I Am Legend

This post sounded clearer in my head this morning.

It sounded pithy. It brought out the sense of schadenfreude that had enveloped me into accepting the turn of events I felt was inevitable but continued to wish away.

Then I got to the office and buried myself in work. Now it feels simply like something I need to get out of the way and move on.

I Am Legend? Perhaps the easiest title I could have picked. It will become clearer in a moment.

So I get home yesterday. Dog tired. Had overindulged over the weekend. Monday was arduous. As I trudged towards the house, contemplating another evening of cold silences and the evil eye from mama watoto. That is who she had become. No emotion. Nothing. Trying to conjure up previously felt emotions was just hard work. Efforts at trying to do stuff together was exerting. So I settled to a mundane existence: Up, Office, Bar, Home. Repeat at will. Thus, all hue and cry (sometimes from myself) that all was not well fell on deaf ears (sometimes from myself).

The past couple of months have been nasty. False accusations. A stab in the dark to evoke emotion. Good or bad. A need to set things right met with affront, resulting in a need to inflict emotional pain as a means of perceived justice for being wronged. Squabbles left right and center. All attempts to re-set to a previous more nurturing relationship were met with hardheartedness.

Having accepted my fate to such an existence, I continued my routine. Up, Office, Bar, Home. Talking only to the kids. And as such, Monday looked to be more of the same. Until I went back home. Although calling it home is misrepresentation, last night it officially ceased to be any such things. Like a thief in the night, they sneaked off while I was at work. Gate wide open. Door wide open. House cleaned out. If I had not been there that morning I would have sworn that we had been robbed. It was 9pm. I walked about in a daze. Went to the bedroom. Opened the wardrobe and found my clothes. At least she left those. A towel. A duvet.

No soap. No toothpaste. She even took my shoes!! My shoes!! Even slippers. Save for the shoes on my feet, I have none else.

So I slept in the bathtub. Like Will Smith. I Am Legend. And it feels like those dudes in the movie who only move at night or in the dark have been trying to step out of the darkness I feel for a while. I thought I was living in a new light, keeping them at bay. The analogies were clearer in the cold light of this morning. They fade. As all things do. And as every other day, each day shall end. And another shall present itself for you to manouver through.

untaken

If there are hangouts i like. Those joints with a tent where wakanae, murimi or some guy is doing his one man guitar thing. Degrees, naive titles, descendant(s), suits and years have never peeled off my appetite for their vitroil. Local lingo style.

  I am at such a joint, and the lack of a free table means i share with a woman , around 5 yrs my senior. Cheap small talk, the usual. I actually ordered a beer for this new friend. Nothing thongy, just spanghetti talk with fake humour. The husband joins her before the beer comes. I had to signal the waiter to suspend the delivery, and possibly saved my live.
 Thiz woman is quite something. She whispers to me suggestive messages when her hazi is zoombing at his phone. She even tries to share her contacts while he is facebooking. Good old discretion pursuades me to decline. She even offers to meet me next day @ 7pm same venue. Since i dont live there, i agree but i know i wont be there. The cougar will probably settle on other prey while the husband is idling with the phone.

We are living in interesting times. Very.

Beating myself

did 1.53 today new personal best. Surprised myself with 1.54 a few weeks back and blamed it on running at sea level.

Blame today's it on Kamikaze's Dodgeball and Torn.

Kamikaze you need to find your way back to the kitchen and do new stuff.

Insomnia

I am sure at some point in this blog's career, I have mentioned a lack of sleep.

It is more pronounced nowadays.

Didn't sleep last night.

Beyond the usual thoughts of being broke, what else makes me not be able to sleep? I venture that a lack of alcohol is one of the suspects. Such a slippery slope that. If I don't drink after every two days then I will not be able to sleep on day 3? Drank on Friday. Lethargic all of Saturday. Drank on Saturday. Almost couldn't move on Sunday. Didn't drink on Sunday, but was up all day, moving about. Slept like a baby on Sunday. Still lethargic on Monday. Slept fine on Monday. Felt better on Tuesday. Played some football, exerted myself, slept quite ok on Tuesday. Wednesday was quite fine. Work was good. Left work, went home. Could not sleep!

Thursday will be a long day.

Does the wife's incessant talking about nonsense count towards my discomfiture? A nattering woman, going on and on about what she ate or didn't eat, who said what, who did what, asking questions that she already knows the answer to, seeking confirmation on some idempotent actions she knows she should have done ages ago...

Aaaah. For another post.

Ele

Yaani this blog still exists? Ajamaa, where are you? You sound like you are in some cubicle. I hope you get visitors. Of the female kind. I had forgotten about this outlet. I shall visit more often. The blog, not you Ajamaa.

youtube videso

been spending a lot of time on youtube listening/watching music videos. It aint easy being a student and spending my evenings in my room with good WiFi gives me time to play online. Am listening to

eminem superman
jay z make the song cry
kanye west heartless
justin timberlake cry me a river
isley brothers busted
isley brother contagious
rihana unfaithful
dre b** aint sh*t

Are you a programmer?

During a meeting a with a client this afternoon.
Client: are you a programmer

Me: no. why?

Client: Why are you using notepad?

Me: LoL

I maintain a to do list on notepad. Started doing that many years ago since it was a very light application that never crashes.

My cold is back again. Stress must have reduced my immunity or may be its just age.

Weight problem, sleep and recurring cold

I am struggling with my weight like Robbie Fowler. I have put on 5 kgs in the course of the year. I blame it on school. Because of school I don't run on Saturday's anymore. Because of school I have not run a marathon all year. Because of school I have spent 7 weeks in a hotel in the course of the year and over indulged. What if I cant shed it off like Robbie Fowler? I should find a mountain before year end. That always takes off at least 5 kgs. Or maybe I should just forget about until I finish school then deal with it.

9 years ago I used to sleep between 11pm and midnight. I could watch Champions league matches and still have a productive day at work. Not anymore. If I sleep past 11 I struggle all day next day. If I sleep past 1am I struggle for 2 days. I dont even bother starting to watch a mid-week match. Last season, the only Champions league match I watched was the final. Even on weekends I struggle to stay up past 11. To add insult onto injury I can sleep past 7 am. Even when I have no intention of waking up early, I find myself awake at between 6.30 am and 7am. How sad it is that I have lost control of my body and sleep patterns.

I had a cold last week and took some time off work to recuperate. It was over by Friday but returned on Tuesday this week. Mambo gani hii!

I made em polish their hair

So on Tuesday morning I saw a guy brushing his hair with the shoe brush provided by the gym. I always thought it was a shoe brush because it looks like one. With the benefit of hindsight I should have suspected something was wrong with a shoe brush placed on the same shelf as the vaseline, ear buds and soap.

I hope they would put up a sign to warn people. Guys who go to the gym in the morning could be using the hair brush as a shoe brush while those who come in the evening could be using the shoe brush as a hair brush. I would hate to be responsible for making someone polish their hair so I am not going to use the brush on my shoes and definitely not on my hair.

Dance

So it's taken me a while to get used to. Only recently did I start hearing what the current state-of-the-art music is like. And like most phases of music, everything has a similar sound. Remember "computer love...computer..puter..". Heck. It can't be reproduced in written word.

Anyway. Everything is dance now. Dance, of course, isn't new. The best thing about it is that it's not crank, if that is still around. It's different. To be fair, it's always been. I never listened to much dance, house, garage, trance etc back in the day. Apart from the sets they played in maddie. Is maddie still open?

But it is what it is. Until something else comes into fashion. Maybe the TPF guys should abandon attempts at singing, and get some computer love.

How's that

Those beetle-like creatures. Which emerge from mangoes. How does that work.

Odd

Just handed in my resignation letter. It hasn't been accepted. This is an odd feeling.

Hate

So it seems the main feature of Euro 2012 will be racism. What will they do when Balotelli walks off, I wonder. Oh boy.

What Liverpool needs

I wanted to write some time back about "what Daglish needs", but. Yo! Where were these current owners when Benitez was doing all sorts of crazy things... and being awarded new contracts.

When Daglish came in, I was thinking to myself. All he needs to do is buy 2 central defenders. That's all. He did buy 2 guys straight away, but they ended up being strikers. Oh well. I'm not a manager of a football team, so what do I know. Fast forward to present day and what do you have? The club needs 3 central defenders, a couple of midfielders and a couple of strikers. It needs a new team. Not this manager or that. A whole new team. And why, oh why, doesn't someone buy Reina and put him out of his misery.

Where are they now

I was thinking to myself the other day. What is the 21 minute chic doing these days. I've googled black-top a couple of times. Her facebook profile has a different surname on there so I assume she got married and is living happily ever after. Where are all the other women who made Introverted such an exciting place all those years ago. I wonder.

Plain Old Guy

I've indicated before how bemused I am at job postings that list an array or required skills so dazzling it makes one's head spin. I always wonder to myself if such people exist. And if indeed they do exist, whether this company would be able or willing to pay the amounts of money that such a guy should command. But that's just me.

When I see ads looking for gurus, I get rather disappointed because that disqualifies me. I can't call myself an expert at anything. Certainly not with a straight face. I'm not creative or innovative. I don't do nice, fancy things. I don't know too much about too many things. I am slow. I know all this. I'll gladly tell this to any employer before they think of hiring me. The trouble is, everyone is looking for a brilliant guy. There aren't too many people looking for an ordinary guy who can do ordinary things.

I wanna know your name

So we're at the pub. Guys are heading out actually. It's like 2am. Normally, these days, I'd be more than happy to be the first out the door. But as it is, I've been suffering from insomnia so I figure I might as well stick around for a bit. I'm by my lonesome on the table. Kamikaze, who's the only guy still around, is somewhere catching up with some long lost high school buddy or something.

Still, I sit. Two women take up the sits vacated by those who've gone home. Hmmmm. I sip my water. I'm terribly fatigued. What am I doing here exactly. No answer. Yet I continue to sit. DJ plays some music which people around me seem to be in to. Songs I've never heard. But if this is how people roll these days, who am I to scoff.

I get up and dance to a few tunes. More like move ever so gently from side to side. It's all I can muster right now. The two women across me look like they want to dance too. One does. The other contemplates. Ten minutes later. The contemplator gets up and moves to the space near where I'm still pretending to dance. It's the only space available. My spirits are raised. I've been eyeing her all the time she's been sitting there. She has some kind of quiet beauty. She knows she's attractive. Now she's showing off her moves. 1 foot away from me.

I generally don't foist myself on a chic who's dancing by herself. I let her be. If I move close to her and she doesn't turn around and run for the exit, then we can dance. She stays put. Baaas. Now we can get it on. I can't remember the last time I danced with someone. Seeing a chic enjoy herself. There's no better feeling. Lasted all of 5 mins. She went back to her seat. I went back to my water. It would be nice to know her name. Right now, it would also be futile. I'm a socially withdrawn herbivore. Yeah. How's that for a label.

Tombstone

Its difficult to understand what mindset a guy has to be in to kill themselves. Just maybe its a form of surrender to whatever big problem the guy is facing, a problem he cant go over, cant go thru or cant go a round it, total surrender. Or maybe its a form of rebellion, the very last and only thing he can do to say that yes my problems are crazy but i'm getting out on my own terms and there is nothing anyone is going to do about it. I dont know where in between those extremes i am at but i'm there, only solution is cut off my head, pull the damn trigger, jump infront of a train, hell, it doesnt matter how as long as i die coz life as i know it has taken a dramatic turn. People listening to my thoughts,people who really shouldnt be, makes me feel hounded, my last line of defense has been breached, i'm naked, exposed and cant do anything about. Losing your freedom to be or do what is natural coz some cop types are on your ass is no way to live, I need to be free from that, unfortunately wont happen if i'm alive coz those 'evil' forces are everywhere...cant see them but i know they are there. No choice guys, gotta do it now.
Recalled the movie matrix, in the computer world- which is where we are everyday, agent smith is un marchable, cant even scratch the guy. Even morpheous was captured and tortured by agent smith and his guys. Introverted has been like my real world, no pretense, life in 3D. Morpheous and his team took extra precautions to keep the location of the ship a secret as they called it home, sanctuary. It was unimaginable what would happen if agent smith got to their ship, annihilation! Agent smith has got to my ship and i'm no Neo or morpheous to stop him, cant live like those human 'batteries' in the matrix being controlled by machines, i'd rather do it to myself. 0.5-i know understand, kamikaze- you could write something real on my tombstone, sam-voice of reason, ajamaa-u know how to adjust with the times, i couldn't. See you in the after life. If you dont see any new posts, u will know there is no internet in the afterlife or people dont have fingers to type. Peace