Nyaruai

S o I have this dress guys. I don't know who wore it before me, but I have a feeling they were very sad, and perhaps I now, occasionally, wear some of the despair in transference. It is an unflattering piece of fashion, that dress, and it is only meant to be worn in the safe cover of darkness.  I remember it was gifted to me by my mom, back when I was just beginning to navigate my twenties and I had not yet been contaminated by maisha ya anasa. I remember my mother had gone thrifting at Kawangware market and brought me the nightie so I could stop sleeping in t-shirts marketing barbed wire or cement.  You know for someone who walks around life on autopilot, I don’t know how I manage to attach fiction to my clothes. But is it fiction that if it rains every time, I wear that brown button-down dress? Or if every time I take a long-haul trip to rock bottom it usually starts in that blue dress with black stars? I think not. There are three significant periods of my life where I hav