PARTS OF STORIES

The person you think is in your story is also in someone else’s story. Never think a person is exclusively yours, even if they tell you so. It only depends on the form and context, on the depth and scope, and on the intensity and exact nature, of their role in your story and their roles in other people’s stories as well. Just like you are in many people’s stories, so is even the person closest to you maybe even closer still to someone else in that other person’s story. People are interconnected in ways nobody can fathom.

And you can only see your story, but lack complete access into the world of the other person’s story. You only know the character a person plays in your story, but you would be surprised if you ever saw the character that same person plays in another person’s story. Never will you know all the parts of a story, only some – if you are lucky, maybe the relevant ones. Never will you know all the people in a person’s story. And never ever will you know all the stories in which a person features – not even the person closest and dearest to you. Just like only God knows all the stories that you too are a part of.

Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Undulating Plains

YESTERDAY’S FLOWERS

My memories, are they mine?
Whose Definitions do definitions define?
How many sides has a line?
Grape juice is drunk, but not on wine.
My memories, are they mine?

They are my memories of you,
So what are they? If I asked you
Then I‘d be asking the you of today –
I’d much rather ask the you of yesterday,
The you in my memories of you.

But is that, or was that ever, the real you
Or is it just my memory of you?
My memories of you, are they yours?
Or are they mine? Or are they ours?
Yesterday’s flowers bloom on in me and you.

Che Chidi Chukwumerije