Long live the Queens!


The title is the ending remark from this Gawker article.
The article is written as a response from a clearly concerned writer about a comment Patti Stanger made about gay dating. The article further discusses gay men and masculinity, how some are trying to rid the stereotype of the girly man.

You all know by now what my stand on queens is! I’ve got no problem with them as long as they don’t bother me.

The last paragraph of the article caught my attention:

“So instead of trying to ward the queens off, we should all be thanking them. Thank them for being the front lines of the gay pride parade. Thank them have for having the strength to endure. Thank them for having the courage to change people's minds and not let them forget that there are gay people out there and we come in all shapes, colors, and sizes, all of them great. Thank them for teaching children the most valuable lesson: that you can't go wrong being true to yourself. Yes, thank them for living.”

It’s good to see that somewhere in this world, queens are appreciated!

Here in Kenya (or Africa) queens get harassed by cops almost all the time. I don’t have a queen friend who hasn’t got a story to share about being beaten, harassed, mocked, arrested on false bases, or worse, sexually assaulted by the authorities. They get exposed in the media (they’re not stealthy sadly.) often in bad light, disrupting their lives and receiving hatred and discrimination from families and friends.

Yet they still have the guts to strut out the door and be themselves in a not too accepting society! If that’s not bravery…

Anyway, cheers to the queens, society would be a boring place if it weren’t for your (hilarious) dramas! Be sure to slap the Tacos bouncer, that always ends hilariously.

|Single ladies-Beyonce|

My life bores them; can’t be bothered shocker


I’m trying to understand why some people have a problem with the topics i discuss either physically or on social networks. I talk about these constantly:

School: OF COURSE i’m going to talk/tweet/whatever about university. That’s because i’m a student. Thanks for noticing!

Alcohol: I like my drinks. Would you rather talk about the rate at which grass grows OR, about how some drunk gay guy was swimming in scandalous swimming trunks? which one sounds more interesting to you?

Men: I’m gay, what do you expect?

The news: When you’re busy talking about how some random series is nice, in my head i’m thinking “the movie place you buy them from will increase the price because the cost of doing business is going up and you can’t give a shit about that because you care about what will happen in episode 1 of the latest season."

Music: It plays a big part in my life.

The weather: When there’s nothing going on and the weather’s really shitty, or when it’s absolutely jovial, it’s nice to talk about it, because it strikes conversation with others, which leads to plans, which leads to fun.

Routine: Life is routine. Whether you recognize it or not, everyone has a routine. Even that mentally handicapped homeless man has some sort of routine. You don’t want good morning messages? Perhaps how i’m enjoying my mug of tea? No?

I think i was misinformed about what freedom of expression was. I can very easily stop talking about this. I’m sure your “timelines” would be less polluted, i mean, everyone has that friend that’s constantly whining about one thing or the next, or the superficial bastard that tweets shit. Do you see me complain about what you write about? What you blog? What you tweet? What you discuss when we congregate together as friends?  I’m actually tired of being told that because of all these things that go on in my life, i’m missing out. On what, the colour of your new shirt? The latest gossip on who’s dating who?
Maybe it’s because, i’ve got things i deem important like finishing uni to worry about. Just maybe. I’m not saying i’m not bothered with your lives, it’s simply because i have my own life to live! Come on! If my life bores you, feel free to find another friend. I’m perfectly comfortable what i discuss.

But then, if i stopped discussing these occurrences in my life, should i even bother breathing & living? This is my life. Not yours, mine.


Yet more talk


Apart from strange dreams which i discussed in my last post (some comments were useful, others just hilarious), there’s not been much going on with me except perhaps the following:

So i’ve started peer counselling training class. I’m quite social and i talk to lots of people, many in my generation. This class will help me help them, because there’s this aspect of me that people seem to like, a trusting aspect. I can make friends and within a week (heck an afternoon) someone literally pours their heart and problems to me. Many a time i wish i had sensible things to say or ways to help them handle their problem but i didn’t make an impact. These classes will help me. BY THE WAY i’m being taught by, yup, you guessed it, A NUN! At the end of the day, even in this (chaotic?) gay society i might be able to help people. That’s a good thing right?

I went to watch theatre this weekend! Both Saturday and Sunday. It’s quite refreshing, away from the usual partying or sit downs at restaurants. I’ve gone back to theatre and books it seems, with my current read being as you like it by William Shakespeare. It surprises people that i read such, especially from a really old book printed 48 years ago. (antique book shopping!)

And that’s about it. For now. You know honestly i had a lot to say but it seems i said all i needed to. There’s a club trip to some strange hill this weekend. I don’t have my bee sting gun. Fun!

P.s, you’ll get your own post. Because i’m sleepy and i still don’t know how to say this here!


A Dream most peculiar


So there’s this dream that’s been bothering me lately. I’ve discussed it with friends but i didn’t mention to them that it’s repeated 3 times!! Recurring dreams aren’t very common (there’s actually a childhood nightmare of a chameleon in my bed that’s still VERY vivid), i’d usually ignore this but this particular dream is just so peculiar but so interesting at the same time…

It begins with me following a man, i can’t see his face. He’s my height, meaty, and dark. We are close. We are in some small town by the sea. As the sun begins to set, he turns into a bull, a muscular, huge, HUGE stocky bull! This bull is difficult to control, so i flee.
The next scene is at a party, i’m dancing with this man who’s face i still cannot see. It’s an open air party. There’s a lot of men and women dancing. The sun starts to set and almost immediately the man turns into a bull again! I’m scared and i feel adrenaline rushing! Everyone is still dancing, oblivious to the fact that there’s a bull in the room! The bull snorts steam from it’s nose. I’m looking at it square in the eye! I back out of the room and run outside. Bull_fighting
There are vineyards and white buildings. The sunset is still there. “Sister Irene! Sister Irene!” i call. I am running through a town of sorts. 
The next scene, i’m running down the cobblestone street with a group of nuns. Mind you the sunset is still there! I am running towards the party with anxiety in my heart. There we find that there is no bull. In it’s place is the man whom i still can’t see properly. I’m confused! But the nuns are there looking very serious at the man. Suddenly, there’s three flashes, darkness, light, darkness, light, darkness and light again. The man had been a bull, man, bull, man and bull again! This time it’s eyes are red and the steam from it’s nose is engulfing the area!
At this point i’m really scared, i start to back away again. The nuns however, begin to chant something and surround the bull! The chanting grows louder and louder. More flashes of light! The bull is fighting, trying to get out of the circle but it can’t. More flashes of light occur.
With one long flash of light, the bull is a man. In the background, i can hear Enya’s Flora’s Secret Song playing. The sun has set and the nuns are behind me with their arms in their robes/gowns. There is a feeling of calm and happiness in me. This man turns around to stare me in the face…

And i wake up.

I cannot explain this dream. I’m not Catholic (not religious). I’ve sought counsel with several people. A friend of mine says that the church is represented by the nuns and that the bull, well, is the bullshit that people feel the church says at times. Another has said that the bull is a person i’ve met that is very dear to me and that it’s resistance is a test for me to see if i’ll help it (which i did). But it’s still very confusing to me…

|fall for your type-Jamie Foxx Ft. Drake|

Happier Times


Sunday morning and the author is sat up in his bed keeping warm and writing. Forgive the boring tone of the post. I write as i recollect.

3 days is all it took to compensate for not going out on the rave the whole month of August. It all started when i was heading to the bus stop after school Thursday. I wasn’t really in the mood for going home, so i dialled my schoolmate, who was also around. He made me turn back to campus! The bus stop was right in front of me, but i turned back anyway. He’s hilarious company.
We walk to a bar near campus. We find they’re setting up DJ equipment. A popular brand is marketing it’s vodka, it’s the theme of the night. I buy us two beers and we sit and chat. We are joined a few minutes later by 3 pretty ladies. They’ve snuck in more vodka of a different brand that’s very popular. The music continues. The place gets packed with youth. We discuss all sorts of things! Drinking a cocktail of Vodka and Soda, mind you there’s beer as well. The music starts getting really good and we all stand up to dance. And dance. And dance some more!
Photos have been taken us, looking fabulous or looking tipsy, perhaps a combination of both? More beer comes our way. More talk, more dance. It’s time to leave. We walk to the bus stop, my friend says “you know what, i’m not done!” and leaves me with his bag. An attractive man had been buying him drinks! These closeted people operate so unusually. I hop into a matatu and zig zag home. Clearly intoxicated, but with sense of direction. I find my brother awake. He shakes his head. I shrug. I find my dinner and eat (more like savage) while i check my mails. And then i slept. I felt happy inside, i genuinely had the first good day in ages.

It’s Friday morning. I've got the worst hangover in recent times. Walk to the shop with my brother, ask him to buy pain killers. Shop keeper says, “it’s for that young one!”  I’m unable to defend myself. I smile sheepishly, because i clearly had HANGOVERED written on my forehead. Back in the house to sleep some more. The first gay film festival in Kenya was that evening and i needed to look fresh! I run to meet my girl friends in the evening, i didn’t want us to be late. Beautiful as ever, they get lusty stares from men. I’m given looks of envy for being in their company. It’s not my fault they’re models. The festival hasn’t begun. We are outside waiting, curiosity written on everyone’s face, a sense of excitement, am energy lingers in the air. Diplomats, youth, middle aged, many people were there!
The doors open, and we proceed in. I talk to a friend, a minute later i’m steered to front row seats. it’s good to know people, as these were seats reserved for diplomats. I’m off to the bar, it’s an open bar (of course i would don’t give me that look!). I rush there and return, now the hall is full. It’s a few minutes before the event begins. I make rounds of greetings to the very many friends who know me. I return and sit. The first film, a documentary about gays in Uganda. Very insightful, makes us all appreciate our freedom here in Kenya. They’ve got it rough.
We leave after the second film milk commences. Majority have seen it. My girlfriends part ways with me, as did many of close friends, leaving me with others. We are supposedly walking to the bus stop when a friend says “lets go say hi to a friend at a club”. We proceed. This person we were going to say hello to is my ex (whom i’ve been told reads this blog. Meh!). I have no problem with it, as i’ve moved on entirely. We sat down. The music’s incredible! We order a beer. “"just one then we go.” I’m told. I’m not complaining! The music’s incredible! More of our gay friends join us. We are in the corner of the club. There’s space to dance. We dance! And dance. And dance. Before we know it it’s 2am. We leave. I walk with my friends and we part ways at our matatu bus stop.

Saturday Morning! I’ve no hangover but my thighs, oh lord my thighs hurt from dancing! Dancing two nights in a row. I’ve not seen my mother since Wednesday evening i realize. Late nights early mornings. I was to shop on this day. The mood was there, but where were my friends? I dial others. My close girlfriend will join me. When i get to the city centre to meet her and connect to other routes, the sun comes out. I love the sunshine! Fair weather. Nairobians are looking trendy, well dressed. The nature of Saturday afternoons. We shop for Chinos. Bloody things are expensive. Then again, isn’t life nowadays? We spot several books and buy them. I’ve got a Shakespeare book on my reading list. We find shoes! Brilliant Land-Rover shoes. No more shopping. Oh look, a vintage bag! Alright no more shopping. We take an evening stroll as we head to my friend’s apartment. The evening sun is wonderful. At my friends’ house, we make dinner as we catch up. We are joined by our other friends. We watch little Britain as we catch up. We were to go out again but fatigue caught up with everyone. It’s time for me to go home. My cabbie’s number is off and i don’t have other cab driver’s numbers for some strange reason. Make a few calls. I get dropped at a taxi rank and head home. My gate is not locked thankfully. I put my shopping down, hop into bed and sleep.

Sunday morning. Noisy monkeys and noisy church goers of the house wake me up. I make tea and return to my room. Where i’m currently at. I’m to go to the motorshow with my brother later on. I hope it’ll be fun!
On that note, i just have to say i’m thankful for life. It works in strange ways but when it works out, wonderful feelings of joy and happiness come with those good blessings..

|Lucky-Jason Mraz & Colbie Cailat|



This song makes me happy... it's so positive!



I lost another friend who was undergoing surgery. This year i’ve lost friends but this one was a really nice friend, she was tall, pretty smart, and a really good person generally. She used to help me out in some classes. I feel so awful that i’ve lost her. I know it’s God’s wish but still, she had so much going for her. I feel so bad…

Today for the first time in a very long time, i shed tears. I’ve been heart broken, backstabbed, but i still walked. Today though, i burst into tear. I couldn’t take anymore. It’s days like these i don’t get life at all… I don’t even know how i’m going to handle that funeral, i’m just tired…tired of putting good people to final rest.

|We shout-t.A.T.u|

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