THE Know-It-All ME

I have all answers to all questions, all moods to all attitudes and all solutions to all problems. Try me and I’ll prove myself right. I enter an argument and want to be the last person to speak as I pin down a previous thought. Like Okonkwo, I kill people’s spirits by identifying their weaknesses and choreographing them to win. I call some stupid, others ignorant, lazy, tribal, individualistic, insensitive and all among many. I am an angel and a demon alike. I know everything.

My Yes needs not a swearing approval as my No won’t be changed by insatiable appetites. It is as firm as Mt. Kenya. In here you are going to experience my shortcomings; things that if you understood, then you half know me for half of what I think now will not be so tomorrow.

I dislike too much rain as I dislike a continued sunny months. I wish for clean and dry roads but not dusty with nylons and banana pills. I want to walk on empty paths where engines zoom not and people roam rare and when dusk knocks I fear for myself in the paths, seeking for crowded places and company, to taste carbon IV oxide and miss being knocked down by humans on Moi Avenue. I want what I don’t want.

As a child, I wanted to quickly be also a youth and adult, to have all the pleasures come in at once. As a youth, I no longer want to be a baby nor look forward to age. I want to be this way forever. Adult life I live now, dreaming all days of my future life and waking up as a youth, of only self responsibility, flexible, timid and yet very dangerous. I am me in my favourite point of time.

The owl is a mystery. It depends with your tradition. source: miamidiscountours.com

All the present knowledge and human wisdom is a doing of people like me. They could sense deficiency of reason and services, quote themselves and have that as the mark of their contribution to the world. Therefore I do not want to conform. If I was a psychopath, I would be both a human and god. But who will hear? I want not the cross. I won’t conform just as I don’t want to dispute.

I need a girlfriend who is ready to be a wife though I do not need a wife. I need she who will love me though not stupidly love. If not one, then I can have more than two wives for men are scarce I think than they going for prostitution. But wait, Why? Do I even want a woman? Do I like the other gender? What make me think ill of them? Oh, what does their fluids like? Who made them? I do not want this girl. Neither that. Though beautiful, I have seen her insides and smelt her vanity. I am going to ignore the one who thinks loves me this day. If it breaks up, it will not be the first. Thanks to this thought.

The past is unknown and the future unpredicted. I may die tomorrow, an end result as likely if I died an infant. Or am I just waiting for a hundred years for the same end? What is the need of being if the end is death? Why? If so, why can’t a man be born smiling and live a week in the smiles, doing it as flies do- tasting the good and the bad- and quickly dying to avoid much vanity thought? Or to flies the period is as long as it is to man, that if he even lived for a day he would have it all as it is for his lifetime. Who said? Oh, the brain.

In my knowing it all have I disputed the existence of the supreme being- God. More often have I even held a doubt on self if so I exist. With this few things have I also celebrated sin and challenged order. Instead of acknowledging I have been neglecting and making more foes than friends. I decide whom I want to speak to and at what time I want. I can’t just avoid, even when I can.

I wish I was born in Nigeria, grew up in Italy, schooled at Switzerland and graduated in Harvard. I wish I knew the sense of touch among the blind, the sense of sight from the blind and the sense of hearing from the deaf. I want to see the process of photosynthesis and notice when the tree adds a millimeter of height. My fingernails have been playing a trick-never noticing the growth but disturbed to cut the overgrown ones. To keep them ever short, I am that person who uses teeth to trim nails. I would also want to know what people think when we meet on the roads and they quickly pass. In the wishing, I know. I only need to be imaginative and take my senses of illusion where I have never before.

I do not allow other people to mislead others in my presence. Keeping quiet are words not of my world. I find myself correcting another and telling them how things are wrong or how right they were. It is a doing of any boy to cling to a point, whether he believes in it or not and argue from there. In foolishness. So the discussion will shift from the two as I take the centre stage. If the opponent will see fit to nobly end it, well and good. If he takes to personal stuffs as I will also do, in my heart he will be. There I will torture him like a bedbug between fingers. I will tend to smile and offer an ending remark before turning my head. She will not know when the lightening sliced her ego and the thunder riverberated her foundations. I will be too ignorant and too insensitive. Love will have died for it never gets born.

I am the centre of things. What is good is mine and solely so. What remains is yours. You can share it among yourselves. I am superior men. By position, gender, race, age, knowledge, skill and demeanour. I went to the university and had a top-notch recommendation. Who should compete with me? Why should you?

They say pride comes before a fall. Those are haters whom, when a small mistake will ensue, will regard it so. I mind not the heavy thud they say I’ll fall with for what is the need of them ever being cautious, liberal and timid in the name of moderation. Let me rise once, fall once and die once. Is it not a fair deal? What is the use of your proverbs that tend to determine fate though never have all (any) of them designed a way to perfection? Is it not in nature to circumnavigate in search and still come to the very starting point?

I have no driving license but if you left your car with me, I’ll move it. I am not aiming to be an author but I haven’t given up thinking that I can publish a book of such confused words. Aid me to a point and let me lead you to the same via a different route. Teach me about common wonders and I will start to utter back confused words of the imaginary world as I explore varying moods in self.

Boredom has been my greatest low point and without knowing have I excused the poorest of the thoughts and the regrettable of the deeds. But I discovered the trick to self actions- never regret them. If heaven has a share in goodness, let it also take a share in falsehood and ugliness. No regrets for actions- what a cure of the mind! If the mind would be controlled by the soul, where would tormentors come from? It does torment the slow responders, the foolishly sensitive. A heart of stone and a pill of ignorance is all you need…and a well served soul that drinks from all false and right information there is. Good and bad make a thing, you know.

Because I know, therefore I started living. I am no one’s slave though they continue disposing indirect taxable services. They know I know as I know they know. One by one my stony heart will handle each of them. They make me pay for housing, pay for food, for education and leisure. Who do they think they are? Because I know, and in knowing do all things become perfect, knowing should make services be present. Am I not the Prince? For I know?

If you want me to be dishonest definitely will I. Honesty is for the soul knowing that I am being dishonest. And the diary is the scroll. Hating hatred is for the angels they say. You wanted me to be honest too, and here I am, saying about me. You doubt? Oh, dishonest are you for were it not for you, I’d not know all. I’d be ….I don’t know.

Before you speak, know I know. Before you change the tone in the voice and the blinking of the eye betray you, know that I know. I will not be betrayed by the lures of your reason boy but quickly let my knowing come to pass….I knew you wished evil of me! And there I am, a sacrificial lamb, knowing what you know and therefore depart by it. Half ignorant, half ashamed.

At the silent of the day, when the wind will be listening to itself as Jason writes, I will lose sleep and alert self to the movements of the rats. Knowing that I am alert, they will stay silent. Just then will my knowing be brought to test by an overthought. Was I right? Did I do the right thing? Is that how I should think? What is the glory in it? It is inhuman to be insensitive. It is foolishness to know. It is a way of the fool. For if I know, why do I wait for the dawn? Should I not have commanded it to be? If she is offended, could she not forgive? No more sleep till the stony heart melts to a solitude melancholic state. A baby I am a lone one, before sleep wears me sweetly in the unknowing. A dream will be due in the peace.