The last...with each drop of my pain!

To you this is just a post,

But to me it's more than that,

I carry this hurt to my bed,

To the point I swear in texts,

Which I never do,

I carry this hurt to my bed,

And I unleash it on unsuspecting things,

The phone I bang on the table,

The shoes I kick out of my feet,

The smile I can't access for those I love,

I carry the hurt you give me to my bed,

Where I spend most of the time of my life,

Instead of peace,

My body shakes in pain,

If you have seen it shake in pleasure,

Imagine the reverse,
Then you will realize,
How much I hide from you,
I cry with every word I write,
You have ups and downs,
But mine are ups up to euphoria,
And down more frustrating than hell,
So when I feel jealous is sticks with me like a cancer,
It never really comes off,
To you it's something that you just use to gauge,
Whether a guy really loves you or not,
You wanted another post about you,
There you have it,
But as you enjoy it,
Don't forget the tears that come with it,
Have those ones too,

Take them right from my eyes,

As they drop,
Each drop of my pain,
I feel used.

Why I Didn't Go Out Last Weekend

The gate slid open,
The guards stood at attention,
In their very neat uniform,
Their perfectly blue and white logo,
Very white white,
They should, cause the invoice they send,
They should not just wash their uniform,
But dry clean them,
And even I don't dry clean my clothes,
At least not all of them,
I think it has red too,
The logo I mean,
Red white blue and white,
Neat,
All in all it was safe,
That's how we live now,
Always prepared to fight,
But that is here nor there,
The house was empty,
And my blood was flowing,
Not upwards where my intellect is,
But downwards where my pleasure nerves are,
I locked the door,
And almost silenced my phone,
The curtains were closed,
The sofas were missing,
At least some of them,
We took some to another place,
The curtains were still as red as the carpet,
And were all velvet just like the light from the chandelier,
That reflects that golden bulb ray like diamonds,
But more calm cause that's how elegant sitting rooms are,
She spread a kiss on my lip,
It was a bit short though,
Mostly cause she has a boyfriend,
But I wasn't the one cheating right?
I try to convince myself,
There is something about a hot girl,
On her knees between your legs,
That makes you squeeze the pillows,
To the seats you seat on as she does her thing,
That thing that makes her hair jump up and down,
And when she stares at you holding what she holds,
While it is wet, slidy and slimy,
She pushed me on the sofa,
And she sat on me,
So that her bosom banged my face,
And I didn't mind seeing all of her,
Jump up and down in almost a scream,
Until I grabbed her ass,
Squeezed it tighter than usual,
Sunk my face in her bosom,
I felt it naked though she was clothed,
At that point I knew I would,
And is was then I grabbed her,
In sort of a body language,
To assure her it was enough,
I was there,
I was splashing like a fire fighting pipe,
With that much force,
That is the only way I could shut down the fire,
That burned in me,
My muscle relaxed,
And I moaned,
And she was proud,
I could see her eyes,
I did some other things,
That were not related to her,
Those things required me to have my belt tied,
My trousers up,
And my face straight,
I came back,
After I was done,
Doing those things I can't talk about,
Found her with her head phones on,
Dancing in nothing but her shirt,
Her very stylish shirt,
With my favorite bottom for her on,
Nothing,
Hehe,
I was just a man about it,
Belt down,
Which man could resist that scene,
As if my day was done,
I found myself somewhere else,
Somewhere not exactly in town,
But I was in town yes,
And it rained like luck,
Heavily I am sure farmers were out dancing,
Only that the rain might have hurt them,
They had those small ice cube rocks,
I don't know their name so well,
But they come from the skies,
Hail stones I think,
Its like the indicator went on by itself,
It told me to stop,
Right there in town,
And like a good motorist,
I followed the direction of my indicator,
Cause the indicator in my shorts,
Also wanted me to stop,
After half a bottle of black ice,
Indicators go on by themselves,
The car's and the one in my shorts,
She was laughing,
giggling,
She wasn't drank though,
But the things she did later,
You would think she was as high as jonny,
Yes jonny walker,
That guy is always on alcohol,
She kept on screaming,
'it is in town! It is in town...'
And I let the wiper drive of water,
From the wind screen so that it was clear,
But it wasn't,
In such rain all you can see is rain,
She went with another line,
After I had convinced her,
We were as hidden as treasure deep in water,
Deep in an ocean,
She looked for another excuse,
An escape of lollipop,
'you are crazy... You are crazy...'
She laughed and giggled,
And I placed a kiss on her lips,
A closed mouth one,
Like I had at the hotel we had had a drink at,
Which has the most awesome samosas,
Besides it was the second day we meet,
So closed lips please we agreed,
Without saying it loud,
It never happened in town,
The indicator in my shorts went off,
And the indicator in the car went on,
But it was to the left to the left,
Like beyounces old hit song,
Back on the road,
Trying to make the heater point towards my heart,
To heat it up,
Though the hand she had let,
Go through her thighs though,
She was in her jeans,
Made me recover from my wounded ego,
My ego fully recovered,
When I found myself out of town,
In the proper country,
Where there were more plantations than houses,
Oh that almost doctor lives far,
It was my first time to watch a girl pee,
It was almost disgusting except for,
I could see the thrill in her eyes,
And that thrill was thrill larger than,
A funny laughter which is always contagious,
And that she had a nice curvy ass helped,
That is why and how I didn't get disgusted,
My ego completely recovered,
When I felt myself care no more,
Of the cars that were passing by,
Close to the bush we had parked at,
Her legs were up and her jeans were half sagged,
She told me if it didn't reach shauri yangu,
We would have to do it another day,
I have never been proud of my biology,
I felt like the sun feels,
When it is about to set,
Soft rays,
Like the soft ass she has,
I grabbed softly,
And cum softly,
I have never cum softly,
Have you ever cum softly and completely?
But maybe it's cause she is a doctor,
An almost doctor,
She knows what she did,
To make me feel like that,
After the after glow wore off,
The fuel gauge went on,
On that road as deserted as a diseased man,
That cut through hills and curved and circled,
With hills and valleys every where,
I was worried,
I needed to fuel,
But their were more plantations than man made structure,
The closest I could get to a fueling station was a river,
I was over a hundred minutes from home,
And she was home,
I had cum,
But it was getting dark,
And the motorbikes that roamed the roads,
At that time,
Looked like the kind,
That made a career out of,
Fighting the neatly-dresses-guards with large invoices,
I fueled at a place,
That could have been a river anyways,
I could almost use a blue-band tin,
To fetch petrol,
And pour it into the car tank,
The shop attendant looked like a civilian anyways,
With a white rain coat,
I guess it was just incase it rains,
In that roof-less petrol station,
As I dropped her off,
I asked her for the name of the station,
And we both laughed,
Cause it was a laughable place,
If my fuel gauge didn't look encouraging,
After fetching fuel from that place,
I would have sworn it was dream,
We would have sworn it was a dream,
I hugged her goodbye,
And prayed I wouldn't hug my life goodbye,
I was in the wilderness,
And I was to drive back alone,
On a deserted road,
With a history of brave car jackers,
I tried to drive fast,
Seeing her fade away in the rare mirror,
So that I was alone,
With a very long road to eat up,
And in my process of eating it up,
I anticipated a road block with nails,
That would puncture my tires,
Like nails hidden in a ham burger,
That you eat up blindly in haste,
Only to puncture your tongue,
And cause you to bleed to death,
Dead before you know it,
I knew there was that possibility,
As I ate up the road in haste,
It got darker,
Therefore scarier,
And I knew something bad would happen,
But I didn't know what yet,
If you were friends with my blackberry you would know,
It eats up it's battery like it does airtime,
I let lil waynes song play,
Motivation,
I needed the company,
Even though I knew,
I was wasting my battery,
The last sticks of charge on my phone,
That I would need to use to call emergency,
On that sound track,
Instead of using it,
To save my life,
Cause paranoia had set in,
Like the darkness had wholly set on,
I could see matatus flash lights at me,
Parked at the road side,
As if to warn me,
That we should travel together,
Cause that road is unsafe,
Or rather to tell me,
That they had stopped where they were,
To wait for sun rise,
Before they travelled,
Either way,
I knew I had to run,
So I pushed down the fuel gauge,
With such pressure,
I could swear I fueled the engine with my heart,
It was also as if I could feel the paddle shake,
Not like in a rackety car,
But in a well composed car,
With a bass sound for the engine,
And turbo that sounded like a plane,
I felt the paddle vibrate on my foot,
I can swear it is from the way,
The fuel released rushed to the engine,
As unstoppable as cum,
Only option would be to withdraw the pedal,
For the car to stop,
Like withdrawal happens,
For those who decide it bad to use latex,
Like you can trust anyone this days,
I was on the road,
And I couldn't trust the road with my life,
Like I don't trust not to wear a Jimmy hat,
I knew the road was smooth,
So I could glide as fast as a vampire,
But I knew some parts had big potholes,
Almost as deep as wells,
Right in the middle of the road,
So as I drove there was the possibility,
That at the speed I was I would get a tire burst,
And then I would be in the wilderness,
Alone for thieves to feed on,
Alone in the cold trying to change a wheel,
Which I still do not know how to do,
The moon light was off anyways,
And my battery was dying as the song played,
So the screen wouldn't torch light on the wheel,
I would have to change if I continued to drive at that speed,
So I slowed down down low,
Like my hopes of getting hopes did,
Like to match the slow motion of a tragedy,
I couldn't see the road well,
My eyes couldn't see a future for me,
My eyes couldn't see the road well,
I should have gotten new contact lenses fitted,
I started to think of how and end to me shall be,
They would find me in an abandoned car perhaps,
With a lot of used rubber in my bag,
This time I didn't drop it on the high way,
Like I did on the post 'let it weekend',
The thugs might steal my I pad,
And the phones in the bag that were off,
And evidence would show I had woman fluids on my pants,
And the whole world would know,
I haven't been such a good boy,
I wished for this blog not to be so famous,
But just famous enough,
Every writer is exposed,
That's why you can never reveal too much,
And continue to tell the world,
That all this might be fiction,
I anticipated something bad would happen,
Until I saw a police car,
Overtake me at neck break speed,
And a pick up track chased after it,
And I felt safe,
I would follow it like men follow big asses,
Till the end,
Till I was home and safe,
So I followed,
I kept up easily,
At least I didn't have to look at the road,
If there was a pot hole the car ahead would break-light,
if there were nails on the road,
The police car tires ahead will use them,
We moved fast,
Curving right and left on the curvy road,
The break lights went on and off,
I even meet a car on the road,
That was so old,
It was confused,
Every time the guy pressed the break,
The red lights went all off,
Except for the number plate illumination bulb,
Then the red lights went on after he accelerated away,
I swear I am not imagining things,
It was as real as the roof-less gas station before,
And when I got home,
In finality,
I was happy,
I was safe,
It was raining,
I leaned on the rained wet car,
To wet the white on my zip area,
So that it would dissolve,
And I could walk into the house,
Like I was just from the club,
With my tennis instructor,
I am glad that the worst thing,
That happened,
That night,
Was that I got a dent on the wheel,
Which didn't mature into a tire burst,
I must replace my contact lenses,
But I am glad,
Those two girls,
Made my day,
I must say,
I am the luckiest guy alive,
And I almost love one,
or rather almost loved one,
Or once loved one,
But that is a secret,
I will never tell,
And that is why I didn't go out,
Last weekend,
I was too tired to,
As you can tell!

Letter To My 32 Year Old Self

Hi thirty two year old me,
You made it this far,
It's almost your birthday,
Who is that girl sunk in your mirror?
The mirror you standing before,
As you wear your tie,
The girl sunk in your bedsheets?
Calling you back to bed with her,
Is she the girl who is organizing your party?
You have done well for yourself thirty year old me,
She is really hot,
I bet she is a news anchor,
Are those your car keys on the table?
The SLR Mercedes ones?
And whose keys are those next to them?
The BMW ones?
I hope part of the bunch belongs to that naked girl,
In your bed,
They must not both belong to you,
Cause that would almost mean you do illegal stuff,
Or you are carless enough to drive two luxuries,
Instead of swelling up a few trust fund accounts,
For the seed still unfertilized in your grapes,
It can't be depressing reading this,
When I am thirty something,
Cause I wrote myself something like this,
Back then when I started high school,
I think I had my bipolar depression the beginning of it,
And I have my grades to totally prove it,
And much more than that,
It kept me sane imagining future me right now,
In law school,
Throwing pent house parties for my birthday,
With hotel room service at the door step,
With large shower sprays and multiple shower heads,
In almost completely glass walled and glass-doored orgy showers,
pent house suits with plasma screens,
And martini glasses on the table the morning after,
With the best friend the ones I cherished most,
And my un-attending best friend sending me a really old bottle,
Of the smoothest tasting vodka coming almost with a manual,
I dreamed of such things,
I hoped for things such as a philanthropic heart,
That I could actually be able to boost that I have been to,
Children's homes all around the country,
With a boot filled with love for the needy,
When offloaded sends of smiles to every child that is needly crying,
Crowded in circles next to the off-loading car,
Ask the girl I was with,
Some dates I dragged her to places as such,
You should totally fall in love with me? Lol
So when I write my thirty two year old self this,
I am brave cause now I know I am in manic mood,
And I feel more intelligent than Michael Scofield was,
If you'd look at my diary you would know,
The utopia I experience right now boarders very closely on insanity,
Just like it did years back,
But my disease is what is going to make me,
Look myself in the mirror and smile at me,
Though even then I will not be able to tie my tie as well,
I will look at the mirror and smile at me,
And the girl in the back ground,
Who gives head for days,
Who wants to change the world like I do,
Who will stick around when the cycles of unproductively starts,
Though I am preparing for them,
Now that I know what they are and how they come,
I know she will care for me when I am purposeless,
Hide my credit cards when about to make bad judgements then,
Sex my balls dry when I start to seem to want to look,
For purpose in the legs of another girl,
But I will not cause I would love her,
She is nothing I can work on like the houses,
The cars and the watches,
The shoes and the leather couches,
The golf swings and the club memberships,
The careers advancement and the business skills,
The parties for philanthropy,
The well-travelled personality,
She is just something that I hope for and pray for,
Friends you can find easier and maintain relationship simpler,
It is hard but simple in ways,
Don't people make friends all the time?
But love looks and seems like a thing out of my control,
It's all in the power of Cupid who was not so jazzed when he saw,
I have a photo of him stabbed in the post 'valentines the 13th',
But next time he should know better and send me true love,
Then I will post a better photo of him on this blog,
To my 32 year old self,
I promise,
I will do all I can to ensure you enjoy yourself,
And the others that will be around you,
Like my almost 16 year old self ensured I enjoyed,
My 20 year old self when my folks discussed me,
And how proud they have been of me,
As we sat randomly at that table we always sit on at the club,
When everyone is always wearing something blue,
My dad in his navy blue velvet jacket,
That is from the same fabric as my mum's except for shape and structure,
And me in my navy blue khaki trousers,
Still unable to wear socks with loafers,
To my 32 year old self,
Enjoy your birthday party,
I hope a plate costs a fortune,
And the guest list are of loose wallets,
So that all the proceeds go to some needy fellows,
And remember to propose to her,
On her birthday to,
Cause it is that year you start applying,
To the best of schools,
Who else is afraid of writing this letter?
Thinking it might depress them more than impress them?
Only lions can rule the leafy jungle,
Only lions can be brave!
Who will rule this concrete jungle?
Only the brave enough,
Only the brave enough,
Cupid?
Be nice this time,
Time is against you,
We have planes now,
Even rockets for space,
Don't let me down,
I know where to find you.

The incompleteness of this post and everything

I cannot settle for half love,
You can and I can tell you why,
I cannot settle for half work,
You can and I know why,
I am always a cycle away,
To my death,
That is what the internet tells me,
So today I will run as fast,
To everything that will let me survive,
Cause I know a time will come,
When I will be helpless,
Purposeless,
I feel it sometimes though,
I feel it most times,
The moments when I lock myself up,
In my room,
Unable to pick the phone,
Cause when I pick it,
Question is always,
Why do you feel so low,
Are you from sleeping,
My moments of depression,
But that I can handle,
For right now,
I feel more energy than weakness,
But I know a time will come,
When I will be weak,
If the cycle is true,
It will come,
Like it came when I was young,
Purposeless and suicidal,
They say that even this writing is a disease,
The creativity and the ideas I have,
The wit,
It will go,
For a while,



She called me today over lunch,
Her voice sounded different,
I even had to inquire if it was really her,
Her voice sounded decisive,
And I could almost feel a tear in it,
I think she is of a made-up mind,
Even after 'my dying blog',
She is leaving now for sure,
Mostly cause I asked her to be,
Permanent on the decisions she makes,
If she want me out of her life,
Let her go and not come back,
I do not want that turmoil,
Where she serves as the stimuli,
To question my existence?
The moments where my floor becomes messier,
I empty my bin less frequently,
I start loving very sad rock songs,
And I try to force them on the girls I meet,
Who do not respond to them,
I don't want to start missing classes,
Like I did when I was other schools,
Of getting depressed then later,
I find that it was all for nothing,
Cause she comes back eventually,
After I start to want live without her,
I feel a tear forming right now,
I feel my eyes getting warm,
Like clouds do when it's about to rain,
But the rain is always as cold,
As a broken heart,
And when it rains you want to go home,
I write really badly sometimes,
Sometimes I can't get myself out of my bed,
I feel so purposeless worthless and useless,
But these are things I have to hide,
Cause I have to uphold my name,
I can't let her stay and go when she wants,
Though I have let her stay and go a long time,
I just can't,
The internet always tells me I have bipolar,
Episodes of manic and depression,
That my creativity and wit are a disease,
That when I have my heart broken,
It feels cut deeper than the average hurt,
That when I want someone,
And I fall in love,
It is sweeter,
I love the sweeter parts,
I cant even begin to describe how much I enjoy,
To cum,
The escapades,
The inappropriateness,
Even bad sex to me is beautiful,
It makes makes my thoughts run wild,
My ideas feel smarter,
And my idea memo fills faster,
Though sometimes I feel sluggish and witless,
That the purposelessness and the sucidalness I felt younger,
Was actually something not everyone went through,
That those years of depression are a cycle,
That I experience manic right now,
A period of creativity and light,
Ideas and love for books,
Love for life love and everything beautiful,
That I can feel the taste of coffee so intensely,
My eyes close,
I feel very successful right now,
My brain is on optimum,
But they say it is a cycle,
That depression shall come,
Then manic shall follow,
So that is why I keep my journal,
And write on it everyday,
Even though you think it is girlish,
Cause I fear that the way I felt when I was younger,
Will come back,
In the same cycle it did,
And my grades will be horrible,
I will question my existence,
My mind will be thoughtless and idea-less,
I will be purposeless,
So I got to remember to write,
So that when that time comes I will find myself,
In the words write,
I must be a good photographer,
So domt question the photos I take,
I am trying to seize moments,
Cause if the yeterdays I had,
Will come full blown like they did then,
I need them more than I need air,
More than I need love,
I need to remember that,
A time shall come,
When I shall be as bright as,
My ending primary school,
And not as depressed,
As my beginning high school,
I know she has been there for me,
But I have to put myself first,
Cause I know how it feels,
When the intensity of  hype stops,
And the intensity of depression comes,
Full blown and my concentration is lost,
And it doesn't come back like it comes often,
Like it comes now,
I need someone who will be there,
To the end,
When I can't focus like I can now,
Cause right now I feel so focused and purposed,
I feel so invincible and optimistic,
Unless at times like this when I look myself,
In my room unable to go out,
I remember when I was high,
On things I shouldn't have been on,
And I questioned everything,
The worst moments of my life,
Depression and paranoia set in,
I will never be that high again,
I remember when I get wasted,
Substances don't mix with me,
My friends do know better,
I have to have to be philanthropic now,
I have to be religious now,
I have to pray the hardest,
I will start to question all this,
When I am depressed,
Feel as purposeless as psalms,
Like I was,

Force Me To Write Better

Shhh Inhale deeper,
My eyes raises up,
From the book I read,
Mhhh inhale deeper,
Feel my lungs with that sweet scent,
Seat close to me,
Your perfume is enough,
I feel my hands want to open,
Maybe they want to hug you,
Just for your scent,
Why are you walking out of this room?
You scent will go with your presence,
I crave you will stay here for a while,
Just like I crave a good story,
Something I can write later and read,
Something as wild as,
The events of early last weekend,
When the journey leading to a destination,
Found it's destination before the destination,
Do you remember where we stopped?
The busy road-side by the high way,
Packed right beside fast moving cars,
It was as day as the sun light,
There was a bus-stop near by,
It wasn't empty it had potential passengers,
Then after some little convincing,
You gave up your rare side,
Your head between the head rest and the window,
Of the driver seat behind that seat,
On the back seat,
And your black jeans and black belt,
I pulled down a little bit,
We were mashed up on the right side of that long seat,
And you complained that the front window wasn't tinted,
Until I was in you with your black sting still on,
The g string,
You started moaning even before I was in,
Which still puzzles me,
I thought you moaned cause I was rubbing your walls,
In ways that touched your nicest spots,
Let me go with believing that you love to moan,
That's why you moaned before I was in,
Your head between the drivers head rest and the door,
My right knee folded on the back seat,
Pushing you to the right side of that seat,
Hitting your every right spots,
My left leg half standing on the car floor,
My shorts belted up but my zip undone,
Just incase a good Samaritan noticed the car,
And stopped to inquire why we've stopped,
But thanks to kenyans current culture,
No one wants to rescue a car stalled by the road,
No one wants to be caught,
Pants down and ass being spanked and squeezed,
No one wants to be caught,
No one wants to be disturbed,
Filling up rubber with his seed,
Tell me which on-coming mad man on the road,
Will stop his lorry on the high way,
Reverse it to get a better glimpse of the backseat activities,
Through the  clear windscreen he passed even if he saw,
Thanks to fast drivers,
But no thanks to the unanticipated pedestrians,
They just seemed to show up in front of the car,
Just after I had cum,
She yelled shit shit shit shit,
But she laughed in the midst of it all,
As she pulled her jeans up jumping jumping,
I guess that how girls wear tight jeans,
I did not worry,
Cause the bicycle-dragging-sleepers-wearing guy,
That was right in front of the car,
Didn't look like the kind to carry a camera phone,
Or have enough credit to call some media house,
Sometimes my phone has no credit too,
So I guess I couldn't burst myself to ktn too, Lol,
The girl walking next to him,
I am sure he fucks,
So I guess he understood,
That we were doing our thing,
Like they were about to head to their destination,
And do their thing,
But we found our destination before our destination,
And the yogurt filled with rubber found it's destination,
Right in the middle of the high way,
She screamed 'you aren't serious'
As I rolled down the window,
And let the condom drop right there in the middle of the highway,
I pressed the acceleration paddle much harder,
When she said 'I think that woman crossing saw'
We laughed and I turned the stereo louder,
I felt like a man,
Even though you refused to blow me on the way back,
Something to do with rubber or cum...
But I know we got to our destination,
Before our destination,
It really was a weekend,
I crave another story,
Someone make me feel something,
So great,
So that I write as great,
And when I come back to read this,
A year from now,
I will be as thrilled as you are,
Reading this,
Or as thrilled as i was,
when I found my destination,
Before my destination,
Someone make me feel!
I crave...

Let It Weekend...!!!

A little deprived

It is about to weekend,
Yes it's not a typo,
It's about to weekend,
Not about to rain,
It's about to weekend,
I write this in court,
Court registry rather,
Am doing my clinicals,
Better defined to non lawyers as,
Internship of some sorts,
The thing is here you are covered in files,

Or you are in files,

You would almost think you were a file,

If you aren't confident in who you are,
and on a Friday afternoon,
Files are the last things on your mind,
Especially now that the hot lawyer or is it paralegal,
That keeps on bending over to pick court files,
Is not here,
She is my role model,
Embracing her weekend,
The bend-over artist is not here,
So nothing to watch here,
But this blog and ring-ed up women,
Which is a no no,
I am still unsure how the women are here,
I haven't engaged with them much,
The motivation is low,
It's out of Nairobi so the choices are not as unlimited,
They are a bit constrained,
You remember Reebox do you?
Yes, I saw some girls,
In such with her suit,
In stead of her heels,
I would rather die horny,
I have been a little deprived,
But I am man and man gives benefit of doubt,
I am yet to be impressed,
And I am sure I will be undoubtedly,
like wine plus time never disappoints,
I have a feeling that next week,
I will have a chance to hide a boner,
Cause of all the sexy I will see,
Right from the entrance,
I have been a little deprived,
Have you been a little deprived?
Of a night-out so thrilling,
You have a story to tell,
I am a little deprived,
Of lips to kiss,
Not the lips I kiss,
Not the lips am kissing now,
But new lips or the old lips new,
I want my heart to leap off my chest,
I am abit bored about writing about my 'faster-beating-heart',
I need fresh expressions even for my blog,
My 'heart-leaping out in thrill off my chest' is a start,
I already feel exuberant inking that,
I want my heart to throb in orgasmic rhythm,
Like it does when I am in traffic from court,
I almost wish the jam lasted longer,
Cause the pedestrians here,
Make me wish I was walking too,
I am a little deprived,
That why I stare more,
I am a little deprived,
Of an ass to squeeze,
Not just any booty by the way,
One wrapped in those jeans,
That cause them to slide down an inch,
When I hug the wearer good bye,
As she bends upwards to get off the co-drivers seat,
I feel a little deprived,
Of an orgasm so stable,
I wouldn't have to drive her home,
After we are done,
I miss my apartment,
Where that freedom prevailed,
I am a little deprived,
Of spooning on the bed,
Slow shag late at night,
This quickie has become the norm,
I feel a little bit deprived,
And thats what the weekend is for,
A little thrill,
A little adventure,
So I am going to find my jeans and scarf,
I will find my boots and peacoat,
And I will run to Nakuru's Guava,
I will run to Nakuru's Enigma,
And I will re-energize my body,
With loud music and well-prepared cocktails,
I will let the weekend be with nyama choma after hang over,
I will let this weekend be with cartoon network on Saturday morning,
I am letting this weekend be,
Cause when I laugh over cappuccinos,
Burn Coldplays album,
Watch a few movies,
Visit a gazzillion of friends,
Play a little lawn tennis,
Have lunch out with the folks,
I will be smiling the whole week,
For playing hard only balances with working hard,
Wait sorry,
I meant working hard only balances with playing hard,
I have worked really hard this week,
Mostly cause I have been doing a lot nothing at these courts,
Which is hard work for me,
But thanks to MediaMadness.com,
And Facebook tweeter and BBM,
Which have kept me sane,
I feel a little deprived,
And that's what weekend is for,
I have a contact on my phone book,
That will make this weekend eventful,
I have feed my wallet over the week,
So rounds are on me,
The possibilities are endless,
Even naivasha is an option,
They have water sports there you know,
Some private club that doesn't pick my phones,
The possibilities are endless...
I need this weekend,
I deserve it,
You deserve it,
So let's get our khaki shorts off the wardrobes,
Retire our ties far from eyes range,
Wear that light sun dress,
With the inexpensive common Bata plastic shoes I like,
Even though you still wrongly think they aren't unique,
And let's have lunch by the pool,
The good chef is working on Sunday afternoon,
The one who decorates pepper steak with onion rings and tomatoes,
Let's have lunch by the pool,
Let our phones sleep on the tables,
And when lunch is done,
We will head home,
But get derailed on the way,
By an ice cream parlor,
We are yet to discover,
It is not about to rain,
It is about to weekend,
I will enjoy my weekend,
Regardless of your
Deciding to take things slow,
You should no better than,
To play hard to get,
It will weekend my dear,
I promise you that!
Let's weekend!

http://www.sailingkenya.org/spip/spip.php?rubrique46

What Is Your Squash?

Has anyone ever asked you your talent,

That thing that defines your awesomeness?

Has anyone ever asked you your talent,

And you swore you didn't know it,

You swore you didn't have one,

As strongly as you swore you never played,

Cha-mama or kati like boys swear they never did,

Swore you had no talent like girls swear,

The last time they sexed was six months,

All girls say that you know,

It's never last night like guys,

I swore the same too and still do,

Until I discovered that talent is just what makes you happy,

It doesn't have to make you Kleptomaniacs or Stan,

But it can make your booty-shaking video on YouTube the most viewed,

Talent is just what you can do better than the average person,

Not better than everyone,

Just better than the average person,

Or rather something you learn faster,

Than the average learner,

That thing that makes you feel,

Like a super star on stage,

Have you been on stage?

Just in front of people,

The nervousness,

So beautiful,

The energy,

The beauty,

So powerful,

Your legs shake,

Just enough to cause blood to run faster,

Just enough to let adrenaline swim in you more completely,

So that you feel like you are high,

Rockstars are addicted to the stage more than they are drugs,

They have sex more cause the energy you have from stage,

Immediately you make something as mere as a presentation,

The feeling is so large you walk two inches above the ground after,

You glide in the air like angels do,

As confident as a fire,

With disregard for  everything,

Everything even metal,

You even melt metal like fire does,

Disregarding kawaida rules of decorum,

Even your voice becomes louder,

Have you ever noticed?

How else would you explain Sonko's behavior?

Not that I am saying he is talented or anything,

But the flashing lights and the Cover Pages,

The fact that you exist beyond yourself,

You know the way Shakespeare has never really died,

Your heart beats like it does when you in love,

Imagine feeling like in love without a relationship?

Imagine a crowd of a million people screaming,

It's nothing like firing comments on an update,

It's nothing like compliments splashed at you publicly unexpectedly,

That feeling is what I get on a squash court,

I remember I beat my squash instructor on the first day,

Embarrassed him perfectly and thoroughly,

Slamming balls so noisy,

Racket impact,

as loud as bullets,

Slamming violently,

forming face expressions,

With little regard whether my hand will disjoin out off my body,

Provided the ball runs like a rocket am careless,

Power strokes out shadowing thunder,

Pushing your body beyond it's limits limits,

Then it's limits limits limits limits,

People stopped playing to watch us,

I was on fire,

Everyone was impressed,

They felt fire for me,

They felt happy for me,

Like you feel happy for,

Tusker Project Fame stars,

Just watching them,

Some stopped playing to watch us,

I felt like a rockstar,

A rockstar amongst rockstars,

But I didn't notice I was,

I was too much in the game to notice,

That my shorts were falling,

That eyes were burning on us,

In the end I was glad,

To discover my that I could slam,

A ball so hard on a wall,

Smash it on corners like an enraged beast,

So that it deflects at angles,

And I score,

You think you melt when your team scores,

Wait until you score,

And you are dripping beans of sweat,

You in sport shoes,

Allowed to scream,

Allowed to cry,

Talent is what,

Makes you happier,

That is the destination for,

Your pursuit for happiness.

Be celebrated,

Find your talent.

The First Person YOU Will Fire

One day,

When you will be such a C.E.O,

An M.D of a listed company,

When you will be the,

Charles Njonjo of culture,

Importing the blueblood jaguars XJ,

The Jeff koinange of news anchorage,

Also knowing everything about cigars,

Am sure he listens to refined Sauti Soul,

The Trump of real estate,

Also knowing everything about casinos,

You will discover that,

The epitome of such levels,

Comes with things a bit different,

Yet seems the same to an uncultured eye,

When suits are not got off the rack,

But tailored to fit the wearer,

Not your average suit maker,

Imagine four suits priced as a vitz,

A store studded with leather seats,

In my quest to find the perfect suit,

For my frame which is un-easy to get,

Let's just say with my frame rugby I can't play,

I searched through the city shops,

For the suits that will start my lawyering career,

I searched through the city shops,

Shops not one Donald Trump would go to,

But a pocket friendly one yet elegant still,

And as intentional as humans are,

We are unfocused at times,

Cause we are opportunistic creatures,

Intelligently getting sensibly sidelined by opportunity,

I got derailed by other nice fabrics beside suits,

An opportunity to own a sweater so neat so rare was presented,

As I went through the racks of suits like upstarts do,

I  ran upon a cable knit sweater,

If you know cricket you would know cable knit sweaters,

They are like the cigars of culture,

And they are much harder to find than jewelry is,

The shop attendant decided I was young,

And expected that I could be an accomplice,

Who would share in ripping off his boss,

To gain something extra under the table,

So he switched price tags for me,

Without my total consent,

So that I carried with me,

A cashmere sweater priced as a woolen one,

A cable knit sweater priced as socks,

And a suit price cut up to almost half,

So I actually earned in my purchase,

Since I paid peanuts for gold,

It was the shops policy to direct customers,

To a tailor after their purchase,

That's what good stores do if you didnt know,

It was on the way that the attendant asked for his cut,

I ignored him like a bad disease,

Until we got to the tailors,

Where I gave that thief-of-a-staff a hundred bob,

As opposed to the stacks of thousands he expected,

He must have thought I would give him six,

Or four from the price cut he gave me,

But I had to purnish him,

Hundred bob instead was punishment enough,

For ripping his boss,

I still feel bad about what I let get done,

I hope one day I will be brave enough,

To expose,

Such filthy acts,

Not causing an unsuspecting boss,

Losses cause of untrustworthy staff,

If I beat myself now about it,

The next time I find myself in such,

I will be angry enough,

To over react,

To even fire staff on the boss's behalf,

Even without the boss's consent!

Now wouldn't that be powerful?

My Dying Blog

This blog is useless without you,

I feel fruitless without you,

I post something and it's comment-less,

Yes I do see viewers are many,

But who knows maybe they clicked and clicked nkT,

Then got away,

I wish you were here to hate,

I wish you were here to love,

I wish you were here to read,

To tell me I will change the world in a way,

Or at least a corner of it,

I wish you were here to tell me,

That you realize that when I am hurt beyond,

The only way I recover is when I get something good out of it,

In a post scandalous enough to make me feel riskily exposed,

I know we have sexed and your sex has been the best inspiration,

That fire that burns,

The way you see me,

You see what I am trying to become,

When no one else can see it,

I wish I could give you a relationship,

But I can't my honey,

But I need you sweetie,

I am incomplete,

I will die,

This blog will die,

If you do not follow me,

Discuss post with celebrities,

Like you do on my tweeter,

@astoldbybobby,

I wish you would text me,

On what you think on Facebook,

You were the first to follow this blog,

You believed in me,

Like the other five followers do,

Even though I have thousands of viewers,

And still don't understand why I have five followers,

But math has always been hard for me,

Come back babes,

You make me laugh,

You bug me nicely,

Though sometimes I get irritated by your million missed calls,

I can't do without you,

I want to be a better writer,

I want to seize my most joyful memories,

In a form so permanent that when am sixty or eighty,

I will read feel and remember the sex we had,

At very wrong places,

I need you now,

Please come back to me,

I am not ashamed to say,

I am lost without you,

Am desperate for you,

Depression has struggled my pride,

Time has killed my pride,

My pride is at the grave,

I even put a flower on it,

That is what compels me to say,

I am desperate for you,

Kiss me back to life,

I am your sleeping handsome,

We have equal rights,

Women can be heroes too,

No sleeping beauty tonight,

Just sleeping handsome,

Kiss me to life, 

Like sleeping beauty was,

Kiss me to life,

I am desperate for you,

Kiss me to life,

I am your sleeping handsome,

Kiss me to life

Trying To Be Happy More Than I Am Sad

Everything needs to be felt,
That is what it means to be alive,
I am ready to be betrayed by her,
She can give what she calls mine to another,
I am ready to feel jealous,
When I hear fingers went in her skirt,
Under the table at some dark social spot,
I am ready to feel angry,
A sex tape of her may go round like j.k.u.a.t,
I am ready to be wasted,
Sink all the treasures I have stored for myself,
But I am not really ready for any of this,
When you find diamond it is forever,
But before you find diamond,
You will lose yourself,
Your heart,
Your mind,
Your hope,
Trust,
Tears,
True love must be somewhere,
Throwing away glasses,
When I realize they aren't diamonds,
My tears aren't wasted,
My bleeding hurt doesn't bleed for nothing.

Just Before My Third BlackBerry Experience

It all started with an alcohol stained car,

A very serious hang over that morning,

I wasn't in my bed even not in the town where I live,

The night had everything a great night should have,

I used a third a packet of durex rubbers,

If you practice safe sex you would know that is one rubber,

They come in three a pack you who practice unsafe sex,

That night had everything a man would want for a night,

It had me grab on a large ass and cum like a fire extinguisher,

Not in it but the hole right below it, That night...

had me grab the steering and do a 200kmph on Mombasa road,

Speed thrills I felt my heart pound as my adrenaline reached its peak,

It was a rich experience in pleasure and rush,

I felt simply invincible,

In the night passing street lights that looked like lines of golden fire,

I was to fast to see the street lights separated into single posts of bulbs,

The night was beautiful, 

the roads were clear,

and I ate them up hungrily,

With the roar of a monstrous engine disguised under a smoothed bonnet,

It was all that you would want in a night,

I got hit on like a model in a club,

By men and women equal the same,

Which was disgusting...

But the women it was okay,

You always get that when you have sex before you club,

Is it the same for women?

I don't think so, women should be horny when they club, 

this time it was in excess,

It is unusual to get such many advances I proud-lessly admit,

To have women pour on me drinks for attention...

Almost step on me and shove me around...

The magic that turns reactions to relations, 

It was a new experience in most ways,

I discovered rafiki's, a club of suit wearers and elegant women,

At least on that night it was,

Soft chairs and that epic cocktail anchored with ice cubes,

Floating green tango vodka,

Served with two half straws in a blue light posh bar,

I also got into a fight apparently,

Just to cream what an awesome night is about,

Tall built up men claimed to have seen me pour their beers,

They should at least have picked someone their size,

Cowards... I am half their height,

Someone should have mentioned to them,

That there are lovers and there are fighters,

I buy wine and go for dates,

I don't buy guns and go to black market,

The fight ended up badly for them mostly,

Largely cause good friends can take bullets for you,

But mostly cause luck more than talent is mostly on my side,

And most of the club was on my side,

We should have used those fifteen seconds of fame,

The display of power to seize a few skirts and dresses,

But my balls were squeezed dry from the earlier events of that night,

But sex is not always a journey to an orgasm,

Sometimes the journey is just an orgasm in itself,

Especially if you are traveling with one you want to sex,

And not one who you want for sex,

We discovered the tango 35 bottle at chandaria,

Lavington has this very unavailable treasure,

It tasted as sweet as a green apple,

And to rediscover it in a cocktail at the club that night,

Just made my night like loud likable music does yours,

I did take too large a sip,

And spilled most of it on the steering,

So that the steering was as sticky as a drunkards hands,

So that the gear matched the uncomfortableness of the steering,

I needed the interior of the car cleaned up sparkling,

So I found myself at a car wash in hurlingam,

Next to me was a girl that looked like she just walked out of,

Perhaps brookside or RVA perhaps st. Andrews,

Dressed in black and in a black range rover,

She must have liked the grey Mercedes I had brought to be washed,

Or it was the grey cashmere sweeter over my shoulders,

We smiled at each other so much,

Maybe it was the smiles and flirting,

That made us magnetic to each other,

The petro station attendants kept on staring at her,

Then staring at me,

Sharing at her,

Then staring at me,

Perhaps in was the way of the world,

To show us we would be a perfect match,

She must have known how men work,

Cause when she jumped back into her already sparkling car,

Or rather her fathers or something,

She came out with her cleavage more exposed,

Jacket completely unzipped, 

Pleasurable things advertised,

Cause I am a man and am wired to stare at shape-full yet shapeless,

Pointless but pointed things that are spelled two 'o's between 'b's,

I sent my eyes there even though she asked me not to drop them,

I know she knew I would drop my eyes regardless,

She is the kind of girl with things that make you text back,

She should be daystars universities finest star,

In her shiny black fashion forward shades,

She asked me for my bbm pin.

it has been a blackberry experience hence forth.

I can't wait to tap that.

We can try it in a range.

Then in the merc.

Wish me luck regardless,

Though with the way things are going,

I don't think I will need it much,

That was my third most exciting blackberry experience, 

The first two are stories for another post.

The Range Rovers Covered In Blood

I see you have a new car,

It's bigger than a politicians car,

It reaches it's peak faster than women do,

It orgasms to maximum speed faster than men cum,

I hear it's a very forgiving car too,

Even when you move it faster than a bullet,

Then force it to make an almost three sixty degree turn,

It forgives you by automatically breaking for you,

So that you do not over turn and roll all together to your grave,

I am glad it shines like gold,

It opens up the road while you are in traffic,

People think you are the president,

Even a kid can drive it on the highway,

Their is no way a car like that can be stopped for police checks,

No one wants to be the policeman who stops a prime minister's car?

As much as it has more airbags than your fingers,

I will frown upon it forever,

And I will tell kids you are the devil,

In directly or directly you are his angel,

Don't be afraid of the devil,

You are him yes you have become him,

For you shed human blood,

You shed human blood drop by drop,

You killed someones brother,

Someone's mother or sister,

Someone's son or untie,

Just so that you would have eight more airbags,

In your car than the average two airbags,

More shinier rims on it,

All this shiny metallic new things,

You got from the teenagers you stole,

Sold and made slaves of,

Kids are as pure as angels,

Even when they are naughty they still are as white,

I shall not attend your parties,

I shall not associate with you,

That steering you turn with is covered in human blood,

Turn left when you drive farther left so that you don't miss Hell avenue,

The seat you seat on is covered in someone's sisters blood,

That leather is what squeezed out a happy child to a crying orphan,

We are not blind anymore,

We disown you as a human being us of the human race,

When you press the water for the wipers,

Imagine them as tears wiping the eyes of a blood stained windscreen,

Even angels disown you as worth,

Get the few last minutes of glory and fame,

For we are done admiring the diamonds you have,

You are the only one who sees them as shiny as crystal,

And you keep wondering why we cry when we see them?

It because when we see them we see drops of human blood,

And human flesh dropping like chunks of meat,

Covering those blood stained diamonds.