It loudly confronts my memory,when those days i couldn't imagine. When i couldn't imagine myself as a grown up. when i thought I'd remain that size and age perhaps forever. when i thought the grown ups and adults i saw around found themselves that way-weird! Wen i couldn't imagine how my future would be. When i went to the extend of thinking there comes a day for me to make a wish of my future and Amen!..Was i afraid of the future? or was i just making a dunderhead of myself? Maybe the latter is probable.
But then now i know.i know that no future comes about without having been made, that the times of Manna and Quail is a record of old. And have i not heard the Solomons of my tribe? They've said it all, that Kyome metit, Makomiten tuguk ab buch kasari. What the white man would say Nothing comes for free these days, We must exploit our own brains. It is crystal clear now to me that this is true, that life is a reality that you make it be. That nothing is to be drawn from the bank of life for unless what is deposted in it, contrary to them days. Days that i depended on everything possible for anything, even Jimmy my dog to lick my mucus.
The days that i was just there, thinking that the future was bu an imagination.
What a transition!
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