By Uwen Precious Ogban 6 months ago

There's nothing clear to see. Not peace. Not joy. Nor Success. Sadness. Love. Passion. Or all of our struggles. It is all a facade, an unfathomable myth of unrealities waving here and there in our heads. Life is a blessing but living it is not. It has now grown from being what used to be priceless to being a price. Love now has a price. To keep family now comes with a price. Even to keep one's sanity, one's financial and emotional stability now comes with a price that must first strain our limbs and torsos before a pinch of fortune is thrown at us like a dirty–house–rag.

Nothing lasts with, or in us, anymore. The air we take in does not last anymore, it is rustling to come in and rushing to leave our bodies the next second to find a certain kind of freshness as it floats away from inside us, through our nostrils, onto another body, because our bodies are in no kind worthy a place to settle.

Money doesn't last either. We either expend it, buying alcoholic drinks at the bar to cool ourselves and suppress knacking thoughts in our head or we spend it on our health. Now, nothing wants us and nothing can ever be ours to pride with. Not love. Not mental sanity. Not true and competitive friends. Not that boy or girl that genuinely needs us. And not even us, ourselves; there's a comatose, an imagination of the world crumbling on our little heads when we try to figure out why all these things happen to us and why we always have to be sad and gloomy people. Yes, we are no more good and okay people.

We are dearth, dead in ourselves but trying unrelentingly to survive all of these vicissitudes by coming out with broad and bright smiles.


Perhaps one day, and not just on any normal day, will all things become clear to us, for us all to be able to see. One day we will find love and we'll see, we will need good friends and we'll see, we will not bulge because we won't try so hard before love finds us and we will see that it is true. We'll find The Bags and The Money and we will see. We will find sisters and brothers and we'll see; all our needs we will see and one day claim.

We will have to cry no more to our phone screens because we are depressed at our phases in life. And the question, why are we not them and them not us, will not linger in our mind when we scroll past the trends on Twitter, Instagram or YouTube. We will no more wonder. Our screens will not wry or mock at us. One day, believably, we will see and these things we see will not just be seen or hoped for; it will come to, and inside of us, to remain and settle in us and with us for as long as the sun rises, killing off darkness and pursuing manlike figures that lurk in the dark, always with the intention to steal every of our happinesses and reasons to believe that there's hope, to areas they truly deserve to be: In hell.

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