It’s been months since I last wrote something, anything. There are voices inside me sometimes and I hear them whisper what I ought to write. They live in my head, unrelenting, refusing to leave. So I abandon my head for them and live outside my body. Outside my body is totally different from the head. In my head there are rows and rows of cabinets and they’re all arranged by alphabets except not alphabetically. Someway, they never follow the natural order of A-Z; beside the P there’s the R and then the E.
Yet my new home is a large hollow void. It has no beginning nor end, just darkness. I do not grope or struggle to find my way. I do not have any destination and instead I succumb to the darkness and become a part of it. We’re now one and the other.
I know I should go home and inside my head but I cannot answer those voices. All they want is to be heard, for me to be their speaker, but I just cannot.
I have to speak for myself first. And how do you lend a voice to the voiceless when you’re useless to yourself?
However, today’s different. Or I think it is. I do not remember my dreams after I wake but I remember the emotions. So when I tell you I had a horrible dream, I do not know whether I was chased or what by. But the bitter taste of helplessness and hopelessness would always accompany me to the land of the living.
When I say last night’s dream was one of fulfillment, I cannot say how or why. But this I can know and feel – everything fell into place and I tasted contentment from getting all I wanted.
So I told Niyi because I remembered he had a little feature in my nightly drama. He then asks, “What do you want out of life”.
I stare around me at my dark empty not-so-new home. I cannot remember so much. I know I want a first class in the University and Law school and a lucrative job I’m good at. But that can’t be all. I cannot remember the rest.
This time, I start to grope in the dark, as if the answers are right before me waiting for me to grab it.
Who doesn’t know what they want???!!!
I feel there’s a genie and a clock ticking. Time has gone, he was never on my side. My wishes are not horses, I do not get a ride.
I’m indeed more lost than I had realize. The answer’s in my head, the home I left. I need to find my way home and remember what I want from life.
Dear voices, May I be your voice?
Writers note – Sometimes we do not write for the now but the morrow. Sometimes the aim is to look back and realize where we started from, the confusion we felt, the fear we dealt and admit that in a way, we have grown.