My mind has been wandering a lot lately. Whenever I sit behind this keyboard to talk about Joel, I get lost in my thoughts. My imagination begins to overlap with reality and I start to worry over things unrelated to the task. I eventually delete everything and tuck myself to bed believing it was some sort of false labor and that tomorrow or the day after, this story will be birthed with ease. A day passes. Then another. And another and this story still won’t develop the way I have it mapped out in my head. I will be starring at this screen sipping hot lemon from my orange mug until my eyes hurt. My head aches. My thoughts racing in and out like a robbers dog. No sign of labor.
I met Joel a few weeks ago in a matatu on my way home. It was a chilly evening. The rains had flooded the streets of Nairobi causing some type of insane traffic. Whoever expects rains in January anyway! Over a hundred of us, soaked and frozen to the marrow, were scrambling for space in the fourteen seater matatu. There’s no way I was missing in the list. I sat next to this slightly lean guy with a few more of inches than Blessing Lung’aho. He looks to be in his mid-twenties. He’s black; black like the ace of spades. I am an introvert by the definition from Google. So yeah! I don’t easily socialize. He is the opposite. Also, Joel is not his real name. I didn’t get his name… rather I did not ask. I have been receiving leads for stories from more men nowadays by the way. Women! where are you? Can I get your pregnancy stories? Your break-ups? Divorce? Lose? How are you all dealing? Com’on this blog wasn’t meant to sound so chauvinistic.
See! I’m already distracted barely halfway into the first paragraph. As I type this, I am thinking about Valentine’s. I am thinking of what to get that Mubaba who makes my stomach do somersaults when his name pops up on my screen, and whatever it’s even necessary to wait till 14th. Why not do it now? I could even do it on 1st March or on 7th May, even on 10th June. And it will still mean the same; that he lights the fires over my pleasure centers. May be I should write him a poem or an open letter or even write a book with him as the main character.
As I type this, I’m thinking about my birthday that’s coming up in a month. There’s a bunch of things I would want to carry out to mark my grand entry into 3rd Floor. I would want to throw a small party. No! a big one. I would want to engage in activities that would thrill my adrenaline. I want to shift from my current residence. I want… I want… I want… and yes, my thoughts are unsettled. I can’t focus. I’m thinking, do I have to wait for my birth date to get what I want anyway? I could do it now. I could do it on 7th May or even on 17th August and still, it would mean the same anyway.
See as I type this, my eyes are hurting from the length of time I have been starring blankly at the screen. The top of my head is aching. It feels like a tight band has been placed around my head. My bladder is swollen from the much water I have gulped down up to this point. Self imposed doctors advised me hydration cures headache. Let’s see. As I type this, I am scrolling through social media convincing myself it’s one last time. Ah! looks like we will not be talking about Joel today. I am unable to focus again. Allow me to take a day of two to fill my cup, reorganize my thoughts and guard my focus.
Till next week Com’s.
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