Fictional Sense

The world we live in constantly widens the context in which we operate. For instance, we just got introduced to the thought that all things could be true (or false) if you explain that facts you use are alternative. That will most definitely allow you to bend outcomes and possibilities far outside the norm. 

I do not consider this to be a new trend. It is kind of like most of the religious concepts in practice. You start with an unproven premise and call it true. The succeeding logic becomes true as long as the premise is not challenged. Fictional sense is kind of like that. It provides the context within which outrageous and unpopular opinions can pass the test of reason.

In a way, it is just me trolling the world on twitter. But I find it to be useful to describe a lot of the observations I have made. Otherwise, I will end up arguing with a lot of people for reasons I may struggle to point out when I could easily appreciate the dynamics that form diverse mind models. I do this to allow for a less confrontational approach to discussions because frankly, discussions are more rewarding to me than arguments.

So it may not make sense, but it could make sense if.... 

Always On My Mind

This is one of my favorite songs. I can say so much about it, but if you listen you will know.

BUHARI'S DISASTER

I want to start by demanding an apology from Mr. Pesident, first for insulting his wife and women all over the world and for misrepresenting Nigeria. He has also put Nigerian men in a bad light and he must apologize for that as well. I did not want to start this post with an unserious tone.  We should treat every decline in our humanity as a disaster.  While we are dealing with so many other disasters, some more dangerous than others, I have to say that there those we can prevent. Like this one.

When I referred to Aisha Buhari’s speech here as a fart, I was thinking in terms of the backwardness in using sentiments to guide political appointments in Nigeria. It has become part of our culture to hire or appoint only people we know, or people that we owe favors to. I thought that her statement made it seem like the presidency, and Nigeria as a whole is there to serve the interests of the Buharis and APC. Now you can argue that in so many ways and we can allow it, but we can talk about that another day.

There are things that cannot be allowed. If the leader of a nation can say that his wife belongs to the kitchen and the other room, I do not know what to think of the majority of us. We cannot excuse this as a joke. We cannot even allow this misrepresentation of our people and the beauty of our values. I know that there is a trend of misogyny that so many people are paying so much money to package as politics. I  am speaking of the regressive orange douche Donald Trump. I get it, Americans are thrilled by his savagery like in Game of Thrones. I will always speak against people like Trump and the embarrassment he is to humanity. But we can be better, we are Nigerians and if our leader makes stupid comments like the one he just did, we must cry out in outrage and not just stop there. He has to be punished in some way for this.

This is more than a political issue. It is a humanitarian issue. Nigeria is already backward in so many ways as it is. We cannot afford to be facing the wrong direction, especially when it comes to issues that we can easily win with. We must be an example for the world to follow. We must stand up as humans and weaken the people that are trying to steal our humanity from us. 

As far as farts go, this is a Hurricane. And if we do not respond to it with the attention it deserves, then I do not think we stand a chance against the other problems we have. We should leave the guy that just farted in the room, and not choke on the stench of his posterior offerings. Forever, we would never forget the guy with the Hurricane fart. And congratulations Trump, you have inspired another leader to join you clan. 

Of Posterior Inconveniences

She knew she had to make a good appearance, so she took her time to dress for it. One thing you could not criticize her for is a lack of effort in making a fashion statement. Her nails, shoes, make-up, jewelry, clothes, her now trending bags, perfume and oh, hair (that would still be covered) were all on fleek. I could never tell how long it took her to get ready but I assume that it was a significant amount of time. She did not disappoint in this, but then again she never does.

But there are things you cannot prepare for. Even as a queen she could never insure herself of this unfortunate occurrence. Farts come from all sorts of assholes, all around the world, rich and poor alike. We all wish it was never a part of us. Judging by face value, it looks as though some people would never fart in their lifetime. But nature’s unhidden secret puts us all on the same level when it comes to farting. So long as you have an asshole, you must fart. Of course some have a talent for it. They are able to control their farts and bring it in when and where they choose. But the majority of us cannot stop a fart from coming, or fart when we want to. What we can do is hide it.

I have an impressive suppression technique that you could use to hide inconvenient farts. First, you breathe in a lot of oxygen, then breathe out slowly at first and then all at once, releasing the gas in the posterior direction. Allow it to ease out of you and cut it off halfway. Repeat this and you would have released the most treacherous fart without making a single noise. And if it smells, nobody will know it came from you, especially if you make effort to look like one of the people that could never fart. Even if they suspect you, they will have sufficient reason to doubt their suspicion and that my friends is how to avoid being caught farting in public.

Unfortunately, our queen did not have these tips. If you are in Aso Rock, please recommend me for one of those appointments, like special adviser to the first lady on special matters. Because I would have told her that nobody would judge her for farting in private. You see we all understand that every human has to get rid of that toxic gas. She won’t even look bad if she had farted in public. I would have advised her against putting a megaphone up her posterior region just before the gas came out. Heck even with all that, it would have looked better if she hadn’t put that much effort into putting out that much gas. Instead she took all the admiration I have been nurturing for her and used it to embarrass her people.

In case you do not have a thing for metaphors, go to this link:

http://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-37642282?ocid=socialflow_twitter%3FSThisFB

The Learner 02

So I promised to write more about the learner in my next post and my next has taken an awfully long time to come. I can only pray that it is worth the wait for both reader and writer. 

I have been thinking about how bad decisions come about lately because I am about to make a major decision. I woke up one morning of the wait to realize a few things I am going to itemize.

1.  Insufficient information: I once argued with the wrong mindset, to make a point and service the idea of being superior to those around me. The topic was feminism, and somehow I felt the need to share the recent information that I had. It turned out it wasn’t enough to win me the argument. To put it mildly, I got handed my ass by a teenager. But on further consideration, I just got exposed to a new angle on the matter, more information without which I would have been unable to make a good decision on the matter. In my opinion there is an information threshold that is required for good decision making.

2. Lack of Right of Judgement: Reflecting on that argument on feminism, I realize that I had a logically sound mind. Assuming I had sufficient information, I would have still fallen short on the matter if I did not have a strong enough will to do, say or consider the right thing. The problem with this problem is that you have to look deep within yourself to see it. We are often weakened by our own greed, selfishness or even pride among other things to consider the right thing. A lot of times the right things will not favor us, sometimes they will just be the harder options to take, and other times our minds are clouded by external pressures that they exhaust our will power.

3.  Biases: I recently learned that our mind thinks in patterns to process information faster and better. While this might be efficient for us, it has robbed us of the opportunity of questioning and learning new things, especially new people. This has also led to a lot of biases and prejudices that breed bad decisions. I have tried to avoid subscribing to a version of these patterns I call labels that make me see people within the limits of my experience or logical ability. Despite all my effort in being unbiased, I can only be utterly partial by default. Knowing this, I have to rewire myself to constantly open my mind and heart to learning newer patterns instead of reusing old ones so that my decision making process is more dynamic, more specific to every situation and overall more balanced on a case by case basis. This will definitely slow me down and my brain will struggle with me a lot every time I come across new information. But I am not yet willing to give in to my primal nature of processing decisions so I must fight it every chance I get. Only God knows who will win this uphill battle.

I have learned that either one or a mix of any of these three reasons can lead to bad decision making. Of course there are more ways a bad decision could come about, but I write only of lessons I have learned or I remember as I write.

Meet 'The Learner'

So I have not written here for a while and I miss that a lot. There are so many reasons why I have been avoiding this, but I can sum them all up in one word - 'Inadequacy'. What has changed that sent me running back here you ask? Lorrie Moore lend me the words to answer it best: “But that inadequacy, or feeling of inadequacy, never really goes away. You just have to trudge ahead in the rain, regardless.” 

So I have resumed the title of The Learner and that has helped me find the confidence to share my new blog posts. This new wave will have more than my thoughts. I have committed myself to learning everyday and I will be sharing as much of that as I can squeeze into these posts.  I will also be writing shorter posts to ensure that I only post what is important and make it easier for my readers to read.

In my next post, I will be introducing the learner to you. The learner has always been a part of me, and as I am maturing in every possible way, that part of me is becoming more and more relevant.

Write!

I woke up to an alarm that said 'Write'. I immediately felt the impulse to and I have to admit that it is the first time the alarm has worked since I set it some 5/6 months ago. Even though I can guesstimate when I set it, I cannot remember what motivated me to. Was it to hone my writing skills, build on them and improve by writing more random stuff? Or was it to write on my blog that always gets weird people reading from the ends of nowhere. I've always thought of my blog posts as an invitation for an alien abduction but some nosy humans happen to find it. Thankfully, I found a more private blog where I am sure only intelligent life forms can find. The point is not in being understood, but being found. And I think some aliens have found me from a planet far away in my head. They've landed their flying saucers on a rather contoured terrain - my brain, must have been one bumpy landing. Aliens could be that small. Maybe that is the reason why only NASA and some homeless people have interacted with them. Then again, they may not be the only kind that exist. There could be tons of variations that I cannot capture in my universe of a mind. Aha here's a good line.... it may be the reason why I write this: 

'The mind is a mirror into the universe'. 

I will not venture to explain further as most quotes are like that. Perhaps I will try to capture it more elaborately in a more extended effort. But I shall move on to other matters. Now that I think of it again, I am inclined to arrive at a less weirder explanation for that alarm. I could have set that alarm to commit to 1 hour of writing everyday as a moderately successful author once advised me. I don't know why I should take that advice seeing as I have no intentions of moderating my success when it comes. But I guess you take what you are given. Speaking of the success that I imagine myself having, I have been trying to write a book since I remember enjoying writing. I have tried a zombie apocalypse version of the Jos crisis (a rather mediocre plot that has suffered overuse), an espionage version of same (I am still into this idea) and a 'How I did it' story of my success as it is happening. None of this made it up to a chapter, although I have writing enough excerpts some 50 page long. But I think I will stay here and invite more aliens seeing as none of those hideous ideas can take me where I want to go. Now where to post it is the problem. I am drawn to think that the more targeted my posts are, the more my chances of being ignored by the most advanced aliens. They wouldn't want to contact the to-be abducted with the best alien PR. No I imagine the recruiter is looking for the most out of this world, yet normal individual on earth. So I will pretend to post it on my blog and sound as human as possible as I write every line. That makes me a more harder find, increases the thrill for the recruiter and may haps even bring me front of the line for the right abduction.

The Bride, The Miaden and The Girl

The young bride struggles to please. That is all she can hope to do, and she prays to find the strength to fuel this struggle. This part of the deed is not easy, she is never going to get used to this. She thought it would be happiness ever after and beyond once the wedding was over and all her plans went accordingly. Now all her plans went accordingly and the wedding is over but all she could do to latch on to happiness is struggle to please his family. Before now, her happiness dwelt on her ability to shut down the expectations of others including her family who were all against her marrying a boy that is far from where they are used to. If only they knew how far away from what they are used to she has gone. Now she finds herself trying hard to be accepted into a family she barely knows and play into an alien culture. Will they ever allow her to be herself or will they tie her down to their norms and traditions? Will he explain to them that she is different and stand behind her to make sure they accept her or will he demand that she does as they expect and take away her identity? 

The young maiden knows she is wanted but not wanted as badly as she wants to be wanted. She walked this road looking for this thing that is standing in front of her. Now that she has found it in this man, she can't seem to let herself have it, have him. She knows she cannot have him all at once, but she is troubled that she may not have him at all. To her, he is like a pearl that is better stared at from a distance than worn on one's neck for others to see. She saw him beckoning from a distance to her soul, he seemed a bit reluctant though. To her he seems to be covering up his desire although it shows in different ways. He mentioned it once but retreated the second she showed her own reluctance. But she can't fight this desire that is aggressively rising from her insides. It's a good thing that reality helps her keep it in check. She does not know how far the outlook that reality has framed up for her will last because she has leaped away from it a thousand times in a world that is parallel to this one. This world that mirrors visions from our soul's ideals. She might be crazy to think this but that leap has made her wish that both worlds will collide at some point and she won't have to travel between worlds to find a more perfect perfection. 

The little girl giggles recklessly. She has never been told of a world where her giggles could attract evil to her, yet she lives in one. She is shielded by the purity of her father's cruel kindness to her. His softness to her can only be matched by his brutal approach towards anything at all that threatens her. She is his precious gem and he controls who he shares her beauty with. The world is wired to destroy her innocence and steal her giggle away from her, from him in fact. It puts her on a path that makes her the direct target of every attempt at stamping out innocence and replacing it with fear. The sad part is she will struggle to have a mind of her own, one that reacts to the many threats she faces. She would not be accepted traditionally because tradition has been designed to reject her albeit when she is being used by it. She is going to be beautiful but only in the way that she is expected to be. She is going to be happy, but only as happy as the world allows her to be. 

Which Bag Will You Put Your Money In?

First of all, I am not proud of this post. Actually that is only mostly true because the only reason why I wouldn't want to sound like this is the same reason why most Nigerians jump into politics. See I am scared that someone someday may do a background check on me just when I am about to get that life-changing government contract signed, and I would loose it because of my colorful pen. But I think I can live with that while there are other ways of hammering in Nigeria (There is still a chance that that background check might not happen in any case.) So I am taking a break from being a conscious and serious Nigerian who uses everything he's got in an optimistic philosophy of making his life Nigeria better. The long and short of this is that I just want to be real for one post. 

So as many as about 70 million people are going to sacrifice their time to have their voices heard through their votes and they will soon find out this meaning of Democracy:

"Democracy: "The state of affairs in which you consent to having your pocket picked, and elect the best man to do it". Benjamin Lichtenberg

My version of this thought is more positive than Benji's own. It goes:

"Democracy: The state of affairs in which you hand over your money to the best dancer and you let him manage control how he uses it".

Let me explain, the state has oil money resources and these are managed by individuals we elect. Even though we are all entitled to all these resources, for the sake of order, we elect a few to control manage it. It is a way of owning something without having control over it, just the way artistes sign their copyright to the label for their "own good".  So in essence, 'ballot in the box' = 'money in the bag' (just so we are clear, state resources).

I should really end here but I have not gotten to the fun part yet, that is the Nigerian situation. Somehow the choices of most Nigerians lie between two bags, so welcome to the fun part.

The Scumbag

Mstcheeeew! All these idiots be acting like my feelings don't matter. whether you like it or not, they do, even moreso since I have been in every other conversation these past few months. So I guess we both agree I am popular. Popular enough to tell you this: like your fathers before you, most of you are suffering. And like them you think it is people like me that cause it. Your Father! If not for people like me, you will not even have a country sef. Some people think because they are younger than me, or more educated, they can talk nonsense. They should continue and we'll see who they'll come begging for a slice of the national cake from, after this election. I have already told them to arrange themselves very well or they will continue in their poverty. Thankfully sha, some sharp guys have  tried and they are now wearing my colors. Other idiots are going for that douche bag. Do you even know what a douche bag is? Let me tell you. It means: a contemptible or despicable person. Do you know what voting for a douche makes you? You better vote for me, oh because you don't want to know the answer to that last question. I might be mean, but I am not as low serving as that douche you keep disturbing people about. Just so you know, I am not a magician, I can't cure NEPA's epilepsy (you no get babalawo for ya village?) And all these boys looking for job, no be all of una go get am oh (lazy people! See how your mates are hustling in Lagos and you are begging government to do something for you). But I can sha promise you this, I will have smarter excuses than your celebrated douche bag if you vote for me.

The Douche bag

Is it my fault that Nigeria is the way it is? Did I invent corruption? These nonsense Nigerians will hustle and manage to travel to yankee and when they see that America is better than Nigeria they will start yabbing me as if na me dey take light for NEPA. Upon all the insults they pile on me, I am still the GSOTNC (Grand Shearer Of The National Cake), what's left of it anyways. They will insult me on Newspaper and online then after I send one of my boys with a tiny piece of the cake, they will change topic and start talking about Autistic children. See, me I am not against my fellow Nigerians because I still need their votes to win this election. If I don't win, nobody will hire me because... well I owe you no explanations. The person I dey fear na that Scumbag that is eyeing my job. Bros, I know you have been waiting in line, but no be for my head you go hammer oh. Just go relax, if na the cake you want, I fit arrange am for you na. But you sef dey vex oh. See yab wey you yab me.... As if a Scumbag is more righteous than a Douchebag. Why people come dey campaign for you sef? make you learn from your mates na. You know any 70 year old looking for the most difficult Job in Africa? Make you pity your children na. E for dey easier make you even go school (or maybe not, because we both know why you didn't go in the first place, hehe). Oya slow down, I go settle you after Saturday. You know say I be your boy na. 

This Saturday, the majority of Nigerians will be left with two choices where they can drop the currency for their socio-economic development. If you are a Nigerian, will you put your money in a douche bag or a scumbag? If you are not Nigerian, who do you think is worth your suffering, the douche or the scum?

This Neveruary

This was published last February before the election but it somehow disappeared. I wonder why.

The scientist looks harder into the telescope, he is bored of the problems here. He wants to create new ones out there. Are they out there staring back at him or are they already in the neighborhood? He knows the truth, but he has traded the freedom that comes with telling it for the power he was promised for keeping it. Can we have both power and truth at the same time or will we never know the truth about aliens? A few gods own the truth and they keep the power and they are not willing to share either with the rest of us. They want us to think that we can only get one or the other but their true intention is to make sure that we are only left with a delusion in our hands. They leave us wondering whether we should pay the price for truth and give up our power or pray that we never find out the truth that will haunt us. This Neveruary, he is going to find out whether to pay or pray and he will take the advantage of the power of truth from the self acclaimed gods of capitalism and share it with the rest of us.

Politicians fighting for power. An aging ruler vs a struggling simpleton. Who will win the race? With a vicious run for it, they find smart thinkers, and planted their seeds of reasoning. Some called it change others transformation. Some watered it with money, others placed a higher value for their conscience-more money. They added fertilizer on the seeds- all colors of religious and tribal sentiments, some good intentions (the kind that pave the way to hell) and the promise of a few big interests. The hungry streets grew with the seeds and the fruits of opinions were formed. The fruits fell on the ground and littered the floor. They rot and filled the whole air with their smell- this is the food of the streets. Soon, all you will ever know about those streets will be the fruits of the opinions. Except that the innocent children who are crying out for their future beg that they are not a part of the argument for the more appealing mediocrity. They do not want Goodluck to be their valentine and they do not want to see this Febuhari come to past. All they beg for is that politics be based on patriotism, fair judgement, and the right values. The politicians both backed down and said, you know what? They are right. Since we can't give them what they need, we will back down and find someone that can this Neveruary.

A lonely boy got popular. But it didn't help his loneliness. He has been lonely for so long that the few times he makes love with his right hand, he feels less human. Loneliness seemed to be his destiny until he fooled a girl to be a part of his loneliness. And they started sharing that loneliness together. He is not sure how long he can keep her there or how long he will want her to stay. But he spent valentine's day with her, unlike one of his friends who broke up with his girl for farting on a date two days before valentine's day. He even bought her a precious gift from a land too far away unlike his other friend who emailed his girlfriend a pdf novel she had been looking to read. All these he did knowing that he needed something for the future. So he gets proactive as he plans the next 10 steps. He wastes no time in finding ways to fill his future loneliness with friends he could replace his hand with or better yet friends he could fool to make a lifelong commitment to share and enjoy his loneliness. The only problem is that it is not the future yet, but he has started living it. He stops himself halfway into completely escaping into what he is enjoying and brings himself to the present where the innocent girl he fooled was waiting to share his loneliness. He will get rid of his projected happiness and be faithful to this girl and he will turn his loneliness into togetherness and have friends for the sake of friendship only, this Neveruary.

Life Hack- How to Rule the Friendzone Like a Champ

1. First, drink in the rude awakening: Accept that you are not being desired the way you want. This is actually hard until you let go of your sense of self entitlement, that feeling that you are supposed to be wanted, you are supposed to be needed, you deserve her/him. Fact is that you are not loosing out by letting go, you are simply accepting the fact that that person does not see you the way you see them. Admitting to that will help you keep a healthy dose of self-esteem.

2. Feel Bad About It: I know exactly how this sounds on the surface, it is not a real advice. But I have noticed that the reason why we undergo prolonged suffering is because we are in denial of what we are truly feeling. You already feel bad about it, but you try to remind yourself of little victories that negotiate that feeling. Bad news is, you will only draw yourself into a stream of uneasy battles, first with yourself then with the other person to overcome those feelings. Feeling bad about it is the right reaction, and the right reaction is a step away from the right next action.

3. Call it a bad idea: You like her/him, she/he doesn't like you the same way. The implication of this is that you two cannot have something special because you do not like each other the same way. If that was the picture of a relationship, you will not be happy, because you will outspend your energy in an unbalanced relationship. A status is not worth your happiness. Make it clear that your happiness too matters, and that is hinged on being desired in a special way. If this person is not willing to give you that, well then it means you have to find another that will willingly give you what you want. So in a nutshell, withdraw your desire and save it for another.

4. Be a friend: Duh! If she says she just wants to be friends, you realize that is all that you can get. My advice, take it. It might be very hard going back to being friends as normal, but journeying back to where you started is one way you can recover. Learn to appreciate the person as a friend and get rid of any extra expectations you have. This is what it means to be a genuine friend. This step is actually telling you to be selfless. What will you gain from this? There are no guarantees, but you would have done well in handling things the best possible way and if the friend does not appreciate you for that, I promise to give you a medal if you ever meet me.

5. Wear a cape, or at least a t-shirt:  I mean, be the bigger man, the matured party, climb the emotional high ground and operate from that level. The feeling of disappointing another might not go well with him/her, so put that into consideration and help the other party realize that you can actually be happy (if not happier) being friends. This will not only make the other person respect you, it will boost your self esteem and help both of you deal with the friendzone well.

6. Move on: This cliche is necessary, but you have to move on in the right direction and only after you have gotten over the negative feelings that welled up from the friendzone experience. Technically there is no such thing as a rebound from a friendzone, but watch that you are going for what you want, not running from what you cannot get.

This is all I've got on this. Remember you have to communicate all these steps, so be sensitive to know when to apply which step as they may not work out in any particular order.

History Makers and Wind Breakers

How would you feel when you are trying so hard to hold in a fart in a stuffed up bus then someone else decides to relieve themselves on you? I bet you will find your resolve weaken consistently until you yourself mix the air with a mess of your own making. That is exactly how corruption is in Nigeria. There are people that are trying so hard to avoid the temptation of looting public funds, so they can deliver quality public service. But along comes someone whose value system starts and ends in their stomach, that just lets out the ooze of their corruption and what do you think happens to the guy that is holding in his fart? The usual way of things is that the most honorable of them all usually lets out their gas slowly and hope that the intensity of the stench they offer stays a layer just beneath that of the guy that has spearheaded our collective suffering.

And therein lies the impact that fosters a breakdown of good intentions, the kind that pave the way to hell. The examples that we have been left to follow allow us to let out our less lethal farts in a place where the air is poisoned with the farts of our leaders past. 

I bet there are a bunch of guys that are running for office in 2015 thinking that well, I am going to make a difference. I will be accountable and transparent. I will be a revolutionary leader and Nigeria will remember me as a history maker. I believe that is possible, but you have to know what you are up against when you roll with that line of thought. You are going against a culture of corruption that has been established since 1960. And I realize that you imagine you will walk in there without even a fart up your ass. But know that the farts of the majority might just poison your stomach and if you choose to hold that fart in and be a history maker not a wind breaker, remember that the difference may not be clear if the whole air is poisoned. Clear the air and you can breath fresh air (not the one they sold us the last time), and ensure that you yourself are not poisoned by it. 

Freedom or writing, same thing...

I was going to start by asking how I got here. But I know very well how I got here, so there is no point bullshitting anyone. That's another thing, I swear a lot, most times in my head. I am very violent too, in my head that is. There a lot of things that go on in my head and that may shed some light as to how I got here, being a writer I mean. See, in my head I can easily travel the full spectrum of human and well maybe some immortal personalities, but how are you gonna fit all that into social interactions? No, conventional wisdom (that fucker) dictates that we be as consistent as we can be with such things that can be used to identify us as personality. It helps the observer (pretty much anyone with an opinion about you) to place us in the portion of the spectrum they are familiar with and perhaps predict the most salient and expected outcomes. See, it provides some sense of security (mostly emotional) for them. And you on the other hand want to be accepted, and people you threaten natural do not accept you. Seems like a bad bargain for me, but that's just me, I have no urgent need to be accepted. I am fine being the lonely exception, one more evidence that makes me look upon conventional wisdom with contempt. 

As usual, I start off like I've got a subject matter then I watch myself fly into every direction possible. Hey, try and change me! Cos this is what I called freedom. That I can fully dish out a thought and communicate crystals of intellect that my mind harbors. I'll stay on conventional wisdom for a bit so that I can find myself the much overrated closure. See conventional wisdom is some trick by immortals to suppress the rest of us (I have to identify with you guys yo!). They throw a net over us and suggest clearly that we can't venture past the boundaries. A few people go past the boundaries but only a handful get more than the foreplay. Those guys are facing the greatest oppression from those immortals they look better than. I'll like to drop this here and get back to my original thing cos my thoughts are starting to train on immortals.

That is another thing. How exactly is it that I can say some of these things I do with some measure of conviction, I know that my expressions may take away their essence (they are purer in my head). And I do not even have any reference or facts to back them up. I'll just wait for them to materialize in this reality or a parallel one. Maybe knowledge might just be a continuum. The bible clearly states that there is nothing new under the sun, so I guess we are all in a circle of knowledge. What seems newly discovered is simply a deeper search into something that was already there.

I will hold my pen here. But just so we are clear, I was just writing for writing sakes, you know, to get my writing juices flowing once again, freedom it is called, I believe!

Silence

I hear silence

I hear the streams of nothingness bounce off the walls of my mind

This stillness plays a familiar tone I have come to know

It beats the dud rhythms that I identify with more often than not

But I have to defy the articles of the law to do some justice to it

The true laws of grammar and the way of words

Permit me also to scale the walls of conventional literature

Do not be offended by my rebellion of everything conventional

I just don’t buy that shit

Now with words of a king I am here to proclaim silence my queen

She waits for me as I draw away from the world and mankind

She is always patient to make sure that we are both alone

I remember when I first met her

It was a long time ago, about my earliest memories

It was when I was first plagued by consciousness

When I first realized I had feet and teeth

Silence was my first love

Always there to embrace me when the world declared itself my enemy

She saved me when I was drowning in all the bullshit around me

She kissed me with the deepest passion when loneliness made mockery of me

Yes, silence is my first love

And we’ve both had a long thing going for a long time coming

One time, we had our unusual lovers’ spat and I turned to my brother for help

He rained my praises everywhere I went

And she got jealous, I couldn’t understand why

She was always jealous of people that posed no threat to her

So she made enemies with everyone and everything

My brother, my family, my friends, school, I mean everything that you can put together in words

I didn’t realize she had left me until one time when I needed her

When everyone around me seemed to fornicate with foolishness

And dwelt only on the surface of things

I have to admit that I floated to the surface too

Maybe that was why we had the problem

I took out my weight and just left her in the deep and went my way

Their way, the way of the world

Until I found that I couldn’t do without her

That my whole essence depended on her

That with her I could find the completeness that I sought

Then I started to seek her

I started to crave her voice

And all those conversations we had with no words

I remembered once again, all the peace she offered

And her selfless love, the kind I was counting on to help me find her now.

 And that memory did serve a good purpose

Slowly I started to ebb down that familiar road to her house

I closed up the books, turned off my friends

Made my way to the gate and boarded a cab home

I rushed through the door like I always did

The sound of automobiles receding behind me

I flung my bag to the floor, it’s usual place-anywhere on the floor that is

Slumping to my bed, I started to tune off the loudest noises

I made it down to the smaller details eventually

The distant voice of a radio from the next compound

The blue birds chirping away their time on the branches

The occasional tips and taps of random sounds

Could she be behind those drapes that seem to be hiding more than the view?

I didn’t wait for the answer to that question

I peeled back the curtains and made my way to her

I followed the sun, and everything beautiful it had to show me

And I got to the clearest of waters, so true I could only think of one thing

I dove in and went as deep as I could

So deep that not even the sound of my thoughts could venture

I made it to hers

And she stood as she opened the door, just before I knocked

Clearly she was waiting for me

The delight in her face paralyzed me when I realized I didn’t bring her anything

I was not only paralyzed, I was lost

I couldn’t find the words I had rehearsed in the mirror

Yet she figured me out and swallowed all my doubts in one embrace

Then came the release

The usual letting go of things that only the two of us were used to

But you couldn't rule out the awkwardness as we made an effort to adjust 

Afro Kungfu

[This is one day I wish I was Ofilispeaks.com so I can get those cool graphics on my blog...]
I don't even know why I picked that title, it makes me think of a Chinese man with an afro haircut. When did you ever see that in the Chinese movies you've seen in your days? This may be overstating it, but I think almost everyone has seen a Chinese movie. And maybe 3 out of 5 of those have seen the ones with terrible synchronization. I won't complain about those ones if I were you, because there are still the ones that had the terrible translation in subtitles only, and in the worst cases they transcribe the wrong movie which makes it equivalent to the base level of watching Chinese movies, the ones with no translation.
If you have filtered down that funnel of Chinese movies, congratulations, you are now a certified movie junkie. Now that I have found my kind, let me announce the one commonality in this group, we don't care about their dialog. We are just waiting to see the Kung Fu moves. If the fighting moves were good enough, the movie was good enough. The fluttering kicks and the dazzling twisting and turning stunts, oh boy, who needed to hear what they were saying? The good guy would always kick everyone's ass, sometimes up to a hundred guys at a time. I often wondered why they all wait around and take turns to make a move at him, but the second he throws one foot to meet a flying kick and mid air he does a roundhouse kick to swat another guy swinging his sword at him in the opposite direction, I give up scrutinizing the logic and on he goes. This keeps happening until he meets the bad guy toward the end of the movie and pulls the magic move on him to send everyone to a happy ending.
While that is the typical narrative of the average Chinese Kung Fu movie, not all Kung Fu stories go that way. In Afro Kung Fu, an angry mother or father would smack their kid at the speed of light, leaving the poor kid disoriented until he makes sense of the pain inflicted and he fills the air with the sound of his cry. There was always that awkward silence after the first round of beating when the child is trying to figure out the appropriate response to the situation-they were torn between utter admiration of the fluency of the moves and the accurate response that will ensure that a second round was not on its  way. Either that or  the children are slow like the bad guys in the Chinese movies, not knowing when the wrath of Afro Kung Fu was going to descend on them or even when it has descended on them. The pain is usually the element of reasoning when this has happened. And in Afro Kung Fu, you will find the dialog as intriguing as the fighting beating moves. The angry parent will always start with an impossible question, like what were you thinking when you lost the pen? I mean, how do you really answer that kind of question well enough to avoid a beating? Like seriously, let us attempt it. I lost my pen in school, should it not occur to you that if I was conscious of the situation, I wouldn't loose it in the first place? The only real answer to that question is 'I was thinking of loosing it, then I had to figure out how to answer this question all at the same time, and prepare my mind for your next move, then it happened'.
I have to give it to the parents though, in the event that it is not the anger talking, their real goal in the dialog is to ensure the annihilation of stupidity while the kid's goal is to make sure that dialog continues long enough for the parent's phone to ring or a neighbor to come knocking on the door, anything that could save the situation. And therein lies his weakness, the hope that the beating will not come. They all seem to have that type of hope. That hope is similar to the hope that once the pain settles in, the ridiculous tribal cry they give out will save them. I often wonder if the parents were pouring all their frustrations in that violent release as well. I think of how and when they learned all those moves. What I'll love to see is their moves against those in the real Kung Fu movies, it seems only fair.
I did not grow up on the receiving end of those moves. And I am doing okay, as far as I can tell. I wonder if African parents can find an alternative to the Afro Kung Fu. But I strongly recommend Afro Kung Fu as a sport, not to be tried at home! Somehow I thought to write this because of my neighbor, that's right, I am ratting her out! She is always angry every time she talks to her son. He is simply a defenseless opponent whose only move is to ensure that his words and actions align with his mom's mood. The second he goes off, she goes off like a loose canon. I think of confronting her mildly sometime at my own risk, just so I understand why she deems it necessary to give the young boy a beating all the time. I can hear her voice pierce through the wall, sometimes about the mundane things that are best hashed out with a gentle instruction. Until then, I do not know if parents still need this form of discipline and if they do, then I beg that we balance the equation with an alternative to the main bad guy the Kung Fu movie stars face at the end of the movie. That should seem fair.

Dark boeld

I am still skeptical about posting this, but I'll go on with it anyway. It is the first song I am going to admit to fully writing and it came in a dream. Yeah, in a dream, whether you believe it or not. My concern with sharing this song is that even though it captures a reality I have been through, it doesn't represent anything I believe in.It is intended to be one of those black, acid rock songs, and I hope my music skills develop well enough for me to read it someday before I die... . Here goes..

Your light darkens my day

When I see your smile, gloom drowns my heart

You've chained me to your way

You started this fire that burns me from within

Oh, how can I escape

The best thing that turned my world to gray

My reflexes worn out

You make me loathe every inch of life

You have trapped me

You have made my essence sore

My inklings betray me

What I had was what you bore

And nothing can save me

Nothing can piece back what you tore

I have lost the last drop of blood

Only tears run through my veins now

Dust clouds and sulfuric winds 

Is all I have come to know

Salvation seems nearer

It comes in chariots of death

How can this be hope

When it brings more pain than I have ever seen

And how can this be love

When it messes everything I have ever enjoyed

It was all good at the beginning 

Life was beautiful as the sun

You started out slowly

Wiping the surface of me clean of innocence

Now I'm stuck in a pit

Constantly sinking in its mud floor

My spirit has been made poor

Lacking any virtues to hold on to

You have ensnared me

You have made my essence sore

My inklings betray me

What I had was what you bore

And nothing can save me

Nothing can piece back what you tore

I have lost the last drop of blood

Only tears run through my veins now

Dust clouds and sulfuric winds 

Is all I have come to know

Salvation seems nearer

It comes in chariots of death

How can this be hope

When it brings more pain than I have ever seen

And how can this be love

When it messes everything I have ever enjoyed

I just made this last part up... if you feel like this ever, i'll be happy to share how I came out of this.

Read at your own risk

I caught an impression, half an inkling it was, a little larger than a speck of thought.

No it was slightly bigger than a hunch, yes it must have been some ginormous idea, an astronomic epiphany maybe.

Okay, I exaggerate. My words were hitting the ceiling of the universe already. I have out-scaled the essence of measure itself.

I will be calm and remain so. I shall appeal to the quintessence of modesty now. Stay humble dear self.

In all honesty it would have been worth dismissing this thought in the first place. A fart could weigh more on a scale of sensibility. My mind could have been up to no good when I thought about it.

But the truth in all honesty is that I felt like I hit gold when it first came to me. And I felt my ego buffed in the afterthought. Yes it was certainly something of sorts that could as well amount to nothing.

I know I should probably stop swinging my psyche in opposing directions. I am fittingly aware of the effects of frictional thoughts. I should perhaps disclose this thought and leave the judgment of it to beings outside myself.

Therein lies the disappointment. I don’t remember the details of that thought. It was almost as if my mind spat it out the second it was spotted, refusing to be associated with anything that constituted its semblance.

Maybe it’ll come back in the next dream. Or the next fart, or the next spittle…who knows? And when it does, I’ll have the confidence to justify making you read all these words.

For now I've got nothing, and I’m not making any promises. Be kind and unread what I have written as true as they are. Let these words go to waste, make room for them in your trash can.

These words say a lot about me, I know. I stop some conversations as soon as I utter their opening lines. And it pisses people off sometimes. Yet I am not the one to apologize for who I am.

The only explanation to that is that some thoughts take flight before they crystallize in my head. They are short ropes that I have not found use for. My mind discards them but the trash can is somewhere in my head. And I think it mixes up with some pretty nice and beautiful thoughts I've had and messes them up in the process.

Why bother then? Why go all out and even write this and share it with people when most of the stuff I've written may not be shared with anyone ever... I should probably stop this right now...

The Ultimate Pursuit...

It was desire that brought me here, the foot of the greatest pursuit. Everything I relished made this navigation clearer.  At first I was seeking myself, until it all lead to the end of me. There my creator was waiting to tell me that the end of me was not the end of ends. There was more to behold if only I journeyed beyond myself.

He said to me in the proverbial thunderous voice, “I am with you”. No doubt that was the voice of truth because it carried with it an essence consistent with everything that has been tested to be true and wise. I might struggle with describing this essence but I perceptively consider it accurate and complete in its depiction as truth; not the expression but the essence itself, or maybe both but more of the latter. My emphasis on essence is not injudicious, neither is it immaterial. For the unique make-up of everything that is subject to principles recognize and communicate (without inhibition) with the truth. Whether its actions are considered consistent with what it identifies as truth is beside the point, but I digress.

It was in that truth that a realization crystallized in my faculties that the line extended to Him, just where the end of me became clear. My creator, my source, the giver of life was the one beyond me, right where I was brought to my end. Suddenly there was more to seek, more to desire, more to venture, more to me. How did I become conscious of all these things you ask? I’ll attempt the most sensible answer, but I have to warn that it is unswerving from my initial discourse.

I was made aware of all the quests possible to me and I was made to taste of all the rivers of desire. As I journeyed in desire, I was made all the more empty by it, plagued by the default insatiability of man. I was journeying with men who had not only exhausted their desires but had a weight of years on their shoulders. They said to me, “… the real thrill is in the intensity of the desire; what makes it worth it is what we give up in the pursuit”. It was almost as if there were two balancing sides that measured the worth of our desires. On one side is the constant memory of what was lost in the pursuit, an endearing spuriousness of regrets balanced by the delight of a gratified desire on the other side.

And so on I went along the streams of desire which led to a sea where all pleasures wind up, the fate of men’s desires. This place had men who had pursued and conquered holding their trophies high for all others to see. A place of glittering commonness where men are told by what they have sought and got, wished and acquired, craved and consumed, conceived and executed. This place seemed glaringly glorious at first glance but I looked again and found that though it was the biggest pursuit for those men, none of them wanted to stay there once they got there. That place was only as appealing as the aspiration for it. Men wanted more. Some thought that the ultimate pursuit would be ruling that place and by implication owning the trophies of all other men, yet there was no place for two kings.

I stopped there and searched myself again, hoping that I might come in contact with the true origin of all my desires. And there I gained some measure of clarity. Like most men I was mistaken, I had missed the fundamental direction in my pursuit. My mistake was that I needed more, wanted more than me but instead of looking beyond myself, I chased my own cravings. In all honesty, that was just filling a black hole with all I have, knowing fully well that I would not be satisfied without it being completely filled.

My only recourse is to seek more than myself. I need to pick the other end of the line and journey towards my creator. In this I have found the ultimate pursuit. For my Creator is an endless line. Even if I had forever to infinity and beyond to pursue the end of Him, I will not reach the end of that rope. There will be more to relish, more unending pleasures to explore. The best part is that I don't have to wait to reach the end of myself to pick up the other end of the line, and that is what I am doing now. Seeking God, delighting myself in Him and enjoying the endless pleasures made possible by His true nature as God.

RUBY GYANG PERFORMS ''7 SECONDS'' WITH YOUSSOUR NDOUR

This is one of the most surprising things that has happened to me this year. Just yesterday, I was surfing the internet, on a monday (don't judge me) and I came across a video of Dido performing 7 seconds with Youssour Ndour  at a Live 8 event (The biggest African artiste as of now-yeah, big deal!). I was thrilled beyond measure. This was at Hyde Park in London. As I just finished, I saw another video of ND and the amazing Neneh Cherry at Africa Live roll back Malaria event in Geneva. Tracy Chapman is on that list as well and permit me to add the most recent addition to that amazing list world changers- Ruby Gyang. She performed the same song with ND in Lagos at the Etisalat Price For Literature. It was such a delight to open the link she sent me on G+. Yes she was amazing, yes she killed it, now go watch the video for yourself!

Fish in the gutter!

Originally written August of 2013...date may not apply.

 

That said, I actually saw this live! Fish in a gutter. I am no gadget freak, I would have had the proper camera to give you a picture. As though that wasn't enough, I saw some guys fishing in the gutter in Lekki!!!! I kid you not! As I was passing by the road I saw them with fishing lines and there was this big open drainage they were dipping it in. And I know that out of the 160 million Nigerians there are, only about 5 fish for fun, 3 others that fish for their families only but the rest of them sell them to the rest of us. Unless you live in Nigeria, you won't understand why you need the best of luck in the next fish you eat, just in case you get chosen by the wrong fish (you know how the fish in the market on the tray gives you goo-goo eyes? Word of advice, do not give in next time.).

I first heard about  that there were 3 fish in our own gutter, and the last time I checked, the guard (aboki) ate 2 of them. Now I haven’t seen any fish in my own gutter but I have heard splashes in the night. I remember staking out to catch a glimpse of the weird ones once but after about 20mins of inhaling the gutter smell, I gave up on the lead.

Sometime last month while taking a shortcut out of my street, I saw schools of fishlings and fish swimming in a gutter nearby. They were hanging out in dozens according to their age I presumed, each in their own school grade. When I spoke to someone about it, he said that a lot of people fish in the gutters of Jakande as well. There’s a hazy memory in my head that could confirm that because I can’t quite remember at this point whether or not I saw them at Jakande or imagined those ones. I didn’t think much about it until I saw 3 more fish in a gutter by Lekki roundabout.

The most logical explanation to why that is possible is that the fish were carried in the ocean surge and previous floods. That could be the actual fish themselves or their eggs, you decide. I didn’t read up on this so feel free to look it up and challenge my notions.

This experience led me to write a book, my first. I have written a few, but I am guilty of uncompleted books written on my phone, my many journals or even my email draft. Their spirits often haunt me in my sleep. Hopefully this one will give me the confidence to finish the others so they can all rest in one piece. This book is about the important lessons that  I am learning as an entrepreneur and focuses on how I am able to adapt as an entrepreneur in Nigeria.

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