I wasn’t here last week. I gave the keys to a girl called Bellah, I hope you gave her a nice welcome. Everyone deserves a nice welcome, no?
Anywho, the reason I wasn’t here last week is that I have been reading this super extra long novel. It’s It, by Stephen King. I’m trying to finish it before the Bluray copy of Chapter Two comes out since I’m not an IMAX kind of guy. Doesn’t help that there’s no IMAX in Nakuru. What’s up with that? Still, I cannot fathom being in a dark room full of strangers, eating the loudest foods ever, and trying to watch a movie. I don’t care if it’s 3D because I don’t need that type of technology to get the story. Also, I am fatally antisocial. If I were a fictional character, I’d be Thanos. Half of y’all wouldn’t even be here.
I also enjoy pausing and rewinding my movies and as far as I know, you can’t do that in a movie theatre. And another thing, people laugh or cry at anything. Eve tells me there was a time she was at the movies with her brother, one of the Transformers, and folks were cheering for sijui Optimus when he showed up. Who does that?
Deep down though, I think I’m scared of holding a stranger’s hand when something scary comes on screen. That’s how new friendships or affairs start. I’m not about that life.
Anyway, It is a large tome, y’all. I’ve been reading it late into the night. If this app is telling me the truth, I’m currently on page 500 of 1945. The losers are just beginning to meet It. They’ve just been scared here and there, nothing too earth-shattering. As I type this, Young Bill has stolen his father’s pistol and is meeting with Richie to go to the Neibolt house. He thinks he can kill It with a gun. Should we tell him ama we just let this thing play out?
So, now it’s three in the morning and after clearing my inbox (imagine there were 23 emails in there!) I want to continue reading the story. Which makes me a bit sad because I’m waking up to Stephen King when I should be waking up to Christ, the King. Reading clown stories instead of pambazukaing na Yesu. This Christian walk is hard sometimes…
Sasa, juu I know myself, I won’t be very productive in writing as I would want to be. So, if you can write and you wouldn’t be opposed to posting something here, I have an extra set of keys for you. Simply send me a smoke signal or a carrier pigeon. Or a raven. Yeah, send a raven wachana na dush. If you want to take the fun out of it, email me at email@example.com or click here. Maybe even post a comment.
Can’t wait to read your work. And once you post it here… You’ll float too.