That thing called “familiarity”, I hate it so well. It inspires mediocre. It turns the best of friends into the worst of the wild poised at hurting the very thing that once brought them together. It fuels that which makes Africa what it is now.
It normalizes the gem which could have been a good thing if one valued the normal. But barely do we value the normal.
Familiarity makes the politician sit on a chair smeared with mud without recognizing such as mud because well yeah, mud is the new sexy, the old normal.
Familiarity stands between the future and the past, it over emphasizes the ills of the now because of the deluded comfort it tends to bring to those who forget what they once valued.
Contempt, it breeds! Contempt is only great when pointed at that which worsens our plight, let’s only hope we aren’t too familiar. Else we smile with the hints of our extinction.
For this reason, friend, I don’t want to know you. Because I see this happening and happening again. I don’t want to lose you because I never truly owned you.
So I hold on to the branches of a tree in the forest. On a tree, I am who I am, the reflection of what I am without the filth that comes with that which is contrary to myself.
I kiss the bark because it looks at me and says “Abalansa, fuck you for you are fucked because of your actions“, it never says “fuck you because you are better than me, because you don’t live up to my expectations.”
It shows me the me. My friend, I don’t want to lose you. You should not assume to know, neither will I. For I am a surface meant to be scratched till inevitable death sets in.
Achaab Daniel ABALANSA