STAYING SANE.

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My life is fun. Or at least that’s what I like to think. I like to live in a fantasy. Always. It makes it easier. Because I get to filter out the noise from life. Reinfiltrate.

You know life is full of so many things. So much. The good,the bad,ugly,terrible,broken,hurt,mistaken,forgotten,regrets,success, lies,deceit,hope,faith. But then there’s the noise. The actual noise of life.

Sitting in an oversized sardine-like packed bus in a never-ending traffic. Hot scorching sun. Earpiece stuck in the ear listening to Trap music. What’s that boy’s name again? Future,yeah. That one who sings like the smoke he inhales has blocked his chords. Oh yeah. That one. Or maybe a little RnB.  Chris Brown on the beat or maybe some Banky W. Now, this can’t be me, because I hardly do the ear piece thing. I’ve had an ear infection once.
Trying to concentrate on your chat with that fine boy you met last week (the one you met at the wedding). And consciously trying so hard not to peep into the WhatsApp chat of the girl sitting right next to you. Whom just told whomever she was chatting with (a guy, I think) that she was tired of packing her natural hair. “I’ve been on my natural hair for like two weeks now shaa” she typed. Then the demonic “lol”. So it sounds like she isn’t really implying she needs help. So just incase he replies “sorry dear,it happens”, it appears like she really didn’t imply that she needed your help. But her hair looked very new to me. Anyways,that’s none of my business. She smirked when she saw his message as if to say this one was a no-go area. I think she felt my eyes on her and her business (maybe I made it too obvious). Because she gave me a two-second stare that read “mind your business”, as she brought the phone closer to her face. I quickly looked away like I didn’t even know she existed.

The noise from the bus preachers whom tell us how much sin draws us very far from God,and how we must repent or we perish for eternity.

In my head,I think they do a quick survey to figure out the kind of people who are of a majority in the bus. And this determines what they preach. If more young people are occupants of the bus,it’s fornication. And cultism, indecent dressing,then fornication again. More on the fornication. Then they go on and on for about 20 more minutes. When they notice the irritation on people’s faces,they’ll now say “some of you might start to get irritated,because their minds are pricking them” “But I would not stop speaking the truth”. They never stop. Then when it’s time to pray,they try to low-key command everyone to close their eyes by saying “Sister,please close your eyes,don’t be too big for God”. As if it is their eyes. “Bros,come close am for me now”. The “sister” replies. Then the pray for what seems like forever. In conclusion,they plead or soilicit for funds to help the preaching of the gospel. Share some tracts. Someone has already volunteered to pay their fare. Finally,they alight. Sometimes I think they enter buses to just anywhere the bus leads,not necessarily because that’s their destination.

Again. From the blasting and deafening noise from the blaring horns of unfit trucks which shouldn’t be seen at all. Let alone on the road. Or is it the toxic fumes from their exhaust pipes? Like. Kuku kill us.

The only possible way I could stay sane would be to completely black out from the world. My environment. And indulge in empty nothingness. It gives some sort of pleasure. I usually create an image in my head. A fantasy. Of how I want things to be, or how I would’ve wanted things to be or how I would want things to go. It’s a beautiful scene. When your mind is occupied with beauty and serenity,you become immune to every form of sadness and noise. When the world is so loud,but all you can hear is your heartbeat. The air is polluted with all forms of offensive “all-what-not”. But all your nose permits to perceive is all things rosy and beautiful.

The world is a beautiful place. And if you think otherwise. Create your own world. Make it beautiful.

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