There I lie; waiting for the moment everything will come into view. Something has got to take off. I have got to see the world. This tension has been building for months; I had suspended every other thing so as to focus on this one thing.
This is the one thing I feel my life, the rest of my life depended so much on. I have gotten to the point of desperation. I had come to the point of cold stone heart, not feeling anything, not wanting to feel anything but the thrill of “finally it’s done”.
For that thrill, I have gone cold on the inside; the only thing that can thaw me up is the thrill. The thrill is the first sign of fulfillment; the thrill is the high and not the pill. The thrill is the only difference between the never ending Now and EVER.
The thrill is the beginning of the rest of my life, that part of my life that I am dead tired of waiting for. I could jump on a train, if there is any that can take me to that part of my life faster than this particular, time trickling waiting.
When it is finally done, then we begin. The climb is made of strata and wedged cliffs, you could bank on any, but never safe till you get to the very peak. Contrary to what you are probably thinking, it’s not icy at the top, its green. The richest green country you could ever see. The sun is brighter there too, but not as hot, it seems the ozone layer there is made up of thicker oxygen compounds or something. There are all kinds of trees, Baobabs, Cedars and Irokos, growing in the same fauna. It’s magical. Their plumage is of every kind of colors, reds, yellows, oranges, blues and all. There the bees and the cicadas sing, there the birds fly like they have found heaven.
How do I know? I designed it. And I long to get back there; not as when it was in my head; (that is the first version of reality), but as the second version of reality.
The thrill will definitely take me to the first wedged cliff on the side of the climb. And subsequent thrills will keep pushing me up. I don’t know how long I’m going to climb, but I’m sure of one thing…I’m never going to be bored of climbing it but just tired of waiting for the next climb.
In short I live for the climb.
Let’s assume I have been typing mumbo jumbo since, but then, maybe I’m crazy.
Desmond Ayo Ojumu writes from Lagos