…Like the Duchess you are.

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I distance myself from my feelings so I never know what I want to say when I want to say something. I mean, I know I need to say something but I don’t know what because I don’t know why. It’s important for me to know why because I need a reason for things. I need to know structure so I can deduce meaning and then understand what it is that must be communicated. It’s hard to do that when you aren’t close to your subject matter. To understand it you must become it. Lol, I avoid that. I avoid association with that icky yucky, sticky cesspool that is human emotion. Whenever I feel it coming on (much too frequently these days for my peace of mind), I actively ignore it. It’s there, and that’s frustrating enough, but I make sure I don’t give it a voice. It mustn’t take hold. I never allow it to take hold.

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The Wind was at My Back; The Last Leg

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As I stood at the edge of the somewhat enormous crater, bent over, hands on knees, looking out over the open landscape, the orange light illuminating everything to minute detail I thought, good God I’m going to feel this in the morning. And I did.

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Parallel to the Ground; An Experience.

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We might have stopped perhaps twice before we left the town proper, but I can’t tell you with certainty. I was largely oblivious between us leaving the house and us branching on to the bypass that flew across the Naivasha – Nairobi highway.  The scenery was nothing to write home about. You had dry savannah land from before you left the Nakuru town centre, all the way into Naivasha….and… also out of it. The Mt. Long’onot National park (where we were going), was situated to the right on the outskirts of town coming from Nakuru; the highway outside to the left. You could skirt the town on your way to it.  But anyway, as you head towards our destination, a quiet kind of green, a silent green shimmering against the silvery background of the Lake named for the town, sorta sneaks up on you. Continue reading “Parallel to the Ground; An Experience.”

A Marriage of Convenience; The Beginning.

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I was sitting in the back of a car, wondering how I’d gotten there. My friend at the time was riding shotgun and our driver could be described as wearing a black turban with his white hair peeking out beneath it; a Sikh. I don’t know how they’d met each other but she’d asked me along, now that I think about it, to bring life to their party. Not a well thought out move on her part. He was very quiet, sure, but I can’t say I’m much better.

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Struggles Du Jour – Who talk but don’t Do.

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Friday the tenth, twelve thirteen pm. Employees are walking around whispering in the corridors. And from the window on one side of the wall of their office, the manager can be seen repeatedly loosening his tie and scratching at his bald spot. He’s taken to coming to work without a coat. The office he shares with the co-director seems cramped and cluttered with chairs and used tea cups. The air inside is hot and the ceiling fan has been running non-stop since Monday. Footsteps echo along the laminate flooring outside their door. It’s been nine days since the end of the month and no one’s been paid.

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I Still Go There In My Head

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I see it as from outside a window,
Myself walking fast, head bowed,
Life happening all around me without sound,
Distanced even then, not sure I know why
The paces of development grow hazy around that line.

My heart was soft,
My head curiously empty,
A balloon floating along,
Not certain where she might belong
Continue reading “I Still Go There In My Head”