1. I did not lose music.
Music lost me.
I did not betray friendship.
Friendship betrayed me.
I did not write the words.
The words wrote me.
I did not seek God.
God sought me.
2. I sleep better in hotels. I can control the environment i wake up in. No waking up to the sound of workmen in the uncompleted building outside my window, the sound of my brother reading aloud or blaring loud music. Even better, no waking up to an unexplained bat flying around my room or spine-tingling rustling sounds under my bed.
3. I sleep worse in hotels. I hate the vast empty bed and the quiet room after a long day of meetings in a foreign town.
4. I am a culturally illiterate African. I am learning more and more that language is a thought pattern and lifestyle. For example, the concept of “Ori” in Yoruba is much deeper than just a “Head” and “Aiye Loja” goes much deeper than simply “Earth is a market”.
I don’t speak Yoruba thus i don’t think in Yoruba. I now realise that this has its pros and cons. As i cannot undo the past, i choose to focus more on the pros. I don’t have any cultural baggage, have a bulletpoint brain, do not speak in lenghty code and can comfortably lead people much older than i am. Conversely, i can be tactless, am uncomfortable around family and find it difficult to relate to metaphoric poetry. You see, many languages paint pictures and one word may mean an entire story. I will probably never be able to truly appreciate this side of poetry. I also find it difficult to understand inuendos. I once read that in Japanese culture, grunts and gestures speak a thousand words. I would probably not be able to relate to this.