Skip to main content

Life Being Life


Photo credits

Two dozen years hasn’t felt like much. My whole life has been in school. And I haven’t really ‘lived’. And by that I mean, I haven’t had my chunk of high stakes responsibilities or enough experiences to warrant living. There’s too many unchecked boxes. Too many interests I want to pursue, that I believe I can do. Apparently, it’s a Gemini thing.

(I can’t believe I just said that. Me. Simon. Believer of science and evidence and evolution. Goodness me.

External pressure got to me, of believing in star signs. I know they’re not backed by scientific evidence but when I watch videos of 20 something year old American girls with tattoos and dark lipstick describe the traits of a Gemini, I check all the boxes. Maybe that’s all the evidence I need.)

The morning I turned twenty four on June 2020, it was Monday. I was nursing a small hangover from too much Muratina and beer the previous night. I was also nursing shame and embarrassment from the drunk dialing I’d done in my drunken stupor. I’d love to tell you that at the time, it seemed like a great decision. But that’s a drunk’s cliché statement you don’t want to hear.

The call went great, to say the least. But shame still loomed over my head that Monday morning because I also did some embarrassing shit I’m not secure enough to share here yet.

24 years isn’t much. But much has happened. For instance, I moved out of my father’s house. How they say to throw yourself in the deep end if you want to learn how to swim. You see, I started online writing – the number one profession for uni students all across Thika Road – and thought “why not?” Plus the old man and I weren’t really getting along and as twitter babes say, “Peace of mind is everything 🕯️🕯️ ” It’s something that happens with Kikuyu fathers and sons which me and Tony plan to talk about on our podcast.

Living alone hasn’t been much different from home. I just cook later, at 11.30pm and wake up at 9a.m without judging myself too harshly. I also pay rent which hurts, man. See, in between rent and daily expenses you find that money moves too fast. In and out before you know it. And since I’m older, I won’t make a dirty joke about ‘in and out.’

So that’s what I’ve learnt, not to get too attached to money. Like proverbial Nairobi relationships.

2020 also saw me become a single bachelor. After almost three years of dating, it came down stumbling like a block of cards. It was stronger than that at some point but time has a way of undoing things.

Honestly, it took some time to adjust. There’s the first phase when your mind knows but your heart doesn’t. And it doesn’t help that things ended amicably. So you find yourself slipping and texting her sometimes. The conversations aren’t too bad. You just notice you’ve fallen off the pecking order because responses aren’t as fast or enthusiastic. Anyway, you plan and have a few rendezvous from time to time. To trim horns, I call it. But as time goes by and other things take your attention, the slip-texting and meetups just die a natural death. At this point, it wouldn’t be wrong to say that you’ve both moved on. And you’re left wondering at how crazy this life is. That someone you knew inside out is now a complete stranger living their life in a separate corner of the world without you.

You’re also left with massive boners because you were used to getting it consistently. Haidhuru lakini. It’s just life being life.

Corona also came and lockdowns soon followed. So it’s no surprise that so many babies were made. No one can blame guys really, these are tough times. Netflix, Twitter, and IG all get boring. But sex never does. After all, reproduction is hard-coded into our DNA. Luckily or unluckily enough, I don’t have a corona baby. I know a few new parents and they’re all guys in blossoming relationships.

For bachelors like me, all we’ve done is upped our illicit substance use by quite a margin and struggled to be productive. Such is life when and are one click away. There are always so many distractions that getting productivity out of the day requires an unearthly amount of willpower. Being always home, I also discovered that boxers aren’t that important. Not that I ever liked those tiny pieces of clothes anyway. There’s not many clothes you need at home. With some shorts and socks, you are set for the day.


Now it’s 2021, a new year that’s supposed to be the beginning of a new life post-Covid. My only one resolution was to revive this blog. But that required me to ask myself the right questions like, why did we die in the first place? I’ll put it simply. I found Mary Jane. Loved her for a while and then it all turned sour. It became toxic, I lost control and she took charge. I was overusing and my days became one long hazy and high life.

I’m better now. I’ve been able to significantly cut back and although it’s a struggle, I can sit and write a few hundred words at a time. Praise be!

Now that we’re all caught up, si we meet next week?

Be a darling and share this:


King is a mad writer on the loose. He is suspected to have lost his mind a few years after he was born. Since then, he has been writing his mind almost everywhere he can put his pen on. Someone – a government, a state, a police force, a parent, a teacher, a rabbi, a president, a sacco, a doctor, a deranged ex, a church, a therapist, or anyone with a bit of power bestowed upon them – should reprimand him and help him.

8 thoughts to “Life Being Life”

  1. Am here glued on my phone after seeing a pop-up from feeling the gaps, how are you? Whatever Mary Jane did😅😅!!
    Hope you won’t dissapoint by your absentia next week
    Good work

  2. Impressive as always. Interesting from beginning to end. Imagine the blog is 5 years old.Documenting Life at its best!!

Comments are closed.