Wasting Oxygen

Image creds , Oxygen Scavenger

There were 8 people in total inside the mabati church. A boy and a girl, both about nine years old; 2 women and 4 men in their early forties. All of them were screaming; they seemed to be calling me but I couldn’t quite make out their words.  They stretched their hands, beckoning..nay, begging me to save them. The fire raged on. It burnt the skin off their faces and hands.  Now all I could see were skeletons of seared flesh; wriggling and squirming. Medium rare.

This was on Monday.

I had the same dream again last night.  This time, it was more vivid than the last. I don’t know what it means.

I am scared.


The past couple of weeks have been real scary too. I have been drifting through my days; a plank of wood struggling to stay afloat.

It is easy to tell people that things will get better; that all they need to do is to work hard and give their best. But what if you did all that and nothing seems to be working? What then?

I am numb. My whole being and soul is numb. I am unable to feel the anger or sadness.



I sort of miss the anger because it reminded me that I was still alive. You cannot be angry if you are hopeless. Anger means you still have life coursing through your veins and arteries. Sadness means there’s room for happiness.  But this state of unfeeling…How do you deal with it?

Nothing excites you. Nothing makes sense.

Breath in and out. Waste oxygen. And that’s it.

To what end?


How do you deal with the fact that you no longer have a reason to be the person and things you are/were because it’s a waste of your time?

How do you deal…with the lie that is life?

How do you deal with the constant disappointment of trying, failing, then failing again?

How do you deal?


You focus on breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. Waste oxygen. At least the plants will live because of you.





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