I recently finished rewatching Marty Supreme yet again and it’s still sitting with me days later. Just can’t stop thinking about it. It’s easily one of my favorite A24 films, right up there with Uncut Gems. Shoutout to Josh Safdie, that’s one of my favorite Jewish people ever, alongside Paul Auster. No fr!❤️ Chalamet as Marty Mauser is all charm, faux oder forced confidence and bad decisions, the kind of guy who could sell you on orange ping-pong balls while sleeping with your wife and calling it networking. He’s convinced that greatness is mostly a mix of hustling, scheming and some luck, while ignoring the trail of wreckage he leaves behind him. And that's exactly the problem. Marty tells himself he’s destined for the British Open while robbing his uncle’s shoe store and juggling mistresses in 1950s New York. The film gets the vibe of American hustle and ambition exactly right, especially for that period. Mauser is a man who believes the next deal or the next point will finally make the world bow to him. He’s driven by a stubborn sense that success is inevitable, that it’s already waiting for him just around the corner. And in this way, he simply can’t help himself. For example, he had not planned to steal from his uncle, but the opportunity presented itself and Marty Mauser had always been quick with opportunities. The trip to London, the hotel upgrade, the actress in the lobby, it goes on and on throughout the entire movie. Safdie directs like someone who knows exactly how being addicted to winning feels: the rush, the crash, and the certainty that the next win will fix everything. There are beautiful, heartbreaking scenes with the women who love Marty anyway, and you’ll find yourself wanting to pull them aside and have a serious conversation about boundaries. Gwyneth Paltrow was elegant in this, kinda sad and weary too but elegant still. At first it’s funny, because it is kind of a comedy. You laugh at the madness of it all until you realize that's exactly what the film is getting at. We're all chasing something, sure that the next break, the next win, or the next bit of luck will be the one. And somehow, despite everything, you still end up rooting for Marty. Near the end when he looks at the woman carrying his child and seems, for perhaps the first time, to see her. The look does not exactly solve anything. It simply arrives, honest and late, the way such recognitions usually do. By the very final scenes, I was just so emosh because the movie just shows you that grace sometimes looks like losing spectacularly and still getting up to play another point. It’s messy. It’s human. It’s worth the rewatch.

Disclaimers: 1. This is long and self centered (typically 😅). 2. I don't get paid by X I cannot imagine a life devoid of stories by: Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (Nigeria) Ngugi Wathiongo (Kenya) Khaled Hosseini (Afghanistan) Claire Hajaj (Palestine et al) And even though I've intentionally chosen to focus less on western literature, I can't imagine a life without stories by: Charles Dickens, Danielle Steele, George Orwell Guys, Please read as diversely as possible. It will open your mind. Growing up Zimbabwean libraries were packed with literature from all over the world. I read pacesetters from Nigeria, Followed dramas from Sweet valley High in the USA, Followed the Hardy boys, Nancy Drew, And read about British summers as told by Enid Blyton. I was born and raised in semi-rural Gwanda - Zimbabwe, But as a child, Just from reading and films- I had the worldview of someone who was extensively well traveled. South African films like "Asinamali" and "Sarafina" conscientised me about the evil that was apartheid just across the border, We would sing about Nelson Mandela, When SA got Independence, My friends and I were ecstatic at only 10 years old. I'm currently reading "The Arsonist's city by Hala Alyan, Through it I'm understanding more about life in Lebanon and Syria, Which gives me context about the current crisis in the middle East. Now, When I hear Israel has bombed Beirut yet again, I understand that at a deeper level than before I read novels written by survivors of that violence and their descendants. Just last week I reviewed "The poisonwood bible by Barbara Kingsolver, It's just a story about a couple and their 4 daughters, But it's set in Congo and talks about the assassination of Patrice Lumumba, And the hand of Belgium, France and the USA in the destabilization of Congo. From reading it I can clearly see the third hand in the current crisis in the DRC. And from reading it, I now understand why we have so many Congolese immigrants in Zimbabwe, And I empathise with them. Please read. In a world where traveling isn't always feasible, Reading books set in different countries Is the next best thing.

i keep a document on my phone called "things that felt like the end of the world but weren't." every time i'm spiraling i add to it. then i read the old ones. "didn't get into first choice college" (met my best friend at second choice). "thought i'd never get over them" (can barely remember their face now. it's becoming proof that i can survive everything. even this.

*Prostitute enters room* St. Thomas Aquinas:

Recreated my dad's swearing in photo😁 March 15, 2003. V. June 15, 2026

I wanna thank everybody wishing me a happy Born Day today

I Abandon Things.

One of them done by my production company, Rose and Oaks 😌👌🏾✅

Njideka is the daughter of late Professor Dora Akunyili. Walahi, nobody just springs out of "nowhere". Lapo babies like us ehn, our journey loooooooong.

when she makes me nut & i don’t get post nut clarity so now ik i’m in love

Western diet changed a lot of things. See that physique. 😭😂

Doris Lessing wrote GRASS from the point of view of Mary Turner, culminating in her murder by the black "houseboy" Moses. I am writing the same events from the perspective of Moses. I hope to do what Jean Rhys did to JANE EYRE in the wonderful WIDE SARGASSO SEA.

Today is my birthday! I'm moving into my dream house, a classic gem built in 1935. And I'm starting a new novel! I've been given kind permission by Doris Lessing's Estate to rewrite my fav Zim novel THE GRASS IS SINGING .. from the perspective of Moses! I'm in 7th HEAVEN!

Lol motherhood is so funny. My mum washed her fruit then came to sit down to eat it. Without saying a word to her I stretched out my hand to beg and she gave it to me 😂 Poor thing. I’m 32 and she still can’t eat her food in peace! 💀

I got a scholarship to attend the Kenyon Review @kenyonreview Summer Writers’ Residency at Kenyon College. I am grateful to God. Grateful for the support I received to attend.

I came to work this morning to meet my colleagues (all Europeans) discussing South Africans and their xenophobic culture. It pleased my heart to see that the embarrassment is no longer continental. All your countrymen abroad should begin to feel uncomfortable.

God honors his favorites by crushing them, drops the whole insufferable wretched weight of purpose on their spines until they either snap into shape or snap entirely. the unburdened, those buoyant grinning vapid little phantoms drifting through their own lives without a single crushing thing to carry, they are forgotten

I love this line so much because every time I watch this movie with someone, without fail, they immediately catch the meaning of that line and start being able to see the deeper levels of the movie. It’s so great

August 2024. December 2025

Greek mythology always leaves me pondering - it stuns me with the vivid pictures, then allows me to pick lessons. So is the story of Antaeus. He was born of Poseidon and Gaia. Poseidon ruled over the seas, Gaia was the earth herself - the mother of Uranus. Long before he was defeated by Heracles, Antaeus was always rumoured to be invincible. Stories recorded that Antaeus would wait at the entrance of Libya and force passersby to wrestle him - he always crushed them, piling their skulls so he could build a temple to his father, Poseidon. This is where it gets interesting - he was only invincible as long as he maintained contact with Mother Earth. When Heracles eventually crushed him, Heracles did so by suspending him in the air, away from Mother Earth, crushing him in a bear hug. In reflection, a lot of people have not been truly tested by the realities of the world because they have insulation. Insulation in systems, in parents, in their backgrounds. Just like Antaeus, the illusion of their strength is in contact with Gaia. On the day Heracles decides to test your resolve, all it takes is for you to fall once, and if there is anything I know, it is the fact that a man who is used to standing and has never fallen will not be able to stand on the day he falls. An extension of this conversation goes to parents who shield their children entirely from life's realities. You cannot apologise for having leverage in life, especially if your parents paved your way - but it is important to consistently stress-test how much of life you really can handle. In the absence of the strength that grounds you, how do you survive?

I used to date someone who knew how to properly punctuate when texting. I was the better and more articulate speaker between the two of us, but they were the better writer. Anyway, I found it very commendable, so much so that I started to consciously add the right punctuation when texting them too. Trust me, it was cute, especially as they were just being themselves and did not mind how I sent my message to them, provided it was legible and readable. But… ladies and gentleman. ‘Guirls’ and girls. Boys and ‘bouys’. Do not be fooled. It still ended in tears.🙂 Apparently, proper punctuation is the only thing they could consciously commit to in this life. Stay wicked and single. Happy Monday!!