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Showing posts with the label Random thoughts

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Imekuwa long tangu nichonge story ka venye Michelangelo alikuwa anachonga vitu clean many centuries ago. Story ilikuwa iende live but draft ilikuwa kwa simu, na simu ilizama kwa maji ka Petero venye alijishuku ati ni yeye anatembea kwa maji. Fundi naye kumpelekea simu akakuwa kama ule jamaa wa promises bandia za in “6 months”. Fundi amekaa nayo almost three weeks, ananichocha daily ati anaunda, kumbe anani-enjoy tu, simu imemlemea na hataki kunichapia.  Kuishi bila simu blunder, unasikia ni uko kwa kichaka ama ka wewe ni inmate. Nimefikiria venye shillingi itatoka nishike device ingine; itatoka ju fundi alishindwa kufufua simu hadi akili imetap out. Nikiscroll scroll YouTube nikiwa nimetulia after nimetoka kuchapiana na Boyz wangu Kimani ma one two one two, nimebump into this song called Wasted Story by Virusi Mbaya, sijui ni kama ni coincidence ama nini,  but nimerelate nayo mbaya sana na kuna part moja imepenya  “…Saka kila siku it's not enough..” “...Ma...
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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...
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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...
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