of two wheeled monsters & broken promises..

"Even if I got you a bicycle Bryan.. Where do you suppose you would go with it?.. "Just around the block..Eric has a mountain bike and he's never broken his arm.."

I was a wide eyed boy at the age of ten..Naive to say the least.. Every Saturday morning I would stand outside my house immediately after club kiboko aired and watch my mates ride their bicycles down the street..Oh how I longed for one of those 'two wheeled monsters' as my mother referred to them ever so often.

At the age of ten I was a very deprived child.. The only luxuries I could afford were a few hours of tv before my mom came home and beat me senseless for failing to start my homework for the day before she got home... Needless to say I was scared to death of any red mark in my books that weren't ticks, a good work comment at the bottom of the page or the teacher signing his date...(sorry, I digress)

My mother instilled fear of the two wheeled monster in me like my life depended on it.. I still remember that fateful Friday... My mother happened to leave her post early for the day, and I had unanimously decided by myself that I had had enough of the deprivation of fundamental boyish rights.. I left school with the biggest smile my crooked teeth could allow.. and my good friend Kamau had promised to teach me the ways of the two wheeled monster...

Kamau was my best friend back then.. Well not only because he was the richest kid in class but also because he was the unsung maestro of all things boyish.. This boy was the class hero.. The boy who could beat down everyone in class.. Did I also mention that he had the ghastliest of scars on his knees and elbows? back then those were the real decoration medals... In short he was everything I wanted to be at the age of ten... Why was Kamau my friend again? I always did his homework, and he would beat down anyone who made even the slightest of wisecracks at my retainers.. It was the perfect relationship..

This Friday I ran home, changed into my most ratchet shorts and ran off to meet Kamau... But as fate would have it? I didn't get to rest my behind on that seat... My delicate fingers didn't even touch that handlebar even once..  and my feet, well they would never experience the instability of those pedals.. nor did I get to experience the exhilaration from cruising down that hill & using my pair of slippers as a brake shoe for the rear wheel..

Apparently my mother had walked past her son on her way home and devised the most ingenious way to discipline him... I received the beating of a lifetime on that fateful Friday afternoon... My behind looked like the triple speed bumps on Lang'ata road... and my arms.. well my arms are a story for another day..

I never talked to Kamau after that... After all my mother had managed to convince me that staying away from him was in the best interests of my rear... I still find it funny how my mother managed to break every promise she ever made to me & give me the whooping of a lifetime for it.. Two weeks later I broke an arm at my Grandmother's trying to jump off a mango tree.. (I had gotten one of my boyish wishes fulfilled)..

My mother managed to convince my dad that buying me a bicycle was not a priority & that it would only land me into more trouble than going to my grandma's ever would... I never got to own a bicycle, or even learn how to ride one.. So in-case I ever invite you to a nature walk at Karura forest, you might have  to walk the entire 16km from the Kiambu road gate to  the Limuru road entrance...

Have a good week ahead Nairobi won't you?

Dear Lecturer X.

Dear Lecturer X'

REF: STEREOTYPE

As much as your heartfelt speech  during your morning class made sense I beg to differ.. I personally have a problem with your approach to this whole mathematics issue... I for instance did not ask for a place in your class.. I believe that was the doing of a grossly underpaid  government official seated somewhere behind a desk or as the cabinet secretary for education likes to call it "Free,fair and impartial automated placement system".

I would really love it if you took a minute of your time to think your entire "motivational speech" through.. I do not meet the quora of the expected class attendance,spend hours every day looking through material that is almost impossible to get my head around to join the very system that has me here..

I hear you mentioned a starting salary of about Ksh100,000 right? I'm pretty sure that sounds like a lot of money to some of us.. but have you taken into consideration the mandatory deductions and the students loan that I have to start paying back immediately I graduate? Tithe and the monthly gratuity perk that  I have to send back home since I'm working and of course the money to show off every friday to the rest of my peers and maybe buy myself a macbook?

I think I speak for the majority when I say that I am not in class to be part of  a "Free,fair and impartial automated placement system"..In fact I am here seated in your class listening to you as a result of a decision made by someone else.. A decision that I can hardly take credit for...

So please esteemed Lecturer x, forgive my lack of enthusiasm towards joining the system & living the Kenyan Middle-class dream... I do not want to drive a vehicle I procured through a loan that I have to pay through my nose for.. I am not here to earn ksh100,000 only to spend half of it on health and insurance covers and bypass surgeries once I slip into a severe depression or any of the lifestyle diseases... Please forgive my ignorance of the current situation in the world out there and my apparent apathy towards joining the system..

If in fact I do come to any of your classes,it is because I want to be a doctor by the time I am 27 & maybe a professor by the time I am thirty... I will attend your class to prove you wrong.. and maybe, just maybe ten years down the line, I will write a critique on one of the papers you have to your name...

Yours  Sincerely,
Anonymous.

Nairobbery

(April 2004)
I watched him run... run for his life.. run before the lady from whom he'd snatched the purse he'd safely tucked beneath his left arm managed to raise alarm... He was of medium build.. square shoulders and visible traces of hair on his scalp... Age.. well maybe about thirty..

He was surprisingly light on his feet for a man his age... and he seemed to know the streets of Nairobi better than I ever would.. There she stood ,my hand firmly clenched in hers... she was surprisingly calm for a person who'd just gotten her purse snatched in the presence of her son... "toto I'm so sorry I can't buy you that toy car you wanted.. that mwizi just stole all the money I had.. Do you want chips before we go home? I might have some money left to buy you a plate.."

(August 2015)
I'm in town surprisingly early today.. well that's because I have an instameet to get to & a friend to meet before then... The weather is hella gloomy today.. but Nairobi weather is like that.. you could be soaking wet from the rain one minute & the next you're cursing adam & eve for eating the forbidden fruit...(the heat).. well I'm not complaining...

I'm trying to map out the shortest route from nation centre to the railways museum... Moi avenue take a right & cross the road at archives,kencom, the aga khan walk & voila... I can never keep time.. My friend must be going out of her mind by now.. It's almost half past eight and I still haven't called.. as if by sheer coincidence my phone vibrates in my back pocket... (I think the universe conspires against me sometimes..how does my phone ring just like that)

I almost get ran over at Kencom by an irate matatu driver.. Anyone who's been in Nairobi will tell you that these people are always in a hurry.. where to? I have no idea whatsoever.. Just a little while longer and I'll be at the Aga khan walk..

Yes I made it.. now to call my friend.."I'm right behind you" I lie.. Well not because I'm such a liar but because I can already see her... I'm already making excuses as to why it took me so long... My train of thought is suddenly interrupted by a someone tagging at the sleeve of my sweater.. "Ndugu saidia", says a young boy aged about ten.. he is holding an elder man's arm.. I presume the elder man is blind since he's holding  a cane... It is not uncommon to come across such a pair on any given day on the streets of Nairobi..

I reach into the back pocket of my pants and feel around for a coin... The old man looks familiar though.. a very uncanny resemblance to the man who stole a nine year old's dream eleven years ago.. Of course he looks very different now.. He has aged more than he should have and his right fore arm is missing.. I'm guessing he got into some accident.. His face is contorted as if he's suffered from some kind of stroke recently and he has a ghastly scar running from his left ear to his nape.. He now walks with a very noticeable limp, his step has lost its spring...

It can't be him, maybe he has a twin brother.. it is not possible to run into the same person twice and under circumstances so different... "What happened to your grandfather's arm?" I ask the boy.. "Sijui brathe..amekuwanga ivi tangu nizaliwe... " "His face.. what happened to his face?" "si una maswali mingi.. unachota ama nisonge?" he answers back.. I'm not in the habit of buying time but I need to know if he is the same man I ran into eleven years ago..

The elder man attempts to poke me in the ribs with his cane.. He is not at all blind.. It's a gimmick... i hold the stick firmly in my right arm and yank it away from him.. His apparently amputated arm miraculously appears from under his sleeve holding what seems to be a penknife.. (well what do you know.. miracles happen on Sundays)

"Toa tenje kijana".. haha this old man must be out of  his mind... I don't even tell him that I dont have it.. I just look him straight in the eye and tell him that I am not giving it to him... under normal circumstances I would've run.. but I feel that this man owes me .. he owes me a dream... I toss his cane back to him and walk away.. no one seems to have noticed anything amiss.. that's how it is in Nairobi.. everyone always minds their own business until you wear a dress that is not 'socially acceptable'..

The boy is about ten.. he must be in school somewhere with the dream of becoming a doctor or a pilot.. He must have had no choice since it was a Sunday and must've woken up earlier than I had to get to town at that time...

(September 25,2015)

Same boy.. same old man.. It is half past seven by my watch..."Ndugu Saidia".. He still has the same clothes from the last day I met him.. His old man still has his cane and his apparently amputated arm is still under the sleeve of his old worn out coat... Today I will not ask questions... I reach into the breast pocket of my shirt  & deposit whatever I find into the boy's collecting basket... After all, what kind of person steals a ten year old boy's dream? A desperate one maybe?

Post Tenebras, Lux

"After darkness, light"

I'm back again.. For a second session with the man who seems to have all the answers... Today I at-least have something to tell him.. I'm still waiting in the lobby for my turn... In all honesty I didn't think that I would be coming back here any time soon.. but as fate would have it here I am...

Have you ever read about the mouse & the wizard?... Well there was this mouse who was always scared of cats.. by a lucky twist of fate he one day met a wizard who changed him into a cat.. after he was changed into a cat he was then afraid of dogs.. so he implored the wizard to again change him into a dog.. and the good wizard man changed the poor mouse from his former state into a dog...

Soon after he became afraid of tigers.. the mouse( dog) again went to the wizard and asked him to change him into a tiger.. The wizard being a very patient man changed him into a tiger.. then again the mouse (tiger) became afraid of hunters and he of course went back to the wizard.. but the wizard had already lost his patience and he turned the poor mouse back to his original state saying..
“Nothing I do will help you,because you never understood your growth. You are better being what you always were.”...

I have been through uncountable articles and books on self realization.. Each claiming to have the secret to attaining full self potential.. I understand now that hope is the currency of life.. and if you could at-least pretend to sell an ounce of hope to a desperate person then you would have them by the throat...(sorry I digress).. Well last week I wanted answers to questions I couldn't find answers to.. Today I am here because this man seems to have something I so desperately need... &also because  of something I never knew I had... Fear of darkness...

We are all familiar with the phrase 'There's light at the end of the tunnel'.. I am not sure how many people have been through tunnels and found that light at the end of them.. It must be nothing but bliss finally finding that light.. not having to be afraid of the darkness anymore right? Well I wouldn't know ..Why you ask?.. Because ever since I found my way to the end of that rabbit hole I have known no peace..

I recently realized that when I was going through that tunnel all my energies were focused on survival.. Getting both through & out of it.. I had never given it any serious thought until last week when something  really unfortunate happened... let's just say that's a story for another day..

Let me put it this way... How about two people are walking in a market place.. One is however blind though and there happens to be a wind blowing and it just so happens that by a twist of fate both men have pepper blown into their eyes... Of course you would expect the man who could see to suffer both irritation and temporary loss of vision and the other just irritation right? Well if both men were to stumble and trip all over the other traders wares, when the effects of the pepper in their eyes wore off the man who could see properly would be expected to pay for everything he destroyed and the blind man would just be presumed blind and life would go on right?

Well in this case I would think of myself as the man who could see... and when I got to the end of the rabbit hole I looked back to see how far I'd come... I didn't feel a sense of accomplishment... on the contrary all I could feel was remorse.. I couldn't understand why I had to destroy so many relationships & burn so many bridges.. some I can't even put back up even if I tried... I am afraid of being in that same state all over again where everything I do is only driven by an instinct to survive.. where I'm in no frame of neither mind nor heart to be sensitive enough about the suffering I cause.. That to me is darkness..

I envy blind men though.. People who have known no peace of mind.. Escapists & the depressed.. Not because they have a valid reason for acting the way they do but because they have this callousness brought about by both ignorance & insensitivity.. They are blind to the consequences of their actions and almost always manage to heap  the blame on a state of mind rather than themselves...

Shifting blame is not a luxury I can afford...Not when I am still in this frame of mind.. Well I am still afraid of a lot of things... mediocrity, death & now darkness.. It only seems as though my list keeps growing and my capability to deal with everything? well It still remains static...

Light at the end of the tunnel is both a blessing & a curse... I tend to think it's because the universe should remain in balance.. So is the war between good & evil... I think the light is still there.. and maybe I wasn't supposed to look back on how far I'd come... But even if I hadn't I'm still sure I would have ended up a blind man..(which is not such a bad thing after all)

I have to go now.. The pretty receptionist at the desk says it's my turn.. I have no idea what to tell this man now..

Till next session.... Goodbye Nairobi.

My struggle with self...

Have you ever tried explaining the word apathy to anyone?.. If your answer is yes then I'm darn sure you found it next to impossible right?

Well I'm in the same state of apathy.. I hardly ever want to do anything.. Even breathe.. Existentialists will argue that I'm being ungrateful since I'm in good health and not lying in some hospital somewhere on life support... Yes i'm grateful for life..

I've been seated on this side of the therapy couch trying to explain to this supposed shrink what it is that I feel... All I have been able to tell him is that I really want to be with someone but I'm not even sure on how to go about it.. It's almost the same as needing to get something from your refrigerator because you need a snack and not having the will to get up & going to get it then getting infuriated at yourself for putting yourself in that position in the first place..It's a vicious cycle I tell you..

My mom argues that I'm depressed.. My friend tells me that I'm overthinking it.. Well I might as well be... See for some time now I've wanted to do something with my life.. so that it at-least makes sense.. But then I wake up the next morning and realize that I'm still in the same situation I was in yesterday...

I tell this man seated across that I've been having really disturbing dreams of late.. well right before I discovered chamomile tea... he asks me to tell him about all of him and I ask him if his name is by any chance Daniel..(well depression does that to a lot of people).

"I can only remember this particular one... I was seated somewhere in the middle of nowhere.. but now that I think about it I'm pretty sure that the nowhere was at the Aga khan walk... It was a chilly morning and the fog was super thick... I must've been waiting for someone to come along.... well the person didn't come along for about twenty minutes or so and when he finally did I couldn't see his face.. but everything else felt familiar about him.. his slight limp... the tone of his voice, the lean build... the hair...

It took me about twenty minutes to realize that I was in fact looking at myself..."Look at what you've done to me" he said... I couldn't understand him at first, but I found myself staring straight into the hollow in his hoodie where his face should've been...
He walked off without warning and the mist cleared almost immediately... I had been looking at myself for close to twenty minutes..."

I can't remember anything else from there and I find myself staring straight into this man's eyes again.. I do that only when I'm hopeless...

"You do realize that your dreams are an expression of everything in your sub-conscious mind.. and this dream you had is as a result of a conflict in identity?.. I would say that the only thing on your mind right now is making sense of your life as you've already told me... You've tried your hand in a lot of things and you seem to be good at them... has it occurred to you that you might be following the wrong path... don't exert so much pressure on yourself...

When I was your age the only thing I wanted to do was make music... but when my father found out he whisked me off to a school abroad faster than I could protest...I spent a whole year trying to come back home, flunking my classes.. basically anything that would get me expelled...I came this close to destroying myself before I witnessed a car accident.. Well everyone involved died but it changed my life.. I'm just sad that so many people had to die before I got on the right track..I joined the corps from then on and eventually the military as a counselor for trauma and stress victims from the wars..

See time has a way of making sense out of most things... Hurtful experiences become memories.. wounds become scars.. Seeds grow into trees... Ideas materialize... Time & pain are the sculptors of all things beautiful.. Take your time & try not to rush things...Maybe change the people you spend most of your time with, your wardrobe if it frustrates you, clear your entire playlist and maybe take up yoga classes if you can...

I'm glad that my father unknowingly set me on this path... I'm in a better position to change more lives including my own than I would've if I'd chosen to follow my own path... I'm hoping time will make things easier for you as you go along.. and never let yourself be driven by the fear of becoming someone you're not.. Life happens and things change.. and the best reaction to change is always resignation"

Well whatever he is saying seems to make no sense at all.. except that part where I'm driven by the fear of mediocrity..(has anyone come up with a name for that yet?).. I guess I'm at that point in my life where we run out of things to be then find out that you can't be yourself because you don't know who you are... Well because you spent almost all your time trying to be things / people you're not and never will be...

I'll continue seeing this man for as long as my pocket lets me.. He seems to understand.. or at-least pretend that he does... I still have that feeling in my chest.. that my life is only going round in circles.. Well maybe some time in the future I'll look back at all this and be happy that I at-least my mid life crisis early..

I'm still driven by my fears of being mediocre and lonely(and lots of other things)... I still don't trust the person I'm yet to become as much as I trust karma & common goodwill... But trust is something you earn right?...(the person I'm to become has a lot of work to do)

I'm still looking for change.. & again I ask.. Change, won't you come my way?

Thou shalt not...

Today is a good day.. Yes I finally got paid.. No not the HELB money.. some other deal I was working on.. Yes.. I think I qualify as working class now.. I still haven't left the walking class yet.. I'm not even planning on leaving that class anytime soon.. I heard walking was healthy..It reduces your chances of contracting type 2 diabetes.. And I'm a big fan of Kalonje's and Lyta... I mean.. I still can't get enough of Sauti Sol's "Kama ni chapati tumeshawakalia" blaring in my ears every time I board a route 125 jav...(sorry I digress)

Nonetheless today is a good day... You can tell from the smile on my face.. and the bottle of whisky sitting in-front of me half empty.. Half empty  because I've already emptied the other half of the fire water into my belly... and I am a happy man.. or twenty year old...

My friend says that whisky was coffee for the gods... I still can't remember the other half of the theory..  how some clever mortal managed to steal the concoction from the heavens and yada... drunks are amazing people.. and not the type of guys who drink rum and vodka... those guys are just downright crazy....

So today after I got paid I went home.. not because I had kids to take care of or a wife to go home to.. but because there's this new joint I've been dying to try out... well since my local burned down about a month ago...(moment of silence for all the bottles of fire water wasted)


The counter is fairly empty..It's not as packed as the place I was used to.. maybe the barman isn't as afable as the last one.. or maybe because it's a new joint... but there's this female... decent black dress, hair tied up in a bun.. bright red lipstick and her skin.. Flawless... oh and she has no purse... just keys...

She must be looking for her husband or fiance or boyfriend... she looks agitated though.. Oh look she's asked for a drink.. It looks like a tripple whisky.. wait no rocks.. okay wait wait.. (who does that?) I'm beginning to feel emasculated.. I usually can't speak for twenty minutes after downing one of those...but I guess she has her demons.. (maybe her's have already learnt how to swim,those ones are pretty hard to drown)

Drunk people are the best... My empathy levels are at a record high.. so I collect myself from my seat and head over to the counter.. with my bottle in tow.. I guess now the alcohol is driving me.. (cars feel like shit btw.. I'm still waiting for when these cars will decide to talk like Balaam's donkey)...
yes so I'm headed over to the counter and I can hardly walk.. but I'm almost there..

"Are you okay?" she coos... What am I supposed to say? and so I desperately try to invoke the mystic powers of the fire water already in my system.. "yes, maybe , I honestly can't tell," I manage to whisper...

She wants whatever is left of my bottle.. (Empathy level:100) and I can't stop myself from handing it to her..(alcohol you son of a...)... She is looking for her husband she says.. He supposedly called her and asked her to come settle the bill for him since he'd lost his wallet...(I stifle a laugh since I know the deal)..and I'm darn sure Nani* took his wallet.. I know because Nani* has made off with several wallets including mine.. she's notorious, anyone who is a reveler knows that she's bad news...

She wants my phone.. to try & call him,.. Look at me reaching into my pocket and giving it to her... (alcohol I will kill you) ... She can't reach him I suppose... Oh well.. so much for marriage and relationships.. I figure I could as well make small talk before he decides to show up...

Next thing I know I'm on the floor...( I wasn't that drunk to fall off a bar stool).. I think someone must've pushed me... I try to sit up and there's a dull pain and a thump in my lower abdomen.. I think someone is beating me up... well someone is helping me up.. (Lord bless this drinking working Nation)...

This man in his mid thirties... trimmed beard and shirt sleeves folded.. His eyes are bloodshot and he is mad with fury... He must think I was trying to hit on his wife...Well I'm so drunk I can hardly make anything of the conversation/ monologue... I never fight back in bars.. ever since I broke someone's nose and almost got sued for assault with a deadly weapon...

This guy wants to keep beating me up.. Who beats up a twenty year old who is drinking alone? I mean he should be calling a therapist instead... But this twenty year old has had enough.. I need to go home.. and she has my phone.. It's crazy how pain instantly invokes sobriety.. well atleast for me it does...

I think I broke a few ribs... or maybe seriously bruised something else that isn't my ego... but I don't mind.. Tomorrow I'll just abuse some painkillers and head out to class... I can't find her now.. I think she made off with my phone...

The husband is still raving.. he doesn't seem to want to calm down... I just remembered  I need to be in town tomorrow before nine... I have a score to settle with a guy who ripped me off years ago... Revenge is more important than my phone.. plus I could always buy another....

I've spent ten minutes between the entrance to the premises and the parking lot trying to take inventory..I don't think I have anything broken...

"Hey.. I thought you'd already left.. I'm so sorry about my husband though.. He's the jealous type..I hope you didn't break anything.. but even if you did here's my card.. I'll foot your medical bill..."

I'm not so tipsy anymore... I'm a little light headed though.. but at least I can get home on my own...

I try looking at the card again...and my lips slowly curve into a very sly smile..."you have her card and a guilty conscience on your side playa.."...

I should be hissing and complaining from the pain in my abdomen...and the dull ache in my head, I am instead smiling... smiling at the pain?! No.. Smiling at the prospects of a better day in the morning and at the thought of seeing her again...

Why you ask?... Yes you guessed it right.. I am in pain.. but most importantly I am  a boy in love with someone else's wife...(bad decision)

Isn't is safe to now say..."Nimekaliwa chapati?!"

Jilted..

I am seated atop a high stool at my local on this cold Thursday evening trying to decide between asking for another drink and getting on the floor and grabbing the mic from the lady who was currently assaulting my ear drums with a rather high pitched voice and more misplaced notes than my biro's when I was in high school...(you can all relate)

I am not a huge fan of alcohol though.. but some of my friends managed to convince me that brewers these days put something in the alcohol that triggers temporary amnesia..(makes you forget).. I have a fantastic memory if I may say so myself .. but that memory is my undoing today.. I need to forget.. I've been nursing this shot of whisky for close to a half hour now.. I'm not sure whether to down it or not but my desperation inhibits reason and before I know it I'm asking the bartender to hit me again.. "Jamey double kama kawaida tu" I call out before he walks to the other end of the counter...

I'm feeling a little light headed now...I think the alcohol is beginning to take effect.. but the forgetting isn't.. I thought it hits at almost the same time as the tipsy..at this point I'm tempted to ask the waiter kama 'hii Jameson ni ile mpya yenye inafanya mtu asahau...' but the lady holding the mic is exceptionally loud & annoying now I'm seriously thinking of yanking the hair off her head... 

The good waiter hands me my drink & I ask how many shots I have left on my tab.. Three will keep me going for the rest of the night.. Did I mention that I came here to forget? Yes.. to forget.. A person and losing yet another member of the family but more importantly to forget the person..

This person who's the reason I've come here today just woke up and decided that I wasn't worth her time... Well I don't know for sure but I guess she did..I would ask her if only she would text me back... I'm not even sure that coming here was a good idea but hey I have to nurse my misery yes? and what better way to nurse it than with a few shots of brown whisky? The lady with the mic has finally piped down or maybe she passed out ..hahah I don' know.. but the dj has taken over.. and guess what the first song he plays is.. TRUST ME I don't know either.. hahah but I'll shazam it later..

oh back to this person now.. I have been trying to forget.. Oh I even tried taking the blame for everything that happened.. but it hasn't worked at all.. I guess it doesn't almost always work.. I've tried making excuses too.. and maybe somewhere in my chest I know that I still wait for her to hit me up and ask me how I'm doing.. I need another drink.. I might as well triple shot this whisky and kill myself... 

It's been five minutes.. I can't feel my fingers now.. hahah and my eyes feel numb .. why don't they play any John DeMatthew here? Do I have airtime? I think I just might call her and ask her if she's doing okay.. but it's probably a really bad idea.. but what if I text her? she might just take a screenshot and send it to her friends.. that's a bad idea too.. Where did the waiter even go now? I need that triple shot and a soda.. Did you know that they sell soda for a hundred bob here? hahah I guess drunk people are really generous with their money right?

This waiter guy is too good though.. he's brought me a black coffee instead... He says I need to go home.. and he's asking about the other girl.. "aah huyo.. it's been months hata, can't even remember the last time I talked to her" haha well I'm like that..My live like you don't exist game is on steroids..  I'm beginning to get really drowsy now.. I think he's right.. I need to get going now.. 

It's been a rough couple of days.. I haven't had any sleep in like three... but I'm holding up a lot better now.. last week I thought I would die.. I don't even know what from.. but I thought I would die.. I don't think I can forget.. I don't think I ever will..*(future impossible tense.. the tense in which arsenal will win the premier league).. I think the best thing to do right now is to just get used to the fact that she's no longer interested and neither is she here...

Naz (my friend) says that sometimes you meet people and they're not meant to stay.. but those who are meant to stay end up doing so even if you're the shittiest person they know...(God bless her soul)

I'll be back though.. hopefully the next time I won't be looking forward to nursing a hangover...

and before I forget.. there is no new and improved alcohol for triggering temporary amnesia.. at least not the stuff I drink.. (It's just a marketing gimmick)..

Till next time.. I need to look for a motorbike... I don't think I can walk home...