Written by ARA
Every day was a different night I dreamt different dreams, I was living like a car fornicating with its rims, reaching for the abstract, wholesome attention to be fulfilled but with intention in a subtracted state. like for instance yesterday was Friday, I woke up wanting to moon walk over smooth criminals, just to show you are not alone, and I’d profess the way you make me feel, eradicating those bad guys till you’re speechless. M.J was who I gazed upon, obviously I’m not talking of Mary Jane but Michael Jackson, I wanted to be the replica of the king of pop, *cough* but I guess that dream was too big to swallow so I woke up from it.
Saturday, I had hoped to work my feet, and though sometimes I may hurt my heel, for me to deliver a better Sangalo than Ronaldo’s overhead kick, and most times I desire to mercilessly deal with the opponents defense, not to be less, but be like Messi, so I guess that’d make the process of my dribbling Messilikely not mercilessly!
On Sunday the dream I had was like cappuccino pressurized by what I had seen the week of old, of how he made the weak whole, the man that stood before numerous numbers of numb-hearted numerable persons, releasing accents that revived their hearts.
I was so much infatuated with the way he gazed into their souls, lifted the pain and hurt with a jack threat giving it a super punch.
GTS was his doze for the frustration that embraced those that looked wearied and worn out, locking the heart break with-in Hells gate till it tapped out. I really wanted to be a pastor, at least my pocket would be full of funds capable of taking me on a world tour.
Morning day, not a day to mourn, but a day of sun ecstatically blazing in the morn, Monday, I woke up wanting to be like the banker beside my house who would silently sneak out at dawn, not that it was dawn day, but that was how continuously his life and day was, always, and at night he would come dragging his feet, pale and tired, but by that time my desire changed, I should have asked him how his day went right? Yeah, don’t bother I know it was doomsday.
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, every single day was different, different goals, dreams, life I wanted to live, people I wanted to be. Like a chameleon I found myself changing skin, till I ended up in vagueness of what lies within me, not realizing my body was a sheath harboring the greatest weapon the world has ever seen, the weapon to rebuild, to redesign, and to make things better.
The gift I had within, a compass to my destiny, but a weapon that needed to be sharpened and groomed, like a box of gift lying in wait at the end of the room, I kept aspiring and reaching for the stars, when I was yet to dominate the land on which I stand. I don’t have to be like anyone, I don’t have to live like anyone, they might stimulate my awakening but I need not do it like they did it, be who they are but open up what I’ve left dormant within me, I kept living in an unreal world with unrealistic goals, instead of me to unrelentingly look within excavate that gift and treasure that had been buried in me, unravelling the very thing that makes me different.
You don’t have to be like anyone, you don’t have to live like anyone, but unrelentingly look within, excavate that gift and treasure that had been buried in you, unravelling the very thing that makes you different, cause really, the currency the world spends is the treasure within.