Digging up the soul.

Functional. Functionality.

Its hard to remember when I wasn’t being functional. Everything about me has always been about getting by that moment in life with the least baggage as I can. And I’ve lived like that for so long. Written about pain for too long. Been sad for as long as I can remember.

I’ve always dressed for functional purposes. Never for beauty. Always enough money as I would need, never more or less. Eaten what I can afford. Dreamt of things I can have. Even my goals have always been realistic. Or do I say basic?

I’ve always prepared for the worst. And the worst has been my visitor a bit too regularly. Always prevented my heart from getting hurt. Which didn’t work most of the times. I’ve always been on stand by for life’s tantrums. Even my clothes. Most stay packed. And life has handed me its tantrums quite generously.

Till now. I’m restructuring. My playlist is no longer functional. I’m bringing back that little girl who loved all Yvonne Chaka Chaka’s songs. Who sang along to Sean Paul’s new hits. Who enjoyed just taking a ride on her bike for the sake of it. Who joined all trips to Tsavo regardless of the strangers in the bus. Who dressed as she wished to the protests of her mother. Who wanted and dreamt beyond her means.

And its hard. Bringing her back that is. Its a lonely process. Digging, dusting off a soul has got to be one of the most vulnerable things to do. It hurts in a sweet way. Its like a sour fruit that one can’t just say no to.

Fear. I’ve always been afraid of the wind. It has no grounding. No sense of direction. And this process feels much like the wind. I have no idea what will become of me. Being functional, as I’ve always been, requires me to check all my parts and ensure they are at least working. Now, i’m required to worry about nothing. And enjoy Ali Kiba’s song if that’s the one playing. Look up Jaymo’s silliness and allow my mind to go wild as I go through Joy Isi Bewaji’s page.

And as I listen to an old classic whose title I assume is Listen To Your Heart, i’m filled with tears in my heart. Tears that won’t spill. It has nothing to do with the song. More with my heart. And how for years I’ve listened to everyone but my heart. And I didn’t even know it.

I found myself missing a friend I’ve had for the longest time today. I guess I needed permission to be who i’m becoming. From someone who knew me when I was still wide eyed. Man, moving on afraid is easier said than done. Coz its a cycle. I get into this point where I feel extra vulnerable and need assurance that its going to be okay. I rarely reach out and if I do, I won’t come straight with what I wanted. Years of putting other people’s need before mine taught me that. While at times I just want to be the center of attention. Anyway, being as resilient as I am, I usually trudge on, while still afraid and scared. And the results are usually breathtaking to say the least.

I’m afraid of sleeping nowadays. I want to savour these happy moments a bit longer. I guess I always assume closing my eyes will make them disappear. At some point, i’ll have to get used to this. To life. To its changing nature. And to my awesome nature.

For now, I drink coffee in the wee hours of the morning and enjoy good music. Alone. And this feels like heaven.

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