This thing called breakfast.
You people have abused this word. You know how I know? It’s because whenever you hear the word “breakfast” now, your mind goes straight to heart break. Now, whether your mind’s eye sees it as a hot sizzling plate of spicy noodles, a bowl of milky custard or a tray of French fries and tears, is entirely up to you. And your mind’s eye.
This thing called breakfast is just the worst, especially because it actually reaches everybody. I’m usually the one that does the dishing but even I got served, hot. So, I know.
Anyway, in case you’ve been sleeping in a cave, have fallen backwards through time or have been in one of those ridiculously beautiful houses that they ask us to tag three people we’d like to stay there with for 6 months, without internet, I will tell you what breakfast is.
Breakfast is that sharp pain you feel when you’ve deleted chats in anger and you open their name up on your phone and all you can see are the ghosts of shared banter and sexual innuendoes, voice notes and even pictures and/or videos.
Breakfast is the lump in your throat; the one you can’t decide whether to swallow or spit out as you break down and start crying in the middle of the day while you are trying to maybe cook or do laundry.
It is that mixture of fear and numbness you felt as you fully came to see the different sides of someone you love..like how they are poly amorous and believe that sex is the only way to wholly give yourself to your other half. How they just have different views from yours and how this makes it boil down to fight or flee, for you, especially if their opinions reign supreme in their heads.
Breakfast is that shortness of breath you feel when you think of someone else riding or piping this person you once fucked so passionately that when you both came together, you both swore that it is unnatural – the way your bodies crave one another.
Breakfast is the nausea you feel when you remember that you saw the red flags, signs that they were only pretending all the while but you decided to be colour blind. It is even the dizzy spell that accompanies this nausea when you clock that they were being genuine but you were too impatient to let things unfold and so you fucked the entire thing up.
Breakfast, my darling reader or are you a listener is that feeling of not wanting to go out or mingle or flirt back or indulge some other person clearly showing interest in you.
Breakfast is pain, it belongs in the trenches (sorry to everyone in the trenches at this time) and sadly, it means you went and caught feelings.
So, yea, that’s it.
I even heard that some people will still be served today and tomorrow. The reason? Only God knows.
Could it be that we stay getting served because we are dishonest with each other about what we feel; dishonest with ourselves about what we actually want? Why would you say you only want casual sex when in fact, you seek a deep emotional connection and love and security and all of it? And why would you use love as a tool to get casual meaningless sex? Do you really not see the need for honesty?
Well, just take it easy, whether you have received your share or not, whatever kind of pot you are cooking and stirring, this too shall pass. So, try to handle the current situation with the most tact because when this passes, you want the universe to deal with you in the measure you’ve dealt with others.
Most importantly, we move!!!
Why??
Because movement is medicine!! And maybe it’s not even about you. Even if it is, give yourself empathy and constructive criticism, rather than judgement. Plus, evolution has to happen. Human beings must evolve. Why remain boring and unchanged when you can pass through life, allow life to pass through you and enjoy the experience while at it? Someone I know once also said it’s character development. Hehe😭😭
Scum has no gender but men? men are scum. especially Lagos men. Which is funny because usually it’s the same bullshit, different day, yet Lagos men somehow manage to shine bright, brighter than comrades in the sky.
If you got one of the good and thoughtful ones, happy valentine’s to you and yours. Never stop pressing necks with your love.
