Olúwafèyíṣarámi

 Oh what joy! It bubbles from deep within and rises up, overflowing the banks of my being.  I can't even explain it.  Don't ask me why, because there isn't.  Don't ask me what,  because I can't tag it to one thing. Don't look at me like I'm crazy, even though I myself wonder if I am. Oh what joy! I have grown.  And I can't even begin to tell what I ate or who I spoke with because its a truckload of people and experiences.  Not just one thing. NO.  Look at me. I can shout from the rooftops "there isn't any harlot here, buddy!" You can sit around waiting for the harlot you saw yesteryear  And forget to ask yourself what a respectable man like you is looking for in a whorehouse. Oh, but that's not my focus today.  The light is on me. The light is in me. I am the light.  All the colours converge into me. I know who I am now. I see. I see me. I see you. Oh I see now the colours of the spectrum and the shades in between, unnamed, even uns...

 The first time you had a complaint about how I talk and it miraculously grew into a complaint on my lifestyle...I wondered.... Because it was borne out of a comparison with someone else you'd tagged "the ideal girl". Years have gone by  And I've grown to forgive and understand why you do what you do. And here we are again....Oh, not the same girl. But definitely the same ideals. And suddenly, the excuse this time is that you hate nagging?! Really???!!! Of all you could come up with? 🤣 Each time I think about it, my brain pauses for a second. And then laughter wan kee me. Abegi!  It's just amazing how we give excuses for the shit we're about to poop.  It's not about the nagging, and I'm not saying I do or not. Just saying that your complaint is a ruse. We all do this, sometimes.  We keep pointing fingers away from ourselves to hide our inadequacies and shortcomings. Until we are exposed; left without a hiding place so, it's either we face the sham...