I have a debt collector who I owe an unlimited amount of debt.

You gave birth to me. 

You went to a far way land to support me.

Years passed. Connection fell apart.

You became a stranger who is very familiar to me.

Pays the house I live in. The food I eat. My education.

I have been a stubborn girl.

I rebel.

I am an atheist.

I am undecided about my future.

I am 23 years old.

I really made you mad this time.

I made you mad because of something I don’t really see any wrong with.

You have to have everything your way.

You expect me to turn to your tunes.

I rebel.

You say you are fed up with me. You have been silent for a long time and you have kept it to yourself.

I want to move out so bad.

I want to have a job and just get out from under your thumb.

I just don’t know where to start.

I don’t Want the words to hear every time I upset you is “if you don’t like it. Then move out.”

Someone would think you live here with us but you still live in that far away land and still want to run this household. My life.

I don’t desire to go to that faraway land to you and go deeper under your thumb. 

Its scares me most.

I do not want to need you.

Needing you is scary.

I am supposed to need you. Want you. You gave birth to me.

But your like a debt collector to me. 

I want to repay everything you have Done for me. 

I got into an unlimited debt that can never be enough no matter what I do.

Your a debt collector I want to repay this unlimited debt and I want to stay away from you.

I don’t want to build my future around you.

Makes me such a bad daughter. I am a bad daughter.

8 Days after my Big chop. 

It feels like a lifetime and I suddenly have so much to do with my new look and hair.

Cutting my hair to my mom was a mute discussion. Not going to happen which happened. 

In this eight days. I have battled with everything. I have never had short hair and its a new experience. 

I always went to the salon to have my hair. So I don’t know what Shampo to use or conditioner and you google and you find all this hair products that have me wincing because I am in Kenya.Africa. 

All those recommendations are not going to help because they are damn expensive and the shipping costs too much.

I have a dictator in my life who is telling me none of the styles I see on Pinterest suite my face. That I should just chop it off and let it grow like Afro where I am gunning for a Tapered hairstyle.

Which she progresses to inform me that those hairstyle’s aren’t natural hair and if they are, our hair are not the same.

Which begs a question that I really wish someone will answer.

(Do we (meaning African women) have different hair texture from the African foreign? (Not only for the African American but also those in Europe, and Asia.)

I have read enough to see we do have the same hair texture. Different but similar.

So this new haircut of mine is something I want to experience. To experiment moderately and I am trying to tell her very politely that 

“Can I just like know my hair. Let me do my hair. Let me make memories and know what style not to put. Can I?)

Reading a good book in public is hard to do…

I am at the hospital taking my dad to an eye specialist and as I wait…wait…

I am reading a translated Chinese novel called My Mr. Ostrich by Han Yan and crying is hard not to. 

I am a cry baby and me without crying is an alien using my body as a host.

Anyway. Wiping my tears in what I think is a strategic way, wondering if they see I am crying. 

I cry a lot in movies and books. My family just shake their head because I get really emotional depending on how deep it is.

This My Mr. Ostrich. Is a story about an impaired guy and his love Ms. Crab.

A book about how him having no arms, his journey with her always at his side from a young age , The things he went through. A true Cinderella story of his despite his disability. He was loved thoroughly by his Ms. Crab.

Their story reminds me of a line I read in the Outlander novel. 

When Jamie Fraser said 

“Lord you gave me a rare woman and God I loved her well…”
Interested? Type Sheshung bar Translation. On your Google search.

It will be the first link. Open and there will be numerous translators who have taken their time to translate their favorite Chinese novels to English. 

They make me happy because the Chinese novels are truly fantastic. They have me crying and laughing a lot. Some had me wishing I never read it. One I cried in the bathroom.I don’t think i have ever been so heartbroken by something else after Titanic.

Come Back to Reality…

I have been told this line. That I should get my head out of whatever ass I am in. Lol. Though I am curious as to what reality am I not in?

As an Introvert. I am very picky with friends. I do not go out for the sole purpose of making friends. Its draining. I do not like it. I believe friendship that is meant to be will be. The fates have deemed for us to be kindred spirits so why the rush?

My lack of religion. Is the second thing.

I have very different activities that are focused on my phone. You would think I am busy chatting up with my pals but I just ended a 10 year friendship that was draining me…me who made the countless effort to work on this friendship but it kept getting tossed to my face.

Back to my activities. Yes. Activities that has a way of me never getting bored when alone. I yawn when I am in a crowd but I rarely yawn when I am alone. How ironic.

My activities center on using WiFi and if not WiFi my bundles. Thank you Unliminet Airtel for existing.

If I am not finishing up my projects, I am either watching a Korean drama or reading a Japanese manga (comic book). *and no Mangas are not only for kids. In fact they should not be reading Mangas I read.*

I update my stories on wattpad. 

I go to sheshung bar translation to pick out the next book to read. (*Sheshung Bar is a site that has links to various Chinese novel translators from the ancient novels to the wuxia novels and modern novels. Fantastically translated by certain individuals and making people more aware of Chinese literature.*)

If not. I am busy listening to an audio book as I embroider. 

I am bonified spinster prodigy only thing I am lacking is a cat.

As you have seen. I have a deep interest in the Asian Culture. 

No. I don’t find myself caring if Kaleche started going to the gym after she donated blood and was told she was too fat and realized that been fat isn’t healthy or that she celebrated her 40th birthday having lost (IDFC) weight.

Or nor I am I updated to exactly why people got pissed when Baraka sat on the presidents chair. 

Or nor I care about the latest Kilimani Mums hula baloo. I am not a mom yet to actually Care about Kilimani mums shenanigans.

So because I don’t keep up with what entertaines you that means I am not in reality. 

And my friends unfortunately do not share links with such entertainment. I don’t know why perhaps because our interest is centered on other things that do not revolve around the Kilimani mums kirende.

This big world of ours has become a small.

My interest will change with time. Just let me enjoy this out of reality interests that do not keep me bored. Just as long as they do not make better kdramas or write better Chinese novels or create better Mangas and Manhwas and webtoons.

You see Trash, I see Magic.

My room has been said to be a mess. Yes. It is is mess though the definition of a mess to you is what I see as neat.

I do not have dirty laundry. Never. 

I clean my room.

But my room is filled with “trash” because of the novels, books filled with my stories and sometimes I scribble on papers. 

The papers with my attempt at drawing.

My embroidery threads and the cut up fabrics. 

Its my little heaven of magical land with all my favorite things that you so crave to clean but your forgetting its not your room but mine.

I hang on to things and when I get tired of this things is when I’ll throw them away but not on your terms. 

First day at the barber shop.

Not really first time. Taking my nephew isn’t qualified is it?

Anyway. My first time was after my big chop. Cutting the long hair that I took pride in and I came to conclusion. People say I have nice hair. Never said I looked good in it. 

I decided to chop of the relaxed hair and to my natural hair where I looked a total mess after it.

The guy did cut my relaxed hair but didn’t give my hair shape and after staring at it for two days. I rushed to the nearest barber shop where he Cut my hair. Just how I wanted my head to be shaped. 

Though I am sure he  tried his very best to be patient. Since I kept panicking that I’ll end up looking bald if I don’t keep an eye on it and my poor eyesight wasn’t helping keep watch.

I kept putting my glasses back on just to instruct him (which was annoying)

And I decided to shut up and just put my trust on the guy to make me look good. 

I had assumed that my head shape was just a mess but after that. I am back to loving my head.

The impression of not been alone.

 Often I would hear someone say that they want a large house. In a large piece of land where they build a large house that of course shows dominance and advertising that its a house built for the wealthy.

Yet here I don’t think I can live alone without a neighbour who lives close by. Enough to hear me banshee scream when danger strikes. 

I crave to hear the sound of a next door neighbor. Perhaps re arranging the room at 2 in the morning. The sound of life happening around me.

The impression of not been alone even though communication lacks between us. The silence of an area puts me on edge. 

And I don’t like that feeling.