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Showing posts with the label Random thoughts

Damn!

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 I’ve been quiet lately.  Not because I joined a meditation retreat in Tigoni or went offline to “find myself” in Ngong Hills. No. My situation ship had ghosted me again, and my bank balance was giving K.P.L.C. token vibes, very dark and annoying. It started on a random Saturday in my crib.  I was lying on my bed, scrolling endlessly through Twitter, laughing at people with soft lives, I decided to do something I hadn't done in a while, think. Proper thinking. Not the one where I pretend to reflect but actually just replaying movies in your head that you have previously watched. I had this deep reflection while staring at my ceiling, asking the universe the big questions after munching on three chapatis with beans  (you'll have to excuse my love for chapatis),  and then as I lay there in silence  (ok,  there were a couple of mosquitos buzzing around,  but still),  the truth knocked, and it hit me.  Accountability is not a punishment,...

Thoughts on (The Catcher in the Rye)

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                         It's a classic but with a heavy dose of notoriety within American culture considering the period it was published. You can Google or ChatGPT the controversies around it.  I had my own share of its intrigue when I first came across it, way back on campus. I still remember that encounter quite vividly like it was yesterday. There were the three of us around a table having some drinks after a difficult CAT. Sharing the table was my room mate, best friend. I will call him Y. To complete the table was X, a mutual lady friend whom I perceived to be a deep thinker.  Lying on the table was a collection of three books Y had just acquired to dilute the stress of academic reading. The first book was The Fountainhead. That's the first time I knew Ayn Rand was a lady and not a man. I can't seem to recall the second book but the top one was definitely, The Catcher in the Rye. Y was more into philosop...

Absurdity of it

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                  I was in this virtual space with creatives, creative writers to be specific, you know what they say about birds of a feather, don't you? We were in this virtual space discussing different issues here and there when someone happened to pose this to the rest of us Can we play a little?   I'm tired of typing, my nails are becoming red. H ow many of you have asked yourself this?  “Am I actually doing the right thing?” “Is this story worth telling?” I must confess the more I make my story sound emotional, the more it's sounding like a comedy pi ece.   I related to it so much. I had been crafting a story to submit to a certain writing competition. I had been sitting on it for a while. It didn't have anything to do with creativity or writer's block, far from it. It could be the imposter syndrome creeping in, the vulnerability expressed by what I was penning, or how I was second-guessing everything I wrote.  One...