“Hello there.” the voice said,
“You can see now.”
Blinding light, then clarity. I was in a room — a space, it felt familiar yet I couldn’t place anything. Vagueness.
“Don’t worry, it’ll all make sense soon enough.” the voice said again.
“Who are you?” I tried to say, but no words came out.
“I’m right here.” The voice answered back. A form appeared before me or it had always been there and I never noticed.
“Who are you?” The words came from me again.
“I’m this space. I’m everything. I’m you.”
“Who am I then?” I have no memories.
More than a year ago I wrote this medium post.
I still cringe when I read it. Not only because its filled bad writing but also because its completely embarrassing.
I was definitely influenced by malaria, normal me would’ve never have written that. Yet, that article is still there, bad writing and all.
I found that no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t delete it. It was everything I felt and it now serves as a marker for my transformation. Because it’s usually when we hit our lowest point, that we are the most receptive to great change.
It’s 11:49 am WAT on the 23rd of march 2018.
That’s today. Right now as I type this.
As I write I’m shaking, my torso quakes so much it’s impossible to sit still.
I have malaria, a disease that can last up to a week when treated, its common in Africa.
My breath — when I remember to breathe — comes out in shaky puffs.
It feels like I have hypothermia even though it’s about 40 degrees Celsius in the small internet café I walked through pouring rain to get to.
Does it feel good? No it doesn’t.
I make things on the internet.