 |
I
swear I have been battling with my discipline and am confident that I lack it. Self-discipline.
Men,
it’s likely that I need enforced discipline for the consequences of violating a
rote. I wish I could administer this penalty to myself where, “Forgetting means
push-ups. Bowing to temptations means sit-ups. Loosing things means docked
wages. Lack of respect means seriously long runs with heavy back-packs. Desertion
means confinement and other punitive measures that makes one a have the regimen
of a uniformed officer”
Temptations.
They are like a virulent virus that attacks the body riding it of vital immunity
to fight it off. If you think that struggling with disciplinary issues is thus bad, wait a minute. My crystal
balls tell me that temptations and indiscipline go hand in hand. If only I was self-disciplined,
chances are I would have changed my fortunes given that I would have been able
to finish some of the small projects that I work on when I commit. When I don’t,
I end up having hanging projects.
You
are probably wondering about this indiscipline thing. Well, I promised myself
that I would write at least once a week and be consistent. I have lost that
war. I write only when I feel like and given that I don’t subject myself
through any pain, I end up being the regular joe who has nothing
to die for other that seeing the next day.
The
last time I wrote about a writer’s block which I am slowly accepting is inanity
from a lazy writer like me who felt like we suffer from it at some point. Serious
writers don’t suffer from this illusion. You don’t get a driver saying he is suffering
from a driver’s block, ok. I think serious writers wake up and realize that, “I
have to feed myself and those who depend on me for survival. And maintain a
certain standard.” So, they write. They do it by wreaking havoc, chasing
adventure, building castles in the air, mulling somewhere in an isolated sanctuary
or even in the bed after sex. Even if
what they write does not make sense. Because there is something spiritual and
emotional about penning a thought, that jiggy jiggy feeling.
Officially,
I can confess that I write illegibly. Two guys can't be wrong to say the same
thing in a span of one week. That they could not decipher what I did put down in black and white,
telling me, “Come up again, try it in another way”, it only means that I should
simplify my words. Or better still, I need an editor to offer free service till
that time I will feel charitable and philanthropic enough to dish out some few
shekels by advising if am going overboard.
My
indiscipline has cost me. You see, I have been writing in my dreams, splendid
openers, delectable bodies and edgy conclusions that are not necessarily an anticlimax.
Sadly, most of my stories never see the light of day. They are decoded but
never encoded (Whatever! Whichever comes first). A while back when I used to love reading,
an author told his audience that in the interest of retaining those abrupt
thoughts, you always need a small notebook to pen down the thought because you
can easily forget if you try to recall later. It’s true because all I had mused
over, contemplating to write here has failed to summon up.
Back
in the days when I had a smartphone, I would do that with ease, occasionally when
I felt like. Thus, the writing app that I have forgotten the name became my
notebook. I would scribe down the thoughts and wait for a time they would be
relevant on this blog because my social media platforms are as barren as the
ideas that sometimes never see the light of day in my writing. One day, when I
grow up, I will be courageous enough to introduce guys to my ‘illegible prose’.
When am sure that I have come of age. When I have money, and am independent and
can be able to promote the blog on two serious social media platforms with
financial ease.
The
worst form of indiscipline that will eventually wreck my desired career is procrastination.
By now, I should have got the result of a certain application I was making
online whether I was to go to the next stage or not. I procrastinated a lot never
did the second stage which had a timeline of the online application having
finished the first. I did simulations of what I was expected to do, failed
lugubriously and got discouraged. I ended up blowing the chance, the only one that I
had in probably being a better paid proletariat. Hey, it’s never that serious,
right?
My
current employer also invited me for training to supplement the few skills to
reduce on uncertainty when there was paucity of tasks online. I am currently
doing what I came to learn are called secondary skills and men, it’s a hustle.
I think, I probably went low on confidence, and when I was finally assessed for
the task, a primary skill that has continuous workflow, I failed to reach the
pass mark. Like the job I had applied for, there was the training bit before
finally doing the final assessment that is graded. I flopped and am now thing
of retaking the exam. I don’t know when but I will retake it, another episode
of derailing from the norm.
The
worst of it all is starting to write, then, in the middle of the collating
those thoughts into a seamless flow, an imp comes, tells me to visit the net to
find out what others are saying about what I am writing. Obviously, I should do
this before I start writing, steal a few phrases and lurid thoughts here and
there before I can finally put down my rumination on paper. Folks, I swear I am
the reckless type who writes and when I feel like I need a certain phrase, I
switch tabs to Google, then searches till I find something I wanted or next to what
I wanted.
That
boils down to the fact that I rarely have all words as my own, it’s natural if
you are not a fulltime pen pusher. I search and get befitting thoughts from
various sites online and to be true to myself, I steel some with no reference,
in a nutshell, I am a sentences thief. And that is a plausible reason why my
cogency is at stake given those two guys I have intimated about earlier could
not comprehend what I was annulling at. Which is bad, bad because a writer should
be understood at the first glance failure of which you risk losing an audience.
Looking
at my fingers, there is dirt under the fingernails and this grey gunk is making
me feel like I have turned into a skunk. Some guy wrote online that those stuff are keratin
debris that should not worry you because they are ‘pretty harmless’, but who
knows. Not that I am normally dirty, it’s
only that I love keeping my nails short to reduce the hatred I have for crap
under my fingernails. Boy, I love my nails short, but the nail cutter I have
that is almost celebrating its fourth year is not doing me any justice. It has
become hell of a blunt cutter but I rarely buy nail cutters, and if I do, they
get stolen or go misplaced. Luckily, this one has survived that long because I normally
hide it inside my hanged coat once I have finished using it.
My
neighbor is one crazy chap. I have a love hate relationship with his free Wi-Fi.
Browsing through the net, I realized that Wi-Fi is probably not the abbreviation
for ‘wireless fidelity’ as some chap tried to argue. BS. Apparently, this neighbor only feels like he
should put the Wi-Fi on when he is feeling like and not when I need it. As
opposed to a certain burger who wanted to hack into the neighbor’s free Wi-Fi on
his android phone and he got a just answer on Quora, I managed to find the
password to their free Wi-Fi when someone ‘accidently’ logged into a gadget
that I use and I realized it saved the password. And because we have not
renewed our own subscription on this end, I normally creep on it when I want to
access the net. Cost cutting measures unorthodoxically, but do I say.
The
other day while working, I was about to enter the submit button and when I
checked down on the network signal, I saw five empty bars looking at me given
that the network had shown remiss moments before, which I had overlooked. Of
course, I had been saying, “I will buy airtime to counter the likelihood of
lost Wi-Fi to take advantage of my modem.” That only happened happened when
shit came to shove and I had to wake up very early probably being the first guy
in the neighborhood kiosk. Yenyewe, kutegemea vya bure ni kutupa mbao.
Talking
of free things, I have postponed finishing online courses that I should have
finished by now because they are free. As such, we should hate free things reason being they are free. And
we should hate free things with the contempt it deserves because they are not worth the much. Free things more often than not abridge the quality of what we want. They also make us lazy. They induce the 'mbekho' mentality, reduce the incentive the donor affords and encourage lethargy among us. On my part, I seriously need deliverance
and cure from free things. Do you?
Hasta
la vista baby.
P/S:
If only it was free wifey. And I will reward myself when I manage to stick to a rote for even a month.
[Picture
source: Google Images]
