T.H.I.S. I.S. 3.0.!
Every year on this date, it’s my birthday, and every year, I beremole to disberemole the beremole of all the other beremoleers to Show Dem Camp’s and Moelogo’s Ragabomi.
This year, it’s no different, albeit with one slight twist; this year, I’m 30! Fucking 30 man! Pardon my french.
First off, I’m too young to be this old, and too old to be this young. This does not make sense I know, but the class of 1994 of which I belong will understand this sentiment perfectly.
Oh… And cheers to the calendar for finally catching up to my body. I think I clocked 30 like 5 years ago… what with the slight back ache atibebelo 🤣However, being potbellied at such a tender age, was not part of the equation, but we move. 😁
E jẹ ká tẹ sì wájú.
My 20s have been filled with tasks, lists, deadlines and a lot of please find attached. 😭 Oftentimes, I find myself pondering the opportunity cost of my actions and inactions. Have I moved the needle? Or am I just trading my joys for a little life that allows the wind to dance on my shoulders?” To be honest, I do not know, and I think that’s okay.
Entering my 30s today, I don’t feel any different from yesterday when I was 29. No magic insight, nada. (cries in ẹkùn egbere) Just another day to grind, hustle and keep it moving.
Life; as an unknown Twitter philosopher aptly describes, is a series of responsibilities, achievements, and side quests, and I’m about to unlock one of those side quests in the coming days… Starting a family. Abi is it the main quest?
A lot of persons have asked me how I feel about getting married — Excited? Scared? Anxious? I’m none of those things. What I am is certain. Certain that this is who I want to do the rest of my life with, and in the face of that certainty, all other emotions kinda fall short.
I’ll end this post by borrowing a leaf from Kofoworola and declare an action word for my 30th year... So… potato potato, here goes everything…😆
This is 30, and 30… is for Synergy!
Shalom.
