ARTIST. GRIOT. ACTIVIST

I have felt for the longest time, that Life has failed me. True. This is because I have been living a borrowed life. I never could achieve and maintain the inner harmony necessary for functioning properly because I lacked the wisdom and, particularly, the courage to abandon the lie others had fashioned for me, for me to live my own quintessential life.

Living for others has caused me to ensnare myself for so long that I lost touch with who I am. I needed to accept the facts about the situation and do something about living my way. I needed to fully accept the person I was and was meant to be, to be able to achieve harmony with my peculiar destiny.

I have done the work.

For 8 years, I have pondered and questioned and reasoned and explained and the dots just won’t connect.

I did the work. I passed through the purifying flames and came out the other end, intact. I had resigned to the possibility of forever closing a chapter that was a major source of pleasure.

8 Years! That was how long I had removed myself from it all. That was how long it took to get used to being outside of it. That is how long it took to be familiar with the unusual until it became the norm.

When it began, I talked profoundly and with painful deliberateness. And I bet one would notice in the very tone of my voice the bitter blades of vengeance flashing. I had been badly hurt by some careless, reckless, heartless fellow, and was out to avenge myself on the first fool that comes my way.

But then it exhausted me as I realize there is absolutely no pleasure in inflicting pain on an undeserving soul, so I retreated, and kept working on it. The bitterness slowly turned into acceptance and understanding.

It became easier to express the same kind of hurt in a careful, sensitive manner totally devoid of bitterness or rancor. This is because I have learned and have been matured, by my experiences. There is no bitterness in me; instead, I have exchanged the infantile idealism of youth for dreams tempered by the fire of experience.

Faith in life has enabled me to retain some measure of my purity, innocence, and vulnerability. I am thus willing to launch out again, but with a greater understanding of my undertaking. I may stumble still, but I know that I will live a full boisterous life; because eventually, I triumph.

Distance puts perspective on things. A simple caress brings back the memory of the pleasure of touch, and the sensuality of it can become overwhelming it births laughter to contain and guide it. This is a new path I am not willing to take. It is the devil I know.