What Do We Do?

Today i woke up and found am/was lonely not literally. This morning, i just stared at the ceiling for much longer than i did before and found it usual. One thought kept bubbling up and down in my head until finally i was able to capture what it was that troubled such a magnificent person i was. I had every single person feeding up on my charms now and then. And i’ve had strange persons read my blog and consider it fantastic(though i never edit what i write) and others follow my tweets and praise me for what i see not in myself.

And yet, i felt lonely. People far and wide adored my friendship now and then and yet there was a missing link, a broken wall, time escaping at every essence of breath i breathed.

Then i found myself thinking: i have all the love that i could possible have, from family, friends, colleagues and even strangers but why i couldn’t grasp that root of happiness on whose tree a sit each day.

Then again it just struck me like that unforgiving arrow of feeble cupid.

I found myself in love. It was a love so great and powerful over all things to the extent that each time am literally in the arms of a beloved, i still found myself lonely. Though i have many other loves which includes traveling, multi-cultural interests and history i found this love hidden within me very unforgiving.  And WHY, was because i’ve refused to acknowledged it existence.

The love to write, the love to share my thoughts, the love to inspire, the love to impact those abundance whispers and words of laughters and smile to everyone. I just simply gave it away for nothing so i just hit me right back. It made me lonely.

I was not doing what i was supposed to do. I was living the life to which the world provided me but not what i had originally wanted to do myself, i.e, capture imagination.

The world is running on  the imagination of others and i wasn’t doing my part. They stream through me and were never shared to the world through my writing thus the just bounced back into my head disrupting other thoughts in the making.


Psss: i never edit my blog.

life is just a rose

desaturated-roseWe become intrigued, fascinated and or astonished whenever we come across a perplexed form, situation or event. As for me, nothing has more intrigued me than a rose flower. Well, you can probably say/ask “how can a guy be fascinated by such a ladylike figure”. But I bet you could probably reconsider this question until your have well read all I have to tell you.

I would say, it’s not the rose itself that intrigues me,though I’ll continue to add I like the purple rose than the red. Or well, a faded red can serve my intuition. But more seriously, what unsettles me most is it’s head, that discontinued encirclement. If you come closer to a rose flower or have a more closer view of it, you’ll probably notice its encirclement has a reversed movement, thus, it amusingly acts like the way water behaves when flashed down a w.c. Its encirclement goes down, drains. Now that is how life acts. It just drains away, encircles for a wile then drops.I believe you might now have noticed how I perceive life life now.

Life as a rose is beautiful. By color, form and size, its has it’s own way of encirclement(drainage) if I may add. Most people love rose flowers though they have never seen one before, having only read it in romantic novels or books of enticement. We as human being have never seen life as an objet before but we live and love it every way possible we can. Our perception of how it(life) is, is what makes people become religious, pious, forgiving and or just the “free air” if we deem it precious to spend(life).

Now life a rose withers away just like any other element on this  earth but its trace can’t be forgone neither can its existence be thought as infallible.

Our brother, Kingsley Oti-Aboagye, our friend, a good talking pal, a comforter, a motivator, an icon of what we shall remember of him as a whole is and will never be forgotten as I pay my respects to him by writing this blog today. He shan’t be forgotten for not only will we keep his memories alive but we shall also keep his achievements as a great pillar as we see how cruel life can treat each of us. And if  I were as his burial I did place all kinds of roses on his beautiful but last resting place for a beautiful life he lived as shall we continue from where he left.

Oti, demirifa duei and  May you rest in perfect peace.

Oti in pictures(my apologies to all those whose pictures have been published here without their permission):