Sometimes i look where i be and what i have been through…and i nod my head like i got dandruffs.
i am used to treading on delicate grounds, full of fear, anticipation, anxiety…and the sweaty palms. Desperate last minute rushes are what i have been become enslaved to.
I am living life taking risks like i don’t care about anything anymore.
Interesting enough, after the dust settles, i still find myself calm and things have not fallen apart as they would have it.
But probably, they WILL fall apart. I strangely look forward to that.
Heading a team of scribes now, and how they look up to me, i think the ‘gods’ must be crazy to make me a leader…knowing how i am.
May be i am an ambitious pretender, maybe i make things happen with my ever burning freshness…but soon enough, my lackadaisical sides kicks in and everything comes tumbling down like a faulty domino.
I would want my life back…but what life?
This is my life.
I have realized without the achievements i hold dear, i am basically nothing. People identify me with those and as such, forget the flailing soul, escaping in the mist of his burning personality.
But really, this is what i want to do in life. I want to live journalism, eat design and sleep with reporters, screw editors lol…but the package never really comes full, Ever.
But i have to hold on to this…its my living hope of never having to think otherwise about my life, my past, all those things that drive me towards ripping out rare fetes.
Its the least i could do for me, my future.
