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As I sat down to a cup of tea this morning, I let the steamy liquid condense into vapour droplets at the tip of my nose, as I took time to sniff my insecurities. I did not pour libation to my ancestors like my grand fathers did instead, I devoted the meal to pondering about my life and invoked on my inner self to give my frail heart courage. My life was stuck in a labyrinth of systems. A maze similar to the one in the “perfume: Story of a murderer” movie where a virgin girl is lost in it and murdered for her scent, comes to mind. It’s the kind I can’t wrap my mind around and I fear that if I don’t find myself soon, I could be abducted by some form of lunacy.

As usual, my mind always tries to strip naked in the presence of some inspiration. In pondering about my life, I shifted from the dining table to my room laptop where I impatiently started typing away. Drunkards will tell you that you will always find an answer at the bottom of the bottle, my poison of choice is the written word from a mind bursting with ideas, prose and grammatical formats, hopefully if I indulge in just enough of this sanity, therein will lay my much sought answers and resolutions.

I have known two matters that have always taken precedence regardless of what I was doing at the moment: A good string of inspiration for a piece of writing and a call of nature, all the rest can wait including the clothes that need drying, the dishes that need washing and the poor plants that might just miss their timely watering. In the string of the moment, I realized there were two questions little children could give better answers than I would, the questions were: Who are you? And where are you going?

A person I consider a friend once told me that I could either learn from other people’s mistakes or my own and looking around there were enough mistakes to go round. There were people who were proud to a fault and never saw the folly of their errors, and then there were “over grown” men still chilling at their folks place, no vision but just lots of weed to puff when the sun goes down. More often than not, they were also the self appointed tax collectors of the Otiende estate who randomly asked for loose change to buy lethal spirits for ingestion to further reduce the number of their functional organs.

So who was I? And where was I going? A younger version of me, much sure of himself would have given a mind blowing answer and I hope a slightly older version would not only give such an answer but be its very embodiment. The more I grew older the more realities I came across that made me less of a dreamer, something was terribly wrong and I needed to revisit the priorities I had set in life. If a truth, was rightfully so wouldn’t it mean that it would forever be? Why was it that as I grew truths seemed to bend, while others lost their value altogether?

The realization of self

I finally came to the realization that certain truths apply at different points in life, to different people for different reasons. As much as our priorities, tastes and preferences shift, the self should become more authentic day by day and in so, we should become more and more of what we want to be.

I further realized that some of the most successful people in the world have a multifaceted career, limiting oneself to one line of productivity in life, is so much a waste of potential.

Why couldn’t I be a writer, model, media professional, philanthropist and a teacher at the same time? I must accept that the last bit was never part of my dream, but I realize that I may need to do it, so as to support my other passions. I look forward to teaching a subject I would enjoy, the English language perhaps. In order to be all the above, I will rely on a lot of accountability on my part and a series of self assessments to help shape truths and get rid of false notions. Readers, I just got to the bottom of my bottle, I got my answers, but we all know the truth of the pudding is in the eating. I will now put my thinking cap on and hope to join you during my next refill. Thanks for the company readers!