It is not love but selfish stakes that rule the world

It is not love but selfish stakes that rule the world

By MUSYOKA NGUI

Life is selfish love and no care in the world.

Forget about pretenders. No one takes them seriously.

When chips are down we men have a code that we live by. We peruse our contact list. Since I lost my phone I lost many contacts. I only retrieved a few from the cloud. The rest went to hell. Even those I’d synced on Gmail I did not deliberately recover all of them. Meaning I had contacts I never contacted but they kept my list of phonebook full. Even in an album you don’t play all songs. There are favorites. I did not worry since I had a phone whose memory could not be filled by a few gigabytes and hundreds more to spare on the cloud. By the way I rarely watch TV or/and movies. Topic of tomorrow.

Wisdom Questioned

Anyway, I have since questioned the phonebook contacts which never added any value to me and the ones I searched for until I restored them back. It seems rather rude to ask “ni nani” after a new number either pops up on a text or via voice. Even Truecaller does not seem to recognize who the hell is that analog bugger without a trail of digital footprints.

Rather than the usual family contacts I know by heart, there are priceless friends I cannot get unplugged from. That whose contacts had no backups faded from my memory when robbers struck. Likewise others never bothered. Life is selfish love and no care in the world. Those from work, colleagues, former colleagues-both bosses and fellow staff, comrades and childhood friends with whom we have fond memories of teenage mischief.

Tell As Is

By cost-benefit analysis I am able to shed off people in my life. I am also aware that the same happens to me. Who wants a friend who is a liability? Save for the landlord, I don’t need another rip off for now- much less against my will. If everyone was honest they would remember the help they give out so that they can be rewarded in future. You are blessed according to your deeds.

As an avid reader and writer, so much comes through my eyes, hands and head.  When I make sense of numbers, contexts and ideas I live with the judgment of critics without whom my publications would be lacking in review. I tell my math and science critics that art is not logic limited between points X and Y. It is an imagination that takes the artist anywhere so long as s/he is creative.