A LETTER TO OMOTOLANI

  

 To Omotolani,

After all this time, I'm writing to you to let you know that I am aware of your unspoken concerns and that you are making an effort to maintain your composure. I am able to look behind your quiet and also the load, the regrets, the failures, and the hope. Unfortunately, I'm traveling because I'm looking for a reason. My focus may seem to be elsewhere, but I can see. After suffering comes development, and as the seed of insight grows, I am able to perceive the struggle against the odds and the yearning to get out of this quicksand.

 

I observe the daily race against time that society is forcing us to participate in while our race is left behind and pushed to emerge from an unfavorable soil. I observe every damaged soul running away from the source of inner peace. 

 

I'm writing to let you know that I've embarrassed manhood by crying for love for the first time and suffering heartbreak as all the memories I've made are drowned to prevent agony. Why do we love something so deeply and yet watch it die? Did we lose strength while transiting? When did the desire to prevent mistakes vanish? Instead, we would like to be strangers to the dreams we used to share. The pillow is the only object that can attest to how sincere our good-bye sobs were.

It was the finest choice, but even love must come to an end; I now understand the importance of parting, but genuine love is learning to let go.

While I was moving in quest of solace, these wounds were just moving forward. When would this land start to produce results since the heart can no longer return love, I watched a guy give up to his defects while still unfulfilled but buried with a cheer. While not particularly long-lived, they are far too quick to forget that everyone eventually runs out of luck. Do I concentrate on my legacy or all that would be stated once I'm gone?

 

Do I concentrate on the race I'm in or what happens after I stop breathing? Would you defend your space in a world where everyone is lost in the chase when my storms arrive dancing or would you dance along with my worries battling without a direction? 

I write to say that you are not alone consistency never failed a man for pain is just a process a route to our aspirations. But when we talk I'm marveled by the awareness the right words to elevate my soul till i start loosing control till i start craving for the unknown so I'm crawling back to my distraction and gradually we drift apart lost in the crowd for years.

 

Yours Sincerely, 

 

From beyond .........