By Farida Salako
There is a form of sheered wisdom in experience, the being of the moment, the need to escape. The realization that there is nothing superfluous about our existence, nothing in its extraordinary sense that actually tells us that we are mighty or small, smart or otherwise, just the fact that we exist and that the concept of belief and ideologies, religion and ethical segregation is just the faade of a camouflage that hides what really keeps us awake at night: What next when we die.
As such, life begins to fade, the quest for more begins to chip to quirk and taunt the reality of our existence, it begins to question who we truly are, and then a rebellious being is born from that, one who wants to knows it all, feel it all and alas escape when it all comes back crashing.
The idea of drugs in most cases isnt because we feel like we want to be hip of feat in some kind of absurdity, but because there is a realty we cannot face, a realty that we wish to ward away in our subconscious, sometimes, someone we wish that we are, that we want to be and can only be at loose to become that person when we hit the clouds. They tell you that taking it makes you belong, gives you a sense of purpose and slowly you buy into it and you gradually starts to become that dreaded substance that you may have once castigated
And then in some days in the attempt of the moment, in a feat to become someone else, we become our demons, through the consumptions of substances that we take, the life that we lead, the who we become in the morning.
Take a sip they say, there is no hurt, and one sip becomes two and then on and on it climbs a bottle and sachet is consumed. We become the substance, we dont live and breathe anymore, and we become what I take. The world slows down and we am engulfed in the abstraction of who I wish to be, the problems I wish to ward off, to drain away. And by morning it comes back flooding and we need an escape again and we will see it still in this intake. And day after day we shrink and slowly the world fades away.
Take a sip they say and the exams wont be hard, you will remember it all. Yor are up tight, you need to belong, loosen yourself a little, live in the moment: LIES
We find peace in the moments of the high, we see the joy that are false and we become my imagination. We will live in my head and accept the life of falsehood it creates. You will be fine he told me, the one we call friend, the one we call ma or bro. This is our home, where we should find lessons, and comfort and peace, but my home has become our hell.
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