It's 2 in the AM

There's just something about these so called ungodly hours:when all's quiet bar the occasional dog barking or cat soliciting coitus. Such pristine silence and calm, in a perfect world, should beget clarity and purity of thought albeit the only perfect thing about this ours is the sphere it's packaged in.

Many a night owl, myself included, toy oh so seductively with the aforementioned illusion. In lieu of perfect peace of body and mind, what we get is an absolute avalanche of unending self introspection that is more often than not of negative nature.

How I like to put it is a replay of all your greatest mistakes and regrets, in 4k, while strapped to the insanely uncomfortable cinema chair. It practically is your own brain calling you a loser and  flipping you the bird for good measure.

The worst battles are your very own battles. That constant struggle to be better all the while convincing yourself you're still good enough and it certainly doesn't help receiving that 2AM text message from your brain: Queen gave us Bohemian Rhapsody, I give you March 11 last year, you failed a job interview, ha ha you suck! 

Unlike your toxic ex, you cannot hit the block button or simply add to spam and you have to bear the brunt of it all, encompassed in the defeaning 2AM silence with your only company being the one thing you cannot escape, your now very loud thoughts.

So how do I rid myself of myself? Well, I did not receive a manual on that and if I did, I was not paying attention in the slightest.

Perhaps what can keep you going and content with thyself is something Ernest Hemingway said: true nobility comes from being better than your former self: as long as you're better than you were on March 11, sorry self destructive thoughts but Iam not boarding!!


With love,

_storyteller

Ps:Please get some shut-eye


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Mortality Paradox

I recently came across a tweet that said the saddest part about life is: ‘all this, just to die’ and as absurdly morbid as it sounds, you can take that to the bank. Its face value is exactly that: whatever life you lead, however lavish, however desolate, the endgame is one.  It indeed is profoundly sad to think you could land the job of your dreams, scholarship of your dreams and not even wake up tomorrow. All you worked for, all you prayed and hoped for finally fulfilled and life or death I should say, excuse the pun, just takes it all away before it's even yours.  It really is truly tragic and insurmountably terrifying how cruel life can be in that regard which indeed does beg the question, all this for what? Oh how I wish I had the answer to that but I haven't got a clue and if I had a sit-down with our maker before my time, that'd be my first question.  Steve Jobs said something about living everyday like it's your last because one day you'll be right and my wor...
Read more

The Sometimes Futile Pursuit of Happiness

It is utterly impossible to disregard aforementioned title I know, and as depressing as it sounds, said pursuit sometimes proves me right plenty.  Overlooking the morbidity, I do drive a solid point or two I believe. To begin with, what really is happiness? Well, happiness is entirely case dependent, at least in my opinion. Here's what I mean, for some happiness is spouse, kids and lots of grandkids, for others happiness means something in the lines of top 30 under 30, CEO of a Fortune 500, something in those lines.  Only things that's standard is the the journey towards what happiness means to you. Having that one girl you want who's right there but just can't get her and having that big promotion just out of reach does hurt all the same. It's like dangling a steaming tomahawk steak in the face of a  former grill chef turned vegetarian. It all begs the question what to do to be happy? Well, I suppose this question is better posed at Yoda or a magic 8 ball.  Everyth...
Read more

Home time

It's close of business again, well, a little past close of business and I'm on my way home. Fresh out of a 12-hour shift, I can't decide if I'll eat first when I get home or just collapse into slumber right at the door. In the matatu, I could swear everyone is deliberating the very same decision Iam. Soft music plays on classic FM as if trying to remedy our tired bodies and mind. Just about everyone is on their phones. If I listen intently enough, I can almost hear the pitter patter of their thumbs going at it with the keyboard. In essence, everyone is in their own little world, only brought back to this realm by the conductor demanding his due. He passes around a tiny piece of paper with his mpesa number on it and we, who are cashless, calmly wait for our turn. After confirming the mpesa receiver's name, everyone runs back to their screens but not without throwing a pitiful glance at the long, long chain of cars also called Thika road. Iam not a mind reader but I ...
Read more