Hey. It’s been a while. Why aren’t you showing up anymore? A lot has happened in your absence. I have been really eager to share with you and yet your absence has been certain. Now that I give thought to it, there’s not so much I’d like to put to your education. Besides, I am damned if I am not just mumbling to myself. Did I tell you I had embarked upon a journey through H.G Wells works of literature? I don’t think I did. Well, I have read his works by the dozen and one now. By Gar! Such a man must have indicated very distinct features on his mental warehouse. Ah, but I lose my self to admiration yet again. But for a good reason I tell you. His narrative skills are of such excellence I was drawn in for hours, oblivious of the bare fact that I was merely reading. I can tell you that in *The Island of Dr Moreau* I was quite lost in the experience that I lost my immunity to shock. Imagine my embarrassment then when I was so shaken by such scenes as I have never experienced in movies nor reality. I say too much! Perhaps it’s only because I am doubtful you’re listening anyway; your absence though dislodges my foundation of reality.

I don’t suppose I have the necessary qualifications to argue about reality. I have read the works of men so great their thoughts have stood the test of time. I wonder if such men were educated of the vanity of time. I have failed to wriggle free of the ever tightening grip of time. It’s surplus to pain that my moment’s thoughts are as valid to one as their personality and placement is to mine. It’s all just reckoning. Too much logic. But I insist upon my shameless paucity of qualifications on the subject of reality. The blame, my dear, is squarely upon your bearing. Your existence both terrifies and excites me. Indeed I have observed extreme sparsity of realities; your random existence – or my elusive ability to notice you – addresses my faculties of reason with injustice.

Have I become a god? Are you a god? But I bore you with unnecessary rumblings of a man whose wits have escaped him. I only wish you were here today, even though you never say a word. I understand you just enough. By the way A’tha left. That’s just a few weeks after Rita left. Jesse is still in Nairobi so I cannot really go out since Bulets always has an excuse; besides Rita never really gave a nod to that. So yesterday I just took to a slight intoxication by the will of a half of Uganda Waragi. You know this is really the first time I am telling you about my friends. Indeed I have friends and you may get to know the others as we go along. Do you have any friends? Ah, but you’re not here. I have tales by the barrel to share but I shall not risk murmuring to myself lest I am restrained for fear of madness. Please, come back…

5 Replies to “The questions, reality and time

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