A Dreamer’s Train of Thoughts (part 1) – As Cliche as They Get

I want…to love without the borders of trust and insecurities. To believe in the light that blinds me for a second when I think…I think I found my soul mate. Yet it’s not, it’s not my soul mate it’s only a sole mate, as in one mate, that keeps me comfortable in the silence of the night when I ask why I feel alone. Why it’s cold outside, yet my heart feels so warm when we talk about the endless wars, the pain and sores that are caused by every day actions. It is that sole mate that reminds me to scream at the top of my lungs when I yearn to be heard but to be as silent as a desert when I feel heated from all the bullet wounds. That sole mate holds me at every sunset and at every sunrise, reminding me of the beauties on this earth and so I touch my heart and feel it. I feel the power installed in me when my sole mate speaks to me.

Does any of this make sense? Does any of this enlighten you who reads my thoughts and interprets them in your own way, you who listens to my words and decides they are as wrong as they are written or as right as they are felt? I’ve constantly been wondering if the end of a sentence really means the end. In my head that means something else, but I will not give you the satisfaction of writing it down straight. The most formal way in which I can explain the battle I have inside myself is by comparing it to questions I’ve been having. Like why we Africans, are always ready to point fingers and accuse the outsiders of everything that happens to us, instead of looking amongst ourselves first. And why women and men still seem to have this battle between them that suggests that there will be a supreme leader or  whatever they call it. Or, or, well I can’t quite think of any other questions and now that we live in a world that’s 90% narcissist(not accurate figures) , I shift those questions into my own situation and think. I think about that dream I woke up to the other day, with a smile plastered on my face. That dream where you were there and I was there and we were all there just cracking jokes and saying cheers. A face without a face is what they all seemed to be but they were there. I was laughing and feeling warm inside. Who are these people that I dream of? Who is this person that makes me warm inside? So familiar yet so distant and blurry. Was it me? Was I dreaming of myself? Is it possible I have finally found the answer to my problems? Is it possible that I am my own problem and every single thing I was taught about bad people and good people only depends on me? Is it possible that I am my own foe and friend at the same time? Is it possible that I will ever grow to accept all there is to accept about myself with time? What is possible? What isn’t? And who am I to question all of these things?

I want…to love, to blindly love…to immensely love like there is nothing better that I could do. I want to love my life, to love my family, to love my friends, to love like there was no other way around it. I want to love people. I love people. But the truth of the matter is, love has its limits and as friendly as I may be, so do I. But still here I am, expressing myself through words I didn’t even know I had, telling you that I love everything. Everything but the fact that I love. I hate that I love so much and I don’t know whether it’s ruining my very self or it is my very self. My heart beats as I write that word, that very word that I once thought I should offer more than retract. That very word that got me to you. That word that now makes me smile. That very word that found it’s way back to its home, my heart. That word …”self”.

(to be continued..)

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