ITERATIVE


When they have questions, people ask a lot of, "why not do this?", "what are you waiting for?"
No one cares to know what you actually want.
                           ...
This goes on and on. I can feel my brain about to explode in discomfort.
Yes, I know I have the 'potential,' but I do not have an interest.
Questions I have to ask are, "why do you dismiss my feelings?", " why do you ignore that my desire truly matters?"
The answer I feel is that you'd rather I drown in discomfort as long as I did what you wanted.
You keep imposing your beliefs and invalidating my wants, my pains, my dreams.
And here I am again, working under duress from the pressure of what you think is best for me.
I seal my lips, I do not fight, I cower, I suffer in silence, I do not contest.
After which, you smile, you radiate, you boast of pride you have of me.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

WITH FEAR, FOR HOPE

​ WITH FEAR, FOR HOPE 1. THE BEGINNING. Fear. That was my major watchword for living life. I didn’t just wake up one day and decide to embrace it, I grew. I grew into fear and its feeble yet sturdy hands wrapped around me reassuringly. With every step that I took, it morphed gigantically and whenever I looked over my shoulders, it was my shadow. “Omokolapo!” My mother yelled. Startled, the ceramic bowl in my hands dropped to the floor and shattered into tiny pieces.  “Ah ah.” She came tumbling into the kitchen wondering what was going on. Mother was so shaken that all she needed was a single tilt to fall over her face. “What happened?” “Nothing, ma. It was the way you called me, ma.” Still heaving, she rolled her eyes, “Was that why you broke a plate? Why do you always get startled, Omokolapo? Are you sure you are okay?” I knew the question didn’t mean she truly wanted to know if I was faring well or not. The required answer was to apologize and so did I. “Sorry, Mama.” “I don’t know w
Read more

THAT CAMERA? SELL IT!

​ THAT CAMERA? SELL IT!      Sacrifices are bound to occur and each step of it is accompanied by loss. I’ve lost my life savings to investing in a future I cannot and will no longer see. The new camera that I purchased with money from countless nights of sleeping on an empty stomach was also carried away in that same tornado of loss. My instinct wants me to jump in front of that wobbly-moving  keke  but Jade’s swift hands drag me back.     “Are you mad?”     Her words smack me across the face and like cold water being dumped over me, I realize what I’d tried to do.     “I'm sorry,” I mutter, looking down to avoid the judging stares of people.     “You’re not allowed to die yet  oh , Amina. Have you forgotten that my rent is part of that money? If you die now, how will you get the money back?”     Let’s take a few steps back to the beginning of my story. I guess I should’ve led with that. In my 25 years of living, I’ve never hated myself like I currently do. That Ponzi scheme promis
Read more

FREEDOM?

Image
FREEDOM? Two years before, I decided to take the bold step. I no longer wanted to pocket my feelings and my hurt. I freed them, let them fly. Every step I took was full of determination, rage, and courage. Little did I know that what life has for me was far from the dreams I had for myself. Now, I sit in this room full of lights that blinded my sight. The walls were plain, old, and imprinted with sadness. The pipes that carry used water above the ceiling creaked, probably from tiredness. The clanging of the doors heightened my senses. There was no window but it wasn’t stuffy. I gripped tightly on my warm orange jumpsuit that was beginning to fade. I could hear movements of voices, sometimes they went with a swoosh, other times they crept quietly into my head.  I begged the grounds to pave way and let me go but underneath it were humans in warm orange that were either cold-blooded criminals or hopeless petty thieves.
Read more