make mine a double espresso...

• depression...

  Posted: May 26, 2010, 7:48 pm by missWairema

  
  
  winter + exam fever.
  i hate off days. i just want to sulk in bed with a really huge bowl of chicken soup. and not the instant cuppa-soup stuff. i want soup from our thai place. it's really chilli and has huge chunks of chicken in it. sadly, finances and time will not allow me to go get some. plus i don't even know how i'd carry take away soup in a matatu. maybe i go with a flask...
  i need to buy a flask.
  
  for now ladies and gents of Blogospheria, i remain waiting. waiting to be unsulked.

• re(hoe)bilitation

  Posted: May 24, 2010, 8:49 pm by kahawamoto

  you can't turn a hoe into a house wife. - Ludacris
  i saw the word 'rehoebilitation' on twitter. i think it was DeRay Davis. you know how comedians are always talking smack on twitter. But there we have it. The sources have been cited. Don't sue.
  
  That transformation, when a woman realizes her worth and stops doing it with random men, is it possible?
  There were jokes about it, like it'll take about five years for a bad reputation to wear off, some people think it's not truly possible unless there's some form of religious intervention, or first there has to be some kind of mental breakdown...
  
  your thoughts on the topic?
  and is it possible for one to really be able to wipe their slate clean?
  
  i wrote a piece that kind of relates.
  Enjoy.
  
  
  INTERNAL PROTEST
  as she lays on the metaphorical bed she made,
  she can’t help but feel like she could have spread.
  It.
  Better.
  now she lays everyday,
  wishing she could roll over and die
  on the brink of depression, she cries.
  
  she feels her sprit breaking within her,
  drenched.
  Drowning.
  in her own tears…
  this past couple of years, have been a blur
  drunken slurs
  battle scars
  frequenting bars
  fast cars
  
  she feels her spirit breaking within her
  the countless yeses instead of no’s
  retarded actions, she didn’t know better
  her past self shouldn’t have let her take another sip
  on some chug, chug, chug tip
  for a temporary high
  and a bitch of a hangover
  to her going undercover…
  
  she feels her spirit breaking within her
  the pieces pierce and scrape her insides
  burnt,
  bruised,
  broked,
  beaten,
  battered
  she muffles her wails to listen to her soul
  she is hurting too
  her vessel,
  her home,
  defiled,
  defaced,
  discarded
  and now,
  widely being discussed…
  
  by all the men who call her whore
  the ones who held her tight and spent the night
  the ones who grabbed her hips and kissed her lips
  the ones who never called and never stalled…
  to leave in the morning
  her soul is in mourning
  
  
  she feels her spirit breaking within her
  silent cries, internal protests…
  they don’t really know me
  what I’m about, who I want to be…

• tragic love

  Posted: May 7, 2010, 2:12 am by kahawamoto

  I've been thinking about love a lot lately. Or whatever passes as love these days. A friend of mine calls it 'sex blindness'. Hahaha. Kinda makes sense though. Sex makes people go blind and stupid.
  It got me wondering, what ever happened to tragic love? That intense, chest ripping love. The love that made men go to war to protect their women, the kind of love that dude in the bible felt, the one who worked for years so that he could get the girl. Her name was what? Rachel? Ruth? I forget... And how he said that it didn't feel like it was that long, because the love was so strong. That Romeo and Julliet kind of love, the whole stabbing and poisoning, not that i advocate suicide, but you get my point.
  
  Will we get to experience that in our generation? Or have things been toned down a little. is it because the obstacles we face now seem minor? An annoying in law, an empty wallet, a suggestive tweet, an incriminating picture on facebook, a drunk dial...
  All that seems to be going on now is relationships with aspects of unfaithfulness, fuck buddies, failing marriages, one night stands and pointless flings. Not that i'm condemning, or judging, but where is that real love?
  
  'Make you feel my love' by Adele is playing. My iTunes is mocking me. the song's about how there's nothing that she wouldn't do to make him feel her love. she get's it. THAT kind of love. Where is it? Look for the song!
  
  ION (In Other News) for you anit-abbrev. peoples, i wrote this piece last night, actually it was early this morning after chatting with a girl of mine about boys and things. She said something in passing that made me realize something. Thanks Shaz!
  
  
  there is no such thing as perfection,
  but your imperfections are perfect
  your dark skin and small oracle eyes
  the way you said you loved my thighs
  the man from whose rib i was formed
  you are my brother soul
  to be without you, an equation that would solve itself in death
  for there is no me without you, you are my breath
  i lay on you, chest against chest
  i know i love you, no uncertainty, no doubt
  i know i love you, no uncertainty, no douby
  
  i put my ear on your chest and hear your heart beat . . . . . . .
  i realize i am truly blessed, and i am truly grateful
  grateful for the heart,
  that pumps blood to the veins,
  that goes through the flesh,
  that houses the spirit,
  that I love.
  
  you have me in total surrender
  my white panties waving high in the air
  i want to go away with you, and drown in your essence
  to disappear in the gap, between your arms and chest
  i am yours, future baby daddy
  yours to love, if you will have me.
  
  you fill me with your love, grounding me. But i am floating on air simultaneously...
  i would write a letter to my past self
  tell her not to change a thing
  that she would find a man sooner than later,
  that you would come along and change her forever
  
  this is how i feel now, when i think of you
  when my mind drifts to the past, that was just me and you
  and wonders how you and me would be, if we were 'we' today
  whether i would love you, in the same intense way
  sadly, i know not who you are, what you're about, or the man you've become
  in my memories, you are still perfection
  but now i'm grown, i know better,
  what remains now, a diminishing addiction.
  
  
  Peace and Love my good people.
  Have a lovely weekend.

Blah blah blah

Fish cakes

Alas a fish cake.

Yet more fish cakes

Guess what ... yeah ... fish cakes.

The end of the fish cakes