Think Tank Tuesday With Kolade: WHAT IS YOUR WHY?

by Duke Magazine

Why did you get out of bed this morning? Why did you eat what you ate? Why did you wear what you wore? We are not here to just make a living, we are here to connect, hence Life is about people. Love, Time, and Death; these three abstractions connect every human in this pot called Earth. Everything we covet, everything we fear for not having, and everything we ultimately end up accruing because at the end of the day, we wish we had the luxury of time, we yearn for love, and we fear death.


There is nothing a man conceives which is not imbued in time. Time is life and time is death. Time circumvents the movement of the mind, my mind, your mind, and the mind of entire humanity. There is nothing that can manifest in space of life without the indispensability of time. You think of something like a “thought”, and thought is time. All thoughts are either of the past or future. Your thought is either a nostalgia culminating from the past events via reminiscence or an envisaged state projecting into what the future holds. Any ideation or conceptualization is always about entities or acts. Can there be entities without assuming the space of time? Life forms in all specs are in existence between the times of birth and death. Life is time, and time is change. Thinking null is also thought because a null is not just a gross material, but also a thought. Hence all activities of the mind, from temperament (sanguine, melancholy, and phlegmatic) to innate exuberance work on the space of Time.

Mathematically, everything that affects happenings in the brain can be succinctly expressed as the function of time;

              £B= f(T)

Sequel to the mathematical expression, the removal of the ‘time’ variable would pose a difficulty in capturing the psyche akin to the brain. Life is thought and thought is time. Every mental activity is encapsulated in time. Time is never ‘now’ because time is always a little lagged or a little ahead. What is ‘real’ is the status quo that you can behold, while time is partly the abstraction of life in the state of thought.

Time is a palpable entity governing material reality. You can only reminisce, but you can not live back in it; only the future lies ahead. The subjective measure of time fluctuates moment-to-moment, but time itself is a continuum. Time is a temporal discourse that defines our ‘who and what. The abstraction of time lies in understanding time brings in understanding it when the cause-effect factor can be seen. It is of worthwhile note to decipher time as a nature of information, in which itself is a dynamic force. Humans are consuming time for which information is time.

Logically, 1+1 ought to be equal to 1, because anything plus itself must be equal to itself. But 1+1 giving two is a seeming, logical, insurmountable conundrum, which is inferred with a conclusion that the two 1s were not identical in the space of time being ordered. Hence, the first 1 coming before the second 1 is tantamount to exert logic as a prerequisite for time existence. If logic is an epiphenomenon of time, then so are Math and Physics.


I wish I could fly like an eagle,

Because you are the wind beneath my wings.

A thought stole a glance under the eyelids,

Sometimes from you, sometimes from me,

It asked for words to set it free,

Words to wear,

So from lips, it can flee,

A voice can embrace and sway with glee.

This thought is a feeling,

Just a feeling like a fragrance in the breeze,

A fragrance that is pure,

I lose with it out in the open for the world to see.

Flying in the sky are the birds of my dreams,

Flying to the land of my heart are the cooing doves of your love,

Wings have taken flight,

You have finally awakened,

Says my sight,

Life is floating in a breeze,

Life is telling you and me.

Your love melts my heart,

In a blink of thought, I feel you,

A light shone down,

Now, there’s a beauty being showered on the streets,

Happiness came down,

Now there’s a zest being showered upon me.

When clouds of pain loom in the sky,

When a shadow of sadness flickers by,

When a tear finds its way to the eye,

When fear keeps the loneliness alive.

The thought of you consoles my heart,

I’m into you, you are part of me,

You were made for love, I was made for loving you.

Love doesn’t talk yet it can be heard, Love doesn’t see but can lead, and Love is an abstract state of the psyche that lies undefined. Infatuation, lust, obsession, attachment, heart schema, and agape. All these sub-phases undercut the premise of an unfathomable scope of mind called love.

It is a conventional cliché that love brings happiness, joy, and peace. But from all charades of empathetic tidbits, we all live as a biological entity, yearning for comforting, solace, and incognito love. It is seldom conferred on the poor as pity, and etched at the rich as a gesticulating benefit. Life is a risk so is love, because words can be ironically sarcastic and actions diminutively exacerbated. We all hope the feeling is mutual, real and not a facade. Love corroborates peace, and peace conjures unity with unity, offering a mirthsome and promising living. Hence, a life devoid of this awe-called ‘love’ is a grave tantrum and fuss.


The dreadnought exterminator, the grave end, the purgatory undertaker, the black, fierce cudgel bearer, the hopeless, the binder of chains, the noisome pestilence, the irrevocable great beyond the driver, the illuminating wood of wails, the bellicose hawk, a nocturnal chimera abyss, and a diurnal beast.

The greatest fear of man is the fear of the unknown (paranoid), which is death. The peasant wants to live a buoyant life out of penury before death comes knocking, and the opulent wants to explore more on life before the exterminator comes dining. This makes life temporally static, at the brink of the dynamism of death offerings. Money can cheat death to a bearable extent, but can never laugh best at death. The penal six-feet-and-cremation verdict for the rich and poor, common and piety, hypocrite and upright, haughty and meek, saucy and gentle, reckless person and witty, fool and sage, weakling and strong, sick and healthy, illiterate and literate, obscured and pacesetter, lost and pathfinder, brutish and exposed. This makes life naught embellished with a vanity, as nothing lasts forever, albeit.

A life where the rich cry and the peasant smile an unencrypted life of wishes, but yet it offers different strokes for different folks. A life where you do not have to try tomorrow but just hope everything goes on well.


Time, Love, and Death are intertwined abstractions that can not be empirically established real, but a hypothetical state of mind that life is a temporal haven of forms.

Life is Time. Life is Love. Life is Death.

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