It gets worse, it gets worse, this feeling. The heavy cloud that refuses to fall as rain, the darkness that keeps getting darker, the pain that throbs in the heart, a pain that no ginger drink can make go away. I know these things, I feel them. I know you feel them. It’s the same everywhere.
It comes from many things: the feeling that the world is all out for us; the realistion that God doesn’t care; fear of the future because the way is far; and those times when they leave, the ones we love. These things weigh you down, it weighs me down too.
The world is an ass, life is a spoilt child,karma is afraid of those who want to live by all means. They do not pity the weak, the ones who get tired and stop. Resignation is like a melodious voice in their ears, accompanied by the sweet striking guitar cords of suicide. When one struggles in the last throes of life before giving up, these three jackasses get an orgasm that will last for a while. But they will definitely come again for more.
Many times, we feel that the effort is too much, we should probably lie down and get carried away, watch our life slowly drift away. I think these thoughts sometimes, Nne, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid of the beyond, I’m afraid of what I’ll see,afraid of what will happen next. What if God kicks me somewhere I know nothing about? What if I meet Allah instead? Or maybe amadioha? What if I’ll just cease to exist or come back as an animal with the consciousness that I was once human? Too many uncertainties.
I move on, Nne, from every fall, every failure, every beating I take from life. I stand up when it smacks me down; I rush back up the tree when I fall from it. I rest a little, yes and I grumble and complain and curse, but I get up again to pursue that thing life doesn’t want for me. I get up, cos what else is there to do? Lie down there and give life a song to smile about? A song to dance to? Or give life an orgasm? No, Nne, no. To give up is to let life win. To lose all hope is to become a puppet in the hands of life. So I get up and show life something it didn’t expect, something it didn’t count on. I keep coming at it. Life will get tired of throwing me right back down anytime I get up.
Complaining won’t get it done. It only tickles life, makes it giggle and go on doing what it wants. Life doesn’t care. You lose a leg, a hand, a friend, time, opportunity, your faith, your belief, it doesn’t care. You’re but one in a chest of a million toys, a grain of sand, a drop of water in the ocean. You can lie back there and be part of the ripple, a good drop of water. Or you can keep going and be a wave, a never ending wave. You can journey from amongst sands and become a star up there. You can beat the force of gravity, Nne. That is the only line of action open to us. That is the only thing we can do.
With love from the dumps,