Tough times

Maintaining this little shamba of mine is taking its toll on me. I am doing this post just to tell whoever cares to notice that it is getting more difficult to write something, here. I used to have myriads of ideas to write before I instituted this blog. And they decided to vanish. Am getting some consolation by the fact that all things are in a contraction mode these days….purchasing power, MPs brains, value of the shilling, food in the country…etc. It is more difficult to come up with a post especially if your pockets are next to empty and there is no feasible sign of a refilling mechanism for you. This is a big problem for most people in my situation (recently from college). This big brother called HELB taught me bad manners. I was used to the fact that at some period around August my bank account could suddenly be bloated, albeit marginally, with God-sent cash. I demand retirement benefits from HELB! They can’t just abandon me like that at once…*end of rant*

I am getting apprensive of the increase in page views at the moment when writer’s block is setting in. It is even terrifying thinking that there might be someone out there always looking forward to a post from me. I am not saying that it is wrong to find these posts worth your time. I may not be able to churn entrancing posts consistently while ensuring they are painted with wit. This is why. I am a dull person. Feel free to add lackluster as my middle name. Apart from regular fights with flies and mosquitoes, nothing much goes around in my world. My heart beat rate is always normal. I was thinking of jumping in front of a moving truck then I figured it might be carrying relief food for the Turkana guys. They do not need delays at the moment. So I stopped. Sometimes it sucks not to be born in a Kirima-like family where you are allowed to slur your sister. Or just insult anybody, or punch somebody in the space between the nose and mouth. And then run away to Daadab or South Sudan with your girlfriend and a bag of American dolla$. You see I cannot start insulting a person without some wrong thing done against me. Nobody koseas me. Am that good. And it sucks sometimes.

In a bid to chase paper, I enrolled as an online writer. Here am required to write essays, research papers, proposals and other assignments for affluent and dumb American kids on demand for a fee. It sounds so exhilarating till you actually start writing. Just imagine sitting for your worst exam brusquely and you will get what I am going through. Then there are those times when a grumbling customer refers you to your work citing some discontent. That’s where you learn words like ‘babbling’. The guy will tell you to improve on ‘grammer’. It’s so unfair that one cannot stretch over and punch the space between his/her nose and mouth and then run away to Daadab or South Sudan with your girlfriend and a bag of American dolla$. The unpredictable nature of the orders just sickens me. An order will be sent when you are in a matatu to town. This is certainly not the way to illumine my life. After several plagiarism-free pages, my life is as dull as it was. I might as well take my friend Funk’s advice of getting laid…and writing it in the next post, huh?

Boom box playlist:

Going through changes – Eminem.