"He who is not satisfied with a little, is satisfied with nothing" --- Ben Franklin
I had just finished writing and recording my long anticipated album ' Realpolitiik ' which was like a gigantic deal to me when I started feeling like life was just a series of dull unsatisfying events. On the album I tried to tell my story at the same time educating, touching from the past, how we were slow broke climbing to this moment, a reality living in the matrix, as to how the fuck we got so accustomed to the fast life and talked more about how the women be the taste makers for the shit we making. Later that day when the sky was starting to turn pink, an annoying blip made a sound from my phone, i picked it up lazy, thinking to myself maybe it's just those long texts from WhatsApp groups, but my brother always told me that i would make a terrible psychic the way i suck at guessing and he was always right. It was my email from school written: “Dear student your semester results are as follows” They attached the academic record below, the outcomes were grandiose, the hard work paid off i aced all my modules, and mind you first year is no child's play. I noticed something though, though i was winning from everything my palm wrote, i was not satisfied. A Week later after the release of the album, the sales were sky rocketing during the second week of release going from 0 to 100 real quick but still satisfaction was the farthest thing for me to find. Looking at the mirror i was embarrassed, feeling like a suicidal terrorist, reacted like an infant whenever indulge was mentioned. Mind over matter never seemed to work for my nemesis. I went to see a priest, just as i thought he sold me false hope like the rappers i know, what he said didn‟t help instead it made me even more rude and impatient. The reason why my lover friend said she loves me more than life but i live a double life and need to let her go. When Beauty uttered those words and left me, i already knew there was something wrong with me, i just had been having tough luck with the cancer, the paracetamol I was taking were two drops in the ocean. The situation went from a frying pan to fire when i had no one to talk to, so i decided to take an insight to my soul by writing a letter to myself, a reflective piece of writing that would remind me of who i was and what may have caused that tragedy. I started writing,
“Dear I'm a monster I'm a murderer, I'm demon son of serpent no smiles, read the book it's on my face, my timeline is full of cries, i murdered the virgins broke their hearts, i murdered the virgins. They promised me love they gave me nothing so i retaliated. I murdered the virgins, I'm not apologizing no, not really you broke me, that's why you left me you told me. I've been getting this CREAM however i can, i blooded my hands, i did it for you girl, but girl now i see I am fucking murderer, i murdered the dreams, i murdered the hopes how long can i go? I fucking don't know”
As i continued writing i felt a sense of peace encroaching the land of the demon i was battling, for some reason i thought of my mother but no wonder, i had a great deal of affection for her so i wrote a letter for her too, still with no intentions of finding a potential recipient to receive that piece of my mind and soul regarding how I was feeling that time, the letter was just medicine for my lack of satisfaction that turned king cobra and injected me with the venom. I took another blank page and continued writing.
“Dear mother i can never judge you, you really went down for us ma, you kill for me and my brother. How i kill for these bitches i wonder, why i kill for these bitches. I'm numb to pain, you told me no one love you. I got in my feelings and did some dumb shit; i kill for the cream ignored the dream. Mama I'm sorry you did for us i do it for shit how it fucking started? I am 6ixer it was for this bitch who fucking left me, cause of the way we living, i swear it cuts deep, now I'm clear it aren‟t fucking worth it. I murdered my foes i murdered my friends i murdered my hopes i murdered my dreams, now all of my friends turned to fucking ghosts i treat them like fans and all of my fans turned to fucking Stan's ma.”
The truth of the matter is that I'd trade all my tomorrows for one single yesterday. The letter i wrote for myself to my mother somehow rebuilt my strength and restarted the engine, but like any other car that broke gearbox it got nowhere to go, for me the case was my heart. Love is the most powerful force on earth. It can move mountains and makes the world around you sparkle with joy. The magic touch love adds to your life is both intoxicating and awe-inspiring. However, when a magical relationship is slowly coming to an end or when your love is one-sided and unreturned, it can be excruciatingly painful. Not only does it feel as if the other person stabbed you in the heart but it also seems as if the emotional wounds simply do not heal. Being hurt so deeply by someone who you've opened up your heart and soul is painful beyond measurement. That how i felt when i was trying to come to terms with the fact that beauty left me and it was too early for me to start sending those annoying “I am sorry” messages. I needed to heal, something to empower me, not to let go but to sugar caught the situation and deal with the matter at hand. Heartbreak and too much thinking led to a severe headache. I knew like heaven and hell it was just a mind-state so i decided to take a nap and sleep it off. While i was napping i felt like i entered another dimension, but i had no host for my soul, my vision was crystal clear though. I could see, hear and feel the razorblades that were dancing unpleasantly in my heart. I was floating, wondering like clouds when i saw a girl so mesmerizing that the heartache stopped, she was queenly with empathetic innocent manoeuvre. She was holding a letter, a real old school letter from an envelope written in italics, at the bottom written, “Sincerely Minenhlegift” That's when it hit me that i was the sender and the writer of the letter that beautiful girl devoted a moment of her precious time reading. I jumped to the peak of the page, i was so eager and curios to know the body content. The letter reads:
“I thought about you, writing this letter, it serves as means to pay you for the food for thoughts you offered thank you, but fuck it, I'll feel better if i share i swear I'll feel better if you buy it instead of „share it‟ but I'll still be good if you passed by and listen. The verses crossed your mind might Make you feel pain much worse than the pain Jesus felt when they crossed him. For a second i felt like Great Gatsby, only emotionally but as time passed i went from riches to rags when the affection passed, i don't mean to be biased to the past, i still remember it like it was seconds later so it still suck. I thought about you, i hope i don't do enough to kill you. Save lost images i lost that skill in high school, how forgetting people is on top of my head? You'll swear i went to high school, but how i think about you is so vivid? While other things burn and fade you'll swear i went to high school, memories so long they feel like bamboo
Sincerely Minenhlegift”
After i was done reading i took a glimpse at the face of the reader, patience ran out and eager feelings plus curiosity defeated me. I was flabbergasted to see Beauty's face, astonishment hit me like a lightning and i woke up, that's where i realized i was dreaming all that time. The pain was just a sudden rush for me it was like adrenaline, i couldn't take all the burns, the heartbreak was apocalyptic, I failed to deal with it alone so i picked up my phone and updated my WhatsApp status with an out bursting cry emoji and a broken heart. After the status update i ignored my phone the whole day like my data was depleted until it was lights out, and i went to sleep hoping for the same dream - but no, it almost felt like 90% of the world population's reality.
End of Chapter One. To be continued next Friday.
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