Dear Diary

We haven’t talked in a while. Well we didn’t even use to talk but that changed the moment the round bottomed and full breasted lady started acting like she got my vibe. Truth be told i was kinda naive not to see all the signs. Like she wouldn’t pick my call when i called, never called back and just when i seemed to have given up she would initiate a chat that would get my heart warming in the joy of true love. She was fair, that i gotta give her. Her face wasn’t wrinkled below the chin like my last girlfriend. She had better mastery of the queen’s language and sent texts that didn’t replace s with x. Her messages were fully spelt and whenever she doubted a spelling she would bracket a plea for forgiveness. Well if you ask me that wasn’t such an easy find, she would laugh at my jokes, well not most of them but at least some got through. She was the smartest lady i’ve ever met and who ensured i got it into my head that i had finally met a match or probably a better intellect for she stopped me from the numerous repetitions i was used to to help other not so intelligent souls catch on. She liked my friends, or so i thought and she even passed regards to one of them, probably cos he was always coming up in our conversations.

Ok, ok i get it i don’t have to retell that story but today i come to worship at your temple not because i missed you but because i feel like you’re the best friend i have. The one who would listen and never talk back but would somehow place bright and repugnant ideas into my beautiful mind.You know what, you get me. In case you are interested, i broke up with her and she acted heartbroken but you know what they say, “True love waits.” Actually i haven’t gotten over her and for what’s its worth, suppose she realises am the best she’s ever gonna have, i will be right here waiting to take her back.

So while last week I went home to spend my semester break somehow my phone got busted. Well, my new smart phone caused all the hullaballoos with my relatives especially my grandma who was specifically impressed with the pinch feature. The first night she ran her rough fingers on the gorilla glass and I would swear I could see scratch marks after she fell asleep holding tight to the phone that suppose it had blood it would have bled out by the time I pulled it free. But that wasn’t the highlight of that experience now that I remember how she laughed every time she pinched and it zoomed in an out much to the chagrin of my little cousins. If you think the worst had happened my little sister became the next fun(pun intended) who probably loved the Adele songs I had added to help me sleep on the bus. What’s more weird than a lady watching soaps if not a teenager singing Adele songs every time you meet her, her earpieces sticking out of her ears. It is however that time when she came to me with those innocent eyes and hands clasped on the chest that gave me a diarrhoea. After three days without my phone she had somehow broken the charging port with also happened to double as the USB. And her defence, well she was sorry and offered to give me a Kshs. 100 to help me cover the repair costs, and when I refused to take that she kept asking and insisting that I was mad. Well I was mad but you know what they say, “You are a master of how you respond to any situation” so I smiled and grudgingly took the cash and pretended her accept her apology. In case you want to know, it cost me 1000 to fix the port.  So while I was pissed off I chanced on the memory of William Ernest Henley’s Invictus poem which also happens to be the poem that Nelson Mandela read everyday for 27 years while imprisoned. And Diary, so you never complain i never kept a copy with you, here goes:

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul

Till next time, sweet diary, lets keep the secrets revealed here-in between us.



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