Dear Kulu,
I am so relieved I heard from you at last.
Lilian
He's upped his game, man. Ten words (greeting and signature not included), and he's left me thoroughly confused as to what to do next. Yeah, you heard from me, but I told you to piss off, Lilian!! I thought he'd insult me, or at the very least, not write me back. That way I could dust off my hands and turn to some other inane task. But, by fully ignoring me, he has managed to rope me right back in. I might as well have sent him a check, for all the acknowledgment he's given! If this isn't a Nigerian....
But I'm a Nigerian too, and damn it, he's not going to get the best of me! Unfortunately, I don't have a few thousand dollars at stake to keep me going; I'm losing interest, man. At the same time though - and this is quite the oxymoron - I am thoroughly engaged in discovering what the hell he means by this email! "Don't do it, kulu...just leave it alone...let it be..." That's my inner voice. And I know I should listen to it, but I just...have to...say...something....
But what?
In other news, I'm having a total quarter-life crisis. I've written two articles and a short story in the past couple of months and heard zero, zip, zilch from the editors. Also, I'm still looking for work and have been on the receiving end of a whole lotta silence on that front as well. I'm no longer questioning my competence - I now fully believe that I am just taking up space on earth, space that could be much better utilized by more talented folk like Chxta and Jeremy. What to do, what to do...?
And that's the other thing: suddenly, I'm no longer sure of myself, my decisions. Constantly second-guessing everything I do, I wouldn't be surprised if I was turning my life into one steaming heap of dung just because I no longer trust my instincts. I'm starting to understand why people get married/have babies at my age: it's the only "sure thing", based on the lies we're told as children ("yes, you will live happily ever after), and you just get tired of thinking and testing and getting rejected. You latch onto the first mo-fo that shows the slightest interest and voila! you've got yourself a new life with "meaning". I'm not going down that road, so I'm stuck with my current reality, which says: I have no talent, I have no purpose, and I'm going to end up being a waitress at some sleazy diner despite my Ivy League education. Suddenly, those ads soliciting dancers ("no experience necessary", "earn $300-$500 a night") are starting to look rather attractive....
kulu on a stripper pole. Now, if that isn't a reason to off myself....
(*Chineke God of Allah, have I actually been blogging for more than a year???*)
8 comments:
For starters, you have no guarantess that he is Nigerian. In any event, if you need help, shoot me an email...;)
hey you're not dumb(lol).. jus having a dry spell, is all. so, r u or not gonna keep this game up?
I think you are the most talented writer here. Please, be confident and don't give up. You will make a difference.
@ chxta: keep watching your inbox.
@ geisha: i haven't decided yet. i have one more article to finish within the next hour (i don't know why i'm bothering, but i did make the commitment, so...) and then i'll have more time to think about it.
@ patrice: i'm starting to love you. if you ever stop reading this blog, i will just die ;). thanks, mate.
Chxta of course he is a Nigerian. My agents have successfully tracked down "Lilian" to a small boysquarters in Ajah, near Lekki.
Lilian is in fact three men who operate on a shift pattern. One of my men accosted the ringleader, one Godstimeisbest Ehigie. He was a bit coy at first but we soon got all the information we needed.
We are compiling a dossier which we will forward to CID Alagbon for further prosecution. The chief superintendent was quite a jovial character who kept laughing at various points when I debriefed him. Ehigie's details have been entered into the NPF database and he should no longer be a bother to you.
atutu, your commendation is in the mail. now now now, you have already rounded up these scoundrels! have you considered working for the EFCC? with your skills and talents, you can easily upstage ribadu...he ain't got shit on you!
that being said, if i hear from lilian again, just do a return-to-sender...
But my dear Kulu, you'll def. be the cutest, hottest, smartest Ivy-league waitress in the diner (I bet you could turn a food order into a New York Times bestseller book without even dropping a tray of greasy bacon and breakfast grits :) Besides, if its a sleazy diner + strip club -- jackpot!
;)
-oo-
ps: lets talk soon.
You should read scamorama
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