I don’t see any point in writing my story, because it’s one that you’ve probably read several times already. There’s nothing new that I want to state, so if revelation is what you seek, this sheet is one that you should crush within your palm and dunk into the nearest dustbin. If you’ve reached here thus far it’s only because you’re curious to find out if my story will be any different from the others. Thank God you’re not a cat, because your soul would be well on its way to its Maker by now.
There’s no need for me to have a name. Or even a gender. I’m just a person. Another statistic of earth that occupies this earth. An earth with a spirit being held together with rolls of hope. Hope of the Divine sort, for hope in earth is what got me here in the first place. And you’re still reading. For all you know I could be talking about you – the way you just shuffled in your seat as your collar got a little warm. Why are you feeling uncomfortable? It’s not as though I know whether you’re wondering if I’m going to spill your innermost secrets on this page. I could possibly write about the hearts you’ve broken, the promises you failed to keep, the lies you told to save the hair on the back of your neck, the swear word you uttered when you thought no one was listening, the sly glances you stole, or the times when you cried so much you were afraid you’d run out of tears. Your secrets are yours to keep.
And as for my story, I told you there isn’t one to tell, and unfortunately, the time you spent reading this cannot be reclaimed.
I wish you well.
© LaYinka Sanni, June 2012
From Tuesday 
I hate you now!! LOL
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🙂 I’m glad you liked it.
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Very funny, at a point I actually thought the article was being directed at me.
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I’ve always been an intense reader. Often I would start on a book and literally read almost straight for twelve to eighteen hours or more until I had read it from cover to cover. Sometimes it would be a longer book, so I’d sleep in between, wake up, shower, and then pick up right where I left off until it was finished. Reading, for me, is the ultimate form of escapism. When you read, you see everything in your mind, and what you’re seeing is unique to you and your own imagination. No one else in the world will see everything exactly as you do, which means that you’ve created something unique to yourself that no one else can experience or intrude upon. In those moments, nothing else exists except that world you’re seeing within yourself. There’s nothing better than that. I do have responsibilities to catch up on today, but after talking about all this, I think it can all wait just a bit longer. It’s been a long time since I’ve read a book. Far too long in fact. Life it to short to not spend it doing things that you love, and reading has always been one of the greatest loves of my life. In fact, I think that’s exactly what I’m going to spend the rest of my morning doing. Now I just need to figure out which world of imagination I want to lose myself in this time.
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