- I’m still madandcrazy! Not as confident I used to be, wildly swimming in unchartered waters without a lifebelt, but trawling on nevertheless, LA's example an inspiration, things done changed, I tell you!
Sometimes I wonder about the direction my life is taking and if it is the right one. I know it is the right one and I have chosen it but still, some mornings, in the dark in bed, before curtain edges begin to lighten, I wonder.
I have been to the same church three times this year, each time unintentionally, though no one forcing me there. The most peaceful I have felt was walking to this church in the cold morning through the dew speckled grass and then walking back, stopping at a TOTAL petrol station to buy the day’s newspapers, a man walking home on Sunday morning after church, to see her.
I’m afraid of success. I think it will destroy me. All my life I have been trying very hard to fail. Most of the people in my life will not let me fail and have frustrated me at every turn. I'm only still coming to grips with the reality that I was born to succeed.
Aubade is my favorite poem. I hate it that Aubade is my favorite poem. I was 16 years old when I first read Aubade, a culled portion in a St. Paul Christian text book I found my eldest brother’s library cupboard. I was home alone that afternoon, waiting for the advertisements in between Neighbors to end so I could begin watching again on his 15-inch Panasonic black and white TV. I was supposed to be sick, off from school.
I constantly think about deleting this blog not because I’m tired of writing in it or I’m afraid at some future date when I’m much older, something I wrote in here maybe used against me or used to bring me down in some way but because it’s just something I have been doing for so long. I throw things away before I can care too much about them. I’m afraid I maybe losing that ability.
I’m ‘wiser’ in my writing than I am in real life. I still cannot understand how this can be. Strange. But it has helped me understand what DH Lawrence meant when he said trust the tale, not the writer.
I have been an interviewee, at least as far as I can remember, four times on radio, Countryboyi’s Campus radio interview included. The interview I enjoyed the most was Countryboyi’s in which I’m afraid I may have said a little bit more than I meant to and now he’s blackmailing me. At least once like every three months, I meet someone who says they heard me being interviewed on BBC radio, an interview I did straight off the streets into their Clement Hill Road Kampala studios. I will be interviewed on Radio Sanyu when a story I wrote in October will be running in December. I don’t know how to get out of it. I don’t want to do interviews anymore. I talk too much when someone gets me started on writing and what it means to me.
I have known since I was 12 I must be a writer.
The most important year in my life upto this moment was 2003. I met my girlfriend, Baz, Hipflaskswigger, and Undo became a very close friend. They have all radically altered my life. Undo patiently talked me into writing again after a two year hiatus in long Saturday evening walks from his hostel in Makerere Kikoni just below El Shadai, Hipflaskswigger made me finally see why my writing had stalled through many beer drinking Larkin quoting nights in a bar on Dewinton Road, Baz with pithy one liners provided the avenue, and she undamned me. She undamned me.
Tonight we will meet the first baby in my family since June 1986 when my little brother was born. I’m going to become an uncle! And my parents’ grandparents! Shit, we're getting old... You cannot even begin to imagine how excited I’m! Okay, maybe if your big brother has had his first son or daughter, then you might know. Anyway, tonight I find out if I have a niece or nephew, the littlest and newest December addition to the family. A November baby like our Dad, well now there’s a thought! Can Christmas be anymore joyful?
Can't Get My Mind Off Of: Racing in the Street by Bruce Springsteen