obscurity

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dear Humans,

I’ve been having the desire to document this phase of my life which seems to be passing by swiftly in many unexpected ways. It’s been a roller foster ride with increasing and decreasing slopes, inclines and declines and all the changes happening in the most dramatic manner.

I want to tell a story, it’s birth inside me, I feel the labour and most days I keep myself from groaning.

It is just that I am not sure how to write all those things I want to write. Partly, there is a soft element of fear that accompanies this desire to write some of the things I feel the personal legend within me is calling me to this quest.

Many things are happening in my space and yet there is also this big void unable to hold all the elements of happening. This void is bigger even though the happenings are big. A cluster of happiness and melancholy,  strength and weakness, letting go and moving on, pain and healing, are all woven together at the same time to form a complex quilt around me.

Once I went to the roof top of my apartment and slept on the hard floor to stare into the dark clouds. I felt small because I realized how vast and occupying the sky was, to some extent a grip of fear enveloped around my heart. And I wish I could touch the heavens to prove it’s reality.

What is all this? It was the most repeated question I kept asking. What is all this thing called Life?
It’s like for most of us we barely know how to live it well and yet this is the one place we can live with all consciousness of our existence and we exist fully and whole because we are complete elements of body, soul and spirit.
And body, soul and spirit only exist on earth. I suppose. Then if that is so, after all, whatever it is, almost all religions believe that as soon as we exit this world, we exist as only souls or spirits, less or nothing at all is said about the body, the very visible and easy to believe part of our being.

Even with the concept of reincarnation, one comes back occupying a new body so it is right for me to say you don’t come back the same once you exit this world.

And yet, it feels like there is an endless tune of music being played here on earth where we each need to dance to but we often are in a hurry, we still are aiming for the life after earth, I mean if the point of being here on earth is to just get to another place, shouldn’t that be the reason to dance? Must we not find our own spark and yield to our magic?

Like I said, there have been some random thoughts going to and fro in my mind. I can’t really seem to have a clear picture of my imaginations and musings.

I often ask myself, if I wasn’t afraid what will be the peak of existence  in my life, what things will I dare to do? How bold will I be to get them done?
And are those things going to make me feel so different and weird in a world with practical rules for living?

But rules are good, without rules there will be entropy and massive chaos. But rules are also bondages, so it’s silly when you think of all these things on a Sunday morning which happen to be a Father’s Day. Days like this get me emotional so I try my best to prevent them.
Of late, I hardly make calls or send text messages to deserving people, I simply just want the day to pass and go. Maybe it is the overwhelming heaviness I want to protect my heart from feeling. An unexplainable amount of gratitude and love I feel my words alone or actions do not fully merit.

My heart is like a magnet. It takes on other people’s emotions and so it gets overwhelmed all the time.The only time I am free is when I am not feeling something.

I still haven’t figured where these words are going or how to get them into shape.
But at least I tried taking off some madness in my head.

Yesterday, I had a painful goodbye. There was this sharp piercing in my heart for a moment but after a while light began to pass through and it was a simple song of hope.
It was an unexpected closure from something I had been holding on for eight years, first I thought it was seven.

It was as if something was breaking into tiny pieces to form something magical on its on.

Sometimes, I feel I am just misplaced in this world. It is either I arrived here too quickly before my time or I arrived too late after my generation had passed. I don’t fit in too well, and i feel it’s everywhere.

– Jo Nketiah

 

 

 

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