So here we are, standing at the edge of a cliff, knowing we have to jump. We’re scared but mostly excited. This jump is long overdue.
When we set out, we didn’t even know where we were or where we wanted to go. I doubt we even realised we were moving. But move we did; we flew, ran, crawled and sometimes ground to a halt. There are times, we went so far off the trail and for months at a time, we just sat, staring into the distance, weeping and wailing at our inadequacies.
We did persevere and here we are finally, watching the sun set in the horizon, knowing that if we take this jump and hit the ground running, regardless of our sprained ankles and heaving chests, we shall be the view; a phenomenon so magnificent, millions of people will take time out of their days to watch.
This isn’t to say that we haven’t been pretty little things. That we haven’t had people drooling over us, spamming our inbox, begging for text backs. For the most part, we have been disappointing little shits, leaving people hanging, breaking all our promises. And for that we apologise. Like I said, that time was spent eulogizing, but never quite burying, our insecurities.
But for now, we do what we do best; light fires and talk. Ours has been and will continue to be a safe space for our anger. As long as you are here, you can cry and curse. We shall laugh too, mostly at our pain, uncoolness, and occasionally at escapades narrated by the dramatics of an African mother. But more than that, we’ll be unapologetically our authentic selves. We shall bear our souls and wear our hearts on our sleeves. We’ll be vulnerable and honest and a little bit vulgar.
We’ll also conquer new territory (short stories and book reviews). We’ll shoot our shots and take our Ls (this hip millennial language is not making the jump though because I caaaan’t.) And maybe, just maybe, we get over our imposter syndrome, or at the very least learn to coexist with it. We’ll try to find, appreciate and maybe even love our voice. We’ll try not to compare ourselves or envy the travelers we meet on this road; with their self-assured walks and steady voices. We’ll trust the process and enjoy the journey even on the nights we feel lost and stagnant, like our trail became circular.
So find a spot and get comfortable. Grab a drink and let’s get this party started (or continued.) Remember to invite more people and speak your mind, because you can’t keep a fire going if you don’t add firewood.
Me? I promise to be a good host. I will give you regular, quality reasons to stay at my party. Occasionally (read mostly) things will get intense and gut-wrenching. But I’ll grieve with you guys. I’ll be the weird MC that tries to look cool but mostly fails at it and ends up bawling in the middle of a vote of thanks. Except I’ll try to be deep and relatable and somehow I’ll manage to convince you to drag along your clan, even though you won’t be able to extend the invite with a straight face because, how do you invite people for righteous anger and inevitable heartbreak, even one that’s well-packaged? But we’ll also make (pseudo) intellectual arguments and we’ll try not to break our necks while nodding in agreement, or lose our voices disagreeing.
Feel free to let me know how your experience here can be enriched.
4 thoughts on “Back to one.”
GAAAAH so excited!
Нey very interesting blog!
Hey. Thank you:)