My instinct tells me that Papatosibe is an owambeh. They keep hating to see any thing good in Igbo. And view keep hating that they can not help but sit back and watch. Take heart, my brother. I know how it feels. Here is some advice. You can just grin and pretend to be happy like the others.

My fellow, who adviced I listn to Don Williams, , I do that. But it always or rather often distract me from the main course. I want to write a serious thing, as in, a crime story or metaphysical plot, Don williams' song brings to my mind images of failed love, broken heart and stuffs like that.

But have you ever felt bottled up? I mean, The ideas are there in your head, but the right words, the will, the strength to convey them through ink is not there? Have you ever been afraid that you might die before writing or singing or painting out that dream in your mind?

Nigeria's craiziest poet you call him? Would I think so?

I don't know, These days I hardly have any idea about what to put down on paper. It seems as if the tap has run dry. And then, The things that would any other time would have inspired me , Now they are impassive. Help me out please!!!

The Mayor Of Casterbridge or Samuel Becket's biography

I have not read up to ten of his books but I think that the man is something else. His power of description, the flow, the atmosphere, the action, the characters Detective Lepski, that's my man

Well, it seems I still dwell in the old shool. I finished reading The Return of the NAtive by Thomas Hardy, re- read Arrow of God by Chinua Achebe. Now I'm reading Freuds Doctrine and methods of psychoanalysis.