B!

Feeling blue. The last of these interludes.

It is safe to say that introductions are no longer necessary, but it never hurts to say, "Hello, once again."

Including this one, the titles of my last three newsletters would have spelled out the word “BLUE.” April, May, and June. More like doom, gloom, extreme sadness, and a little bit of self-pity. All in all, I feel blue. I have bathed in the river of melancholy, and for some reason, I cannot seem to get the stench off me.

With each passing day, the urge to disappear grows stronger. An off-grid life, a life of complete solitude, calls to me like the green goblin mask calls Norman Osborn. Right now, you can liken me to a movie character—the type of character who suddenly cleans their apartment one random Tuesday afternoon, walks out of the apartment, and is never to be seen again.

A friend called me recently, and honestly, I was surprised, because this is the type of friendship where communication is limited to texting, and an actual phone call is a rare occurrence. We joked about our troubles, and the conversation shifted to serious territory, such as just disappearing to a state we had never visited.

We chose Plateau State as the destination of our planned misadventure. We fantasized about stable and unlimited internet, basking in the dreamlike views of the state, and farming a small plot of land there. This imaginary plan was smoothly rolling off our tongues like alcohol on a Friday night. Then all of a sudden, this plan was almost thrown off a cliff till we considered the possibility of herdsmen. Resolute in our delusion, we agreed herdsmen were not a problem, and on the bright side, they might as well put us out of our existential misery.

Speaking of another TV character, that scene where a character starts to put their affairs in order—organizing their will, making peace with estranged family members, and finally allowing que to sera sera. I think that’s where I’m at now. While I have no will to bestow upon anyone, no peace to make with estranged family members (they are estranged for a reason). I am courteous enough to leave encouraging words behind for those who deserve it. Lastly, I am finally willing to accept and let que to sera sera.

This is the last hello before the final goodbye.

Think of me as the goodbye you were not aware of.

Think of me as a promising letter yet to be delivered.

Think of me as the last page of your favorite novel.

Think of me as your favorite song

May you be the universe's favorite song.

Remember, this is the final hello before the goodbye.

Lastly, think of me as Eden without the forbidden fruit.

May you be heaven’s favorite prayer.

I love you, I miss us, and this is the last damn interlude I am writing.

Songs of the week -

Nezo,

Nigerian by birth,

Indian by hemp,

Canadian by Loud.

Signed: Nezo, St Patron of women with vowels in their names, particularly those with 0-2 boyfriends.