I am not equipped to handle you in your current state

Sunday morning

Babe: “Hey, babe! Do you want to watch Spiderman tomorrow morning?”

Me: “Yes, I would love to. It will be a nice way to spend my last day on holiday before getting back to work”

Monday morning

I am awake by 7 am. I start preparing at a snail’s pace. The movie starts at 10 am so I should be out of the house by 9 am. I check on him via text and he responds confirming the date.

I make it to the mall in time. I carried Machiavelli’s The Prince so I could keep myself busy in case I got there before him. He showed up a few minutes after me so I was only able to read a few sentences which I would have to reread when I get back home because I notice that there is too much in my head and I feel sad yet I do not know why.

As soon as I see him, I smile then stand up to meet him halfway and hug him as he plants a little kiss on my lips. We walk to the counter to buy our tickets, hot dogs, popcorn and fizzy drinks. I notice that I did not carry my 3D glasses. I ask the cashier how much a pair costs. My babe tells me to hold up a bit because he might have carried two pairs of glasses. He checks his bag just to realize that he carried 0.

“Babe, will you also get me a pair?” He asks and I agree to get him a pair. I get my debit card and give it to the cashier. He charges my card, I key in my pin and take my card, the 3D glasses that I just bought and my receipt. I look at my receipt and I see the cashier has charged everything on my card, the tickets, food and glasses. At this point, my babe starts walking away from the counter and cancels the mobile money payment process that he had begun on his phone.

I follow babe and we sit as we wait for our movie to start in about 15 minutes. I notice that he is a lot more touchy and keeps telling me how much he loves me. He said more “I love you”s in 15 minutes than he ever has in a week (I have to make it clear that this is not hyperbole). My biggest concern right now is “why don’t I want to tell him that I love him back?” and is this normal to him given that I always tell him that I love him back???

After the movie, we go to his place to have lunch. He tries getting me naked but I am not into it so we settle for cuddling. He asks me to spend the night and I tell him that I can’t because I have to be in the office quite early the next day. Our food is delivered. We get out of bed, and he helps me dress up and recognises my depressed demeanour which I stupidly apologise for and was immediately disgusted with myself for doing it.

While having lunch, I ask him about traffic and what time would be great for me to go home if I did not want to deal with traffic. He mentions that 4 pm and 8 pm are the best times. I choose 8 pm because I generally prefer darkness. That was when he said, “I think you should leave right now because I am not equipped to handle you in your current state.”

I left indeed…..I left physically, mentally, emotionally, psychologically, spiritually and sexually.

It all went downhill after “sploosh! frothy loins”

Tinder might be a great way for me to talk to people other than the two constant friends I have in my life. I sign up and upload pictures of my beautiful face that I consider cool. I pay for a subscription because I am curious with regards to knowing who has swiped me right. They might just be my type of weird.

After a few days of swiping, I match with Michael. He does not have a picture of himself, but I did like the artwork that he used in place of his face.

The first thing he said to me was “From your taste in music, I can already tell that I will like you”. This intrigues me immediately because he is the second human I have met who knows the names Thomas Bergesen, Brian Tyler, Hans Zimmer, Soundcritters, Two Steps from Hell, Efisio Cross, Alan Silvestri, Steve Jablonsky etc. I am glad to have connected my Spotify to tinder.

We talk about music from the movies that we enjoy. He spoke about nostalgic ecstasy in reference to his listening to music that used to be his favourite at some point. I borrowed the phrase “nostalgic ecstasy” and renamed one of my playlists from “nostalgia” to “nostalgic ecstasy”. This is a list of songs that I listened to at some point in my life and drained the songs off all their neurotransmitters.

We chat about Christopher Nolan, reading, and writing. We talk about my blog Kyllan and Chebet, I share the link with him, he asks to be included in my adventures with Kyllan and Konan. I agree and draft a story that introduces Michael to the family.

He once called me “my fair maiden” and I stupidly responded to that with “sploosh! frothy loins”. At this point, he debates whether to be quaint and proper or unleash his wildest fantasies on me. He chose to go with the latter. It was at this point that I realised I had fucked up.

So, I did what I always do whenever I freak out. I deleted tinder and moved on with my life and made peace with speaking to only 3 people: my two friends and me.

A few days later, I get a comment on the blog post that introduced Michael to the family. The comment was of concern. He was afraid that he might have lost me and he included his email address where I could reach him.

I reached out via email and we exchanged numbers. The ensuing days included an exchange of messages that had me permanently horny and smiling. This dude whose face I had never seen was stirring up emotions in me that I had not felt in a very long time. He asked if he could invite me to go work in his offices on one of the days that I would be working from home. We had to cancel this because my country had elections around that time and we have a history of post-election violence. Safety was key.

A few days after the elections and everything looked peaceful, he had a free afternoon and asked if we could hang out. I tell him that I was working from a restaurant and that he can come to join me there and we can have coffee. I was not as excited about this as I thought I should be. After telling him to join me at the restaurant, he responds “I was thinking more of cuddles and watching movies at your place.”

My vagina has never dried up so fast. I responded with a single “NO”. I then proceeded to delete his number and do some research on him. Our lovely Michael is actually called Victor and he doesn’t look like the kind of dude I would be attracted to if only looks is what we were going for. I quickly deleted the blog post that introduced Michael to the family and deleted all our correspondence (emails and text messages). My mind went on overdrive. Did he think that I was going to allow a strange man into my bed, all over my space and touching my skin? What if he cuddles me to death? What if he is a petty thief? He could be a serial killer. He must be a whore to think that it was okay for him to suggest that. He probably has a lot of unprotected sex. Eww! I am disgusted just thinking about it.

He sent a message a few days later apologizing for thinking that it was okay to want to come to my house just like that. He also asked if our relationship was damaged beyond repair. I responded with a single “YES”. He then sent an essay which basically was another apology, him saying that it was a privilege knowing me, that he is mad at himself for spoiling things, that he respects me and that he will never bother me again. I didn’t respond to this one.

A few days later, he bothered me again while I was on my eighth tequila shot. I don’t remember what I said to him but he has never bothered me again. He’s since been successfully deleted from my life.

In retrospect, things went downhill after “sploosh! frothy loins”. I will not be saying that to men ever again.

Saved by a drugie

I am using drugie as a term to mean somebody that uses hard narcotics but is not an addict. Is there an official term for that? Comment if there is one.

High enough (on Absolut Vodka) that I am looking at my keyboard to make sure that I am typing the correct thing. I am a lot slower at typing than usual. I have also been confused by the fact that the font I am using has small caps “L” and caps “i” looking the same. I also just checked to make sure that I did not throw the cigarette filter/butt on my carpet. Yes, I am smoking in the house and spraying lavender air freshener afterwards because I cannot stand the smell of cigarettes when I am hangover (a condition I anticipate to have tomorrow). I am just glad that I can actually type. If this article is shit, I will delete it as soon as I wake up hoping that I will actually remember that I posted something. Hopefully, it wont become one of those posts where I delete everything midway and decide not to post (I do this a lot). I was once told that I exist in the wrong continent because of the things I write about and I think that statement affected me more than I would like to admit. Are there specific things I should aviod writing about because I am African? Currently listening to Gary Barlow’s Back For Good. This will be relevant at some point, I promise. Give me a moment to convert the song to mp3 so I can listen to it on loop using VLC player.

I got to go pee then will be back.

I am now back. Don’t you love the JLS harmonies?

My neighbour gave me something called crystals a few days ago. It was a very little portion mixed in my Tanquery gin. She gave me a quarter the crystals of what she had (she crashed them into powder first). She was very happy after taking it (about 45 minutes after taking it) and our two people party ended because she got horny and went to fuck my other neighbor, which I encouraged her to do because she asked to kiss me more that once. I said no even though I wanted to kiss her back. Not sure why I did that. She is attractive and we happen to like a lot of the same things. Food for thought, I guess.

I was talking to a religious practitioner yesterday. He told me about how most humans are okay with giving themselves to something that takes control of them. This is what I have been doing all week; drinking vodka and being in another world. Since he is a Christian pastor (I think. He is very rational compared to other religious people that I have interacted with), he specifically talked about church. He said to me that people in church give themselves to the pastor and to the worship team. I give myself to alcohol. My neighbor gives herself to crystals (I still do not know the chemical composition but I will let you know as soon as I figure that out). Do we all, every once in a while just want to give control of our lives to something other than ourselves be it religion, drugs, work etc (pick your poison)?

He (the religious practitioner) mentioned that I always excelled at being free which turned me into the villain of the family (he has known me since I was little. I have also always done what I want when I want and I avoid showing weakness as much as I can). I didn’t realize that this is what the world saw in me because I have not felt free or in control this past week. I called all my friends (5 of them) before deciding to do something drastic. I thought that if my life ended, I would be free of the suffering. I just have to stop existing and I would be okay. I ended up at my neighbour’s because I needed someone to talk to and all my friends were unavailable. Thought of ending my life but became a pussy when it got to actually doing it. I think I like living, even when I am at low points, I am happy that I still choose life :).

I am smoking again after three months of taking a break. The head rush feels different. I am not sure where my head is at. Work is perfect, I got into my dream school in London and I am getting along with most of my immediate family. So, what the fuck is wrong?

While talking to my neighbor, she hugged me and thanked me for randomly showing up at her house. She thought talking to me made her feel much better. It may sound stupid but if one person felt better because I was just there to listen, then maybe my existence is somewhat of use.

I am not getting as high as I would like to be but I guess it works for my typing. I also realise, this was my last resort because sometimes, I get a few comments that are actually uplifting. (I just looked at my ceiling and was staring right at my chandelier. If it broke, part of it would pass through my right eye and that would be a complication that I choose not to think about right now. I clearly am not courting death).

Time to chat with my demons

So, I feel like drowning myself in water. Not deep water, shallow water. I love being underwater. Shit looks so cool under here.” I wanna drown just a little. I do not want to die. I like to think that the universe still needs me alive. I just want to feel something to remind my self of my humanity. Just getting naked and pretending to drown me in water. I always feel some kind of freedom in nudity. Skinny dip underwater a little hoping that my neighbors are not at home.

I need a different environment from the real world. My reality is quickly metamorphosing into a figment of my imagination. Perhaps I’ll see things clearly if I get to that point of near death and have my life flash right before my eyes. I wonder what it is that I will see when this happens. This crappy feeling I have is driving me crazier than I am used to. I feel nothing at all and this worries me as I could be turning into a psychopath. I am finding it really hard to handle this madness. Cutting myself has not been working so far. I need something bordering on the extreme. I am kinda always crazy, it just never gets to this point. I might need a psychiatrist. This is a point where I drink the whole day and watch the extremely violent action and horror movies… I myself even know that I need help as soon as possible. Action movies are the most awesome part. The movies are even cooler to watch when I am high. I question whether it is the alcohol that is making me inebriated. It is definitely the alcohol though because I am fucking indifferent to everything else.

My life is just sad. “Do you want a drink? You can join me. I could really use a buddy right now even though I feel like I do not need one. I am starting to be a hazard to myself” Let’s go crazy together. The reason for going crazy…… I ain’t really sure. “Not sure?” “Yes yes yes.” I lack words to explain. I have no clue how I got to this point. I have this feeling. Crappy it is. I kinda like it. It’s a new one, I have never felt this one. I want it to go. I miss the normal me.

I actually regret visiting that last therapist I had. I now remember. Everything began going downhill after I visited her. I did exactly what she told me and one month later, this is me, about to drown myself. I thought to talk to a stranger who knew nothing about me would help but it just made things worse.

I should in back to handling my shit and fixing things. It works for me. It mostly involves self-destruction which is just as bad as that therapist. I wish I had everything in my life figured out. My demons just love me too much. They do not want to go away. Every once in a while I make love to my demons which are exactly what I should do.

Pretending to be okay is having a debilitating effect on me. Fuck this…… I will just walk to a random citizen and go like, “The smile on my face doesn’t mean am happy, it just means I’m way too drunk to change my expression and I would like you to slap me back to reality.”