KILL TWO BIRDS WITH ONE STONE

By Oyinlola Abimbola

All too often, we have heard this, as a form of advice. In a simple statement, and in its simplest form, succinct, and being reduced to its basest form for understanding. But the words, the specimens, and the sentence itself bears both the contextual and conceptual definitions. Kill- cause to die: two birds- two winged creatures; with one stone- one element causing the death. Well, I don’t know how to kill a bird with a stone, say two. But I tell you, of course you would or wouldn’t argue, that I know more than five effective ways to kill birds without a stone. Have you ever killed a bird? With a stone? Catapults? Oh yes, sounds easier! What breed of birds? Domestics? Oh! I was told I killed a lot when I was younger, I would squeeze them, drop them, make them drown, and sometimes stone to death their pitiful mother. That’s birds, and that’s stones for them.

However, note that there are birds that childish gut dare not touch, even matured guts struggle too. There goes the contextual. As I grew up, the interest in killing birds was abated rather than being heightened as other interests like the joy in journeying, adhesion to acts and arts, serenity and seclusion, and lots of introversive traits were. I found birds to be esoteric, covert artists as they sing melodious verses, carve on the earth, and also creating from the created, as in making a home from collection of things- fabrics, cobwebs, twigs, and so on. Hence, I found them amazing, feared and hoped they wouldn’t go extinct. I see them as mates, in the platform of art and they are even a muse, a source of inspiration to poets.

Ever wanted something so much that you could not picture yourself not getting it, and you pictured yourself drowning in the pool of infatuation, seizing thoughts as though they were grains, and lost in the moment as if it really were? Ever aspired to hold a title so much that it changes you, births in you the attributes associated with those already bagging the title, and then you appeared odd. Like the complicated codified compartment of a writer aiming a publishing deal, carrying a heavy lightness in his satchel. Have you been there? Ever needed a dime so bad that the fear of not getting it kills the heart before the actualization, feeling all aspects of the futuristic fear before the terror appears, have you been there? Ever desired a star, which means the universe to you and still fail, while others aimed at the bulky mass of the moon and are close to getting it; have you been there? Ever tried killing a bird (an aim) with a stone (first try) and ended up using four, and still counting? Yes, just a bird, and it would not die (failing), showing no sign of dying. It is indeed a moment of mixture, the times to believe that the credible impossible are perhaps possible by hope, faith and work, and it’s the worst, realizing, or presuming all was a grasp of the wind, or the hard-to-accept advice to try again.

Chance is all about toning and trying manipulative schemes in measures. It relates to changing handicaps into opportunities, changing a time of waiting for another application period to garner knowledge, related and unrelated, and not just to brood and complain. Applying for a job opportunity and getting rejected is a chance to improve on basic skills as well as getting engaged in matters related to the course of study and those that aren’t. Do not put your eggs in one basket!

As a writer, getting rejected is more like a norm, and when it comes it is as it seems unknown to many a time to recuperate; get better and improve, there’s always a chance for improvement.

Taking four years or more to finally achieve a goal, “Wasted Years” as most will say will remain as it is tagged if the required procedures which seemingly look complicated are neglected. Meanwhile, the future can indeed be carved to our taste, and it could be shattered, even from the present, which will in no time become the past. The future is not to be feared, it is to be prepared for as it isn’t coming to us, it is there waiting, waiting to access what we have to approach it.

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