. I wish I could tell you to just go for it and say, "Bite me" (one of the slang phrases that will be popular as you grow older) to everyone who doesn't "get" you. But, I'm going to suggest that you stand your ground, trust yourself to be yourself and know that one day, you'll have a life better than you ever imagined possible.

Here's a few other things I want you know. (I don't want to give away too much because I want you to have a great life experience):

1. You are who you are, plain and simple.

2. Pretending sucks. Reality rocks.

3. Making others comfortable with you is not your responsibility.

4. You're going to love and be loved. You're also going to dislike and be disliked. Choose the first combo; it's much more fun.

5. Don't worry about what you've done wrong. Just always learn from it.

6. It is not selfish to take care of you first.

7. You will have what you desire, provided you ask for it, and only ask for it if it's in your best interest.

8. Make sure that what you expect from others, you are willing for them to expect from you.

9. Try to learn that everything is happening for you, not to you (even the trip to the principal's office for an insane reason that Sarah made up).

10. Speak when it makes a difference, and stay quiet when it makes sense.

For the full article click:http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/11/18/gay-men-letter-younger-self-_n_6180804.html

23/11/90-23/11/14

In the hippie 90's a beautifully broken soul was born,
A cute,incessantly crying, chubby,queer baby,
Twenty four years later and she wants to be that baby again,
She wants to be loved and protected by the very people that brought her into this world,
She wants a pat on the back,a hug and she yearns for an I love you...heck!just a happy birthday from the human beings that claim to be your parents would suffice,
She has learnt that to bring a child into this world unplanned is the most selfish act,
She is twenty four going on fifty,
She is growing up waaaay too quickly,
Anxiety and crisis mode are beginning to feel like the norm,
In her twenty four years of life her twenty third had the most lessons,
She has learnt that strength and resilience are suits that have helped her survive,
But survival not being all too inspiring,
She wants to live for now, for today...
to breathe in the the crisp air today...
But this beautifully broken girl is stuck in the future past,
She has learnt to love self despite the chaos,
She has learnt that friendship is a word that is thrown around often meaning nothing,
She now knows that darkness all too well,
She feels it lurking in the shadows
That nagging feeling that death could be the easier way out,
That constant feeling of walking through fog,
No clear path in sight is her new normal...quarter life crisis they call it,
Unseeing the injustice, humiliation and otherness that women  and queer folk are subjected to has become increasingly difficult,
Being a feminist in a world filled with male dogma is difficult,
She battles with self doubt but interestingly knows her worth only too well,
She now knows that love is not a feeling rather a deliberate choice to commit,
Lust is something that ignites her soul,
getting lost in a world where fantasy and reality collide,
Loyalty the only code she abides by,
Rejection her biggest fear,
Stifling the man in the arena,
The voice in her head being her worst nightmare,
Her worst critic and cheerleader rolled into one,
She loathes her sexuality because of lack of expression
She loves it because love is love is love,
She is better than she ever has been...
having experienced the worst that it could ever get...
Or at the very least hopes it can never get worse than her twenty third....

The Fucked Up Beauty Standard

 Tina Fey from her Book Bossy Pants

Expression Without Words...

All Art Courteousy of Artists on Pinterest

Ugly Beautiful....

you brought the nothingness out of me

and it was rather comforting

to be left alone in the darkness,

where the deepest darkness of me bloomed

and I felt broken.

i watched my nightmares come with smiles

and they greeted me with laughter

and i learned something new about myself:

that I was not weird, crazy or strange.

I just saw the world differently

and that made me more beautiful

than you could ever imagine...

r.m. drake

LoveHate Thing

"LoveHate Thing"

[Hook:]
Hold me tight, let me go
Heal my heart, hurt my soul
Build me up, break me down
Make me smile, make me frown
Give me love, take it all away again
Give me love, take it all away again

[Bridge 2x:]
Give me love baby
Not enough, not enough, just a touch baby
What the fuck baby, it's just us baby
This ain't right, this is life
This is love hate thing

Lyrics of LoveHate thing WALE ft SAM DEW

Religious Non-Conformist

I was in heaven over the weekend. Yup! you read right... I was in heaven.

The religious intolerant construct of heaven being somewhere past the skies and hell being somewhere below us does not register in my mind. A heap of re-purposed bovine waste is what I like to call it.
This week marks a lot of things for me but the most important mark of this week is that it has been a year since I divorced the church.

A lot of things have happened this year that has pushed me further away from the church and the religious constraint that I have suffered all of my life. I use suffer because my faith has never been my own. My faith has been imposed by my mother, the religious dominance I have undergone all through my school years, the persecution that I have suffered at the hand of those wielding the name of god, the lack of queer support the very church I profess my faith to cannot condone after all "I am the agent of the devil," they say.

I was brought up in a very conflicted space where one parent was a religious nazi, the other an atheist. I however began to question the position of the church in my life once I came out. It occurred to me very quickly that the space I go to every Sunday like the good christian girl I was raised to be, the space that would have me part with money in the name of tithe and giving back to Caesar, the space that would leave me feeling more a sinner than worthy, the space that preaches god hates homos...leviticus this...genesis that, fags are depraved scum of the earth. All this got me questioning why I would give one day in the week to a body that would shun me the moment they found out I was gay.

The first few months were hard. I was riddled with guilt and feelings of being unworthy because god did not love me. How can they love someone who cannot give even a few hours a week to praise and give thanks blah!blah!!!! I even used to wait for the moment when lightning will strike me..lol!! I was also expecting that life as I know it would turn for the worst and I would suffer endless torment until the day I went back to church...lol!!

My year away from the church has taught me a couple of things about myself. One, heaven is indeed on earth. I was there yesterday. I experienced heaven all weekend in the most serene environment with the most amazing people I realized that if I keep holding on to this construct of heaven being an unattainable place in the sky then I miss the moments on earth that make life heavenly.

Two, I have been outsourcing my strengths to a being that was brought to Africa by missionaries. My life away from the church has never been better. For the most part of the year I was in a beautiful relationship...with a woman. My self confidence has doubled. My ability to hold down a job exists...lol!! My ability to be patient and resilient has come through this year. I am a better person than I was a year ago. My reasoning is that without that default being to lean on as we are brainwashed to believe, I began to lean on myself for all the things I prayed that I wished I could be. My strengths were there all along, I was just too busy praying for strength than actually being strong.

Three, life is just that life. Where or not I am a prayerful woman is irrelevant. My journey is my journey and I am the only one standing in my way. It is not bad luck or other people's fault, it's all me. My ability to succeed or fail is solely determined by me and the possibilities I create for myself. I know this sounds a bit preachy and cliche..lol!!!

Four, I am definitely not going back to that place they call holy. Because behind the word holy lies a whole lot of hate for queer folk, for people who are different. Because the word church, god, prayer, bible, pastor, priest have been used as weapons of persecution. I am done conforming to religious dogma and bigotry. I am done supporting a place that will never ever support someone like me.

Queer

10 random musings

1. When they say dreads equals patience they where extremely accurate.

2.The only reason I miss relationships is because of the little things. Been reading a lesbian blog for most of the afternoon,got me feeling mushy.

3. I am currently having a lucky streak but feeling very unlucky...fuck emotions.

4. Been in bed all day...me time...

5. Suffering from major quarter life crisis...meh!!!

6. I just want to spoon with someone and watch a movie or something cheesy like that; if not that a J and Chicken inn would suffice...lol!!

7. I am excited and terrified with the direction my life is taking. Being the woman in the arena is easier said than done.

8. I want to buy art sooooo bad; yesterday at the Kenya Art Fair made me feel like I cannot wait to have my own space with white walls and pieces of Kenyan art.

9. I want another piece of ink before the end of the year.

10. I want a sneak peak into my future; the uncertainty of my present is stifling.

H.U.M.A.N

In the Arena

“It’s not the critic who counts, not the one who points out how the strong man stumbled or how the doer of deeds might have done them better. 

The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred with the sweat and dust and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes up short again and again; 

Who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy cause and who, at best knows the triumph of high achievement and who at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”.  

-Theodore Roosevelt, 1858-1919, 26th US President and 1906 Nobel Peace Prize-winner.

of activism and thankyou....

Activism is not a word synonymous with my personality. I am a believer in that very fucked up notion of "if it aint broke...don't fix it."

This entry however, is my tribute to all the LGBTQI activists in my country.
I just wanted to say asante for fighting for my ungrateful ass,
As I am busy cowering in the shadows,
Afraid to speak up,
Afraid to be seen, to be said, to be heard,
Thank you for putting your faces on the frontline,
Open to persecution, ridicule and bigotry,
Asante for the current space and how far queer rights have come along,
Thank you for heckling and shouting at the top of your voices,
Thank you for not accepting the mediocre,
Thank you for not being a coward like me,
Thank you because I know that one day it will get better,
And the reason for that one day is solely because of you,
Your bravery,
Resilience,
And most importantly being powerful in the face of NO....
Asante!!!!

Eye see me...

EYE see...
Buck teeth,
Muffin top,
Thunder thighs,
Thunder thighs with cellulite,
Eye see...
Flabby tummy,
Ugly finger nails,
Saggy butt...
Weak,
Desperate,
Never good enough,
Lacking empathy,
A cold hearted bitch,

I see... I see.. I see....

Greatness,

Loyalty,

Lust,

Love,

Discovery,

Acceptance,

Queer,

Pride,

Sarcasm,

Wit,

Kindness,
Gratitude,

Empathy,

Flawed,

Beautifully Broken...

What my EYE see,

What I see,

Two different things,

How I see me...

                                                                                                                                       Now

I cannot trade for the world.

EYE may not love me,

                                                                                                                                     But

                      I LOVE ME!!!!

Internalized Homophobia

ho·mo·pho·bi·a

ˌhōməˈfōbēə/

noun: homophobia

 dislike of or prejudice against homosexual people.

This is not a blog about heteronormative homophobia.

I have been closeted for most of my life. I came out last year but what has been my focal point of late is why it took me so long. Minus the obvious societal, religious stigma the thing that struck me the most was that I did not come out because of my own internalized homophobia.

Internalized homophobia simply stated is self prejudice because you are gay. You dislike yourself for being gay and therefore translates to hatred for the queer family as a whole.

Being gay for me was synonymous with lots of heartache, depressed feelings and a general lack of freedom, freedom from myself. I have been reading lots of articles lately on internalized homophobia and the impact it has not only to you but to the rest of the queer community.

I remember the first time a friend of mine came out and the reaction to his coming out was nothing less than a disaster. I was part of the hazing and bullying and eventual ex communication from the "circle." At the time it did not occur to me that prejudice against myself caused me not to speak up and defend him. It only pushed me further into the closet.

Internalized homophobia caused me to never want to be seen or be heard to be around queer folk. I developed weird dodgy behavior of having two sets of friends, hetero group and homo group, and this two groups could never meet, not even if my life depended on it. I could never publicly go to queer parties because I truly hated the fact that I was gay. It bothered me more than you can imagine.

I was what people will stereotype as butch in my first year of campus but the moment people began associating me with a known dyke in campus, I quickly transformed into a 'femme' so that I could straight act, so that nobody could associate me with being queer. I had so many relationships with men, just so that people could label me straight and not for a second confused me with a dyke. I went to extreme lengths to cover up my gay vyb just because of internalized homophobia. I had several relationships, flings, hook ups with ladies but not even my closet friends could suspect. The most I was to them was bi curious or a LUG(lesbian until graduation).

I have in the past one and a half years come a long way. I assumed that once I publicly come out (which I did shit drunk...btw!!!lol) that my internalized homophobia would automatically disappear. It only became worse, because coming out meant that I had more and more queer folk around me. It has taken a lot of self acceptance to eradicate for the most part my own internalized homophobia. Chilling with my queer peeps has become extremely easy, I now introduce them to my hetero friends, I am no longer ashamed of myself and the queer community by extension.

The irony is that, being around queer folk or rather openly gay people in my country has pushed me off that self hatred tangent. Being around people who are open and proud to be gay has helped me a whole lot. I wish I could give them a shout out here but that is outting, I do not out people. Just know that you were extremely pivotal in my self discovery journey and I will always be grateful.

That being said, internalized homophobia is real and far much worse than heteronormative homophobia. Self hatred and prejudice can cripple you, it sucks the life out of you and in turn the queer community. It takes away from freedom of self and stifles self expression. I still have a shit long way to go in my self discovery journey. But I can attest to the fact that it gets easier, it indeed does get better.

Supergirl

You can tell by the way
She walks that she's my girl
You can tell by the way she talks she rules the world
You can see in her eyes that no one is her Chief
She's my girl my Super girl

And then she'd say it's OK I got lost on the way
But I'm a Super girl and Super girls don't cry
And then she'd say its all right I got home late last night
But I'm a Super girl and Super girls just fly

Lyrics of Supergirl by Raemonn

Sexual Healing...

Something veeeery strange has been happening to me over the past two months.
It is worrying because now I cannot get it out of my head.
I need to get laid people....Like on the real though, I need some good old fashioned sex.

Let me back track this a little bit. For most of this year I have been in a relationship so that goes to demonstrate that I have been getting consistent sex...right?..right!!!!
But this past months the dry spell I am in, has a fucking dry spell. It's so bad that any moving body with lady parts automatically triggers a sexual thought. By sexual thought I mean down right raunchy, rough, kinky, push panties to the side, swing from the fucking roof type of sex.

Fast forward to today and I have in the recent past been in two situations where I could have gotten the sex that I have described above but my dear people all I have been left with is cuddling. I even had to ask my friend if I give off teddy bear vybs. Like how do you just want to cuddle.... I am dry spelling people...cuddling is in fact the last thing on my mind.

A few days ago I am having a conversation with a friend of mine who was describing how painful her ankle tattoo process was. Yes!! Yes! we humans of body ink will definitely sympathize with her. But here is were things got interesting. She proceeded to tell me how she put her hands in her pants and started to touch herself. "That pain-pleasure feel," she said. The look on her face as she was describing her orgasm...damn!!!now I want to get my eighth piece of body art while touching myself.

Today, I am reading a blog where the writer describes a time she fainted by her tenth orgasm....like jesus fucking christ dude...I also want to faint after ten orgasms...lol!!! And then as I type this blog I am listening to Dan Savage and those who know him, he speaks sex only...sigh!!!

Moral of the blog...this dyke right here needs to get laid.

Happy One Hundreth!!!

When I first began this blog i never in my wildest dreams thought I would make it to one hundred entries.
Nothing philosophical just plain old self doubt and laziness...

This has been a good ride though...

I have had my rant filled days,
Happy days,
Smitten days,
Fall in love days,
Heart break days,
Politically incorrect days,
My down right meh!days,

I want to thank all the 950 persons who have peeped my blog....


"...writing, knowing in part that no matter how trivial your words may seem, someday somewhere, someone may risk his or her life to read them."

Heartbreak and Happiness....

Pain demands to be felt...
Pain demands to be felt...
Pain demands to be felt...

Pain demands to be felt

Pain demands to be felt

Pain demands to be felt

it must be madness, the way

we let things devour us. the

way we let the things we want

out, back in.

and the horror of it all is,

we stay attracted to everything

that hurts. we cling to it

and never really learn to let go.

so perhaps we do want happiness

but we also desire to keep the pain close.

close enough to define us

and close enough to make us feel

a little less cold.

r.m. drake

Dyke Culture

So I wasn't going to write about this. I wanted to yesterday but once I woke up, I was like whatevs it's never that serious....

So I am trolling through my Facebook and come across a blogger who did a "review" of a party I was at on Saturday. It was a queer party and by queer I mean 98% of the crowd was female. It was refreshing but full of culture shock. I don't know why but large groups of lesbians intimidates the life out of me. So I am there, sipping my lager and scooping the crowd...

I don't really know what I expected, or what exactly I was looking for on Saturday but I came out feeling some type of way about the Dyke Culture in my city.

Don't get it twisted, I did not expect women to come up to me and throw their panties in my face. No, I have esteem but I am not corky about my women landing capabilities. I am pretty but still I have to put work in my lady game...shit!I digress.

So I am there sipping my beer and all I could feel was extremely out of place. There is a tendency in the dyke world to be in clicks. These clicks scream "YOU CANNOT SIT WITH US..." It seems like these are deep rooted gangs friendships and getting in seems a tad dramatic for me. The blogger's point of view was just that, her talking about her excitement to meet particular "celebrity dykes", her drooling about the click-like dyke culture. I have no problem with that but there are so many of us out there, just because we do not do gangs clicks doesn't mean we are less gay.

Anyway!!aside from the fact that the party was on full turn up mode. I couldn't help but feel out of place.
My bottom line is, we are all queer, we are the fucking minority but for the minority to form sub-clicks and make people like me feel like I cannot sit with you is fucked up. I will not lose sleep over it but my expectation of fitting in the dyke culture is not existent.

P.S. This may come off jaded...that's because it is...

Modern Day Slavery...

We are still live in a world where racism is very alive,
We have just chosen to look the other way,
Where interracial couples are still looked at funny,
Where a black woman and a white man is assumed to be a slut-payer relationship,
Where the word nigga can be used by black folk but is offensive when used by white skin,
Where getting a Visa is still a matter of skin color,
Where getting service is better if you are white,
Modern Day Slavery,

We still live in a world where submissive and woman are synonymous,
Where a feminist is branded man-hating because she tries to break free from the status quo,
Where women are judged based on their ability to procreate
and stifled progression because of said children,
We still live in a world where you ask about a woman's morals
her sex game comes to mind...slut shaming,
But a man, ask about he's morals and integrity, strength, leadership comes to mind..

We still live in a world of stigma against queer folk,
Afraid to even think of the possibility that we are all human,
We all aspire to inspire
love-hate, despair-hope, struggle-build,
Want to be loved, queer or not, 

We live in a world where every morning at 6 in the am we drag our bodies to work
like zombies,
for a job we feel absolutely no passion for,
We are slaves to capitalism,
We hustle and grind to chase that paper,
It's never enough though,
Bills!Bills!Bills!!!!
We sell our souls to the devil for that paper chase,
I blame capitalism.

We live in a world where slavery has taken modern forms,
Look at human trafficking,
Look at women who will remain in relationships...battered in the name of financial security,
Look at the drugs we take to numb our souls,
Slaves to the toke, the sip, the injection, the inhale,

Worst of all though,
We live in a world where our minds are held captive,
Afraid to think,
Afraid to express,
Afraid to break those gender stereotypes that plague us,
Afraid to break religious myth,
Afraid to accept people for people,
Afraid to question that which was handed to us by ancestry,
Afraid to look outside the societal box,
Afraid to celebrate diversity,

Once we free our minds from mental slavery only then can we emancipate ourselves from modern day slavery....

The feminist in me...

The feminist in me,
Cannot wrap her head
around,
Women dancers who have to dance half naked,
yet the man in the same song same dance routine
is fully clothed,
The feminist in me cannot understand
how Ray Rice can beat the daylights out of his fiance
yet she will still stay and defend his actions and the world will look away,
The feminist in me is greatly disturbed by the high level of rape
and yet people still view it as her fault,
The feminist in me still wonders why a woman is measured by her ability to procreate,
Heck!look at Jennifer Aniston tabloids have it at her being preggers 8 times this year,
The feminist in me wonders why a woman in power must be prosecuted ten times more
than a man in the same position of power,
See Anne Waiguru, Gladys Shollei,
The feminist in me wonders why women are still their own worst enemies,
constantly undermining instead of supporting each other,
The feminist in me cringes at the continuous societal view of what the beauty standard is
forcing women to starve, binge-purge, binge, self harm, bleach skin, sow hair into their heads,
botox, nip-tuck...
The feminist in me is perplexed at the gradual neglect of the boy child,
raising bitchypendent women in the name of empowerment,
The feminist in me wonders when sex will begin being viewed as just that sex
and not a transaction,
The feminist in me wonders when heteronormative men will stop telling me that I am gay
because I haven't found the right dick,
The feminist in me is bothered at the ridicule women who have children by different men get "it's not a good example" they say but a man can father as many kids as he wants, society applauds,
The feminist in me is baffled that a woman drinking alone in a bar is a "whore" but a man..."Oh!Well he is just enjoying his drink"
The feminist in me wonders why god is gendered...why god is a "he"...last I checked in Exodus god told Moses at the burning bush "I am who I am"...eeeeeh!!!somebody explain to me how this translated into god being a "he"...
The feminist in me cannot wait for the day that we begin celebrating diversity and not shunning it...

Cynical mind...

It could be the light at the end of the tunnel,
Or it could be a fucking train coming to hit you.....

Worth in It....

Sometimes I look for the worth in it,
Sometimes giving up is the easier way out,
Less heartache,
Less drama,
Less to worry about,
Sometimes that worth in it becomes blurry,
It's easier to forget you,
Easier to stop reminiscing about the good times,
Sometimes the worth in it becomes confusing,
It's easier to have a clear head,
A clear head and a broken heart,
Sometimes the worth in it becomes anger,
It's easier to have self joy but hate takes over,
Sometimes the worth in it makes me a passive aggressive bitch,
because it's easier to act like it never happened,
Sometimes the worth in it is actually not worth it,
It's not worth the easier way out,
It's not worth the heartache...the drama,
the quickly fading good times,
Is it worth it? Really?
Is it reeeeeeeally worth it...
*ponders*

Thirst Trap!!!!

That annoying moment when you are crushing on someone you shouldn't,
Every time your around them your mind wonders,
It goes to those hot and heavy moments,
Those very explicit images going through your mind,
You always wonder what they look like undressed,
What they taste like,
Lips and pink velvet,
Every time your around them your mind takes a trip,
To that kinky space,
Oh!the things you would let them do to you,
You imagine that happy ending,
That orgasm thought makes you quiver,
It's someone you can never have though,
So I will take a firm sit and,
*sipwater*

AND THEN....

You go to that horny place,

Get hot and heavy with them,

Just to realize that thirst was in fact

A TRAP!!!!!

She saw my beautiful through the broken...

Skepticism and love for me went hand in hand,
Cynicism about love was the cherry on top,
To me it was this unicorn,
A fantasy fiction animal that is claimed to exist,
Few and far between have seen it,
But even those few in my opinion made that shit up,
That was love to me,
A made up phenomenon,
That few and far between have experienced,
Until yesterday,
Something happened,
It changed my whole perspective on what love is,
I always waited for this larger than life sign,
A big love heart appearing in the sky,
A feeling so strong it knocked me over,
Give me a sign that love does exist,
Tears cascaded down my eyes yesternight,
I clutched on to my pillow,
Sobbing and sobbing and sobbing,
Tears of heartache, pain, happiness, sadness, despair,
 My eyes were leaking,
This has never happened before,
It's not a break up,
But why is my heart so broken,
How can a heart break if it didn't feel love,
How can I feel so much pain if there was no love to begin with,
How can sadness and despair engulf me yet I claimed not to have the ability to feel love,
How can a person make you feel so intense yet you didn't love them,
Why would I feel the need to stay and fight if that's not love,
A heart so warm and tender it melted my ice cold one,
A love so unconditional she gave me,
She saw my beautiful through the broken,
She loved me until I started to love myself and eventually her,
How can knowing someone for such a short time have such a life time impact,
Give me a sign,
It was not dramatic,
It was not subtle either,
But I now know what love feels like,
Love is a beautiful thing,
It is so delicate, so vulnerable
it makes me quiver,
It creeped right into my icy heart...
I love you my baby,
Always and forever...

Chaotic

I tend to get lost in other people's worlds,
I like to get submerged in other people's chaos,
I cannot really say it is a love of helping,
It is more of a lack of control,
I struggle to find control in how much is too much,
How much chaos can I take before I begin to start drowning,
Or is it the drowning I like?
I don't know,
Only recently did I learn what it means to detach,
To be immersed in the chaos but to live your life to the fullest,
That is a weird concept,
My mind struggles to wrap around,
At what point does being selfish with yourself become an option to take,
At what point does the drowning stop becoming fun,
At what point does too much become too much,
Who do I get permission from to detach?
Who tells me to slow down?
Who takes away the chaos if I separate myself from it?
Or am I addicted to the chaos?
Do I get a rush of excitement when cookies crumble,
Then curl into foetal position and ball my eyes out because the drowning has began,
Am I escaping from my life when I immerse myself in chaos,
Or trying to get a twisted kind of validity,
Or resilience being a strong suit can't help but want to stick around,
Oh!chaos you will be the death of me,
I love you but detest you equally as much....

Quarter life Crisis...

Being in your twenties...

It is when you stop going along with the crowd
and start
realizing that there are many things about
yourself that
you didn't know and may not like. You start feeling insecure and wonder
where you will be in a year or two,
but then get scared because you barely know where you are now.

You start realizing that people are selfish and that,
maybe, those friends that you thought you were
so close
to aren't exactly the greatest people you have ever met,
and the people you have lost touch with are some
of the
most important ones. What you don't recognize is that
they are realizing that too, and aren't really cold, catty,
mean or insincere, but that they are as confused as you.

You look at your job... and it is not even close to
what
you thought you would be doing, or maybe you are
looking for a job and realizing that you are going
to have
to start at the bottom and that scares you. Your opinions
have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and
find yourself judging more than usual because
suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life
and are constantly adding things to your list of what is
acceptable and what isn't. One minute you are insecure, the next, secure.

You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You
feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly, change is
the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life,
but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away, and nothing to do
but stay where you are or move forward.

You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you
loved could do such damage to you. Or lie in bed and
wonder why you cannot meet anyone decent enough that
you want to get to know better. Or maybe you love
someone
but love someone else as well and cannot figure out why you're doing this
because you know you aren't a bad person.
You want to settle down for good because
all of a sudden that becomes top priority.
Getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic.
You begin to think that a partner for life is better than a hundred in the shack and for once
you would not mind standing tall for that special someone.

You go through the same emotions and
questions over
and over, and talk to your friends about the same topics
because you cannot seem to make a decision.
You worry
about loans, money, the future and making a life
for
yourself... and while winning the race would be great,
right now you are just a contender!

What you may not realize is that everyone
reading this
relates to it. We are in the best of times and our
worst of times, trying hard as we can to figure this
whole thing
out.

We call it the "Quarter-life Crisis."

Thought I would share this couteousy of fellow blogger @thisisess

glass closets

I find this very familiar yet very strange...

I am better than I used to be...

Tunnel vision is something I'm constantly battling when it comes to my life. I mean I'm the one living it, it only makes sense that things get cloudy. Unbearable lightness by Portia de Rossi is a book that the flip of each page was like staring myself in the mirror. It is so perplexing how much you can have in common with someone yet you have never met or spoken to them. Her book is so cathartic, I cried, I smiled, I laughed but most of all I related so much with what she was saying it scares me. The moments she was going crazy I was in it with her, the crazy whirl wind that was her past life resonated with me so much. A young teenage girl so insecure of her looks that I got trapped in a binge eating disorder , riddled with shame for loving women. It felt like reading about myself.

Her closeted moments struck me as too real. Who knew that it was a universal thing to be so afraid of jeopardizing you entire existence simply because of coming out. The fear of rejection is more real than imagined. The fear paralyzes your entire existence. Sneaking around, causing other people misery because you are miserable yourself, paying so much attention to what society dictates that you should be instead of focusing on who you really are. Trying to figure out what kind of a dyke I am. Heck! I love red lips and mascara as much as I love baggy jeans and converse.

The most important thing this book did for me was help me realize that I am actually better than I used to be.
I was stuck in a rut of not feeling whole, of feeling like I am not enough, of feeling like a hoax, that my dreams were exactly that just dreams that would never amount to anything.

Without realizing it, this year has been one of powerful transformation for me. I have embarked on a journey of bettering myself and in turn being a better person to those who love me. I have a beautiful girlfriend who I am not afraid of showing off to the world and enjoying the world together. I have never been this comfortable in my own skin, I am almost too comfortable. Yes! world I am gay and I am proud...damn proud. I could not even think it leave alone say it out loud time like this in the past years. I am not different, I am just queer. It is a part of who you are a friend once told me 3 years ago, but as I type this I now fully understand what it means. I am more confident than I used to be. I am less cynical more vulnerable.I no longer let society tell me who I should be because society is a harsh standard I will never match up. A cruel master who will never tell me I am proud of you, it will always say you are not enough.

Wayne Dyer once said that "true nobility isn't about being better than anyone else; it's about being better than you used to be." I am still a work in progress but I am damn sure that I am better than I used to be.
Thank you Portia.

I am my hair!!

Tresses, locks, curls, ringlets,
There is something about hair,
Straight and permed,
Natural and kinky,
Hair is beautiful,
I am in love with my hair,
Bad, untidy, unkempt hair is such a pet peeve,
I love clean hair,
You know the type that smells like that amazing fruity shampoo,
The kind that looks deep conditioned,
Almost as if the owner has a love affair with it,
I love my hair,
We turned a month recently,
Me and my locs I mean,
This has been a month of complete restraint,
Heck!! who knew I would have so much self control,
The urge to wash it with my fruity smelling shampoo,
Slather lots and lots of conditioner,
Pass an afro through it and frown at the pain,
Pain mixed with pleasure,
The pleasure of having clean, beautiful hair,
Kempt hair for me is synonymous with happiness,
My hair makes me happy,
I like to invest in it like fine art, or diamonds or land,
My new hair journey has injected a new feeling of life,
The darkness has been tryna slowly creep in,
But I have to see my babies grow,
Become long and luscious and kinky and clean,
It's amazing what my hair does for me,
It makes me happy, want to live,
Just to see what this loc journey has in store for me,
So Fuck! you Fantasia,
I am my hair!!!!

I can't allow myself to feel,
because if I feel,
I will feel way too much...

The Gold Star

You know what they say about lesbians and long nails,
There is something so fascinating about the gold star lesbian,
That woman who has never been nutted into,
Her only contact with the D is wrapped in silicon,
There is something about this woman,
So sure of her orientation it makes me cringe with envy,
There is something so liberating about her,
Something so empowered about her thought process,
Not dogged by heteronormative standards,
She never felt the need to confirm,
The grass was always greener on her side,
Something about the gold star that makes her so authoritative,
So authentic,
So genuine,
So untainted,
Such a breathe of fresh air she is,
The gold star is indeed proof in my eyes that being gay is far from a lifestyle choice,
We are coded this way!!!!

Light and Dark!!!!

Perfectly stitched together,
We are one,
We are mostly never good for each other,
Our bond so close,
We cannot do without each other,
A perfect cocktail of good and bad,
Dark and light,
Sane and insane,
Mostly insane,
One works best in the light,
But when dusk begins to set in,
When the lights go out and no one is looking,
The insane comes out to play,
Working so intricately behind the scenes,
Makes decisions even when I am not aware,
That's the broken side of me,
The beautifully broken part of me,
We are one,
I cannot help it,
My biggest critic and cheerleader,
Meshed in one body,
One mind,
One thought process,
I love and hate that we are one,
Take a razor and cut out one,
Like Romeo and Juliet we shall die together,
But one always wins,
The devil on my shoulder...perhaps!!!!

Red lips and mascara

The last stroke of my mascara wand,
Press my lips for my red lip to look complete,
Stare at the mirror,
A reflection of which the outside doesn't match the in,
I stare a little longer,
To catch a glimpse,
But all I see is less than perfect,
Waaaay less than perfect,
I dull my ciggy,
I take my last sip of my drink,
Looking for perfection at the bottom of my glass,
Like a child so eager to impress,
I run to my boss with my best work in check,
Perfection no where to be found,
I take a deep breathe,
Appreciate what the good lord has done,
Perfection!Perfection!!!where at thou?
Music booming,laughs and laughs and laughs,
Clink!clink!clink!!!cheers my good man,
Perfection ever so fleeting,
She curses me out at the fuck up I am,
She calls me out on the bullshit I have done,
It's perfection my love,
That's what I strive to achieve,
Beautifully broken that's what it is,
Oh!perfection,
Oooooh!!! Perfection,
your one that can never be achieved..

When it rains it pours...

There is something very soothing about the sound of the rain,

Lighting a cigarette when its raining is very calming,

And there is something equally as fucked up when you cannot help but feel like your drowning,

Like your life is a constant battle of trying to keep your head above the water.

The Alphabet

I was sitting in a room one day and the queer story came about. It began like L...G...B...T...Q...I...oh!did you know there is a P as well, I also heard that there is an A somewhere. Then someones shouts from across the room "Is it the freaking Alphabet". I just burst out laughing.

This brings me to my current story. I was with a couple of queer folk last night and something about that space really intrigued me. I was observing, like I always do..haha..stalker much. Anyway, in a single sitting i was around dykes of course, effeminate cute gay dudes, a pansexual, an intersex person, a gender non conformist and get this a gold star lesbian who is currently in a relationship with a trans man. Somebody say hallelujah!!!! In a single sitting I was in the Mecca of queer diversity.

This got me thinking about gender fluidity and how jelly queer folk are. I love it. I was so excited because it took me back to a time at a party when a gay friend of mine told me that he would not mind shagging an androgynous butch dyke. I met other gay dudes who loooooove boobies. They love a girl with a nice set of tits. How crazy is that? I love how queer folk are not afraid to be fluid. They are not trapped in the box that heteronormativity locks people down in. I mean, after yesterday when you say your straight, yaaaaaawn!!!! It is so boring to only have sex with a woman or a man. Straights never stray outside the box and that is so boring. Not to be gender fluid is sooooooo boring.

I must admit, for me there is something about trans women that is so fucking hot. If I ever crossed paths with one...damn!!I don't think I would hesitate..haha..
Gender fluidity is crazy interesting. I love it. I love the slight hint of rebellion. I love that the box society puts us in has no match for us gender fluid folk. I love it. Yesterday opened my eyes to a world I only thought was fiction. I will definitely begin to read more on the Q.T.I.A.P side of being queer. My curiosity is peaked. I love it.

Cupids stupid little bows....

Like a thief in the night,
You crept into my heart,
Something I did not see coming,
Love,
Something I had convinced myself that I am incapable of feeling,
An action I have resisted,
This ice queens heart just melted away,
Trying to refreeze but I cannot,
My heart is so warm no longer an ice box,
I am in love with you,
I am done falling,
Cupid and his stupid little bows definitely got me,
I heart you my baby,
I love you with all of me Tina...


Come Home-One Republic

Amina

Hijab, Shaylah, Tarhah,
Khimar,
Abaya,
Chador,
Jilbab,
Burqa,
Niqab,
Shalwar Kameez,
Beautiful women all covered up,
Beautiful women always in black,
Beautiful women instructed by religion not to show skin,
Beautiful women instructed by the Holy Book to cover up faces glowing,
Beautiful women with hair oh!so lovely,
Hair locked down in a bun,
Hair that never gets to experience the beauty that is wind flowing through it,
Beautiful women told by a book made by man that beauty only belongs to her husband,
The world cannot admire their gorgeous bodies,
Hidden behind baggy black clothing,
When the sun is scorching I wonder,
I wonder whether this beautiful Amina can strip off her Abaya,
Without religious scorn and dirty looks,
It's freaking hot dammit!!!!
Oh! Amina I am always torn between respect and disdain for you,
I always wonder whether religious non-conformity is a choice you have,
Do you like the black clothing?
Or behind closed doors do you try on short skirts and tight pants?
Do you let your silky locks of hair down?
Or is it condemned to a life in a tight bun?
Do you envy the non-muslim woman for her "freedom of dress"?
Oh!!! My dear Amina I am sometimes jealous of how staunch you are,
However, when I think of the restraint my heart shutters,
Oh! Amina if only this world was not governed by religious mediocrity,
If only you could be trusted to be respectable without the black,
If only life was half as fair to you beautiful woman,
If only Amina,
If only!!!!!

Not so Patriotic...

I have soooo many things I want to blog about but everything is in bits and pieces in my head. I may get carried away spewing, stop me if you can.

I have been trying to place my feelings towards what is currently happening in this dear country of mine. I know I have been less than patriotic of late, I have simply checked out of the current shit going down in my country. I am living in a country I do not care about any more. People around me get so animated talking about politics and the current country situation and I am simply not amused. Basically I am over it.
I began to question myself on my current mood and I have concluded that it is not my country that has a problem, it is the government, the opposition and all its shinnanigans.
I am particularly upset at how the media feed off drama instead of issue based politics. I am particularly upset at myself for getting sucked into all the drama and chaos that is my country's politics. I get so sucked up in the chaos that I forget to question what is actually happening. Whether all the drama is a smoke screen to blind me and the rest of my country men from the fact that our needs are not being catered for.
I am particularly pissed as fuck because in the 21st century in a country as progressive as mine I was stuck in traffic for six hours yesterday...yup!six fucking hours people.
The Chinese, I will not even get started on how I think that all this "generosity" will bite us in the ass one day. Human beings are simply are not designed to be that kind without expectation in return. Somebody needs to question why there is increase in elephant death with the increase in Chinese "help".
I am upset that my country men are suffering from some form of PTSD because of the terror violence but people are bothered with non-issues like "baba" coming back from the States, as if he came back with solutions to World Peace and eradication of hunger and poverty. Relevance is something that will quickly fade away as long as you do not cater to the citizenry. Nobody cares about word, action evokes credibility.

Anyway, it is a tad hypocritical for me to sit behind my screen and type away at how disgruntled of a citizen I am. That being said, I will continue to watch this political space, come 2017 I will be wiser. I shall not like in the past cast a vote based on tribe, I promise to devote my attention to issue based politics and not the drama that is my current political situation. I will listen out for political figures who have my best interests as their focal point. Interests such as improved health care, solutions for shit ass traffuck and most importantly persons who are keen on human rights; LGBTQI rights for that matter. Because I want to passionately kiss my girlfriend in  the beautiful Nairobi streets.

In other unrelated news, Capital FM are playing some off the hook rock music today.
Aaaaaand most importantly lotsa rainbow colored hugs and kisses to the 702 readers that have indulged me in my happy, animated,sad,cynical, spirited, angry, runty blogs.
Asante Sana.

Supply vs Demand

I am an observer,
I am that fly on the wall with a hint of extrovert,
I notice even the slightest changes,
One thing I have observed of late is LGBTQI relationships,
Supply vs Demand is what I have hypothesized,
I have observed that people in the queer community have relationships,
Relationships that last forever,
Yes, there is the having many partners until you find this elusive one,
However, what I noticed is that once queer folk settle in a relationship,
It is for years to come,
Why? I began to ask myself,
Why is it that as opposed to our fellow heterosexuals;gay relationships actually last the test of time,
Supply vs Demand comes about because me thinks there are fewer queer folk and getting a person who gets you is enough to build a relationship,
Supply vs Demand does not force you to settle,
It however in my opinion makes queers get past the small petty things being in a heteronormative setting will not provide,
There is so much choice out there for the straights,
Choice that makes them picky and petty because there is always supply,
In my relationship I have learned to stop sweating the small stuff,
Shit that would otherwise make me cast you away is now more rational for me to go through,
It is the supply shortage,
I cannot just walk into a room and find a person like her,
So when I met her and started to fall for her the little things that I would otherwise not pay attention to if I was straight would not matter,
The little detail the small things that make a human being human is what I have conditioned my mind to look out for,
I am no longer privy to a world where there is plenty of supply,
It is a good thing actually,
It is an amazing thing because little supply opens up my demand,
My demand for being the source of love,
My demand to love unconditionally,
My demand to have faith in people,
My demand to trust the person I am with fully,
My demand to appreciate human beings as human beings. 
Without demand, supply gives me an exit plan.

Heroes are made of this...

I know I wanted to blog today,
But I am not sure what about,
I know I was feeling inspired today,
But I did not know by what exactly,

I was about to go on a verbal diarrhoea rant about how displeased I am with my government. The government I so willingly but not authentically voted in. I was going to vent about why the public commute system in my country, the touts, always get into a fight with you once you give them 1000 shillings and ask for change. Since when did 1000 shillings become burden filled money. I was going to vent about the lady with thunder thighs sitting next to me but my dear people today is not that day.

I want to blog about this amazing soul I met last year 17th May to be precise.
I was a closeted dyke going about my business when I bumped into her at the Pride/IDAHOBIT event.
She was different. There was something very unconventional,very risque,very intriguing.
There was something very brave about her.
A courage I had never experienced. Experienced you ask? Yes!she exuded courage that swept the room.
There I was timid as a mouse,shaking in my converse feeling so out of place in this room filled with queer folk. I know I was meant to feel at home but my closet doors were shut and nothing could get me out. Nothing.
That is what I thought until I met this beautiful queer who made me feel like it was ok to be me. It was ok to be queer,unconventional.
It's ok,there is nothing wrong with you was the vybe I got from her.
It's ok my darling was the comfort I felt from her.
It's ok,do not sweat the small stuff was what she stood for.
Her persona,her feminism,her lack of fear to speak out or die trying...
Rise!Raise a fist! Resist!!!! Her mantra....
She is indeed a rebel with a cause....

I know I wanted to blog today,
Now I know what about,
To my heroes in the queer folk community,
To the beautiful souls that made me feel like you know what, IT'S OK!!!!

Perfection Fuckery!!!

Fuck!
Actually fuck you!
Fuck you for making me believe that perfection does exist,
Fuck you for being my Superman, Batman,
Heck!Anybody in a cape,
Fuck you for making me love you,
Fuck you because I can never stop loving you,
Fuck you for always being there,
Fuck you because I always feel inadequate around you,
Because I can never love you as much as you love me,
Fuck you because unconditional is not something I know,
But you give me unconditional,
Fuck you because you are my super woman,
My shoulder to cry and lean on,
Fuck you because I cannot snap out of the disappointment I feel for you,
Fuck you because I cannot get over you,
Fuck you because you will always be perfect in my eyes,
Fuck you for raising the bar so high,
Fuck you for being super mum...

Mulan

An eight year old girl was given a video cassette of a Walt Disney animation called Mulan. Her mum got it for her to keep her busy or rather to shut her up. This little girl began to watch the animation and very quickly got hooked. She watched it all day everyday until the video cassette became black and white and subsequently the tape got ruined. Her heart broke. It did not break because the video cassette got spoiled but because she would never get to watch the animation character Mulan who had become her hero.

Fast forward to today, a whooping fifteen years later, this little girl who is all "grown up" watches Mulan again. A flood gate of memory gushes through because Mulan is still her hero. At eight years old she could not quite understand her fascination with Mulan. Today though, through every scene and her very animated self repeating the words after the characters opened a whole new meaning to the sentiment that is this Walt Disney flick.

 At eight years old she knew she was different. She did not know that there was a word for it just yet but her object of affection was a woman. Mulan was not the conventional girl. At the beginning of the animation she is trying to look all girly and primed to get the match maker to like her and get her a man. She sings and wonders when her reflection would change to show who she really was. This eight year old girl secretly wished that one day when she is all "grown up" her reflection would change to gay. That it would be ok for her to like girls in a continent that is plagued by patriarchy and an "unAfrican" mindset.

This eight year old girl wondered whether the reflection she saw in the mirror would one day stop being ashamed and guilty of being herself. Whether her reflection would exude pride when she saw gay stare right back at her. Like Mulan, this little eight year old has grown up fighting a personal battle of self acceptance and self love. Self love in a world that loathes you for being a homo.

Like Mulan this "grown up" eight year old girl has won that war. Has slayed the dragon of shame, guilt and self hatred. Like Mulan, this little girl hopes that one day when she comes out to her family it will bring honor instead of disgrace.

Mulan will always be her hero because she fought against all odds. This little girl is me...fifteen years wiser.

Once upon a time

I used to be a blanket without seems

A silk cocoon of happy dreams

Now I'm a quilt

No square the same

A patch work

of pleasure and pain

Susan Polis Schutz

I was born this way....

"Just Be Strong" has officially become one of the phrases I hate so much,
I was raised in a household where voicing opinion was unheard of,
Where love flowed freely but there was always a feeling of clog,
Where the devils piss was used to solve problems,
Where tears were a sign of weakness,
I was raised to know that being a bitchypendent was ok,
Where you can do everything yourself,
I was raised to put on a brave face,
However terrified I was,
I was raised like a soldier,
For a war I am never going to experience,
I was raised to be on top of things,
After all everybody in the world is stupid,
I was raised to fear God,
A God I have always questioned exisiting,
How can I be afraid of that I cannot see,
After all fear is weakness I was told,
I was raised to bottle my feelings up,
Nobody has time for a whinny little ungrateful girl,
After all you have something to digest and a place to lay your head,
Be grateful I was told,
Nobody likes a little girl who cannot appreciate "God's Gifts,"
I was raised to be emotionally numb,
The people I love only know this too well,
The unavailability,
I was raised to say "I am good" "I am fine"
When my whole life is crumbling on the inside,
I was raised by parents who did not know any other way of being,
I was raised to just hang in there,
The darkness will soon pass,
I was raised to "Just Be Strong"....

What if I was blind...

I watched a blind man play the piano and it inspired me:

What if I was blind,
Would I appreciate my life more?
Would I appreciate my face and body?
Because I would not have to wake up and stare at the mirror,
Identify problem areas which I can only see,
Would I appreciate other peoples beauty?
Because much as I am a sapiosexual my prejudice mind will still judge you for how you look,
Would I appreciate taste?
Because my eyes will not see how bad it looks but my mouth will appreciate how good it tastes,
Would I appreciate scent?
Because my eyes will not have the time to look for what is smelling but love it regardless,
Would I actually listen?
Because my eyes have not judged you and changed how I already always listen,
Would my hands appreciate touch,
Because my eyes have not been biased and convinced me why I should not touch you,
Would I appreciate being touched?
Because my eyes have not looked at your hands and dismissed them for being disgusting,
Would I pay attention to my instinct?
Because when a person shows you who they really are believe them the first time,
Would I trust?
Because I can count on people to show me direction regardless of truth or falsities,
What if I was blind?

Would the I appreciate the simplicities of life....

of wearing skirts and other things

Something really strange happened this week.

I am frantically looking for something to wear and the pants I wanted to wear this particular day could not be found. Rather I was super lazy to find them at 6 o'clock in the morning. Anyhow, that being said I wear a skirt.

I think I should begin with the fact that I very very very rarely wear a dress or a skirt. I rock up to work in a skirt and that's when a series of strange events began to happen.
I walk into the office and the first colleague I meet is perplexed at the fact that I have a skirt on and I am looking all girly and dolled up. The office care taker proceeds to tell me that today I am on a mission to and I quote "confuse the men in the office."  Another colleague who barely ever talks or rather never talks to me unless it is business related had moments all day where he kept on telling me how he wants us to go on a "date" and two days later keeps telling me how he felt about the turn down on the day I wore a skirt. This among many other unexpected reactions was the rule of the day.

This brings me to my current quagmire. If you met me very many things would go through your head but gay is simply not one of them. I am not the stereotypical dyke. I do not look like a stereotypical gay girl and therefore I have developed mitigation mechanisms...which are clearly not working. Heck! I cut my fucking hair just so that I could look a bit more dyke-like but clearly this is not working out very well for me....lol!!!

I do not know to be a rough Nairobi dyke like a certain group of lesbians in the city. I cannot be caught dead in baggy t-shirts and sagging pants and with my big booty having a bounce-like walk is not at all flattering....lol!!!! I like my eye liner and mascara and painted toe nails but in strict sense I am not femme nor am I butch. I am a confusing look. Confusing to the people around me who I have not told that I am gay.
I am not closeted but at the same time I don't not a false sense of guilt to come out to people who do not matter to me.

Skirts have clearly drawn attention that I did not fore see coming. What to do with that unwanted attention is the question...because to be honest. I do not want it.

Wishes...

If I could wish upon a star,
I would be a star,
If wishes were horses,
I would be a beggar,
If wishes were light,
I would bask in it's glory,
If wishes were priced,
I would sell my soul,
If wishes were prayer,
I would lick the Most High's toes,
If wishes were song,
I would sing so hard my throat slits,
If wishes were strength,
WWE would be my arena,
If wishes were sex,
My twart would drip endless wet,
If wishes could take this pain away,
I would wish upon a star....

I like to dream

I like to dream,
The fantasy,
The nighmare,
The sweet,
The ugly,
The sad,
The blurry,
I like to dream,
Because all the grim,
Goes away,
All the tears stop to flow,
Once I awake,
The nasty stays at bay,
Only in my sleep,
I like to dream,
I escape,
To lala land,
A place only in the figment of imagination,
I like to dream,
Only this dream is real,
I want to open my eyes,
All the grim to go away,
My eyes are wide open though,
So open I can't dream,
Take me away sleep,
To lala land,
Let me not awake,
Because I like to dream!