Memento (You Think You're Nickel Slick But I Got Your Penny Change)

I came across them almost by accident. Two Vcd's of music videos with her handwriting all over them. The last two thing I possess that connect me to her. That connect me to the past that I have with her. If I get rid of these, all I'll have left are memories. Memories, mind you, that are already starting to fade. Like her face whenever I try to picture it. The face of one year of my life, just slipping away. But in all honesty, most of me is relishing it. What Ive been asking for, for what seems like forever, is finally happening. But then on the flip side, theres this other part of me, the smaller part of me, that is still grasping at vapors, wanting to hold onto something. A kiss, a fight, a fuck...anything. But vapor is vapor and will soon become vapor no more. And the sooner you realize that (and by you, I mean I and by I, I mean that smaller part of me that just wont take a hint) the better. Soon the memories will be gone. Leaving room for you to store up some more memories. And leaving alone that other, smaller part of me, I'm actually kind of giddy about it. Its like when you've had a cold for so long that you forget what its like to not have a cold and then when you finally get over said cold its like “hey, what have I been missing?” yet all it is, is a restoration to how things are supposed to be. A heart light, a heart free, ready to cast my line with plenty of fish in the sea.
And so what of the Vcd's Lloyd? What will happen to them? Because remember, unlike memories, Cd's don't fade.
Well, I'll get rid of them of course. Thats the only reasonable course of action don't you think? I mean, holding onto them really wouldn't do me much good, would it?
I guess not.
Well then its settled.
I separate the two Vcd's from the rest of the stack. Allow myself a little smile. One is labeled “Baby L's videos” with a small smiley face with its smiley face flipped upside down turning it into a frowny face with tears streaming down it while the other was simply labeled as hers with a small “yippee” scrawled next to her name.
I try to use them to conjure up a memory or two. One final salute. But its useless. I come up with nothing. With nothing but vapors. Useless vapors.
“I guess this really is the end.” I mumble to myself. Then gripping both Vcd's I bend, bend, beeeeeeend them until finally they...(crack!) break.

Be nice now, because in spite of what you've heard, i'm quite the tender soul.

theres something that i would like to share with all of you. its not quite a novel and nor is it a memoir. its just a collection of thoughts, experiences and a small glimpse into the world i used to live in. its a testament to where Ive been and i would love to share that with all of you. its a bit lengthy and for some it might make you a little squirmy but please download it anyway and please try read it and please let me know what you think...

Find the link to this nifty little site i found where you can download it from below.

http://www.scribd.com/doc/34477733/The-Difference-Between-Openness-and-Honesty

A Lost Page From My Diary (I Wonder)

I wonder about a lot of things. About how different things would have turned out if certain things had been different. I wonder what kind of man I would have become if I had known my father. If he had been more than just a huge hole in my heart that over the years I have forced myself to ignore. Would I have grown up to walk like him, or talk like him, pr sit on my ass and dream like only a dreamer can, like him. But you, this here is where the strange part is, because I already do all of those things, like him. And if that is the case, I wonder, does that mean that I'm destined to fail like him?

A bitter pill to swallow but something Ive realized I have to face.

In the one candid conversation I ever had with my mom about my father she told me that he was weak. That staying with him would have meant an existence full of fighting and raised voices, strife and tears she had no desire to cry.

“That was no environment to raise a child in.” she told me.

“And so I left. I left because I love you...more than you could ever know. I left because I did not want you to turn out like him.”

well guess what mom, Twenty-two years down the line and I have...turned out just like him. They say that I look just like him when he was my age. Only that I'm a little taller and I wear my beard a little different.

The few times that I have met him, I guess I can see why people might say that. He is most definitely my father and I am most definitely his son. But I can also see what my mom saw. And just like her, I don't want to turn out like that. I don't. I wont. I do not. I will not. I will fight it with every breath I take. And every time it threatens to wash over me, when complacency becomes easier than action, and day dreams more preferable to reality; I will kick, I will scream, I will punch, I will bite and with much gnashing of teeth I will fight...

Light up (Freestyle) Unthinkable

We live in scary times. In times of death and of blood. Of shattered bones and bodies being carried in sacks because they are too torn to be carried on stretchers. We live in times where it is the innocent who die. While the evil, their souls tarred with their crimes, walk free. Breathing our air, the air they have stolen from the ghosts they have made of the souls who used to walk these streets. We live in times where we lose loved ones and friends and loved ones of friends. All have lost someone or have lost someone through someone. And because we are of one blood, because we are all kin; there is no one who has been left unaffected. But even though this may be the case, I will not let this deter me. I will hold onto hope. I will live as I have always lived. Knowing that after the sun has set on this life, I have eternity waiting for me...

...And it is for this reason that...

...I will not be scared into love. No, not by bombs nor by threats of bombs. I will not leap into love nor by an illusion there of, simply because my mortality has been flashed before my eyes and there's now a real chance of me dying alone. No, I will not succumb. I refuse to be bullied into love. Or a wraith of what we call love. I will love when and how I want to. With a heart as big as the sun. and just as fiery. I refuse to love simply because to not to would be a liability. Instead, I will hold out for something better, for something stronger, for something hotter, for something brighter...

I will dare to hope, I will dare to live. I will raise my flag high. I will not be afraid to give. I will stand in courage, I will stand in love. It's black, yellow and red forever homie...yeah, now that's what's up.

Something I Find A Little Distressing

A Little Note:

This here is the influence of that Def Poetry (yeah I know, where have I been) and I loved it so much that I wrote this at four o'clock in the morning standing in front of a full length mirror because it suddenly hit me and I just couldn't believe that...

I Still...Daydream...About...Her...

And no you don't have to say it

its pathetic, I know

I daydream of bowling into her

and I'm dating somebody famous

or if not that then at least somebody who looks like they're famous

and if failing that then someone who looks like they're related to someone who's famous

and why would I day dream about that? You say

You scratch your head in wonder

Don't be a dummy, dummy

it would mean that I would be winning the break up, of course

because sure you've moved on but then I have too

but guess what honey, my rebound is much better than yours

Or than you.

Ridiculous right?

A little juvenile right?

But listen,

this is not your day dream is it...?

It's mine.

Other times I daydream that she calls me up for coffee

and once there she proceeds to declare how much she still cares for me

and that she has tried everything known to man

including another man

but simply put

she just...can...not...shake me.

and she hates herself for it

God, she hates me

because she knows,

because she heard it from somewhere that I'm already taken

I'm engaged and to her dismay we've already set a date

but even though,

she's hoping there's something she can say that will make me reconsider...

Ridiculous right?

A little juvenile right?

But listen,

this is not your day dream is it...?

It's mine

But don't get me wrong

Ive got girls, girls, girls galore

Ive got them coming out of the wood work

one, two, three, four...and more.

Ive got them falling out of the sky

and washing up on the shore

but you see the thing is

what Ive still failed to understand is

I still...Daydream...About...Her...

and I just cant shake it.

Crushcrushcrush

M is a singer. And not only that but she's a pretty damn good one too. She has the kind of voice that you wish you could trademark. The kind of voice you wish you could rob God of the patent for. She has the voice of an angel. Or as Mike would say, “That girl really knows how to hold it down.” who's Mike? You might ask. Don't worry, we'll get to that.

Its one of the things I like most about her. That and that she sings all the time. It doesn't matter where she is or who she's with or what time it is, more often than not if you don't find her singing then she's at least humming some sort of tune.

Funny thing though, she has it in her head that it gets to me. And the thing is, it does. Just not in the way she thinks. She thinks it irritates me yet all it does is excite me. Which Ive told her on more than one occasion but for some reason she thinks I say that just to appease her. If only she knew.

I almost didn't recognize her today. She looked stunning. Believe it or not, it as my first time to see her in jeans. Up until today I had only seen her in skirts. Ive always known that the girl's got curves but the jeans and the form fitting blouse she was wearing accentuated them to a point where I almost had to bite down on my knuckles to keep myself from saying something...”unbecoming”. Her hair was pinned up and the make up she wore, although, not a lot, was more than flattering.

She had sung in choir today. Though she hadn't expected to. I think the sudden call to arms, because as we are constantly reminded- this is a battle, I think it left her a little...not shaken but something close to it. As we talked she seemed distracted. I asked her about it but she insisted that she was all there, that I had her full attention and she nestled up against me as if to prove her point.

She wanted to go wash her hair and so that meant not that much time f or us to hang out.

“Do you really have to do it today?” I asked her, my tone almost pleading.

“Not really, I could do it tomorrow but-”

“But you really want to do it today.” I finished for her.

“You!” she exclaimed, grabbing my arm, “you make it sound like I care more for my hair than I do for you.”

“But of course,” I told M, giving her a cheeky grin, “I'm trying to guilt trip you over here.”

“Well, juss so you know, its not going to work.” she shot back giving me a pinch, “now come on and walk me down to my taxi.”

Of course I had no choice but to obey like a little lap dog, not that I really minded.

BT-Dub, do you have any idea how hard it is to walk through Kampala while holding someone's hand? Its no walk in the park, that's for sure. Unless of course, its the taxi park we're talking about, which quite simply put is pure, unadulterated chaos. But we managed...somehow.

Walking up to the taxi, hand in hand like the couple of love birds that we now almost are, it was almost time to say goodnight. We continued to chat as the taxi filled up until there were only two seats left, at which point we hugged (each time we hug it seems to become more intimate) and with a promise that I would call her later she jumped into the taxi. I waited until it had rolled away from me before I started moving again.

Listening to: Crushcrushcrush by Paramore

Finis: 32500 AM (goodnight)

I lie about a lot of things. To others and to myself. About big things and about things that I really have no reason to lie about. My tongue's gotten me into a lot of trouble over the years. But you know what the ironic thing is? I get in more trouble when I tell the truth than when I lie. Probably because when I do decide to tell the truth, I'm a little too truthful. But that being said, there are some things that I am incapable of lying about. Things that if I tried to, I would be, without a doubt, found out as soon as the words left my mouth. For example? Well, for example, I wouldn't be able to lie about the fact that I'll always feel something for (IN CAPITALS, bold, font 18 and even in italics- take a deep breath before you say it) HER. And no, I'm not talking about “M”, she's still “fresh meat”...that is to say that we are still in the first few minutes of the first half of the match, we still have a long way to go yet. I'm talking about “E”. yes, the once dreaded, now not so dreaded ex. That six foot tall, long legged beauty that whittled her way into my heart without a second thought.

She had a such impact on my life that it would be kind of ridiculous if I could lie about that...convincingly. She taught me how to love again...and how to hate. She gave me a reason to be passionate when I was at a time in my life when it was hard for me to be passionate about anything. Up until her, all my life had been was a cycle of parties, sexual conquests and torturous hangovers. I have a lot to thank her for. So thank you. And even though I'll always have a soft spot for her, as I sit here typing this, with each passing day she crosses my mind less and less. Her name no longer elicits that tug of the heart that it used to. She's no longer a common topic of conversation. I no longer have to restrain myself from calling her or sending her a message. Now its even a task to call her even when I have to. I guess thats kind of a good thing though. I mean it would be kind of unhealthy if I was still hung up on her after all this time, wouldn't it? In any case, that's enough about her. I'm supposed to be looking forwards, not back.

“M” called me about an hour ago. Or more accurately, she beeped and I called back. To her mother's phone. God forbid I make the mistake of trying to call her during the day. “M” doesn't have a phone you see. It was stolen a lil over a week ago. Which, quite obviously, has slowed this whole...whatever you want to call it to little more than a crawl. Not that I'm in a rush to go anywhere. I'm happy with the speed at which we're moving at actually. It evokes all the innocence of high school. When I was in high school. Hand holding, laughing at unfunny jokes, covert glances across the table that suggest well, something suggestive; a touch here, a touch there...nothing overtly sexual, kind of sweet. After all Ive seen, its kind of refreshing, this...slow burn of things.

I'm seeing her tomorrow. Well, technically, it's today seeing as its about five minutes to three in the morning but who's dwelling on technicalities here? I sure aint. And although it's not all that surprising, I'm like really excited that I'm going to see her. Not too much, but I think, just enough. So keep your fingers crossed because this just might be what I'm looking for...

I'm off to bed...

Nitey.

I Scream, You Scream, We all Scream for...(No Not Ice Cream but) a Kiss Goodnight

She's pretty when she smiles. The kind of pretty that makes you want to give her one of those half kisses. You know, just on the corner of her mouth, not a full kiss but enough of one to let her know exactly what you're all about just in case the laced hand holding hasn't gotten the point across already.

She was smiling then. Playing with her ice cream while I told her some story about who knows what, full with hand motions and sound effects. I was getting quite a good number of stares but I couldn't have cared less, I was in my element doing one of the things I do best; being ridiculously charming.

And it must have been working because just then she burst out laughing, planting a conspicuous hand on my knee.

Oh yeah, now I remember, I was telling her about the time I cut off my hair. The hair that had been 3 years in the making. “M”, as Ive decided to call her, had seen a picture of me when I still had my dreaded dreadlocks somewhere and with her hand showing no signs of vacating itself from my knee, she then proceeded to ask me the one question I have since become sick of answering: “So why did you cut off your hair?”

I slurped at what was left of my ice cream. It was watery as shit. That was the last time I was getting ice cream from Santos, I told myself.

“It was just time.” I told her.

I could tell that although my answer didn't necessarily impress her, it did make an impression. She didn't like guys with long hair. She was glad she had met me when the hair was already gone. Although she had taken note of the fact that the only hair on my head that I cut was the hair on my face and so this led her to ask me whether I was planning on growing my hair out again.

I shrugged, “Maybe, I don't know.”

“Please don't.” she pleaded, “I like the way you look now.”

She was now gripping one of my hands with both of hers, her tone and expression beseeching.

“Um, okay.”

There was that smile again. Gosh, if she didn't stop doing that she might catch herself quite a surprise...

“By the way,” she asked, oblivious to the affect she was having on me, “what time is it? Is it nine yet?”

Detaching my hand from hers, I pulled out my phone. Stole a look.

“Its quarter to. Wanna get moving?”

she nodded.

“Yeah, sure.”

we got up, walked down stairs and headed out the entrance.

As soon as we hit the street her hand found its way into mine and we proceeded to walk, hand in hand like the couple love birds we were not, towards the Old Taxi Park.

We talked about Cece Winans, One Tree Hill, dirty dancing and wearing glasses. Nothing about our conversation or the fact that when M ran into an old friend of hers and was asked whether we were dating and we were both reluctant to say that we weren't, to me, seemed in the least bit unusual.

“Well, this is me.” she said as we reached her taxi. It was filling up fast and so I didn't want to keep her. I gave her a hug.

“So when do I see you?” she asked. “Saturday?”

She was holding my hand, I gave hers a little squeeze.

“Definitely. Beep me when you get home so I can call.”

She nodded. Gave me a squeeze of her own.

“Definitely.”

There was that smile again.

Holding her gaze for a second, I let go and walked towards Cooper Complex, Bukasa taxis and home, all the while wondering “why didn't I friggin kiss her?”.