I’m sipping lemon soda in the dark. Its gone warm but who cares. It was a gift from sir john across the street where I work. I still wonder why people are being kind to me. What’s left in me to be kind to I can’t be kind to my own self. Forgive my own senses, my own frailties.

The bulb in my room’s been out for a year, I’m sipping lemon soda in the dark not by choice. Choice?

Choices I’ve made, choices I can’t make. I’m hitting this can against my head because I’m indecisive. I’ve seen people dream good dreams that have materialized. Gifted people like you, like them.

I feel empty inside, just walking these narrow paths with leaves turned brown and dry baobab trees.

I’ve seen people in my line of work do so beautifully I feel a disgrace to it. No passion to keep people awed, draw them    in, evoke their affection. I’ve seen you disappointed reading this, asking, is that all you can offer?

I’m sipping lemon soda but its taste’s changed. I’m dreaming of how to come out, to know who I am, to dream dreams and do things that will awe me and keep the world awed, keep you awed. I’ve been stuck like a marker in a military contingent.

What is my life to me? To you. Why can’t I be like you, no me, no you, you in the mirror staring back at me with no shame. Cant you feel the shame. I’m sipping lemon soda in the dark because I have nothing to give in the light.

I’m sipping lemon soda but the taste’s changed. Oh! look, my soda, it’s not lemon flavoured.

 

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