Bandaid to My Soul-HIM.

I sit at our usual spot

waiting for him

and my mind wanders away

to the woods it has become all too familiar with,

I think of him a lot,

even when he’s around me

he’s occupied my every thought now,

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If I’m entirely honest,

and you say I must be

I want to stay with you all afternoon

evening,night and tomorrow

pressed into you so tightly that we don’t

know whose belly made what sound,

whose heart it is that is thumping like 

that

until I don’t know if the sweat on my

chest is yours or mine or ours

-Yrsa Daley-Ward

I sit at our usual spot

waiting for him

and my mind wanders away

to the woods it has become all too familiar with,

I think of him a lot,

even when he’s around me

he’s occupied my every thought now,

I walk with a glistening face,

not because of the vaseline I smeared on

but because of the happiness pouring from all my pores;

his scent surrounds my entire being

his words are the bubble in which I exist in

his voice sends chills down me and a cold wave washes over me

I want to listen to it all the time,

so I keep on replaying our conversations that I have on my phone

feeling his voice anew every time,

smiling goofily,

closing my eyes when I hear his chuckle

I hear ‘the best things happen when our eyes are closed’

it’s worth the shot,right?

it’s mind shattering,I must say

and this shoots straight hoops inside my heart

His eyes always light up like fireworks on New Years eve

when he talks about the things he loves;

ancient architecture,motorcycles and comics

technology and travel

pets,especially pets

and his family,

he’s so passionate about life,such  wild enthusiasm

and I am always seated there

staring at him

thinking,always thinking

but only coming to one conclusion

I love this simple creature before me

who is human in his very own being

and I can’t hold back the smile creeping up on me.

I want to swim with him to the ends of this ocean

I want to crawl into every cave with him,side by side

I want to feel one with him in every way possible

I want to feel like I am riding on every high tide with him and later drown in it,together

I want to quench all our thirsts,all our hungers,all our desires, together

I want to be vulnerable with him,and only him

I want to watch sunsets with him,and only him

I want to walk on the sandy beaches with him,and only him

I want to go on adventures with him,and only him

I want to watch the stars with him,and only him

I just want him

and I see all the answers I need in his eyes

I don’t have words enough to describe that longing look

and it’s okay

I am okay with that.

That’s enough,

He is enough

I am enough

It’s just the two of us.

joymoraa©

Yrsa Daley-Ward is an amazing poet,with her works pulling at your heartstrings.All credit goes to the beautiful soul(from the blocked quote at the top)

THE 7 OH 9 GUY

I am contemplating on whether the ticket prices for Diplo’s concert are reasonable and whether I will part ways with that amount which I could use for a little adventure like ziplining but isn’t Diplo’s performance going to be a night affair that will stamp a lifetime memory in me huh?So many questions, such inadequate answers.
Hoot hoot!
This thought train comes to an immediate halt.

​Maybe we’re perfect strangers,maybe it’s not forever.Maybe the life won’t change us…Maybe we’ll realize,we’re only human.Maybe we don’t need no reason.~Perfect strangers[Jonas Blue ft JP Cooper]

I am contemplating on whether the ticket prices for Diplo’s concert are reasonable and whether I will part ways with that amount which I could use for a little adventure like ziplining but isn’t Diplo’s performance going to be a night affair that will stamp a lifetime memory in me huh?So many questions, such inadequate answers.
Hoot hoot!
This thought train comes to an immediate halt.
Lo and behold!
He was in a black sweater and some navy blue or dark blue dresspants and some nice chelsea boots,brown ones,ones that resembled the colour of coffee beans.

He carried a water bottle,a Sport one.I saw it when he was dangling it and I thought it was empty,you know considering the fact it was in the evening,the sun had already gone down and wisps of darkness had started seeping in, clearing the daylight subtly ,until I saw him drink from it and my inner voice just yelled a bless your soul at the top of her lungs. A guy carrying a water bottle always sent a message home.

Always did.

Because there was always a story to that,for some reason, that I am yet to figure out.

I was already playing our water conversation in my head.I am very fluid as you can sea.Anyway I digress, as always.

As I am just thinking why the heck did I not refill my bottle we could be water buddies for all I know ,I see one of the homeless kids ,who are always hanging around,walking against the direction that we were taking and once she sees a human being sauntering down that road she quickly scampers towards him and lifts her little palms, already cupped.
“Uncleee!” she whines in a really small voice.I could imagine the number of times she had said that today to the number of strangers walking by. My heart was silently sobbing for this poor little girl.I quickly check my pockets for any coins and I recall that I always put my money in my purse which is far when I calculate how long I would have to take to get to it, I frown but my heart warms at the gesture the 709 guy was extending towards the little girl.
He stops,takes some coins from his right handside pocket, crosschecks them or counts them ,I don’t know which of the two and hands them to the little girl

(He had stopped walking and I was still walking.I did not want to overtake him,so I was macktime-walking this whole time)

I smile and so I decide to look at him close enough .We had walked for close to 120m, him ahead of me and me trailing at the back with a 2 and a half metre gap in between,he had turned twice already to check who was at the back.A petty buglar, a stalker, a kidnapper, a crazy ex perhaps.You just never know these days.Personal security checks are key. He clearly was not an oblivious walker.

I keep up with my scrutiny,not as microscopic as I’d like but this would do for now.He was holding onto his bag tightly,too tightly if you would ask me.I could already tell that was a laptop in there he’s holding onto with his dear life. He had slung it over his shoulder blades,not the really cool ones but a decent bag all the same. We pass the first estate ,he does not get in,yeees ,I could hear that little bitch in my head.I inwardly roll my eyes.Suddenly,out of nowhere, a hiccough started rising from my throat and forcing its way out but I managed to suppress it partly as a loud unpleasant sound erupts from my mouth, he turns again and I almost ask him for water with my eyes for that split second but I decide against it and blink severally covering my mouth in the process, after I muttered a muffled ‘excuse me’.
He does not turn right either,where the 2nd estate is located and my hopes rise by like 0.0000000078X that he may come from my estate which was still ahead,that just this once I would make friends with my neighbours, I mean him ofcourse, not the old chaps living in my neighborhood,that I will put an end to my solitary long walks to & from school, at times a little company does no harm,yes?

I keep watching him and what I thought was his gait and posture is actually a limp,he seemed uncomfortable and I felt concern wash through me.A series of questions were on my tongue already,holding to the restraint(my buccal cavity hehe) tightly not to unleash any thing; have you applied pressure to that point huh? Applied any ointment, deep heat ,fastum maybe?what happened? Basketball,football or is it rugby,no you don’t look like a rugy guy,no offence or maybe you were tackling a roommate and things turned sour for you?Huh?

I guess in the end we’re all human, a little too much at times. I felt so human that I wanted to reach out to this stranger and ask him all questions that were going through my always busy mind, and when he did not turn left as I headed to my estate,my heart dropped to its knees.I felt like asking him where home was,embrace him in a warm hug and tell him to go safe and watch his back too and to call me when he arrives which could or could not break into a longer wonderful conversation; few jokes here and there ,several bad puns, lamentations about how terrible Nairobi weather is,crazy exes, revelations about presumably a new weed supplier ahem buddy , biko zulu, milk and unga prices,poetry maybe, monglebacch, shitty music and we would see where the night would take us but I could not,because that is what we did to ourselves,not that society ever shoved it down our throat.We made it a wrong thing to do such little acts that are always screaming love makes the world go round.We made this earth unsafe for our own selves. We became less trusting and more doubting.We became more about self.And because of that my 709 guy slipped past me just like that,like sand through my fingers.
Even if I see him tomorrow in school, I would not place his face because I could not see his whole face clearly and even if I did see his face and place it quite well in bright daylight,there was nothing I could do about it even the common robotic ‘hey there’ but I know for sure our eyes will talk,that unspoken satisfying conversation that eyes have the power to hold.
And with that I bid my byes to the 709 guy who had no clue of all this that was going through my busy mind, who maybe had boarded a matatu headed to his place or maybe lives the estate across the road or down the road; so many possibilities exist here but till then he will always be the 709 guy.

Stay safe 709 guy.

And if you ever stumble upon this piece about you,please tell me if your foot recovered and resumed to it’s normal posture, I bet you have a leisured,laid back posh walk, I was taking notes,remember?

Simple-Be human,that’s the whole essence of life.❤

P.S-709 is 1909 hrs in common lingo here in most Kenyan towns,seven oh nine.
joymoraa©

The Girl

Another week,another post.It has been such a long weekend and my head was in the gutter the whole time,watching the stars and being mesmerized all along,figuratively,until my reminder went off and now here we are.I have been working on several pieces,I always want to create a scene that’s holistic,that a reader can build on and have the final picture as it is.I am a work in progress,with time and feedback,I will grow into that.

So here’s something,it’s short.

My life has narrowed down to people watching.I used to be all awkward and uneasy about it,doing it while scratching my scalp or flipping a page of a book that I’m not even interested about.I don’t even like reading,who am I kidding but people yes yes!I like the human race and everything within and without this particular kind.I have a notebook where I jot down random stuff and things I notice in the bus on my way to work or in the park where I go just to be by myself or in this coffeeshop that’s right across where I work,and it’s in this coffee shop where all things come to life for me.

There’s always soft music playing from the overhead speakers,people rushing in and out of the place,some are the loyal ones whom we have this sense of familiarity with,some are the nerdy college students who always come here to read-there is a silent sanctuary at the corner that has rows and piles of books and single armchairs and couches that have big,colourful fluffy pillows.I guess coffee and books are a beautiful,well thought out match, and then there are the interns,they are so obvious,the word I-N-T-E-R-N is always written across their faces,their body movements and their dressing.God,their dressing!Sigh.And then there are those whom I have not figured out,I was working on that.

She was one of those whom I had not figured out.She piqued my interest unknowingly.She was carefully picking her nose when she thought no one was watching her.Of course no one was,okay except me but I was not watching her really,I was studying her.

I know your thoughts have raced to ‘kiss the girls’ ,one of James Patterson’s famous novel, worry not,friends. 

She was an interesting subject;her ways of trying to escape the attention from people,of her picking her nose.I laughed gently,in my thoughts of course with a smirk stricken across my dull face.I found it quite humorous with the relief that was across her face from the satisfaction of a clean nose,with no boogies left or maybe that one,that persistent one that is always resistant,hesitant even,stuck in between the skins,far at the back, insistent of its short lived existence as she tries to chuck it.She turns abruptly,I think she wants to stand up and leave but she is taking a pack of Fay pocket tissues.I kind of know the brand names of these things,oddly enough.It is a new pack,I can tell just from the way she is handling it,like how most people handle their new packs-the silent elation that goes unnoticed,unappreciated but me being me,I know these little quaint activities because somehow they cause ripples of unending joy,through one’s body.Her lips have curved a bit,I make a mental note,she really gets excited at the sight of new things-her little stubby fingers with chapped nail polish on both her index finger and thumb of both hands open the pack delicately,careful not to tear any of the wrapper apart.She’s a cautious soul,who likes her things a certain way. She then slides one piece out and I can imagine what she’s feeling right now,the unstoppable and ineffable  pleasure of using new things.

I knew it was that last boogie that is always insistent that was bugging her,aaah, the little things in life.Her next move is quite obvious,she bows her head down slightly towards the table top,and digs in,massacring and chopping off the life of that boogie to shreds,I believe and maybe spitting some cuss words in her head.Damn that boogie,I am feeling kind of sorry for it,but then again,no,not at all.I side with her-kill it,finish it,that nagging little thing has got to come out.As she comes up,with a cleaner nose than before(I hope),her mind is elsewhere,really occupied,maybe thinking about Nairobi traffic and if she has the necessary amount of tolerance to stand it or maybe that boring philosophy lecturer who goes on and on about life and existence and the knowledge of man’s existence or maybe these are just my trivial thoughts.

As I am analysing all these,I hear a female voice right in front of me Do you mind? It’s a cold one,one that speaks volumes on how life is just not flowing with them,not going with their vibes and I immediately feel compassion for this person,this human being and then I look up and see it’s the girl I had been staring at shamelessly and she’s giving me this look that has me feeling like my bladder will burst in not less than three minutes if she does not move,anything,even the glare that she’s directing at me.

 

joymoraa©