A Letter to a Long Lost Friend

Mom was pregnant with a boy. A brother, at last, my joy was contagious! Before now I had lost the only one I had three days after he was born.

I was the child that sat on dads lap and whispered gibberish into his ears, he bites mine when it was his turn to whisper. That man loved me.

I lived and played, painted and coloured, I was happy with what I had. Life could be better than this.

You should know I wasn’t created this way. Dad died and life became worse, mom was a teacher, an unpaid one, the government was bad, and I hawked to help mom keep food on the table.

I grew in strength and rigour, pains and vigour, of course, I lost the only brother I would have had. But it is okay, mom was sad too, so sad she has high blood pressure now.

I learnt to live in moments. Truth is moments are the only thing I have, memories don’t work here: it’s in the moment my truest feelings show. It is at this moment I watch my dad die, the same moment I killed a baby.

Moments are special to me, in some, I am accepted, loved and worshipped. I am made to sit on the lap of kings and dine with queens, and in some other moments, I am abused, cursed and rejected. In one of these moments, I was called a thief.

This event pushed me to lose my virginity to someone I didn’t even know his name. I went out and got drunk, he took me to his house and had a forceful penetration. In the morning I was so sad I almost finished a pack of cigarettes.

You were present in all this moment, but you were too busy with life, you did not notice I was dying, I hated sex! If I ever fucked I needed the money so badly. September 11th is a sad day, and December 22nd is worse. You don’t even know these dates and what they mean to me. Celebrating birthdays and parties are all you think of. It’s okay, I’m fine now.

In some moments I am not what I am supposed to be, in some moments I was a model, and I wanted to learn photography. I gave him a blow job twice to waive the fee, he taught me twice! BLOODY MOTHERFUCKER!

Next, I was a slot, then a teacher, a secretary, a waiter, an erotic pleasure seeker and giver, a procurement officer, an adviser, and then a dancer. I never wanted to be any of this, but moments, moments gave me this!

Moments made me do drugs, love more and got hurt with words, moments are without hope for me. I will die in moments, I pray for its bliss.

I wasn’t created this way, my friend.

Moments gave you this part of me.

Forgive me, my friend. I am trying to understand every moment by living it.

In one of these moments, I met a white guy, he was pale and bare, soft and dear, and he brought out his penis for me to stare…

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