Navigating Solutions and Darkness

Photo by  David Rodrigo  on  Unsplash I'm currently awaiting my Burger King order to be home delivered, and reading Americanah . I'd delayed reading the book, not wanting to delve into something heavy. I was also under the impression (because I'm a moron) that the word "Americanah" referred to a stylized version of Americana - the telling of American folk stories. Americanah is, instead, the Nigerian word for "American" - it's used in the book to mockingly refer to Nigerians who become Americanized.  There's a lot to relate to in this book - most astonishing, perhaps, is how men manage to be the same around the world - always failing to come up to mark. Always immature. Always playing games. But in terms of what I relate to the most, it is perhaps the life of someone who has lived across borders, across cultures, who struggles with their identity.  Nine years ago was the beginning of the end. Almost a decade of my life not spent in

Crossposted from here : Written on October 21, 2015 Title:  Fahrenheit 451 Author:   Ray Bradbury Year of Publication:  1953 Series:  N/A Goodreads Rating (Avg.):  3.95 Goodreads Rating (Mine):  4 “When they give you lined paper, write the other way.”  –  Fahrenheit 451,  Ray Bradbury Some Spoilers are Inevitable Plot Description:  Guy Montag is a fireman, and as everyone knows, the role of firemen is to set fire to houses. And to burn books. The houses that have fire set to them are usually the ones harbouring books. In Bradbury’s dystopic vision of a future, books are banned, and it’s not like any normal, sane person would want to read them anyway. That’s what a futuristic version of television on steroids (and possible crack cocaine) is for – to keep you entertained and happy… and free of questions. Fahrenheit 451  is a much reviewed classic, so I doubt there’s much I can add to the collective discussion on this book. I read it as part of a Banned Books Club, a

Photo by  Matt Duncan  on  Unsplash The paths we tread  Are many, my son Tread with care Lest your feet wear out I hold your hand And hold you back Lest you should see What you must not A thousand miles My path takes me A thousand things I laugh to scorn And yet your face Shines in my dreams And all my waking Hours of regret The dirt on my fingers Cannot be washed away By a simple kiss From a You Who Care But I'll bear in mind When I come back for you Just to see you smile And accept my apology Written on August 29, 2010