Talking..of nothing really. 


Sometimes differentiating what is real and what’s in the mind is really difficult. Second guessing they call it. Wondering, ” is it in my mind or is this real?”. Am I justified to come to this conclusion or am I jumping ahead of the gun? 

And other times, knowing the answer is actually worse. Not knowing is torture. But what if its in my mind? You see, that means its not real. And reality brings clarity. Clarity of thought, of what next, of how should this reality be dealt with. 

Those other times, the strength to deal with reality is usually lacking. Especially when the actual reality that was there before this imagined reality came to be found real, is actually a whole load of depressing reality. So adding more on top of an undesirable situation isn’t good for stretched out souls like mine. 

But I digress, isn’t not knowing worse? I’ve never met a person who enjoys second guessing. Who enjoys not knowing? Unless not knowing prevents one from facing an undesirable reality. But we can never be so sure that the reality will be undesirable, right? It could actually work out in our favour.. right? 

Well, wrong actually. Am I a pessimist? Maybe, at times. Hope for the best and prepare for the worst. That’s what they said. But isn’t hoping a form of not knowing, which is what we are running away from? Whereas on the other hand, preparing is reality. Preparations are tangible, I can pin point that in case things go this way this is how i’ll deal with them.

 So ? Preparing for the worst is way real than hoping for the best. Don’t call me a pessimist, i’m just being realistic. 

What’s the worst that could happen anyway? You ask. Shouldn’t I go forth and rest my mind by knowing? 

The worst is realising that you don’t miss me as much as I miss you. But saying missing is too shallow for what I have in mind. Missing implies that we were ever together once, and I reminisce those moments. Technically speaking, we’ve never been together. At least not in the way I would want us to be together. 

So how can I miss something that’s all in my mind? How can I second guess what’s only in my mind if we have no common thinking point or base? 

So its not really missing then. Back to the drawing board, what’s the worst thing that could happen? Shouldn’t I go forth and rest my mind by knowing? 

Knowing. That what’s in my mind is what is in your mind. Great minds think alike. My fear here is that we might think alike,its a stretch but work with me here, but that it’ll end there. In the mind. And what’s the use of not acted upon thoughts? 

Well I admit that sometimes and maybe most times, what we think when put into actions usually looks nothing alike; who knows ? After all, not knowing is torturous enough. Well, torture can’t be enough but we can get used to it too much till we are afraid of crossing the borders to see whether in the actualization of our thoughts, we shall find the reality ghastly beautiful or sweetly torturous. 

I’m a tortured soul. That explains my philosophing today. On one hand are my thoughts. On the other hand are my other thoughts. In my mind are more thoughts. And  my heart is the source of all those thoughts. To say these thoughts are torturing me is an understatement.

They’ve pursued me in my silence. Once upon a time I was really good at suppressing things, anything to be precise. You could cut my arm and I would have found a way of not thinking about my armless arm right in front of me. But like all good things, it came to an end. Silence deserted me. I could no longer shut the lid on anything and everything as before. 

And after silence has refused to abide by me, they’ve pursued my will power. I thought I have a very strong will power. Powered by my stubbornness. Talking to you helps. Not about my not knowing and wanting to know or my second guessing and the lack of a reality I can hold onto. 

No. Talking about the air, the crocodiles, the ancestors, the worms, the books, the dreams, the hours, the sacks. You get the drift? No. Okay, talking about nonsense with you is like medicine to me. We could be talking about herbal medicine but with the way my heart is at calm and my thoughts are at peace one would think I have an interest in herbal medicine. God knows I could care less about medicine. 

Except that talking to you feels like medicine. Addictive medicine. Which is why my will power is at stake here. I can’t afford to be an addict. You are too damn unpredictable for a medicine. Or i’m too untrusting of human beings to trust that you’ll still be there tomorrow and the day after that and the one after that. Without fail. Or with minimal fail( giving room for us being humans) So I test myself..how long can I live without talking to you? At first I figured two days would do. But on second thoughts, that’s not working for me. Two seconds will do. 

So to fight off talking to you, I do everything else but that. Jesus! I must really fear reality if how fast i’m running away from it is anything to go by. 

Anyway, i’m not sure what i’m talking about anymore. 

But as I said, talking helps. Even when i’m talking to myself through this space. 

So here I am again. Running. From admitting to myself that I can’t last any longer without talking to you. Well, i’m tired really. So i’m just going to find some nonsense to talk to you about. I guess this explains why i’ve always had stuff to tell you. 

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