A Boy's Fantasy

He sat on a circular wooden centerpiece, the smooth ceramic pot just behind his back, and there were people mingling all over the place. The entire hallway beautifully illuminated by a strand of light bulbs. The atmosphere, so serene, and the breeze which came towards the hallway were gentle and warm. There was a low continues background voices as people laughed and chatted among themselves. There were only a couple of people he knew there, and even them he knew from his college days. So it feels very awkward to be there with people he hardly knew; just like the feeling you get when you are surrounded by more people you don't know at all. He had no idea why he came. He figured on a whim, why not? He usually don't hang with these guys and he begun to question why he bothered coming out. What interests these people does not interest him. He doesn't really like to do what the like to do. The closest link was that they were class mates.

As he was deeply lost and buried in his thought, he noticed that there was someone sitting close to him. She seems to have similar thoughts on her mind, frustrated and nervous as he was. He saw an opportunity to kill his boredom, and felt he should start a conversation. She's a cute girl, clothed in a very beautiful flowered blouse over a blue jeans trouser and a pair of red shoes.

He sort of started a conversation. She'd laugh and giggle, he'd concur with what she said. Then a few drinks and the two of them were in loose tongues as they engaged in an in-depth conversation about a popular local TV series called "YOLO."

Later that night, they went to his place and engaged in a further conversation, with a recall of a few good moments from the earlier part of the night, which became more than that. There was an embrace, then a kiss, so deep and passionate..., and for the rest, your guess is as good as it can get. The next day, neither he nor she had regretted what had transpired the previous night. It then went on for weeks and weeks became months, and soon he asked the question she wanted to hear, "will you be my wife?" With a few tears of joy, she responded "yes."

Before his eyes, there she was walking down the aisle, in the gown of her dreams, and it was as white as snow. And him suit up in a smartly cut Italian tuxedo, in the midst of his friends, in his boyhood church. They both said "I do." And there it was; what every guy dreams of. Then he looked around him, and the church, the snow-white gown, the excitement' all gone. Just the light that illuminates the hallway was all he could see, and he was left there sitting on the circular wooden centerpiece only to realize he was daydreaming.

Baffled, he looked round to see if he could catch a glimpse of the mystery girl. Then he looked to his right and saw a girl that fits the description of his mystery girl, and the first question he asked her was, "what do you think of YOLO?" She looked at him and said, "I love YOLO!"

Limitless Possibilities

Initially, I was very reluctant about the idea of writing, not alone contemplate the possibility of blogging. I was really skeptical that my thoughts, ideas, feelings and perspective on things were important enough to share. The thought that someone might read my stuff and criticize me about how bad a write I am was what terrified me, so I said to myself, "why even bother."

Twumwah is a very special friend. The first time I ever had a face to face conversation with her, it felt as though we had been friends for years. Perhaps, she was very receptive and such an amazing communicator. This fact I've established over the course of the duration of our friendship.

During the course of our conversation, she asked me, ''if you're given the opportunity to ask for one natural ability, what will you ask for?'' In my response, without hesitation, I said, "the ability to express my thoughts, ideas, feelings and emotions on paper; to be a good writer. That's what I'd ask for."

"What's preventing you from doing just that?" She asked. "I'm not sure I have the capacity to write," I replied. "Let me tell you, you can write if only you want to write. Don't sell yourself short. The possibility is there, don't limit it," she said.

She telling me to give it a try because the possibility exists did not guaranteed that I'd be a good writer. However, I wouldn't know until I decide to write. All along, I use to think that you have to be some scholar of a sort in English to be able to write. But then I realized that I don't have to be an English scholar or someone with a major in English to be able to express my thoughts, ideas, feelings and emotions. For some reason, I decided a blog was, maybe, the best way I could explore this possibility. To say the least, something has changed.

As simple as my writing may seem, it does not change the fact that my thoughts, ideas, feelings and emotions may be important enough and needs to be shared. Limitless Possibilities is more like me and for me. It is a medium through which I express the thoughts and ideas wondering on my mind, as well as my personal feelings and emotions. I don't suppose that I have a large readership, but if you decide to read these feelings, emotions, the thoughts and ideas of mine which I have expressed, then I crave your indulgence not to say to yourself, "he's such an amateur." For I'm fully cognizance of the fact that these expressions of my feelings, emotions, thoughts and ideas are nothing more than a roughly organized ramblings, but it's who I am - absolutely raw

I've decided to name my blog Limitless Possibilities because that's what I've come to believe in, that the possibilities are limitless. I now live every moment of my life with the mentality that whatever I wish to do, and whatever I wish to become, the possibility to do or become that which I wish to become exists and there's absolutely no limit. The only limit there is are those which we have created in our mind. That's why legends have it that, "if only you can conceive it in your mind and believe it in your heart, then you can achieve." Bible then says that, "whatsoever things ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive and ye shall receive." And so, your faith in God will carry you through every moment and make it glorious.

I'm talking about Limitless Possibilities because, the Possibility of whatever you wish to do or wish to become really exists and I for one have realized it.

                                                                                                         

  

My Super Dad: The Hero Within

When I was a child, it was easy to look at my dad and think that he was without a doubt the coolest, bravest, strongest and the most successful man in the world. I watched him cleared hectors of land within days with  his crocodile branded machete (cutlass) alone, build a tree house storage facility for the end of season harvest, taught us, his children, about everything, from being successful on the farm to being successful in almost every aspects of our lives, and I pretend he was a superhero. My imagination equates him to the likes of the superheroes I've heard of and seen in science fictions - the Superman, Thor, Achilles, Arrow, etc who did everything with the greatest of ease.

As people, we are born to worship. We have the inborn desire to idolize something or someone. We find that which is good and make it into something great. This is the ultimate reason why we have superheroes in the first place. They have the outlook of the ordinary everyday people, but beneath this ordinary everyday people's appearance, they are so different, and are set apart. As a child, I idolized my dad and ranked him up there with these super-humans because he was the closest thing I had to a superhuman.

But as I grew up into a man, I've learned that my dad was flawed. He became less and less superhuman, and more and more ordinary, perhaps, because I was fast coming up into a man of my own. I've seen that life is not just about a sequel of glorified success, but a journey of daily failures and accompanying victories. I've watched him work and hurt and toil and grow and be frustrated and he has made mistakes. We've pulled the pedestal out from beneath him and he fell down and became just another man, getting by as best as he could in this confused world.

Then something truly amazing happens, I've come to realize that my dad really is a superhero, and he has been all along; not as I've imagined as a child but in a way that makes him worthy of truly being a hero. A real dad, I realized, is one who spend hours of his day on the farm for every single day that I've lived., working on the same farm doing the same thing for decades, who wakes up at 2 am and goes into the woods to tap palm wine to raise money for his children's school fees. A real dad is one who, for the sake of his family, break the bones in his fingers, had his skin and finger nails peeled off without even knowing.

A real dad, I've come to understand, is one who after a long day on the farm, still comes home to help in the kitchen. A real dad, you've taught me, is one who disciplines and mentors his children. He's their best friend, and very importantly, pays the bills, and all of this not for his own sake but for the sake of those he loves. What makes my dad a superhero is not that he's an extraordinary man, but because he's an ordinary man who sacrifice his own glory and became a selfless man for our sake.

In this light, dad goes from being an ordinary man to being a superhuman because of love, the greatest power of all; the selfless kind of love that put us, his children and wife before himself. He sets aside his personal desire, dreams and glory so he could be the best dad and provide for us. Rather than worship you as a superhero, I aspire to be like you because you are normal and real, and ordinary, and because you are an ordinary man who has done extraordinary things.

There's no other better and ordinary way to be grateful than to say THANK YOU DAD for setting aside your desire, dreams and personal glory for our sake. Thank you for teaching my brothers and me to love the ordinary man's way.

You're my Dad, my Superhero