A look at the trajectory of confusion you create makes one wonder what exactly you are and what your true interest in human existence is.
You afflict your victims with powerful illusions, consuming them with a virus of desire. They see everyone else as abnormal—except themselves.
Even worse, your virus rarely afflicts in pairs. It is often an unbalanced chain—an unquenchable longing directed toward someone whose own desire lies elsewhere.
Kemi is Ada’s roommate, crushing on Ada’s brother, Emeka. Adeyemi finds Kemi irresistible; he spends his entire monthly upkeep buying things for her, even begging her to accept them. While Kemi ignores Adeyemi’s texts, Emeka ignores Kemi’s.
A smile from Adeyemi is all Ada needs for ecstasy, yet he finds it too difficult to give. Then there is their neighbour, Fred, who hides behind his window every morning and evening just to catch a glimpse of Ada going to lectures and returning—just to feel a moment of happiness.
Such is the confusion you create—an established female CEO desperate to be noticed by a poor vulcanizer, while the vulcanizer chases a pepper seller down the next street. Each of them is perfectly normal in their own eyes, consumed by the same virus of desire.
We are all victims of you, or at least at some point in our lives, we come under your spell. Yet we endure your whip with strange satisfaction, unaware of how irrational we appear to those outside your influence.
It is only in retrospect that we recognize our folly—when we look back at those who caused us so much unrest and wonder what madness once possessed us.
You must laugh, watching the confusion you orchestrate. You are a vain puppeteer, deriving pleasure from our rational irrationality.
You are Love—the beautiful curse we cannot live without.