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.