Skip to main content

HELLO DARK DIARY By: A. N Opeyemi



Hello dark diary, I know my dark tales would shed more light on who I really am.

DAY 1
I want to be able to scream at the air, laugh at my stupidity and run from everything that has caused me pain till I'm breathless and look at the waves fall in a beautiful abandoned beach with a cool serene sky view.
I want to breathe, I want to live, I want to love.

DAY 2
I want to dig a hole of love and feel it with peace.

DAY 3
Choking on my own unhappiness till I find the air of peace to breathe in, else I'll be left with the death of pain and hurt.

DAY 4
I started hugging myself tightly, crying on my own shoulders, wiping my own tears, pulling myself up from the floors of depression. Then I realized being broken comes with a lot of silence on the outside and so much noise in me.


DAY 5
A night will come where I'll be able to really "sleep" and a morning will come where I'll really "wake" and everything will be so new to me except the meaning of "insomnia".

DAY 6

       I searched through the thorns
       And I found my roses

      Red and bright
      Even in this dark night

      And I'll remember how sweet I smell even without tasting
     For the love of myself is long lasting



DAY 7
    As I saw the beads of my sweat, drop by drop fall down  my greasy for head
    The irregular heartbeat thumping against my chest trying to be set free of this cage
    I kept running past the boring paths of my compound, ran till I thought I had lost all oxygen
    I kept moving, flash backs, flash back of horror. I didn't stop, I kept pushing my already sore and week muscles.
    I kept saying "Be in control" "Don't lose it"


DAY 8
She had cats, lots of them
She's allergic to cats, she doesn't love them
Yet she keeps them
To distract 'them'
From her own den
The den she's dying in
Then den no one noticed
'Cause everyone is too busy
Talking about her numerous cats.....

DAY 9
Hello dark diary,
I counted your letters and wrote to you in 9 days, I know maybe someday, someone will pick you up and go through you out of curiosity.
But would they understand.
If not rather put anyone in confusion.
I would answer the  most likely question and drop a word to give a clue on the meaning of these words

Q:Why are your writings dark?
A:Can you give what you do not have?

DAY 1 Loneliness
DAY 2 Pain
DAY 3 Bitterness
DAY 4 Depression
DAY 5 insomnia
DAY 6 Love
DAY  7 Work out
DAY 8 Distraction









DAY 9: DEATH


  ©A. N Opeyemi

















                                       

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

DREAMS OF A perfect FAMILY VANDALISED BY A FAKE IFA PRIEST

Who is man to God? Who is God to man How much distance do our prayers cover by land? In relation to our circumstances and time What does man think of what he sees? And what does God see of what man thinks Emmanuel; God with us But Immanuel on Alakija Street is having spiritual blurred visions On a trip to the priest to inquire of what the future holds, Inheriting gold and paying exceedingly half its worth to verify if it’s gold The tales of Alamu the one with the gift of palmistry Brothers killed brothers, Because the other has been identified to be, The one who will inherit the gift of the fathers, Which of my kids shall be successful? Answers of which the priest shall deliver A gift of wine, a gift of hen, The fake priest gets fatter, Worshipers of the deity that sip champagne and eat gizzards Whilst living off the believers hazard Your mother is a witch Your sister is the glitch Until your siblings die your lineage shall not succeed, These priests we...
1 comment
Read more

MAY YOUR ROAD BE ROUGH By Tai Solarin, Jan. 1, 1964

I am not cursing you; I am wishing you what I wish myself every year. I therefore repeat, may you have a hard time this year, may there be plenty of troubles for you this year! If you are not so sure what you should say back, why not just say, ‘Same to you’? I ask for no more. Our successes are conditioned by the amount of risk we are ready to take. Earlier on today I visited a local farmer about three miles from where I live. He could not have been more than fifty-five, but he said he was already too old to farm vigorously. He still suffered, he said, from the physical energy he displayed as a farmer in his younger days. Around his hut were two pepper bushes. There were kokoyams growing round him. There were snail shells which had given him meat. There must have been more around the banana trees I saw. He hardly ever went to town to buy things. He was self-sufficient.  The car or the bus, the television or the telephone, the newspaper, Vietnam or Red China were nothing to ...
1 comment
Read more

TAPOTI By: Mao Zedong

Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet, indigo: Who is dancing with these rainbow colours in the sky? Air after rain, slanting sun: mountains and passes turning blue in each changing moment. Fierce battles that year: bullet holes in village walls. These mountains so decorated, look even more beautiful today. Artwork via: Forbes
Post a Comment
Read more