A Very Brief Love Story
8mins. Personal Essay. 22 August 2026
It’s Friday, and I haven’t written anything in a while.
Actually, I have. I just haven’t published any of it.
I kept thinking each piece needed to be refined over and over again before it was good enough for people to read, so they all ended up sitting in my drafts folder.
Would I revisit them?
Maybe. Maybe not.
But yeah, I also haven’t updated the bookshelf section on my blog.
I should have written reviews for the books I’ve read because I’ve read and listened to quite a few books. I could say I’ve been lazy, but I wouldn’t even call it laziness.
This is simply the most relaxed I’ve been in a while, after nearly three weeks of fighting my demons, if they actually exist, or perhaps just fighting myself.
I hate having to put things out into the world. I would rather stick to my journal because nobody reads it.
It isn’t for the outside world.
As much as I try to make my published writing feel like my journal, it still feels like a tight space for my thoughts. I feel like I have to refine my words as much as possible, but I guess I’m going to stop doing that.
I barely even go back to read my journals, but sometimes, out of curiosity, I open a random entry and look at my thoughts and how much I have grown. Lol.
I was also going to drop a funny bombshell, but I forgot what it was.
I hate the weather in England. The heatwave is over, or maybe it isn’t. They said we should expect another one. That’s very abnormal.
But then again, what in this world is normal? I am probably the most normal human being the world will get in a very long time. And for those of you waiting to get to the part where I fell in love, since you are still reading, hahaha, I pranked you.
But I actually did fall in love.
I was in love for about a week, and it was one of the most stressful feelings in the universe. My GOD!!!!!! No one should ever have to feel that way. It was so choking and limiting in a way I can’t quite explain. It felt like an out-of-this-world experience, but in a bad way.
The only kinds of love I can fairly accommodate are the love of family and friendship. But you see romantic love? It is draining for me.
I have always found it draining. I honestly wonder how people are able to think straight.
I’ll be back. I just need to go on a quick grocery run to get one of the things I fell in love with: my freeze-dried pineapple.
I got back from the grocery store, and there was actually no freeze-dried pineapple, so I came back home disappointed.
These days, I have felt empty. Empty in a way I can’t explain. Empty in a way that makes me want to be around people and not want to be around people at the same time.
I want to do things, and I don’t want to do things. It feels like a blank space that needs to be filled, but also not filled at the same time.
Sometimes, I wonder if this is all life is about. Thinking too deeply about it nearly makes me lose my mind because, in the end, all of this just becomes nothing.
Sometimes, I wonder why we exist.
It is honestly too much for me. And one of the most annoying things is that I still have to show up every day.
Imagine if we could take a break from life, just like we take holidays from work. You could take some time away from life and then come back. That would have made things so much easier.
But I just realised that it would take away the uncertainty that death offers, which is really the fun part of life. But because human beings fear uncertainty, death bothers us so much.
I don’t know if I have found the right words to paint the picture in my head, but that is what I mean.
Please get it.
One of my struggles as a writer is that I don’t always know how to express what I am thinking. But wait, I actually do know. I just don’t always have the right words for it, even though I expressed it earlier.
I think about something Chimamanda wrote after her father died: “Enemies beware: the worst has happened; my father is gone; my madness will now bare itself.” I relate to that so much because, fuck it.
I hold my writing back. Lol. I overthink everything. I am trying to learn how to just wake up and act.
I could go on and on and on, but I hold so much back. At this point, I don’t want to care anymore. Maybe that is the release I need from this feeling I can’t name.
You hold so much back only to end up choking on everything you refused to let out. All of this also makes me think about my writing on freedom of speech.
I know myself better now. While writing, I questioned myself. I asked whether I would be able to express myself here as freely as I do in my journal.
I thought I could be free, but I held so much back that I became stuck.
But I couldn’t care less now.
It’s a writing spree, lol. I am writing whatever comes out of my head, with no holding back anymore. Whether it makes sense to me or not, I am sure someone out there will relate to it.
There is always something that can fill a hole. So, cheers to my genuine, unfiltered writing era. May you live long and find your home. Àṣẹ. Amin. Amen.
I wonder if I am permitted to say fuck everything.
It is not even coming from a place of ungratefulness. It is coming from a place of wondering, what in the hell are we doing here?
I ask myself that question a million times a day. Whenever I sit down in search of answers, I end up with solutions that lead to even more questions.
That explains the random headaches I have.
No wonder people talk about the rat race.
We just keep running and running, chasing after things.
There is no rest for the wicked, they say.
But it is more like there is no rest for us because the human species, Homo sapiens, is wicked.
So yeah, I fell in love and out of love.
It is like a routine for me with life.
One day, I hate it here and can’t find a single sensible reason to like it because everything is temporary. The next minute, I am laughing and screaming on the phone without a single worry in sight.
I wish the world could pause at that point and time could freeze. But it is always quick to start rotating again, slamming you in the face the way a Nigerian road can throw you around.
The night is bright. The night is sad. The night is blooming. The night is whatever the night is.
Shut the door. No more new humans should be allowed into this world. That is advice from an experienced human being. Or better still, go to Mars or Jupiter. The quality of life might be better there than it is on planet Earth.
I believe there is life in those places. We just can’t reach them, and they can’t reach us.
But imagine if Earth is actually the best place to be and other planets are worse.
Donald Trump once reportedly used the word “shithole” to describe Nigeria. Nigeria the failed British experiment, but Earth itself appears to be the real shithole.
This is not to downgrade God’s work or anything.
God slapped when He created the world.
I mean, look at all this beauty. But I guess the problem is human beings.
Those higher animals with blood running through their veins pollute the world and make it dangerous. It is always “protect the planet,” but never “reform the humans.”
Whew, what a……………………………………………. FILL IT UP WITH WHAT DEEMS FIT.
But my love story with everything continues with planet Earth. We are in an inseparable, toxic relationship with planet earth.
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