A good week to everybody. I hope everyone had a wonderful easter weekend. I know I did.
No, mine wasn’t that spectacular but I always make it a point of duty to go visiting my aunts or my married friends to go and stuff myself silly with their food. It’s always begins with the traditional admonishments where I’m mildly chided for not keeping in contact with the family, how much the kids miss me and should I begin playing with the kids, the wistful looks on the mothers’ eyes before they begin telling me about the way kids take to me and how I’d make the best father. Maybe that’s why I always, initially, am reluctant to make friends with children; I fear that that they are a constant reminder of a world I’m steadily and inextricably drawn towards. Okay this is getting boring and I’m beginning to worry that I’m starting to become uncomfortable with the surreal messages my subconscious is surreptitiously passing on to me.
I’m not sure what I want to write about today – matter of fact, I do not have anything to talk about today which almost made me depressed because of the incredible reception I got from last week’s post. Lol. Goes to show that it does pay to run starkers in public once in a while. Thanks guys! Oh, and to the anonymous commentator who wondered if I would ever write about my loved ones’ reactions to my love scenes, I would respectfully refer him/her to a previous article of mine on the same subject: http://kaluikeagwu.blogspot.com/2009/04/yes-to-quality.html
Wow! I’ve been on this blog for over a year now! I can’t believe I’ve lasted this long. I think I ran out of steam within the first month of writing my posts; it increasingly began to dawn on me that I may not be able to sustain the tempo and quality of the writing I began putting out. I had begun by writing about things I observed day by day, about heartfelt issues and to live up to expectations I could see myself starting to be pushed towards appearing to be caring, intellectual at all costs. It was then that I realised one of the most important assets an artist or writer could have – those little insecurities that tug at our souls, telling us we can’t do it, to try something safe and obscure so we wouldn’t fall too hard when we eventually do. Thing is, the stupid little mites don’t know they can be used by us to our advantage. I decided to write about my insecurities when I felt low or inadequate, knowing that someone somewhere would feel the same way I did and would identify with the way I felt; and even if no one did feel the way I did, at least I’d be showing my real self – no pretences, or at least if they are, they wouldn’t be significant enough to label me a cad.
Alright I think I’ve blabbed enough about nothing but I do feel good about it. Sometimes friends don’t need talk and noise to fill up the silence between them but need toi, at these times, listen to each others’ thoughts in the serenity of the silence. Have a great week everyone and I love you all!