Self Image

Through the looking glass.

“I’m almost never serious, and I’m always too serious.
Too deep, too shallow. Too sensitive, too cold hearted. I’m like a collection
of paradoxes.”

you see yourself practicing law?” – A common response from people when I reveal
that I have “dedicated” four (or five, depending on the entry exam to LDC)
years of my life to studying law. I spent two years saying yes so that the
conversation wouldn’t go any further lest I burst into tears incoherently
mumbling a sob story about how I’m not a free spirit and how not having
direction in my life cripples me. “Too much?” I figured. So I’m literally at
the end of my race. One more year and then the “what are you going to do”
inquiries will commence. I spent my third year of law school convincing myself
that I am a writer. So when people asked about practicing, I cut them off to
rant about my dreams of publishing something that would not receive the
Stephanie Meyer reaction from the world. You know that weird gaping hole that
everyone seems to encounter in their lives? Well it wasn’t filled when I
finally found direction, if you can call it that. I am addicted to thinking. I
have no control over my mind. It runs a couple of laps just to decide what I
should have for lunch. Now imagine ten times this effort in contemplating my
 On one hand I realise that I need to pass law
school so that I can prove to my parents (the bread winners) that I am capable
of achieving something. This involves putting a pause on my efforts of
cultivating my writing ambition in order to read all those summary judgments
that get you through law school. The problem here is that their counter
argument here would be “why do you want to leave something you are good at for
something that you are unsure of?”
the other hand, I want to dedicate a greater part of my day to reading and
learning how to make my characters presentable to my readers. In doing so I can
prove (more to myself than to them) that my passion really is in words. This,
however, involves coming to terms with the lowest GPA conceivable to man. The
obvious problem here is, “then what?” “If I can’t cross this bridge, how will I
get to the next one?”

this dream has been thought raped!

So I
have neglected both. Does it sound that easy? Because, truth be told, it feels
like I am passing a steel blade through my soul. Starting off slow as it sinks
into my being and increasing the pace when I am beginning to grow accustomed to
the pain. I have somehow convinced myself that I am holding myself back and as
such there is some fire…somewhere.
about sacrifice!”- The greats tell me. But I must have sacrificed everything by
now. “I don’t know you anymore…” – a close friend rebukes me over a glass of
white wine. It is the first time we’re talking in months. “Well, I don’t know
me anymore, either.” – I say, partially to comfort her, and partially to
silence the inner voice urging me to give up.
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  • Reply John Barigye April 3, 2013 at 12:54 pm

    Tsk tsk…where's the Xena i know? If i could pull it off, so can you!

  • Reply Nora Kirabo April 6, 2013 at 9:08 am

    Oh Johnnie 🙂 But yes yes, you do have a point there!

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