Kill your Darling

The quickest way to self-destruct is to give up on life and take no action regarding your prospects. That does not mean you will always be feeling despondent and indolent. Situations arise where responsibility forces you to forfeit and take the bull by its horns as much as you may not want to. The experiences we encounter are many and it is the most recent epic episode that remains in our mind that we keep on narrating. It ends up being a tedious story that is banal and lackluster. Once you realize that what you are saying sounds cliche and the listener has an idea of what you will say next, then it makes sense to cut it. 

Uber drivers have so many stories to tell if you engage them. Chaps like us do not know how to break the ice and I wait for the man behind the wheels to look at me and start a conversation. One cab driver who used to ply his trade at night used to harangue at the plight of the country's state and had an idea of just everything. Those were the days when online hailing cabs were not available at our arms disposal. The man would be high on khat and it made him talk as if the words he was narrating were having no end.

The bottom line is that if you engage a person, there is a possibility he will recount a certain hackneyed story that he normally repeats to his audience because it is what makes sense. The reason I love cabs is because there is never the same story you will experience with the same driver. What some of these drivers have seen, what they have heard, the scents and odors they have had to endure. They have a view of the past, present, and future. This may not be fixed into a shape when you look at it. But the signal from perceiving life through the three dimensions is a triangle of sorts.

A cab driver once told me that he used to work as a bike rider in one of the Arabian countries and ended up learning Arabic. The job was lucrative but he felt like the environment was not conducive to his stay because when it became excessively hot, he could not do errands he wanted to do. His eyes were now set on going to Eastern Europe to be a truck driver then slowly finding his way to the heart of mainland Europe.

Another recently told me that he has since accepted that sex will still take place in your cab whether you like it or not. Especially when you work at night when revelers are from having fun at night. He said that there are men who get inebriated at night and will offer you good pay to have the act with a lady in your car as you drive along. Some just do it because they are horny and some ladies even seduce you but you have to maintain that you are in business. The majority of ladies he took to destinations where an imposing SUV was waiting on the other end were girls in their early twenties or late teenage years. The ones who want a fast life. A man promises to give her twenty bob, (bob is slang for a thousand), and she is ready to do everything for the few hours they will be together.

She took a broken wine glass and started cutting her left arm deep enough to see white tissue and the skin separated. A stream of blood started flowing from her slit arm to the table and then down onto the floor. She had soft hands that looked tender and light in complexion. The people around looked with their faces blanched from shock. People will look at you harming yourself and do nothing. Standing in front of her, I took hold of the hand that held the broken glass before she good do any more harm because the scene was covered in blood. 

Bouncers were called to come and contain her because she was nervous and restless. She was a petite university student who seemed to fear what the future held. She kept on insisting that someone should hold her hand and when she had no one do that, she reached the broken glass and started harming herself with stabs that gorged deep. Only when blood started flowing did I realize that she saw what she had done that I managed to also come to my senses and forcibly prevent her from further self-inflicted injury. After the act, her voice was low and hoarse with exhaustion. The blood looked red on the floor and table. We moved to another table. What a night to behold.

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Monkeys on Typewriters

The ability to articulate thoughts clearly and effortlessly can often be misconstrued as a sign of factual knowledge or sound intelligence. As usual, we have flaws in our mechanisms of perception. Similarly, if you take a couple of monkeys and put them behind a typewriter, there is a high possibility that one might hit the keys and accidentally compose a masterpiece akin to a Shakespearean sonnet. However, the probability of the same monkey replicating this feat is ridiculously slim. This is known as the infinite monkey theorem: it is a rare but possible outcome driven by randomness that is not easily reproducible.

The tendency to underestimate the role of routine and discipline in achieving success is what I want to address. We are naturally inclined to resist obligations that demand physical effort, even though it is essential to pursue responsibilities without feeling coerced. An occasional blip is believing a certain level of comfort guarantees everything will align with our aspirations, and then it will be a happily ever after affair. However, when you don't ace it, you become nervous and show signs of battle fatigue, which becomes evident in your general mien. Eventually, you retreat and vamoose into the oblivion of yore.

Let's face it, nobody wants to burn out, yet the hustle culture is a relentless grind that we cannot avoid. What is sensible is to take time off and find your footing. Before you become successful, there is so much that is involved. It is a complex journey. Sometimes, you may have to take time off and hibernate for a while to find the drive to reignite your ambition. If you're to engage in a demanding process, then dive into the rigor wholeheartedly. Ultimately, gain invaluable insights from the experience.

Which is better; small losses that are succeeded by larger payoffs, achieved through preparation and readiness, or large losses that suddenly strike due to failure to take precautionary measures though glaring and leave you in a state of shellshock? Regrettably, we want to look the part but when it comes to doing the dirt, that is where we draw the line. Take coding mastery, for example, many have the ambition, yet few exhibit the discipline for the deep work required for excellence. You become blind or foolish to see the fact that to succeed, it is small, consistent wins that snowball into big results. You believe that you can ace a one-way route to perfection by being mediocre. When you neglect the fundamentals and fail to embrace the grind you may end up vanishing completely or become a struggling middlebrow.  

We are structured in such a way that we tend to avoid exposure to events that bring harm our way as a risk remediation strategy. That's why we adopt a defensive approach aimed at doing what is self-effacing. Why go the extra mile to be flagrant and obtrusive? Is it even worth the mental torture? If there is none, you remain discreet in your tracks. The desire to disrupt is not ingrained in many of us, even if it is, the strategy and the mental capacity to withstand the spikes and large consequences is inherently devoid in our spirit. 

Our instinct is to steer clear of situations that may expose us to harm as a risk remediation strategy. This is why we often adopt a modest, defensive approach focused on being self-effacing, hence prioritizing safety over boldness. There is little to gain from being flagrant and obtrusive—why endure the psychological strain? In the absence of compelling reasons, it's wiser to maintain a low profile. While the urge to shake things up isn't common among us, even those who possess it may lack the strategic thinking and emotional resilience required to handle and withstand the spikes and large consequences that can follow.

My mantra in life at the moment is to ensure I create quality content that has a small probability of being of high appeal. This conviction has led me to embrace the philosophy that crafting 800-1000 words is the sweet spot for my blogging adventure. I eschew the reliance on vague impressions for the sake of it. Extrapolating the cogency of what I am supposed to pen down for no apparent reason. Previously, I've mentioned that writing 800 words can be a 30-minute affair, but this rhythm is tested when it becomes a weekly commitment. It's easier said than sighting a black swan. Even if you ventured to Australia, hoping to see these elusive and majestic birds with their S-shaped necks, honking and trumpeting while gliding gracefully and unfurling their jet-black wings, you realize such encounters are rare.

My modus operandi has since changed regarding how to approach blogging.  I acknowledge my humanity and if I could have satiated my peche mignon of authoring, though abstruse at the moment, the ease of turning up would not have been belabored. While my posts may seem brief, the reality is that creating and refining content into something coherent and engaging can be incredibly time-consuming. It requires thorough contemplation, identifying gaps, and the coupling link. This process demands discipline, sacrifice, and a rigorous effort aimed at consistency. 

Preparing an 800-word article for publication might look like a molehill, but it quickly escalates to a daunting task akin to climbing Mt. Everest. Kudos to all the authors who effortlessly let their ideas flow from behind the screen because of furtive foreshadowing. Those who seamlessly weave their narratives, harmonizing rich, symbolic language with lyrical beauty, and ignite passion that 'strike like pebbles fetched from a brook.'

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A Chance, Kidney and Success

Most of us live in the musty footnotes of history. You exit the stage and become a bygone. You swiftly blend into a statistic, lost in the vast sea of data, irretrievable, and anonymous. In contrast, it is easy to pinpoint a heroic individual. That one person who never gets relegated to the dusty annals of history. His deeds are legendary and leave an indelible mark deeply felt and etched at the back of our minds. He leaves behind a rich legacy that lingers persistently in our consciousness, a testament to his unforgettable character. With his unique flair and charisma, he captivates us effortlessly. This person could be a speaker who made you laugh or moved you to tears, or a figure from a book, like Napoleon or Alexander the Great, whose influence remains vivid and unforgettable.

He is calm and measured, avoiding the explosive temper and hyperaggressive demeanor that can make those around him anxious. He makes you feel at ease, fostering a sense of tranquility that enhances conversational engagement, and his articulate, succinct speech makes you an excellent listener. He instills a sense of safety, making you comfortable enough to openly share your secrets without fear of future repercussions. He embodies the adage, "Heroes are celebrated for their heroic deeds, not for their victories or defeats." Despite a potentially tarnished reputation as a philanderer, when he sets his mind on something, he achieves it with remarkable success.

As you trudge through the journey of life, remember: "That which came with the help of luck will be taken away by luck." If you've ever read about lottery winners, you'll notice a common trait among them. Their newfound wealth is often rapidly and unexpectedly squandered because they tend to take excessive risks and make poor decisions associated with gambling. They are bereft of knowledge to steward their sudden windfall, leading them to splurge under a numbing false sense of security. Such an individual does not observe the barrel of reality regarding the fleeting nature of wealth. Easy come, easy go.

In a civilized society, there are many avenues for putting your megamillions into good use. An individual who has won 100 million overnight, probably after two years of betting, may consider himself a successful gambler. Ideally, this may distort your perception as it is not the reality of your prowess. It is a mistaken belief. When you cast a bet, there is a way it corrupts your mind. You think you are a winner and good strategist when in reality, it might just be a result of a stochastic process. Unlike Russian Roulette, which offers a 5/6 chance of survival, or a single football match with a 1/3 chance of predicting the outcome correctly, most gambling scenarios are unpredictable. A deep understanding of Monte Carlo methods is crucial to astutely making precise calculations, navigating the probabilities, mastering the odds, and determining an ideal bet size that wins when you wager.

The route less traveled is the lengthy and reliable one, yet the allure of shortcuts often overshadows this more secure path. We are conditioned to believe that the more perilous and treacherous the journey, the easier it is to achieve success. If you couple this with reducing the number of steps beyond the norm, you might be hailed as a genius. Consider the stark difference between a dentist and a gambler in how they make money. The dentist earns his wealth through a diligent and skillful process, drilling people's teeth and relying on his expertise and the location of his clinic. If a gambler and a dentist both have a similar amount of money, they might seem equally rich on paper. However, we often overlook the process behind their wealth. The dentist's earnings come from hard work and skill, while the gambler's fortune is through the whims of chance.

The dentist's wealth is the culmination of years of diligent study, perfecting his craft, and building a customer base. In the realm of finance, having a loyal customer base adds significant value to an entity's net worth. The wealth the dentist has accumulated is not dependent on randomness like that of the gambler. It is qualitatively different, reflecting years of sustained effort and experience. It is not a fragile glass house that shatters with a single stone. In contrast, the gambler's newfound fortune is akin to a precarious stack of cards, which can tumble from the slightest disturbance, since it lacks a solid base. Nowadays, gamblers are often euphemistically referred to as 'investors,' but the underlying reality of their wealth remains dicey.

A dentist possesses a strong work ethic, modus operandi, and stability. He probably has a dull career and is the epitome of the suburban family man. Still, he surprises you with the intellectual depth and sharpness of mind akin to an aerobics instructor. Aside from the millions in accumulated savings, his investment portfolio likely includes treasury bonds, bills, real estate, and a diverse range of stocks that yield steady income. Furthermore, he seeks advice from tax experts, estate lawyers, and reputable individuals of robust intellectual energy. The idea is to safeguard accumulated wealth from natural uncertainties and the potential depletion of assets. After all, there are countless ways to deplete funds compared to the avenues available for generating it.

On the other hand, the gambler may indulge in extravagance, misled by an illusion of stability. Driven by a desire to flaunt his newfound fortune, he might move to a wealthy neighborhood and expect admiration for his rags-to-riches story. In the gambling arena, they may perceive themselves as smart, but they are passé. He may adopt hobbies like wine collecting and listening to jazz music, believing they reflect his newfound sophistication. Soon, the gambler develops a 'refined' taste, fantasizing about exotic locations, seeking admiration from superficial sources like fatuous journalists, and imagining himself on the Forbes list of top billionaires.

However, the gambler remains unaware of the ignoble risk he's taking—the risk of losing everything. He might even leave his wife for an Instagram commercial model who fits into his new high-status way of living, abandoning a relationship deemed too ordinary and human amid his desire for a more glamorous lifestyle.

Hasta La Vista, Baby.

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Indisposed

About this season, there inevitably comes a point when you find yourself feeling under the weather, often without any prior planning or anticipation. You normally expect you will be as fit as fiddle and not even the slightest notion of dizziness crosses your mind. On occasion, you might wake up with a slight tickle in the throat, which often heralds the onset of something like a common cold. It's your body's early warning system, suggesting that it's time to take some extra care of yourself, perhaps indulging in warm gingered tea and ample rest, to ward off the impending sniffles and sneezes. 

If you know how to deal with the precursor, you nip it in the bud before it escalates and manifests in your entire body. For instance, you may take lozenges if you notice a subtle scratchiness in your vocal cords before it develops into a sore throat. If left unchecked, you end up catching a bug whose origin is uncertain, given the multitude of people we encounter daily. Suddenly, you find that you are not 100%. While it may not be a definitive sign of illness, it is a good indicator that your immune system is gearing up for a fight. Being aware of these signals puts you in a better position to timely take action to maintain your health.

Some people opt for a cautious approach, taking the physician's route, while others adopt a more laissez-faire attitude, hoping their bodies will acclimate. Regardless of whether you have insurance coverage or not, it's wise to consult a healthcare professional. An initial remedy may be to lie low and focus on getting better; this advice often slips your mind, or you may be unaware of it. It's important to remember that taking time to rest and heal is not just beneficial but necessary for speedy recovery.

While it is a smart move to take time off to rest and consult a doctor if symptoms persist, the folly in you may delay seeking medical attention until the situation worsens. Some may even turn to traditional remedies, such as herbalists, or home remedies, like Mwarubaini, to boost our immune system. Mwarubaini, for instance, is known to be effective for common colds when dissolved in hot water and inhaled as steam, aiding in the expulsion of pathogens from the body. Although I've never tried it myself, I recall my mother administering a similar remedy called 'yath afita' during my childhood. It was a pungent concoction that would not only make me sneeze but help clear out any congestion in the nasal passages.

This past week, I began to notice symptoms of an impending illness. It started with a dry throat, a sensation that seemed to loom in the distance and left me a bit uneasy. Soon after,  my stomach started feeling a little bit off. Then a bloated sensation crept in and I thought some over-the-counter drugs would work. Hoping to alleviate these symptoms, I opted for Eno. As the weather turned colder, I found myself battling a fever, compounded by a loss of appetite. Some fevers have a way of laying you down. They invade like a fierce toro bravo charging towards a matador in a bullring with magenta and gold capote as the only weapon for protection. The way the bull is bred, its aggression is matched only by its formidable physique. It is swift, nimble, and agile. And trained to target the matador who must expertly dodge the bull's horns and outmaneuver the charging beast.

The bull analogy may not be flawless, but it underscores a crucial correlation. Just as the bull charges into the ring, unpredictable and potent, illness can strike unexpectedly, leaving one vulnerable and unprepared. When interacting with others during this season, the risk of infection looms, especially in social settings where contact is prolonged. The virus, much like the charging bull, maybe in its final stages of exiting from its host's body. Without taking proper preventive measures, one becomes susceptible to its impact as it lodges itself in the immune system, ready to wreak havoc.

After a while, if your body does not succumb to indisposition and you are bedridden, you always can go back to what you do best. Health is wealth and it should be safeguarded with utmost discretion. The same way that the secret service guards the POTUS with ironclad vigilance.  If you feel like you need attention, don't hesitate to visit a health center with qualified and certified medics who can check, diagnose, and recommend some medication to improve your health. On the other hand, some individuals rarely fall ill due to their dominant and allele genes. You rarely hear that they called in sick; that's just about them. 

Hasta La Vista, Baby.

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Let's Try Again

You are enveloped in the comfort of your bed; the ebbs and flows of a neon-pink vision dance in the darkness behind your closed eyes. How this color subtly flutters within your thoughts, almost imperceptibly, is beyond your cognition. It should symbolize fun moments, pleasant things, exquisite modernity, and a feminine touch. Are butterflies neon pink? Don't they spread their wide wings and appear like bright petals in mental imagery? It turns out, the neon pink glow emanating from the bedside table was responsible for casting the room in a mesmerizing iridescence.

It's five am, the moonlight filters through the curtains. The morning breeze feels wonderfully cool, just as it ought to. Normally, you do not need an alarm. Your sleep flow is like a tidal pattern, and the body instinctively senses the tide change in sleep. On this particular day, the eyelids droop heavily, the back aches, and you try to recall parts of the vivid hue that soaked you in a wet dream.

You want to eject out of bed like a videotape, which is then tenderly encased and stored for a nostalgic replay. But you are human, this time around, too groggy, too sore. You are not used to this, the visual puns and metaphor. A defeatist mindset leaves a desire to continue hugging the warm and soft duvet and imbue a sense of rest, curled up as happy as a cat snuggling. The mind is slow and turns leisurely like a beautiful carousel between the moments of sleep and wakefulness. It gradually shifts gears, from first to second then to a gentle third. There is no launch control to thrust you into swift action.

This is the day you wake up and suddenly the creators block attacks akin to the force of a Spartan spear. You toss and turn in bed and ponder what to scribe, but the artiste in you, born to defeat the forces of malevolent dullness with the sword of sensual creativity, fails in connotations. As a living thing, you want to scamper and scramble out of this fantastic cemetery with bits of skeletons and skulls pulling you invisibly as if in a horror movie. This is the day you wake up with a shuddering yawn. You lazily switch on the lights and an apprehensive moment ensues. It was meant to be a typical day, filled with the usual playfulness and energy, yet somehow inspiration seemed elusive, hiding just out of reach.

It feels quiet at first, then you hear the whispers of the wind awakening the world, and the vicious hiss out of nowhere creates a careless bliss. This is a paradise for those who have known hard times. This is the city of rootless survival and restless vile. It struggles to keep desperate folks from jumping to their deaths from the top of unguarded apartments that kiss the polluted skyline. It kills ambitions and creates a night that is full of light. Soon, sunshine will maul darkness and violently scatter the moon's reflection. A day like this should feel fresh like chopped liver and peaceful like a tonsured priest at the altar. 

Gathering the little meaningful effort you have, you draw aside one curtain, open the wide window, and look out across to see nothing but a concrete jungle. Unusual as it is, you strip off the pajamas, go to the bathroom, and stand naked under the cold shower for a few minutes. This is to invigorate the peptic glide, to awaken the sluggish rhythm of life within. Afterward, you clean your teeth and gargle the sharp mouthwash to get rid of the bad lingering aftertaste of the night from your mouth. An hour later, you are still in your seat, mulling about what to compose. You have reached a tacit kibosh. Even if you try to come up with incidental or indecorous images that imprint themselves scaldingly on the mind's eye, the ruin is yonder. It is a time to undergo the process of a “cleansing breath.”

Efforts to think clearly, express meaning, and join the journey of discovery, seem futile. Upon reviewing the initial pedagogy of your script, there is an urge to consign it into flames, incinerate it to ashes, and banish it from existence. Nothingness lingers in the mind. Impossible it is to ripple into action again. With the incredible refusal of inertia, you put your nose to the grindstone, but risk confusing yourself with a fatal flow. What could have been left to rest turns into gibberish. A nervous giggle rents the air and pierces the cozy silence, “Poor Anan, come back to bed.” It's the dystopian voice of a lady. Reverberating and giving the illusion that her thighs will offer the solution to your sere and emphatic struggle to improve your prose in a flash.

“This will be a page-turner that lures you into the contours of asphyxiation. Trust the process and let the world accord you your roses, hazin accolades deserved.” You self console. You want to heed her advice. It's like a cliffhanger that leaves you contemplating. Should I go back and savor the warmth of the bed and a seductive and sensuous temptress, or should I just brave the situation and resist the temptation of fleeting pleasure? As always, the flesh is weak. When faced with a choice between two divergent paths, it's human nature to opt for the path that is familiar and promises an instant reward. 

Hasta La Vista, Baby.

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