All of my Memories Keep you Near

Today is the 7th of July and tomorrow will automatically be the 8th, on a Tuesday. Ever since we learnt how to read the calendar, we would look at the calendar and think it was amazing -close to magical, really- that if my birthday would fall on a Monday, yours would automatically fall on a Monday. And so in April we would start the countdown to our birthdays, separated by a mere month. The eve of our birthdays was more important than the birthday itself. We would be extremely giddy and excited because we thought the eve marked a gate pass to a new year, a different year. It was the youngest we would ever be, so as much as we would will it to be over already, we savoured every moment of it. Throughout the day we would constantly remind each other to be in our best behaviour.  I would -or you would, depending on whose birthday we were celebrating- casually tell you, 'Look at me and memorise me, because come tomorrow, I will be a different person.'

The next day would come, as it always does, and apart from being one year older, nothing would have changed. We didn't have birthday parties, but we were aware that it was a special day. And in a way it was special; this is the day we were born.

2005 was bound to be a special year, come the end of it, we would be through with primary school, and we were excited. We were growing up. And we knew there was a possibility that we would go our separate ways when we went to high school, so to eliminate this possibility, we applied to the same schools and hoped, by some miracle, we would go to the same school.

It was on a Friday, in March. You were not feeling well, you slept the whole lunch hour and when we were on our way home later that afternoon, you promised to see me on Monday. I did see you that Monday as promised, but not the way I had expected, I saw you lying lifeless in your coffin. Your cousin had come to tell me, and a few others, that you had passed on during the weekend and we went for the burial.

It's 9 years later, and I don't remember the exact date you passed on. I have tried so hard to remember but I can't. I have read psychological texts on how the human memory works, and maybe I have repressed the date you left me. But your birthday has stayed in my memory. Every 7th and 8th of July finds me going through all the times we shared. My birthday, however, has become just another day. I wonder if maybe you would frown at how indifferent I have become towards birthdays. I also wonder if you would approve of the young woman I have become. I wonder what type of woman you would have become.  I wonder if we would still be good friends, inseparable as it were. I wonder if I would be more open with you, because the people I call friends claim that I am very private, you knew my secrets though; the childhood secrets, but secrets all the same.

You taught me more about resilience than life has taught me. You went through so much at a young age; I don't think I ever was or ever will be half as strong as you were. Most importantly, you taught me that life is short, any day could be the last, and whatever age one is, that age is still a viable, die-able age.

The title of this post is from the song Memories by Within Temptation.

I've Learnt to Listen through Silence

I have always found silence disquieting. It makes me nervous and anxious. But I have never paused to explore that important aspect of my personality. Don't get it twisted, I am not a loud person. I hate noise. Any cacophony will quickly shift my equilibrium and throw me off balance. I am a firm believer that every moment of silence should be filled with music, with words. It is no surprise therefore that all my nocturnal engagements are always accompanied by music. I could never sit alone with my thoughts, so am always scrolling on my phone, internet meandering on my laptop and almost all the time, I find myself reading one thing or another. 

With all my talk of desiring to be  independent, it is now clear that I never even once factored in the question of silence which appears to be focal in getting to know myself. I was at my weekly yoga class last weekend and after a power yoga session, the instructor had us on the tree pose. While on this seemingly easy yet hard to maintain balance pose -which makes it one of my favourite poses- the instructor told us to just try and push a little more until we could feel that we've reached our limits, only then could we revel in the pain or discomfort, whichever, according to our perspectives. I was home alone that evening and I remembered that bit about pushing until I was out of my comfort zone. So I decided to turn off the music and stayed in the quiet silence that comes with the night.

It wasn't pretty. For the first few minutes I was tempted to check my phone for messages even though I knew no message had come. I looked at my bookshelf and was acutely aware of the books that I've bought but haven't yet read, then I looked at my laptop longingly. But the absence of the music that is always ever playing in the background was what threatened to kill me. Through all these, I tried to ask myself why is it that I find silence so eerily uncomfortable. Maybe it's because I am afraid of knowing myself on a deeper level. Maybe I am afraid that when I finally get to know myself I won't like what I am, or what I am not. But when all is said and done, this person that I am so afraid to meet is all I have.

Since that evening, I've noticed a shift in myself, the self that I know, that is. I won't say that am finally comfortable with silence, but am glad that I can push myself to stay with the discomfort. And somehow I have become more perceptive, more aware of what is around me, I listen more instead of always interrupting during a conversation, I notice the facial expressions of people, I am making eye contact with strangers, I have reduced my phone charges and most importantly am spending more time with myself, listening to myself through silence.

The title of this post is from the song Between the Lines by Sara Bareilles

Get into my Ear: A Quiet Mind by Blue October

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTT0pIcWZY4&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Someone of my acquaintance asked me why I bother telling people what I am listening to on my blog. My first instinct was to be on the defensive and told her that it's my blog I can post what I want to, I mean it is the Idiosyncratic Hedonist, there is no particular topic that is a no-no for this blog. Later I thought about it, and the main reason is that I don't have people to discuss music with. Most of the people I hang out with do not like the kind of music I listen to. So here is where I come to tell strangers what I am listening to.

And this week, what's playing on repeat is Blue October's A Quiet Mind. Maybe I should start by saying that most of Blue October's songs are not easy to listen to. Apart from maybe Calling You and Fairy Tale, most of their songs will bring someone to tears. And this makes them one of my favourite bands of all time. Don't get me wrong, I like One Direction, The Wanted, Capital Cities and Nickelback (I see you rolling your eyes) like the next girl, but it is bands like Blue October that remind me that music is more than having a producer come up with the right beats and all you have to do is come up with lyrics that you think are suitable. With Blue October, you get the feeling that they carefully came up with the lyrics, and then sang with emotion, and you are left wondering if maybe they knew you, because these are the same words that you would have come up with.

With A Quiet Mind, I have to say that they didn't disappoint. And this is why: I always feel that my life is a cacophony of different things going on at the same time. I have what the Buddhists call a monkey mind, I am bombarded with different thoughts at any given moment in time, pulling me in different directions. If you are like me, then you realise that, a quiet mind is something you do not take for granted. I will fall in love with you if you have the ability to quiet my self induced anxiety and sometimes out of this world paranoia. It shouldn't come as a surprise then that the people I fall for are almost always soft spoken, those people who seem calm and collected, even if it's just an act. At this time though, there might not be a particular person who gives me a quiet mind, and maybe that's the reason why I stay up late daily because when normal people are asleep, the hedonist in me finds peace in the dead of the night, where the cacophony in my mind meets the silence that comes with the night, that's my favourite time of day. I am at peace, all the troubles of the day having been completely forgotten.

Favourite Lyrics

I call baby up. Leave me alone.
I am in pain but I won't let you band aid my wound.
I am mad at a stage where I can't seem to handle my own.
Can't even handle my...

Still hearing voices from front...from behind. They are the reason I choose when to live...how to die...when to cast...when to reel...when to buy...when to steal...and when to fiend for the friends that taught you being inappropriate will.

Give me a quiet mind,
And I, I'll love you
You give me a quiet mind
And I, I love you
You give me a quiet mind
And I, I love you
You give me a quiet mind
And I, I love you
Until the end.

She is a Mess

Allow me to indulge your imagination as I vividly describe this woman that I have conjured up: She is that woman with a crazy sense of fashion, a unique hair style that makes her stand out in a crowd; she has 20/20 vision but  always wears geek glasses and sunglasses when the weather allows it; she works out at the gym thrice a week; she has a good job that she likes and which pays her enough and then some; she looks everyone straight in the eye when she talks to them; she drinks Barcadi in the morning till it goes to her head (I've just quoted Matchbox 20, guys); you can never miss a pack of Marlboro, a packet of gum and a bottle of water in her purse; she has several tattoos with very philosophical meanings; she is very comfortable in her own skin and sexuality; she is very sarcastic and has a wicked sense of humour. That woman, dear reader, is the woman I have always aspired to be, a bad-ass who kicks ass in every aspect of her life. I even read articles online which give tips on 'bad-assery'.

Unfortunately, we don't always get what we want. And such is life. This, instead, is what I am: I do not work out at the gym thrice a week; I do, however, attend yoga classes once a week; I am not hardcore enough to smoke cigarettes, I am addicted to coffee though, a less cooler alternative if you ask me; I do not have several tattoos, the single tattoo that I have is hidden underneath layers of clothing and is only seen by myself and the people who share my bed; I do not drink Barcadi in the morning, I am your typical beer girl; I do not have a unique or crazy hairstyle, I am looking for internships in several organizations and I do not want to be turned down on the basis of my hair; I do not have a wicked sense of humour, I think in terms of books and quote music lyrics; I do not have a place of my own, I do, however, have a room of my own in my mother's house which by the way is always in a mess (it is 'lived in' is a much better phrase to describe it); I do not have everything figured out, and this scares me shitless. In short, I am a good girl, and parts of me are just a mess; my love life, my finances, my relationships. But I have no choice but to love this messy me now as I work hard to be that bad-ass that I aspire to be.

The title of this post is from the song Dance in the Dark by Lady Gaga.

Now that we've Found Love, what are we gonna Do with it?

Ever since God was a child (translation: I don't quite remember the exact time period), I have always been cautious about the goals and dreams that I expect life would grant me. We are always told that we should set our standards high, reach for the stars and have dreams so big that they scare us. And I, just like you dear reader, am all about that life. Always optimistic, reaching for those dreams that are sometimes (most times)  inevitably elusive. And so we work hard and emulously hope that we will in the (not) foreseeable future achieve our hearts' desires.

This question of dreams and goals and resolutions has been on my mind for quite some time now. I have even had dreams about dreams, which goes to show how important this is, or rather how this is taking over even my subconscious. And my main concern is, what do we do after we have achieved our dreams? On the other hand, what do we do when our childhood dreams meet the grim realities of adulthood? And if we are lucky enough to achieve our dreams, what happens if we don't feel like we expected to feel?

It's the same thing with love - romantic love. We are always searching for that special someone that we will spend forever with. We are made to constantly feel like unfulfilled failures if we haven't found love, because apparently love is the most amazing thing anyone can have, the ultimate dream. And for those who have that comfortable-we-are-good-together kind of love are told that comfort is not enough, all we need is that head over heels, can't live without you and I will catch a grenade for you kind of love that brings goose bumps all over and makes the knees weak whenever you see your object of your affection. And that's where my question lies, after you have found this kind of love, what next? Because you can stare at your love's eyes and get lost in them for only so long before you see something else that will demand your attention. You can also get lost and lose track of time when in the company of your beloved, and in the mean time, the world does what it always does best, it goes on, unaware and indifferent to your finding love.

And so right now while still floundering in a sea of failed relationships, I can't help but wonder what I'll do with love once I find it.

The title of this post is from the song Now That We Found Love by Heavy D and the Boyz featuring Aaron Hall.

It's 2 Am and I am Still Awake

I made a conscious decision (yesterday) at 2300hrs to go to sleep. But I had a journal to write, a phone call to make and a couple of texts to reply which turned to several. An hour later and I was done with everything, so I could finally sleep, except that I couldn't. I didn't know that I would ever say this, but I wished that I had an exam tomorrow (today) because my mind was so alert I could understand astrophysics if I tried to. Nevertheless, I closed my eyes and tried  to sleep.

It's now two hours later and I have given up on sleep, you can only pretend for so long. I decided to wake up and read. But my mind has refused. So I am far too tired of counting sheep, but not tired enough to fall asleep. When everything fails, what does an insomniac do at 2 am?

I try to think about Kenya, and how maybe, just maybe I could come up with a solution to bad governance and corruption. I fail miserably. I tell myself that maybe that's too big a thought for 2 in the morning. So I decide that maybe thinking about my dreams- my dream job, house, partner and a dog ( I am not a dog person). But that's the picture of a perfect family and I force my mind to conjure up that image. But that is also an exercise in futility. Because no insomniac thinks about bad governance or hopes and dreams at 2 in the freaking morning.

All we do is think about the past. The mistakes that we made that are still haunting us. Hindsight is at its best, and we see that the worst mistakes we ever did were out of love. In retrospect, we analyze what we should have done differently, what we could have said or not said. We regret not doing certain things. We entertain thoughts that we've always kept in the dark recesses of our minds, those thoughts that we dare not tell anyone, yet they are the ones that make us truly happy. We relieve the happiest moments of our lives and wish we could have them back.

At 2 am, we think about our past romantic relationships. The texts that we didn't reply. The phone calls that we didn't make. The lies that we told. The secrets that we shared. We think about the wrong people that we fell for. We regret not having walked away sooner. We also remember the good souls that we hurt with our words, the time that we didn't give them yet they loved us to death.

At 2 am, we think about ourselves, we feel guilty, we laugh at our mistakes and sometimes we cry ourselves to sleep.

The title of this post is from the song Breathe (2 AM) by Anna Nalick.

Every New Beginning Comes From Some Other Beginning's End

This post is 19 days late, but I have an explantation for my lateness. I have been busy; I know it is vague, but it is true. I wouldn't have written this post but it is 5:30 am and I check my phone to see that I have an unread text that was sent at 23:36 from an acquaintance of mine wishing me a Happy New Year. Of course my initial reaction was that it is the middle of January so the year is no longer new, but after giving it some thought, I figured that what is new is relative. And thus I am waiting until when it will be a socially acceptable time to reply to the text. In the meantime, I have three options; to read Jostein Gaardner's Sophie's World, to watch back to back episodes of 90210 or to write a blog post. I go with the blog post, because it is 2014, and I haven't published anything yet. I have so many drafts that I am yet to publish because lately I have been extra cautious about what I publish online, so hopefully this one will get published.

So 2013 is over and I can't help but feel excited. For one, I am the type of person who gets super excited about new things, and a new year is no exception. Secondly, 2013 was a hard year for me, so when the curtains closed on it, I was on top of the world. I don't want to go to details but 2013 was a year that was full of faking smiles, pain that I totally refused to feel and had my time full of activities - I read, went to work and met with friends- all in effort to avoid feeling. But the thing with avoidance is that you reach a point where you can't do it anymore and that's when you have a breakdown. So 2013 was a cycle of avoidance and then a breakdown, and then being genuinely happy and then avoidance- you get the picture. Don't get me wrong, there were other things that 2013 brought with it, one being freedom. Freedom to be who I really I am and not apologizing about it, and the very vital financial freedom. 2013 was also the year that I got to build on my friendships and being a good person.

So with 2013 over and 2014 already here, I am excited about what the next 11 months have in store for me. This year, I take everyday as it comes and not waiting for a time when things will be better, because I realize that every now and then life begins again (yes, am quoting Breaking Benjamin). But here is a more serious quote that will guarantee that you have a kick ass year;

    Last year I abstained
    this year I devour
    without guilt
    which is also an art
      -Margaret Atwood

The title of this post is from the song Closing Time by Semisonic.