Musings of the boy next door


12024-23324293You just wake up on certain days and begin to feel like a prostitute. Sometimes, you feel used and dumped. Some other times, your brain feels like the wall of a honey-pot sore from rigorous thumping by an uncircumcised womb-broom.

In reality, no one raped you or ripped you off. You probably played yourself. Maybe you should have taken a walk before you got kicked out. Maybe you shouldn’t have put all the eggs you bought in that weak basket. Maybe you nailed your own casket. Maybe you gave too much. These could be some of the reasons your water has refused turning to wine. You have just got to read between the lines.

In the past five years, you have worked with ten different companies. You are beginning to feel old, wasted and deserted at this point. You feel used. These employers have probably gotten the best of your youthful years and you are filled with regrets.

Worse still, you have got nothing to show for the very early mornings, the difficulties of commuting to and fro work, the late nights. Expenses and expectations keep rising but your earnings keep falling. Once you complain, your employer kicks you out and you move on to the next one who also kicks you out when you get bold. From one company to the other, it’s been a ‘Puff.Puff.Pass’ game and no one really cares.

Your love life stays suffering; was it not because of your work commitments that Ifeoma left? Now, you wonder if you were under a spell. You wonder why you never did anything for yourself in the past decade. You regret all the time you spent politicking with the management. You now wish you were a bit selfish all along to at least chase your own dreams. You regret existing rather than living. You feel tears in your eyes but deep within, you feel the lost years could be made up for.

You walk into the office this morning with a clearer perception of life, a fresh agenda and a knowing smile.

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