Posts Tagged ‘pain’

The heart, as fragile as it is literally and figuratively, is what keeps us alive, sanely or insanely, we still are alive.

But it’s deceiving, more than once, it is deceiving. Often times takes the same path, signals our minds to see light at the end of the tunnel; we get there and realize it was only daylight, in the season of longer nights.

If the organ that keeps us alive is a fragile one, is it not fair to say that we are naturally fragile. It is okay to be fragile, but you will be happier if you are stronger. Your cry isn’t a sign of weakness, it is a sign that you’re still alive; the dead cannot cry.

But don’t stay there, please don’t stay there. Dry those tears and live. Crying is not the only sign of living.

Advertisements

How do I explain this?

It’s not just like someone you love died, it’s like everything you ever felt, all the things you perceived and believed in died, and you’ll have to do things differently. You have no other option than to do things differently. Because whether that person chose to die, or was taken away naturally by the hands of time, perhaps a supernatural hand, he’s dead anyway.

This death I’m talking about isn’t the kind of natural departure in a man’s life cycle, it is that kind of death you witness taking over the life of the one you love, still living. If I had my way, I’d pretend as if nothing happened; I’ll let go, but this is hard for me.

We see it coming sometimes, other times, it just hits you so hard in the chest, surprisingly; it isn’t any experience you can get over overnight. It’s the kind of hurt that changes things… changes you.

This is my loss. This is how I feel, right about now, seated in the corner of my bedroom floor.

11065930_10153245350892990_5004724671293063092_n

There’s so much going on here, on the surface of the earth and even beyond. So much you can be a part of, yet so much you don’t need to be a part of. You can’t afford the luxury of laziness neither can you afford the luxury or being too involved, ‘too busy’, to miss out on what matters and all that’s beautiful.

It comes down to knowing what you you’re looking for, what you want, what you need, and where you’re going.

Love
Music
Relationships
Nature
Animals, pets
Fruits
Sex
Religion
A sense of belonging. You just can’t be alone. It hurts to be alone.

It’s that kind of hurt that magnifies as it morphs from emotional to physical, yes, I’ve been there and wouldn’t wish that for my worst enemy.

So why are you lonely? Why choose to be lonely?

You can do it all by yourself?
You’ve been hurt too many times?
Pain?
Personality?
Your past was dark?

Listen, you’re story as the worst because you haven’t heard another’s. Live. C’mon, please live because life is short. No one understands the brevity of life and why death seeks us so bad, even the innocent ones. But look at you; you’re breathing, you can even read this. Find something to believe in take steps to happiness. Make your soil happy and you’ll have nothing to complain about… at least not often.

I love you.

11065930_10153245350892990_5004724671293063092_n


Photography: Nana Kofi Acquah


 

1f19b3eba64a5d18015484f774b57d4a

Photograph: Pixslrate Studios

If you’re deliberately ignoring my messages and calls after, then I doubt every word you said to me as a sign of affection when we were getting to know each other. I doubt every word!

I can bury it all and live as I never knew you; besides, I never knew you before I did.

You told me how you kept track of my blog and trailed my Facebook statuses, wondering the kind of girl I was, what you didn’t know was, I was doing a similar thing. So, that day I sent the first message, I knew exactly what I wanted… I knew exactly how I’d get it and you needn’t have to do anything to impress me.

But I miss you, and a little bit of a whole lot of you.

image

I’m always willing to forgive
I can do that
I do that
But taking advantage of my forgiving heart
That, pierces straight through it’s cages
Don’t do that
Don’t!
Don’t.

image

It was 00:45. She knew it was. It was the first thing she saw
      when she finally opened her eyes and looked up at the clock.
      ‘Thank you Jesus’, she exclaimed with relief. She had to wake
      up; she knew she had to wake up.
   

      ‘What was all that about? God, explain things to me, please,
      I understood nothing’. The next moment, she was off her bed,
      walked eight steps, as usual she counted, to turn on the
      lights. She turned to pick up a book to read but… But she
      couldn’t even get to its reach. Astonishment gripped her feet
      to the floor, she almost couldn’t move.
   

      She looks into the mirror and sees her full image. ‘Jesus!!!’
      She is scared. She is shivering; as though she was looking
      straight at an image that didn’t belong to her. True, that
      isn’t her. Confused. How can one look into a mirror and see
      another but her image? 
   

      She straightens her neck now, closing her eyes slowly and
      hoping to see herself when she opened her eyes again. Now,
      eyes closed, hearts beating at an unusual pace desperately
      expectant of a positive result in the next moment. But she
      couldn’t see anything but pitch black… Sure, her eyes were
      closed. 
   

      Slowly and carefully, she opens her eyes, still fixed to the
      mirror. First second… Second… Fifth… Eighth…
      Twelfth… Fifteenth… Twentieth… Eyes still fixed,
      unuable to blink; maybe because she didn’t want to take her
      eyes off her image… Maybe she only wants to be double sure
      she was seeing what she was looking at… Sixtieth second…
      Sixty-second… A tear falls. If the tear was a result of her
      not blinking for a while or an emotional response to the
      horror staring back at her, she wasn’t particularly sure.
      Utterly confused. 
   

      She sighs. Felt an itch on her scalp but didn’t scratch it;
      she wasn’t sure what she felt about anything anymore, neither
      what she saw. Maybe after a few minutes, things will clear
      up. Besides, she just woke up… Or probably still dreaming.
      She waited for those minutes to pass.
   

      She lifts her eyes to the clock on the wall. It is 01:24. Now
      to the mirror… Appalling? An eyesore? A mistake? Wrong…
      Just wrong? Which was appropriate description, still she
      wasn’t sure. 
   

      But heart beats faster and tears drips down her throat. She
      swallows it hard. She wanted to know all this was as real as
      she was. It was real. It is real. As if it was a marathon,
      she takes off her tank and strips off the rest. She looks
      back in the mirror and it felt… Felt just wrong.
   

      She had wanted to scream out her anger and pain but she could
      only go as far as screaming out soundless breaths with all
      her might. Both hands stuck on her temples, she screamed
      again but then again, without sound. The scream was painful
      and hard… I could tell from the way her head and arms
      shook. I watched her scream at me in the mirror and I could
      only scream back, only that I was too loud she couldn’t hear.
   

      Still shivering, she runs her hands on her face, down her
      belly, and her curves… They weren’t there anymore. Her
      waist beads had sagged down so much that she could easily
      take them off by pushing them down effortlessly for her hips
      couldn’t support them anymore. She did. She took them off. I
      kept staring at her. I wanted to take my eyes off but I just
      couldn’t because she kept staring right at me. 
   

      Finally, I decided to speak but before I could, her legs had
      given up on her and she fell kneeling on her knees. I had to
      do same. She had so much control over me. But I still wanted
      to speak. She had to listen to me. But she wasn’t looking
      anymore. Her head stayed down. She was ashamed of me. If she
      couldn’t look, how could she have listened? She made me sad,
      because she was sad. This sadness felt stuffed up and almost
      unbearable. It was unbearable.
   

      It wasn’t my fault that she stopped eating regularly and even
      forgot to eat often these days. It wasn’t my fault that she
      spend most of the time in bed awake and thinking, often
      worrying. I’d wanted to warn her but she’d never given me
      attention in days. 
   

      I waited for her to lift her head but she never did. Her
      knees gave up too and I couldn’t see from that point. All I
      could hear were cries that sounded almost breathless. I
      wondered how she survived it. I wondered because I wasn’t
      there anymore. She never looked into the mirror so I just
      couldn’t tell. I faded away.
   

      But I am assured of one thing; she is a strong woman and she
      will be alright. She has a strong spirit and a sense for
      radical change when necessary. If you’d ask me, I’ll only say
      one cannot stand all his life. Even when one stands for
      hours, he gets tired and would want to, if not have to, rest
      a while. 
   

      Her fall was unexpected but I know she’ll rise up again. Next
      time she looks into the mirror, when she looks at me, she
      will smile and I’ll smile back proudly, because I believed in
      her. In the end, it will be alright. If it’s not alright,
      it’s not the end.
   

jollof

Unexpressed emotions
Dieing inside
Trying so hard to find an end to this misery
If it isn’t Jollof, it isn’t worth it

She knows you’re into her
Yet goes out on dates with you
Responds “thank you’ when you tell her “I love you”
She isn’t Jollof, she isn’t worth it

That single man who promised never to hurt you
Yet broke your heart
Didn’t even make an effort to mend it before leaving for another
If it isn’t Jollof, it isn’t worth it
He isn’t Jollof, he isn’t worth it

When you have the coolest friend
Until unending lies set in
And series of endless awkwardness cloud your conversations
Let it go, it isn’t Jollof

Jollof is everything besides that awkwardness you feel
Jollof is anything besides boredom you feel
Jollof is that other thing besides the pain and hurt you feel
Jollof is what you’d rather want to feel

Jollof is awesomeness
Jollof is joy
Jollof is what it is
If it isn’t Jollof, it isn’t worth it.