I might just be able to keep on blogging well after I have been dismissed from my job. I have enabled my phone so that I can send blogs through it. Maybe my blogs then will be more interesting as I relate how my job search will be going-assuming I will be able to afford the airtime credit. Anywho, that aside.
I recently read two of Paulo Coelho's books 'Like the flowing river' and 'The Zahir'. They really touched me. I have read a number of his books before and the one that touched me the most was 'Veronica decides to die' followed by 'The Zahir'. These two books had an impact on me because I can directly relate to them. Ever since I can remember I have wanted to be 'mad', a subject the two books talk about. I have always wanted to do things differently, you know, veer off the road and go wandering into the bush. Why? Because I believe we were not created to be automatons. Life is short and too important for me to live my life doing what other people have done simply because the damn society dictates that that is what I should do!
Think about it, really think about it. Most of what we do, we do because that is what has been done by those who have precceded us. Can you imagine what the world would be like now if all the inventers had never thought of veering from the beaten track. We would still be using horns and smoke (which are discoveries actually) to communicate!
I believe we are all meant to leave a mark. To do something different, somehing unique. That is why I choose the path of madness.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Afraid
I am scared shitless!!
For the past two years, I have worked in the publishing industry as an editor. As chronicled in my last blog. Am being laid off.
The normal thing would be for me to apply for jobs in other publishing firms. You know, keep to what I have gained experience in. I am not getting any younger, so I need stability. All my friends are settled in in their careers. Some are getting married, others moving on up. Me, I have nothing, no one to love, no money and now no job. The safe option is to stick with publishing. But I have taken the path of madness. I am taking up a new career. Totally new.
I have decided to go into Advertising. That is what is scaring me.
I am currently swinging between believing I can hack it and fear that I have nothing new to offer so no one will want me.
I have even been toying with the idea of starting my own company, but a quick look through the directory shows there exist so many companies already!
The question I have been battling with is this-Do I really have something unique to offer or are my grand ideas nothing but the illusions of a schizophrenic mind? Am I for real or am I mad!? Am I on the right track? Is this what I should do? I wish and pray for a sign. Something to show me I am on the right path. I have nothing but a faltering conviction as my base.
I am scared. Lord, help me.
For the past two years, I have worked in the publishing industry as an editor. As chronicled in my last blog. Am being laid off.
The normal thing would be for me to apply for jobs in other publishing firms. You know, keep to what I have gained experience in. I am not getting any younger, so I need stability. All my friends are settled in in their careers. Some are getting married, others moving on up. Me, I have nothing, no one to love, no money and now no job. The safe option is to stick with publishing. But I have taken the path of madness. I am taking up a new career. Totally new.
I have decided to go into Advertising. That is what is scaring me.
I am currently swinging between believing I can hack it and fear that I have nothing new to offer so no one will want me.
I have even been toying with the idea of starting my own company, but a quick look through the directory shows there exist so many companies already!
The question I have been battling with is this-Do I really have something unique to offer or are my grand ideas nothing but the illusions of a schizophrenic mind? Am I for real or am I mad!? Am I on the right track? Is this what I should do? I wish and pray for a sign. Something to show me I am on the right path. I have nothing but a faltering conviction as my base.
I am scared. Lord, help me.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Alone
Its Valentines day today. I have no one to celebrate with, as has been the case since I was born. I used to get a little melancholy sometime back, but I am used to it now.
In the morning, I flirt a little with my ex (am not sure I can call her that because we have not yet split formaly) but she ends it when I push it a bit too far.
In the afternoon, I chat with one of my friends, I have known him since 2001. We have been close, almost like brothers. But today he has made me so mad, I am contemplating ending the friendship. For a while now, he has been insinuating that me and others have been misusing the funds of an investment club we formed. At first, I took it as a joke, but with time I have come to realise that he realy believes that we have been embezzling the funds. That has hurt me a lot. This is someone I have trusted like a brother, but now I learn that the trust was only one way. The thing is, all the members of the club, after a few investments, neglected the duties of the club. Cheques have not been followed up, contributions haven't been made, you know, general neglect. He could have asked and I would have explained this, but instead, he chose to suspect me and the others of misuse of funds. I am sad.
Last couple of days have been a revelation after another. All this time I have been backing up the wrong trees. I have trusted and invested in people who at the slightest chance cut me off. I have sacrificed so much for so many, now I realise it was all for nothing. It was a false sense of loyalty for which no one cared to enlighten me. My employers, for whom I turned down several job offers, are laying me off without batting an eye. Now my friend, someone for whom I have felt like I have known since I was born in essence calls me a thief. Other friends, now I realise, have me as a friend for the purpose of boosting their egos by putting me down.
I am feeling heady. I feel let down. I feel angry. I feel stupid. I need time off. I think I will take time off and go home (my mother's) to try and recoup. To try and open my eyes. To try and set myself straight.
I can't say I knew it
I would be lying
When I came out of my shell
I loved the caress of the sun
The feel of the rain
The touch of the wind
I loved the outside
And with time I,
became dependent
on these sensations I felt
Then, the lightning struck
It struck me down
It paralysed me
I know I could be defiant
and stay out here
But I won't
I will turn and crawl back
Into my cave
They that love me
Shall find me in my cave
I shall not venture out anymore.
In the morning, I flirt a little with my ex (am not sure I can call her that because we have not yet split formaly) but she ends it when I push it a bit too far.
In the afternoon, I chat with one of my friends, I have known him since 2001. We have been close, almost like brothers. But today he has made me so mad, I am contemplating ending the friendship. For a while now, he has been insinuating that me and others have been misusing the funds of an investment club we formed. At first, I took it as a joke, but with time I have come to realise that he realy believes that we have been embezzling the funds. That has hurt me a lot. This is someone I have trusted like a brother, but now I learn that the trust was only one way. The thing is, all the members of the club, after a few investments, neglected the duties of the club. Cheques have not been followed up, contributions haven't been made, you know, general neglect. He could have asked and I would have explained this, but instead, he chose to suspect me and the others of misuse of funds. I am sad.
Last couple of days have been a revelation after another. All this time I have been backing up the wrong trees. I have trusted and invested in people who at the slightest chance cut me off. I have sacrificed so much for so many, now I realise it was all for nothing. It was a false sense of loyalty for which no one cared to enlighten me. My employers, for whom I turned down several job offers, are laying me off without batting an eye. Now my friend, someone for whom I have felt like I have known since I was born in essence calls me a thief. Other friends, now I realise, have me as a friend for the purpose of boosting their egos by putting me down.
I am feeling heady. I feel let down. I feel angry. I feel stupid. I need time off. I think I will take time off and go home (my mother's) to try and recoup. To try and open my eyes. To try and set myself straight.
I can't say I knew it
I would be lying
When I came out of my shell
I loved the caress of the sun
The feel of the rain
The touch of the wind
I loved the outside
And with time I,
became dependent
on these sensations I felt
Then, the lightning struck
It struck me down
It paralysed me
I know I could be defiant
and stay out here
But I won't
I will turn and crawl back
Into my cave
They that love me
Shall find me in my cave
I shall not venture out anymore.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Transition
Am back again. Its been a while. And it starts with irony. Only when my arse is about to be laid off does my stupid office mac finaly accept to let me blog without issues. Sad. In a little while, if things dont go my way, I will soon not be able to blog again because I will be out of a job ergo not able to access affordable internet. But that aside.
This morning, a thought came to me. After my internship at the Nation Media Group, I told myself that I was not cut out for journalism. In that short time (3 months) I had been taught that a journalist should not have a heart. I had a heart.
I would go to murder scenes and feel like throwing up. I would go to tragic accident scenes and feel a rush of tears (which I always held back) as the dead were mourned. It was an emotional rollercoaster for me. So naturally I concluded that journalism was not meant for me.
Today, I realised I was wrong. I can be a good journalist. I can be a damn good journalist if I let my emotions free, trying to hide the emotions used to get in my way. I want to go and interview the mourning with tears in my eyes, I want to confront the unjust with anger in my breast, I want to interview the successful with admiration in my heart, I want to talk to the poor and downtrodden with empathy in my heart. I want to be like that cameraman who was crying during the funeral ceremony of the late Kijana Wamalwa.
When this thought crossed my mind, I saw the larger picture. Emotions not expressed cloud your eyes, put poison in your heart and put grand stumbling blocks in your way. It is time I let my emotions flow freely, so I can enjoy the pleasures and pain of all the emotions that run through my heart.
PS: As I was going through some of the things in my computer, I came across the poem below which I had written a while back. There are few poems of mine that I still love after they grow old. This is one of them. Enjoy.
I beat at my breast
And scream loud to the skies
Lord hear me! Lord hear me!
I have sinned against you,
But Lord do have mercy on me
Save me from my hell
It has been too long Lord
Take me out now, wash me
Cleanse me, make me fit
To dine with you
At thine heavenly table!
The Lord does not hear my cry.
I sprawl myself upon the ground
I tear away at my clothes
And scream: Lord where are you?
I have no more pretences
I lie naked in front of you
Listen to the cry of your child!
Lord where are you?
The Lord does not hear my cry.
Lord I curse your name!
If you shall not hear my cry
Then Lord hear me curse you
Take this life of mine
It is thine from the beginning
I am tortured and battered
The world has thrown me out
Lord you have thrown me out
My recourse lies in my death
Lord I curse your name
Take this life away.
The Lord hears my curse.
Child rise from the ground
You shame me so
Where is your pride, child
Where is your faith, child
You curse my name?
Have you the power?
Child, rise and be strong!
This morning, a thought came to me. After my internship at the Nation Media Group, I told myself that I was not cut out for journalism. In that short time (3 months) I had been taught that a journalist should not have a heart. I had a heart.
I would go to murder scenes and feel like throwing up. I would go to tragic accident scenes and feel a rush of tears (which I always held back) as the dead were mourned. It was an emotional rollercoaster for me. So naturally I concluded that journalism was not meant for me.
Today, I realised I was wrong. I can be a good journalist. I can be a damn good journalist if I let my emotions free, trying to hide the emotions used to get in my way. I want to go and interview the mourning with tears in my eyes, I want to confront the unjust with anger in my breast, I want to interview the successful with admiration in my heart, I want to talk to the poor and downtrodden with empathy in my heart. I want to be like that cameraman who was crying during the funeral ceremony of the late Kijana Wamalwa.
When this thought crossed my mind, I saw the larger picture. Emotions not expressed cloud your eyes, put poison in your heart and put grand stumbling blocks in your way. It is time I let my emotions flow freely, so I can enjoy the pleasures and pain of all the emotions that run through my heart.
PS: As I was going through some of the things in my computer, I came across the poem below which I had written a while back. There are few poems of mine that I still love after they grow old. This is one of them. Enjoy.
I beat at my breast
And scream loud to the skies
Lord hear me! Lord hear me!
I have sinned against you,
But Lord do have mercy on me
Save me from my hell
It has been too long Lord
Take me out now, wash me
Cleanse me, make me fit
To dine with you
At thine heavenly table!
The Lord does not hear my cry.
I sprawl myself upon the ground
I tear away at my clothes
And scream: Lord where are you?
I have no more pretences
I lie naked in front of you
Listen to the cry of your child!
Lord where are you?
The Lord does not hear my cry.
Lord I curse your name!
If you shall not hear my cry
Then Lord hear me curse you
Take this life of mine
It is thine from the beginning
I am tortured and battered
The world has thrown me out
Lord you have thrown me out
My recourse lies in my death
Lord I curse your name
Take this life away.
The Lord hears my curse.
Child rise from the ground
You shame me so
Where is your pride, child
Where is your faith, child
You curse my name?
Have you the power?
Child, rise and be strong!
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