Christmas Abi?

Yes, it's Christmas. So fuck what?

Ok, that's probably not a good way to start. I mean, it's the day of the birth of the Baby Jesus. And if you actually believe that, then you have a serious problem. December 25th was not the day Jesus was born. In fact, I don't imagine that anyone alive knows exactly what date he was born. The 25th of December was simply picked by the Roman Catholic church to mark his birth.

Ok, so it's a day to "mark" the birth of Jesus. Fine then, let's move on.

Today's been quite irritating for me. Some would expect that I'd be all ecstatic cos it's the first Christmas in 10 years that my mom's gonna be around for Christmas, but honestly? Everyone, & by everyone I mean everyone, is irritating me. From my old man to my sis. They're all pissing me off. Honestly, all I would like right now, is to sit with a few friends, smoke some really good weed, have a few laughs, & be happy.

But maybe that's just me whining. I know that there's people that would kill to be me right now. So I'm definitely grateful for what I've been given. But I am also quite human. So forgive me if my attitude is shitty.

I stopped saying "Merry Christmas" a few years ago. At some point, I realized that saying that was just a bloody lie, cos honestly, ain't nothing merry bout these last few Christmases...so these days, I say "Christmas to you". You want anything more?? I can help you find a transformer to hug.

Anyways, dinner's in a couple of hours...hopefully, I'll be able to get some pot for my cousins & I to have a lil after dinner bake.

So, good reader, Christmas to you. Hope you got what you wanted for Christmas (I didn't get shit).

Nighttime Reflections…

So….today was…interesting.

I think today was probably the most indecisive I've had in a long time. So, originally, my plan was that I'd go to that whole Lekki/Ajah area today; I'd go to Le Beau's office to say hi & pick him up, then we'd go visit Angulu, who I hear is real sick. Then I'd drop off Le Beau at his office & go to Phase 1 to meet up with Kite, go say hi to my friend Eniola (who I haven't seen forever), and the we'd all go meet up with Serial Licker & share a joint together… that, was the plan (quite a lot of things abi??)

But then I woke up this morning, & I remembered that it was Lekki I was planning to go to. One word: TRAFFIC!!!! So, as I get outta bed, with another plan: Lekki, on Saturday. Today, I'll go get a haircut & chill with the fellaz, so tomorrow I can hang out with Maggie…

So I call Maggie & ask her if we're seeing tomorrow & she says she can't make it, how about Saturday? Okay to be honest, we'd already agreed on Saturday, but I was just trying to wyne her into coming tomorrow. So I figure, well, I'll shift Lekki till next week & see Maggie on Saturday. So I'm still gonna hit Ikeja today.

Next thing, Little Vixen sends a DM asking when we're going on a date….and just like that, this Panda that has been complaining that he's broke, is making plans for a movie & ice – cream… when Maggie called & I told her I was at Ozone, I was honestly as surprised as she was…

Speaking about my date, that's the first date I've been on in God knows how long. Little Vixen & I get along quite well over the phone, so I wasn't surprised that we got along in person. We started out by playing some video game - Mortal Combat VS DC (Beautiful combat game by the way) – where I totally kicked her ass. I had to let her win one round…you know…just to be a gentleman (chai, if she should read this blog I'm in trouble!) but the fact that she actually plays video games, and combat games and all is such a huge turn on for me…it's so crazy…

So we go get our tickets, she wants to see the new Harry Potter movie. That's aight. I wanted to see Tangled though… :-D… So we watch the movie, & it was cool…we were all cozy & stuff….

Mehn…giving a minute by minute narration of a date is work o! Me I'm tired joh! The point is sha that I enjoyed it! Wouldn't mind going out with her again. & since she said the next one is on her, I'll definitely take her up on that.

So yeah….I had a good day. Despite my whole bit of indecisiveness. It was really fun hanging out with Little Vixen. She's a touchy, feely person like me so there was no weirdness….anyways, I had a good day up until….*sigh* I'm not going to talk about it. I don't see the point in talking about something that's past, & cannot be changed. What's done is done.

Anyways, I just thought I'd do a lil' "Dear Diary" bull shit…I need to work on memorizing a poem I'm supposed to do at Chill & Relax on Sunday… let's get to it!

After a Minute

It's been quite a bit…

I've written a few blogs which I'd planned to post up, but they all seem so past tense to me. Maybe if I'd taken my time out to put them up as they were happening, it would have been alright. But well, let's move on to the present. There's no better time than that is there?

So, what's been going on? This weekend was a very….eventful one I should say… starting off with Saturday, I finally got my tattoo. It's my mom's name, inked across my left wrist. Thanks a lot to Dawn for that birthday present…. But of course, that story has a bit of K leg…. Thanks to my friend Kite, I got really, really high on Friday night. Yes….really high. So high that, when I went to get my ink done, I totally forgot to tell the dude precisely how I wanted it done. So….it's not like I don't like it. It just looks….somewhat outta place. Vanity said she doesn't like it. She thinks it's messy… and while she may be right, perfection isn't as important to me as is the reason for the tattoo, which is my old lady. I will be getting a lil' something added to it though. Something to give it a bit more structure…. & yes Vanity, I will be using a different guy this time…As soon as I can find the extra cash for it, it'll be done. And no, I won't be putting up a pic of it till it's all done and healed properly.

Moving on…… Saturday night came, & with the late night came things I didn't expect. Discussions regarding my behavior and manner of conducting myself, and discussions about my total lack of regard for her feelings. Then came the question which I didn't expect to hear, and with the answer that came out not to harm, but to be truthful, came a torrent of pain and emotion.

What was I expected to do? Stay in the same place? That really couldn't happen. So I'm trying to move on as best as I can. To cut off ties to the memories and thoughts that keep me awake at night and leave me unhappy, close to tears, missing that which once was. That which was taken from me without even prior notice; one minute it was there, the next minute my heart was splintered all over the floor between the doors of my hostel dorm & my neighbor's door. I did, I have done, & I still do what I can to struggle through. Having to place a cold box where my heart should be just to stay alive and looking for anything to fill up a soul gone hollow with the evaporation of faith in everything beautiful…

But I don't need to explain myself. In fact, I won't. I gave a lot of warnings, I guess now the realization comes to bear. I don't even mind if I'm hated if it'll help her move on. All I want is that she does. Cos, me and her, I don't see it anymore. I wish I did, but I look at me, and the changes is my life, the changes in my perceptions and expectations; and then I look at her, and realize that she's still that same person. She still shoulders the same responsibilities, still wants the same things…it wouldn't work.

Took a while for me to finally come to this conclusion… *sigh*…so now I'm just trying to do me. I don't want anything else. That's all. Nothing extra, no added preservatives, just me.

Does that make me unkind? Or unfair? Or uncaring?

A Step In The Right Direction

YES!!!!!!!

So, I finally submitted my proposal to my professor this morning…

After all my yarns about finishing it on time and all that shit, I still wasn't done with it by yesterday morning. Imagine the shock and horror I felt when I walked into class yesterday morning, and I saw my professor standing right there… the man had been outta town for two weeks, cos his elder brother died. So he ran out. That was what had been saving me cos I know that if he'd been around, I'd have gotten a good tongue lashing or two for not having it ready.

And the truth is that I'd have deserved it. I spent the entire weekend in Gidi, getting up to some good old nefarious activities, and pursuing carefree hedonism (all that is simply big English to say that I spent the entire weekend catching trips) and my back has the scars to prove it.

Anyways, so I show up to class, and he's there. So at the end of the class I mumble some story about not knowing that he'd be around, and I'd have it printed and on his desk by 11am the next morning.

Needless to say, I was gonna be awake quite late trying to finish up. So, I worked late, mixed up with late night, long chats with one cute lil' thing that I've been chatting with recently (quite a charming girl…pity I'm not accepting relationship applications for now), and I finished my proposal sometime around 3am…

I turned it in, half expecting him to send me back. But then, he starts reading, and he's nodding, making a few adjustments here and there, and then he goes "this is very good. You can move on to chapter 1."

HA!!!!!

So, after a quite interesting weekend, and this….I'm as happy as a puppy with two tails….

Big ups to Shawty, Khems and Le Beau for being so encouraging…I totally appreciate it…

Anyways…I just felt like cranking out a lil something…I have a couple of things I'm trying to write about. One's called "Female Mythology". It's about Nigerian women and the misconception they have about Nigerian men…the other…I don't know what it's called yet. I don't even know if it's prose or poetry…all I know is that it's quite angry, and it's about Nigeria… I might even write about the scare I got this weekend…

Gotta go now…I've got a class…

Peace, love and soul.

Taking a Break from Work

*DeepBreath*

YES! I know I have work to do, and this is quite an odd hour to be talking about music, but I'm too tired to do anything else, so I may as well be a bit constructive…abi???

So I've been listening to music. Yep…quite a few Nigerian artistes have caught my eye recently… Kas, Ms. Con.tra.Diction (I hope I spelt that right), Show Dem Camp, Airis….and quite a few other people. But, I'm gonna talk about Airis, Show Dem Camp, & Con.tra.Diction. Cos they've really impressed me recently.


Ladies first, so lemme start with Airis.

First off, lemme state that Airis is a very hot, half Nigerian, half Egyptian woman, so my judgment may be thrown off a bit by that fact that she's so hot, but I doubt it. When I first heard about her, I thought she was gonna be another good looking woman who imagined that her fine face would make everyone partially deaf so we wouldn't realize that her voice was a waste of time (especially with the way her debut single "Without You" kicked off).

Was I ever wrong.

She has a voice that reminds me of a person that spent a lot of time listening to Sade Adu, Madonna, and other legendary pop divas, but somehow or the other found time to listen to Yoruba songs when she was younger; producing this really sexily blended voice that is obviously international, but still manages to be Nigerian. Kinda like a girl who you can take to a big dinner with international guests and all, and then the next day you take her to see your grandma in your village, and she blends into both situations very well. Kinda like that.

Her debut single, "Without You" is really cool. Her voice comes off really well over the instrumental, accentuated quite well by the tambourines and drums. The tambourines gave the song a little Arabian/Egyptian feel to it, which is just as well since she's half Egyptian anyways. A part of the chorus is in Yoruba, which just made me fall in love with her singing even more. I also heard another of her songs called "Sick in Love" featuring Ice Prince, and "Fly Away" which I liked as well, but in all honesty, not as much as I like Without You… I hear her album "The AiRis Project" is scheduled for release in November. That isn't too far off, so I won't die waiting.


Onto some people that are a little more recent in terms of emergence, let's talk about Show Dem Camp (SDC).

Now, the first song I heard from these guys, was this crazy song featuring Lynxx called "You Dey Crase". I heard that, & I thought to myself "we may have something good here"…really cool, mixtape kinda jam. Punchlines flying left & right…& Lynxx killed his verse. I was happy. Then I heard "Farabale". Lemme be honest, I didn't really dig the first dude's rap, but I LOVE THE SONG!!!! I really don't know how to analyze it…the chorus reflected the way a lot of naija boys feel about chics who are just gold-diggers, and MayD has quite a good voice. I really think these guys are definitely gonna go places.

By the way, the tees they're wearing in this picture are from my cousin Tenne Fatona's clothing line DNA Genes, so big ups to him! Whoop whoop!!! (I digressed abi???)

If you haven't heard "Farabale" by Show Dem Camp feat MayD, here's a link for it. http://www.4shared.com/audio/nO3AWXyw/Farabale_-_SDC_ft_MayD.html


Let's go with Con.tra.Diction now…

First off, I've met her quite a few times, with those crazy ass socks she always wears, & I have to say, she's a darling psycho. I heard her song "Superstar", & my faith in the hope for alternative music in Nigeria was renewed. The instruments were on point, and her voice gives off that rock chic thing that rock lovers (such as me) really like. Throwing in a bit of Yoruba into the song (Oju l'oro wa) was a fantastic way of making sure we didn't forget that it was a Nigerian tune. All in all, a fabulous song! Con.tra.Diction seems like someone we're gonna be hearing quite a lot from in the future… In the intro to the song, if you listen to the voice in the background, you can hear her say "this is the diary, of a mad black woman." I hope that's gonna be the title of the album…seems quite befitting…

I hear she even has a band!!! That's just really cool. If I ever decided to sing publicly (yes, your Panda has a good voice) I'd definitely love to jam up with her…

Of course, here's a link for Con.tra.Diction's "Superstar" if you don't already have it… http://www.4shared.com/audio/YNlqY89g/SuperStar_CONtradiction.html



So, these are the artistes I'm loving right now…hope their albums are as banging as the singles they have out… Fingers crossed!

Gotta go now! I'm a bit swamped with work so…. I'll blog later okay???

BYE!!!

A Wack Weekend

Reader, hope you're having a good weekend so far...I'm not.

Wow...

I'm...swamped with work. So much work that I don't even understand where I'm supposed to start. I've been scared to even write about it cos...I don't know...maybe writing is one of the things that matters the most to me. And so writing about it would only make this problem even more real...so I've been putting it off. Trying to work on poetry/spoken word...but the blocks in my head don't seem willing to go down, or to let me jump over them to write any thing worthy of being called poetry....-although, I started writing something that I really like, and I have ideas for it...but I just seem to be stuck somewhere.- So lemme write what my brain will allow me to...

It's been a crazy semester so far...being in final year is so much more work than I imagined that it would be. I just finished the first  page of my proposal for my final project, so you can see that I've gotten basically nowhere on it. But I know that it has to be ready to mail to my supervisor before Monday...only God knows how I'm going to do that, all I know is that I will. I've got assignments left, right & hitting me on the head...I've barely even started studying... I was supposed to have a test on Thursday. Thankfully it was cancelled cos of some seminar thingy my department was organising. I have no idea if I'd have been able to do well on it. & when I don't do well on a test, it throws a lot of pressure on me for the exam cos I know I'll have to really put my back into it to knock out an A...I really hate putting pressure on myself.  So...I'm glad the test was cancelled sha. At least I know a little bit more on the course than I did last week, & when I start preparing for it, the concept of projects, programs, plans, project cycles, & all that other horse shit won't seem so foreign to me.

Damn.

But...I know it'll be aight. I'll manage. I always do. No matter  how much bitching I may be doing right now, no matter how difficult things may seem, I always find a way to make it above the line. Whether it's 70 or 89, I've learned that an A is an A. So all I need to do is shoot for it.

Sometimes I wonder to myself when academic excellence started to matter so much to me...cos...I failed my way through secondary school...like I was a total failure. My old man threatened me when I was about to write WAEC, that if I failed, he was gonna carry me to some vulcanizer or tailor or something so I could start learning a trade or something...lol...those were scary times. I think, the day things started to fall into perspective for me, was the day Le Beau spoke to me. He told me that he understood me. Probably better than anyone else did. And he knew that all I had to do, was to really want something, & then work towards getting it. & nothing could hold me back. I believed him...I didn't fail WAEC...& when I got into Uni, I put the same theory into practice...the rest is history. That's why, I know I can do what I want. As long as I really wanna do it, I can.

So I'll be fine.

I'm actually happy I wrote this blog. It's sorta like a pep talk for myself....lol.

Anyways....there's work to be done. Last weekend was just trips...parties, drinks, home-made water bongs, chics...I had, the craziest margaritta ever...damn! That drink packed one heck of a punch!

But this weekend is gonna be serious...and so is my week.

Next weekend though....!

Better be a good one... Sundays At The Bay! : "Bikini's & Water Guns." I'll definitely be there...

But for now, back to work..

Posted via Blogaway on my Android Device.

Been a minute.

It's been quite a bit since I put  up  a blog about anything sensible....I still don't  have much to say right now. I just thought I should at least write something to remind y'all of my chubby  existence.

One reason I haven't been writing much, is  that I'm trying to work on spoken word. Yes, this Panda is trying to delve into poetry. I've been really inspired by poets  like Black Ice, Shihan, J.Ivy, Rives, Sage Hasson...you can find them all on YouTube.

So, I've been  trying my hands out at that...it's somewhat difficult, but I'll get the hang of it. Right now, I've got this very........"ashewo"ish poem I'm writing...inspired by recent activities &...that's besides the point...anyways, I've got this  really long piece I'm writing...hope I'll be able to memorise it.

School's really stressful...that's all the bitching I'll be doing about it. Cos if I go on, I may not be able to stop. But I know I'll get through it...don't have a  choice

Wow...I'm falling asleep. I'll put up something sensible soon...I promise. In fact, I'm gonna put up a post on 3 artistes I'm feeling at the moment! Can't wait to finish it.

Okay bye!!!!

October 13.

Today, as we spoke over the phone, I could almost see you staring at me with those big brown eyes that I always felt I could dive into without even having to try.

You promised you would try. You said today was the last time you'd do anything to bring a tear to this grown man's eye.

Today as we spoke, I could hear the sound of your voice so sincere. You promised me you'd always be there

The way you felt was deeper than simply saying that you cared.

You loved me as big as the sky; you loved me to the moon.

Today was a year ago. You left me two months before the end of June.

But this poem isn't meant to point fingers, or say you broke my heart.

This poem is an ode to a relationship we thought would never fall apart.

This poem is a testament to the fact that we couldn't test what wasn't meant to be.

You see, when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object, it's bound to end in catastrophe.

We may have been an unlikely pair, but we loved each other, you and I.

You loved my big belly; I loved your nappy hair.

I loved the taste of your lips, like the taste of sugar sprinkled all over a juicy pear.

Together we were always meant to be, and the idea of you without me was something we couldn't bear to see, let alone handle.

Our love was impossible to hide, like putting under a bed a lit candle.

We were meant to be forever, but forever moved faster than we expected. Fast forwarding us to a point where we could love no more,

And the hope for a future had been turned to us glancing at the past, reminiscing on those days…

Forever fast forwarded us……into today.

The Morning's Musings.

6:45AM

Facing yourself with the truth is never an easy task. Admitting to yourself that you've omitted something, or gone astray in a particular way, can be the  most difficult thing that any man can be asked.

It's so much easier to just sit & stew in feigned ignorance of your wrong doing than to come to terms with it.

Coming to terms means facing the  consequences of what you've done, and admitting to yourself "Yes. This was my fault."

These consequences could be anything. Seeing a former lover in tears, & knowing that her heart is in pieces because of you. Or looking at your CGPA in your final year & realizing, that you'd played away 4 years of your life, & quite a large sum of money. It may even be attempting a workout in Capoeira,& realizing that can't even make it halfway because you've gotten very horribly outta shape... realization could come to you in any number of ways.

But a lot of the time, we choose not to take the high road of admitting the truth. Black Ice said "ignorance is bliss & niggas love this, so they take pride in not knowing."

But the truth is, the truth of your ways will come to you sooner or later. If it doesn't come to you when you're looking in her eyes & seeing the pain you've caused, it'll come to you when you've left a string of shattered souls in your wake, & the curses of these scorned women catch up with you, & you find yourself all alone. It'll catch up with you when you have to show the skill you're supposed to have acquired as a caporista, & you can't, because you're so outta shape, you can barely even do the most elementary of drills.

Whatever it is that we run from, will catch up with us someday. No matter how fast we may try to go.

I decided, a few months ago, to stop running. From everything. Now, I live. I wait. For whatever it is, to come meet me. Some people may look at me & think I'm running from God, but the truth is, I'm tired of this song & dance. Now I watch... will He remember me?? I simply wait.

In other ways, I'll do what I can to manage the concequences of sitting back & watching my stomach evolve into a fluffy ball, & the strength I possessed, fade away... Time to start some workout routine or something...

Face the truth, grow a pair. Set yourself free.

The Need For Knowledge

So, it's the 18^th of September, 2010. This is officially the last weekend I'm supposed to spend in Lagos until Uni closes for Christmas in December. Of course you & I know that is completely impossible, & I'll be back in Lagos as soon as something of interest calls out to me. But that sort of information doesn't really need to be available to everybody now does it.

And it's funny I should say that, because the idea of me concealing information, brings to mind a blog post by Le Beau, where he talked about the strength of information being in the measure & fidelity of it. That actually makes quite a bit of sense. And in truth, information is concealed by different people from people, for a whole mixed up set of reasons. And I'm in no position to judge anyone, because here I am, not telling my dad that from time to time, I may just leave school and come into Gidi to hang out with my boys, or to liaise with some cute girl or the other, or for whatever reason.

So why do people hold back information from each other? To maintain some form of peace of mind? Because of course there's always that old saying "what you don't know won't hurt you." How many of us actually believe that? And what gives any human being the right to decide how much we should know? Human judgment is, most times, quite deficient. And so the choice to keep knowledge from a person may just be an act of unkindness. Example?? Back in the medieval age, the commoners didn't know how to read. They had to live their lives from day to day without the information that would have been able to set them free from bondage, and create a more egalitarian society. At that time, the nobility claimed that it was for "their own good", but of course, we know now that it was simply a way to maintain control over the masses. Ignorance is in truth an open prison.

That being said, if ignorance is an open prison, and the truth supposedly sets you free, then that should mean that everyone is in some form of prison or the other, because at every given point in time, someone, somewhere, is keeping some information from you. For whatever reason it may be.

My dad & I had a bit of an argument yesterday. I told him, that since I got home 3 months ago, if it's not one thing, it's another. He says to me that I should go and check myself then, to "reflect & find" what I'm doing wrong. I asked him, why he doesn't simply tell me what it is I'm doing wrong, & I can sort myself out faster that way. But for reasons best known to him, he decides to leave me in the dark, in this prison of ignorance where I keep messing up & he keeps getting pissed off…

Personally, I wanna know as much as possible. I wanna learn all there is to learn. I wanna know what the real is. Knowledge and experiences are what differentiate me from the next person. So, like Colin Firth said in Dorian Gray, sometimes, it's just about the next experience…the next sensation. The next thing that I didn't know. Thanks to an ex girlfriend, I've developed an even more over active desire for knowing the truth. Even when I know that it may not necessarily do me the least bit of good. But well…it's just one of those things…

Just talking…

So…there isn't a particular theme, yet again. I just feel like talking. You don't even have to read it.

Insomnia has kicked in full throttle again tonight, so all I can do is sit and think about all the stuff that's happened in the last few days.

I went for this artsy kinda show in VI on Sunday called "Chill & Relax". It was quite a bit of fun. My man The Perv Nerd did a real funny piece on "Just Saying", and some dude who's name I have not the foggiest memory of, did a real beautiful piece called "Hope is a Nigerian". Now that was a really good poem.

I, for the first time ever, read out one of my pieces in public. I did "My Pen Forsakes Me". I hoped they liked it sha… anyways, after I did that poem, I kinda started thinking about someone that used to be my friend. We were…so close at some point, & in truth, she was the one who pushed me to write. She always wanted me to write more…and there were times when we'd be awake till God knows what time, just reading stuff to each other. But then, we both got into uni and….drifted away from each other. Anyways, after reading that poem, I realized that I didn't want her to not be a part of my life anymore. There are some friends that should never be lost and for me, she's one of those. So I called her. And told her everything that was on my mind. I basically asked if we could be friends again…I wonder how that's gonna turn out.

Somewhere along the line, I asked her to tell me something totally random that had changed in the last 3 years, & she told me she'd left her boyfriend…that's a story for another time…when she asked me the same question, I told her "I don't love Love anymore. I used to complain that Love didn't love me…but Love showed up. She brought someone, & showed me love. But Love hurt me. Real bad. & now, I don't love Love anymore." I didn't understand how true & heavy what I said was but…now I do…and it's true. But…I won't expound on that sorta sadness…won't help anyone.

Anyways, carried a cake to one of my dad's peoples today…*sigh* the smell of the chocolate was just…way too tempting! Now I want cake…anyone feel like donating 4k to my life??? *sigh*…must have chocolate cake with fudge icing….must…have…

Aahh….I feel sleep calling now….in your face Insomnia, you cruel, demanding mistress…lol…

Pissed Off.

I've got itchy fingers, and the slight buzz of alcohol has worn off…so I guess I'll just write a bit…

Today was not a very good day. I wrote in my Morning's Musing, that I woke up feeling cranky as heck right…??? Well that bad feeling spread into the day.

First off, I found out that I'd short paid my school fees because I forgot to factor the increase in the fees, so I didn't calculate it properly. And these idiots were actually going to make me go all the way back home, just because of N25,000!!! God knows I was so frigging pissed off!!! Thankfully, I have friends. They hooked me up with the cash and I got that sorted. Now after that, nothing really happened. I'm done with registration. Glad about that. But then these idiots I call executives in my association just have to start pissing me off! Our supposed president just doesn't understand how to manage people, and everywhere is kinda topsy turvy at the moment. I'm not even in the mood to talk about that. Anyways, I was supposed to print something out from my old man, but I totally forgot. So I go to my uncle's place to use his printer. It took me 30 fricking minutes to get the bloody printer installed on my laptop!!!! What's worse? The bloody thing I went there to print?? I forgot it over there!!! ARRRGHH!!!!

Now I get home, I'm exhausted, I want to sleep, and my friend's gf decides she wants to hang out with me this evening. So they come get me. I'm trying not to be a spoilt sport, so I go on with them. Somewhere along the line, quite far into Magodo, his car breaks down!!! Can things get worse??? So now, the three of us abandon his car there and start walking. And what a walk it was!!! If I thought I needed the exercise, I'd have come packed with running shoes and shit! The only thing that made the Israelite journey worthwhile was the nice bottle of South African Red Wine we were passing between ourselves (ordinarily, I hate red wine, but this was actually nice).

Anyways, we drop his gf at home, I come home…now my dad's busting my balls. Talking to me about baptism, & when I'm going to do it, and how not doing it is a sign of irresponsibility…and all this shit. And then, he starts saying how it's because no one forces me to do anything, and a whole lot of bs.

Apparently, he's going to put me on a spiritual blackmail p. If he doesn't see a "change" in me (ie, I have to start going to fellowship, night vigils, holy ghost service and all that stuff) he's going to start treating me anyhow. As if he's been particularly nice before.

FUCK!!!!!!

I honestly can't wait to get off his wallet. Like really. Cos that's the only reason he can do all this kinda stuff. I'm so pissed off right now. It's a shame because he doesn't realize that he's one of the major reasons why I've never really developed a "relationship" with God. I look at my father, and what being a Christian makes him, & I'm not so sure I want to be like that. In all honesty, maybe I'll be able to be at peace with God when I move out of this man's house. Because I just can't see it right now. I mean, forcing a person to do something that should ordinarily come from the person's own free will??? It's like forcing the donkey to the stream. Fine. You've dragged & kicked and pushed, & finally gotten him to the stream. That doesn't mean he's going to drink a thing. & if he doesn't drink, then what the fuck was the point of dragging him there in the first place? All you've ended up doing is creating animosity between you and the bloody donkey. And that doesn't do anyone any good now does it???

I'm just so pissed off at him. He thinks he's dealing with a kid, who'll do as you say, no matter what you say cos really the kid doesn't know anything, and therefore you can force him into doing things so as to create and enforce behavior. I'm not 4 frigging years old! He's trying to do now, what he should have done 10, 15, 18 years ago. When my mind was still impressionable. But then he was too fucking busy with work, and church, that he didn't have time to look at his son. To try ro raise his son and cultivate behavior in him. And now in my twenties, he thinks that shit is going to do him any good? & it's a pity because, any reasonable person would see where he'd gone wrong, and then try to find other means. But as far as he's concerned? He's never done anything wrong. He's always done what was best. It's what we are doing to him….it's just…..bullshit.

Just one more year, then I graduate. Then I can start trying to plan out a life that will sever my financial umbilical cord from his as fast as possible.

I just can't wait…

The Morning's Musings

September 8, 2010. 7:08AM

It's a new day huh...whooptiedoo.

Don't get it twisted, I'm glad I've been able to see the day. There's a lot of people that would kill to be in my shoes. But let's be honest. There's just some days when you wake up & you're just.....fucking crancky.

I guess this is one of those mornings.

Anyways, there's stuff to do today. Have to be in school early. Officially, this is the day we're supposed to be resuming & stuff. But obviously, I'd gone on ahead since last week Friday to sort out a whole lot of things. So the only thing left for me to do right now is just to pick up my course form & get it stamped.

But then, for you that's just abstract talk isn't it???

Woke up this morning, thinking about a friend of mine. We had a bit of a fight about 6 months ago, & we still haven't talked & settled shit. I mean, we talk o. It's not like we're forming vexation for each other, it's just that for me, underlying the handshakes, and the laughter & all that we do when we see now, I feel the grouse there. The fact that we both feel that the other person did something wrong in some way or the other, & it hasn't been addressed. Funny thing is, he may just have mentally swept it under a rug, or filed it among the things that he considers unimportant, cos that's really the kinda guy he is, but for me, it's not like that. I hate having things like that at the back of my mind, cos I know that if it's not settled, a day will come when something will happen, something seemingly trivial, & everything will come bubbling out like lava from a volcano or something...

Ah well...I don't know...to confront, or let sleeping dogs chill???

I don't know...

Good morning reader. Hope you have a good day...

The Morning’s Musings

8:46 am.

*Yawn*

Good morning….

This one is coming out a lil' bit late… of course, I was awake by 5:45am, supposedly so I'd go running…but I think all the running about I did yesterday in school, registered in my body as enough running for the day… That's just the easy way of saying that I didn't go running this morning and rolled over & went back to bed…

Speaking about yesterday…Good Lord… I went to school for a few reasons. Firstly, efficiency was worrying me. I wanted to go & see if I could start registration ahead of time like I always do. And second, I wanted to take a look at the new set of year 1 girls…I'll tell the truth, I was very far from impressed. I'm hoping that the hot ones were maybe a bit late, & they'll be around from today and stuff…else wise, this year isn't going to be remotely as interesting as I hoped it would be… yes yes…I plan to make sure my final year is not only full of hard work, but with a little bit of….entertainment.

Anyways, those buffoons called officials had me running up and down just so that I'd be able to start out registration. I obviously wasn't able to finish, I'll have to go back tomorrow…*sigh*…but at least I got my accommodation clearance done. I got the room-mate I wanted, just not the room I wanted. Let's just hope it's a good room. I'm not sure I'm ready to go through the wahala of cell phone reception again…

And then the traffic going back to Lagos…Good Lord! Apparently, there was an accident at Ibafo. A bus and a jeep caught fire, and since those idiot tankers that are parked on the express joined the barbecue…the traffic was maddening!!! When they ask those tanker guys not to park there, they'll be going on strike & holding Lagos to ransome…buffoons..

But wait a minute…this is supposed to be The Morning's Musings abi??? Why am I talking about yesterday??? Ah well…it's my blog. I can write whatever I want. *SticksTongueOut*

Well, I'm off…gotta grap the day by the balls…

Laterz!

Blogaway Crash!

I'm in tears...

My blog application on my phone crashed, & I had to re-install it. So now I've lost all the drafts that were on it. So many unfinished pieces. Memories that I'd put down...saving for later. All gone...

Ah well. I guess it's time to start writing new stuff...making new memories...

Speaking of memories, a friend of mine that's on Twitter, just reminded me of my days in secondary school, when my class mates used to call me "The Baboon". Lmao!!! They even had a soundtrack for me. It was the "Upswing" ringtone on the Nokia3510i. It's so funny now, the way i used to get so riled up about it. I'd get all ticked off, & be vexing & shit. But now, I wonder what the big deal was. I was honestly such a dumb ass kid. In as much as I feel that my mind was wired somewhat differently from the rest of the pack, at the base of it, I couldn't escape the immaturity that came as a bundle pack with puberty. And in some funny way, I think I'm still stuck with that predicament. I have an old soul, that's still young at heart. So even though people look at me & think I'm somewhat intelligent & all that, there are times when the teenager that never really got a chance to live comes out in me. So yes, I know I can be immature. It can be a very annoying... even for me.

I think....I think about things way too much. I just let shit weigh me down. Well...Le Beau thinks so, & I'm inclined to agree with him. It's probably why I have so many mood swings...

He thinks I need people to lighten my load...He may be right. One reason I love my friends so much, is that they help to keep me from thinking about stuff. So when I'm with them, the darkness of sadness doesn't creep into my heart so much... but then, not so many of them actually know me like that. Some do, but they're not so many. & for a person to be able to think like you,& think of somethings for you, or keep you from thinking about stuff, they have to be able to relate with the way your mind works. That's one reason I value the time I get to spend with Le Beau & Oyé bo...because the two of them understand me. They understand me so well that it freaks me out sometimes. But anyways....

So I'm just sitting here in the dark...there's a power problem in Magodo...PHCN keeps "flashing" us with light...lol. Need to get the gen on. Stuff to be done.

Catch you later Blogsville!

Thoughts from a Maverick’s Perspective

Alone with my thoughts, I try to think but it's like my brain has gone silent.

The only thing I remember in these days past is asking me where the time went.

Time spent. Never to be regained, and I mourn 'cos I obviously haven't used it wisely.

And these days when I look around, unfortunately, I see.

I see my surrounding, my environs, my nation.

My current predicament, or in simpler terms, my current situation.

My dreams and the things I fear. Things I hate & all that I hold dear.

I wish I could look into the future, but all I do is see my past years.

In truth, it's not like they're so many, I'm only twenty uhhmm…

And from the point of view of those ahead, the battle isn't even nearly done.

*sigh*…. I wonder to myself, when will restoration finally come???

But I digress. The stress of being… just simply being, shouldn't be that much, or so it would seem.

So I see that which I need to see, even though I wish I couldn't see it.

Ignorance is bliss. This is a fact. If you never knew it then how can you miss it?

But to speak the truth, I'm glad that my eyes were opened. My brain was lit up like a light bulb getting a surge of electricity.

My mind was opened up like a rose blooming in the evening light.

To be a bit cliché, my thoughts emerged like a butterfly from its cocoon & summarily took flight.

So in hind sight, learning is the best thing that ever happened, and it happened for a purpose.

I think of the future, but all I see is the past. I ask myself, for God's sake, how long will this last?

So I run towards the future, I embrace this life unseen.

It's time to be something else. I'm tired of the way I have been.

The disarray of my way is in no way the way which I thought I wanted it yesterday.

So I'll go with this plan that's not a plan. I'll walk in it from day to day.

I'm ready to learn, to earn the right to exist.

I think, therefore I am. Therefore my right to exist is only as valid as the strength of my thoughs.

So I shall learn to think differently. To enter an existence different from the past whence I have lived.

To think differently is the plan… To think things through from my own perspective…

Thoughts from a Maverick's Perspective.

When I’m One With My Pen.

In past and even more present times, when left alone with my rhymes I've cursed my inability to sit down at the odd given times and put them down with utter versatility.

I would try to put pen to paper and write perhaps a caper, or whatever else I imagined I should be able to write…. Romance, a story about a slow dance, a slow chant…or a story about crime, or maybe even a story to make a grown man cry… I tried.

But at times like that like I once before told thee, my pen would forsake me. It'd run metaphorically from my mind screaming catch me if you can, kinda like the gingerbread man…

And I in my mind would give a chase long and hard…. Till those mental legs of my reasoning seemed like they'd previously been scarred and I was mentally outta breath from trying to catch that which should never have left. Sometimes I'd be like a Yoruba mother you see on the way to the market standing by the left screaming at her little boy like "PEN!!!! TI O BA BO SIBI BAI N'SIN!!!" And my pen would take a sarcastic bow…. and just leave.

The idea that I couldn't write was ill conceived so bereaved I would simply sit staring. Waiting & wondering when my pen would follow the map down the path which my mind wished to go…. I started to wonder if I was mentally challenged…or even worse, I started to question if in actuality I had any talent.

 

But at the oddest and strangest of times, like a little boy who ran away from home till he realized that he had totally no food & no money and that he was all alone and simply wanted his mommy, it would come back to me. And at times like these, I can write whatever the hell I want. I'd catch the truth by the toes and the nose, and put it all out so that everybody knows. I'd bare some random part of the deeps of my soul & sow together a coat of many statements for my reader to wear. I'd create fear in the minds of the feeble and fake, and as they quake in their boots cos a real person walked by, I'd smile, knowing the strength I have, because I write. I could even write the greatest love poem ever known, and dedicate to a woman I'll never know. Or maybe I'd think up some fictional prose. A story that may end up being too crazy to be told.

Whatever, it really don't matter. I could write whatever the heck I want right then. Cos totally bold is how I feel, when I'm one with my pen.

Basking in the Euphoria of Superfluity

This is what's happening to everyone these days. And I know it's arrogant to sit on the side lines and say that the rest of the world is focusing on shit that seems unimportant to you, so that isn't what I'm doing. When I say everyone, I include myself in the little cycle of stupidity which I see.

And honestly, I don't know how to explain what brought me to this conclusion. I saw a movie on Friday, "Remember Me". It had Robert Patterson and Pierce Brosnan in it. It really doesn't have a particular plot to it. At least I don't believe it does. Robert is a 21 year old dude who lost his older brother about 6 years back, and doesn't seem to have been able to get over it. His dad (Pierce Brosnan) is a rich business man who doesn't have time for his kids, and treats them like shit. This is supposedly the reason Robert's big bro killed himself. He meets some girl, falls in love…yada yada yada. I know this is a very shitty movie review, but this isn't why we're here. Anyways, the movie was really sad as it was going on, and then near the end of the movie, things start to get better. The dude's girlfriend comes back to him, his dad starts to be a better father….and then Robert's character is killed in the 9/11 attacks. I was so devastated…

Anyways, watching that movie made me realize, that what everyone imagines is the most important thing, really isn't. We go from here to there, helter skelter, wrapped up in our own little ball of madness, making a mountain hill of something that could be a mole hill if we only sat back to analyze it properly.

I'm not sure I have a lot of wise words or philosophical statements to put down on this one, all I can do is say things as they are, or at least, from where I'm standing. And from where I'm standing, the problem is that what we chase about, and put on a pedestal of ultra importance, will continue to haunt us. Until a point where it's all consuming and we actually can't see that the simple flame we stuck our finger into has become a roaring fire that burns away at everything around us which we should consider to be important. And the thing is, the things that we are supposed to consider to be important, we side-line. Like forgetting that family is more important than some job. Like remembering that love, should supersede all. Like understanding that it's not all about popping bottles in clubs and acting the fool.

Life, life is a bit more important than all that.

An Empty Update

Yes. This is exactly what the title says.

I have, totally nothing to write about. Okay, that's not true. There's stuff I wanna write about, but unfortunately for me, I'm in that position where the bridge between my mind and my pen has been burned. I need to figure out a way to rebuild it.

So, nothing really big has been going on…honestly. My holidays are just about over. Safe to say, nothing, and I mean nothing at all went the way I'd planned it out. Some things went horribly, I'm trying to believe that some things went well, but for the love of my life, I can't seem to remember what those things are. But then, I'm supposed to thank God either way ain't it??? And in all honesty, I'm actually grateful to God. A lot of things could have gone belly up this holiday. Quite a number of things did actually. Dolapo spent more time getting fixed and consuming money that I didn't have, than being my trusty steed from point to point (sounds corny, I know).

Anyways, so the holiday is just about over. Another year of grueling and suffering, sleepless nights, horrible food, annoying rules….*sigh* …but on the bright side, it's only one more year! This is the last lap…the final match! …and all that stuff. I just sha hope it all goes well.

Anyway, on with my rambling. This week was a very….uneventful one. I seem to be having more and more of those recently. I saw this movie yesterday, "Remember Me" with Robert Patterson & Pierce Brosnan. Amazingly, after seeing that movie, I must say that Robert is actually quite a very good actor. It was such a sad movie. The end was so…. I actually almost cried (seriously…I do have feelings too). Anyways, besides the very sad and heartbreaking ending, the movie made me miss being in a relationship…like really… but well…que sera sera…

I've learned quite a bit this holiday though…I've learned that persistence can be quite effective. I've learned that some people that I thought were quite strong actually weren't. I've learned that I'm much more human than I once believed, and I'm quite prone to some of the many blunders that I often chastise my fellow fellas for… I've learned about priorities…. I've learned that some things, and some people, just have to be left alone, for anything good to happen… I also learned that drinking close to half a bottle of Smirnoff Blue which has 50% alcohol volume in the space of 2 hours, is rather bad for you, and will leave you with a very horrible two day hangover… I leaned that declaring a girl to be attractive, whilst under the influence of aforementioned vodka, is also quite a bad idea. Because when the hangover finally clears…well…let's just say, so also will her beauty.

There's actually stuff I'd like to talk about…but I think I'll save it for a new blog/ story plan me & some friends are working on…I'm tired of rambling.

I'm going to sleep.

Will You Ever Get It?

Words which you can never understand their effect. You say what you want without an ounce of care. The hairs on your back are never moved by the callousness of your lips.

But you just don't see it.

Everything is right from your point of view. Even when you're wrong, telling you that you are wrong would be the the greatest way I could go wrong. But you want a relationship with him?

Now you want to reap the fruit of a seed you never took the time to sow. But it's not there for you to pluck. The idea that you could have gone wrong terrifies you. You can't bear the thought. So you set up an aggressive defense. It's everyone against you. You are the besieged one who did nothin wrong. I am obviously at fault.

The irony of it is, he's never claimed to be without fault. A dysfunctional child of parents who were never in conjunction, but he took the unction on himself & attempted to do something sensible. As patchy & incorrect as his methods may have been. But you've never attempted to see that. All you see is what you want. Your ideas of what should be ideal have blinded you from what the reality is, & so you can't even see that despite your early inability to do the right thing, he has survived, & attempts to make something of himself.

Will you ever get it?

Location : Bahiru Shittu, Lagos,
Posted via Blogaway

The Morning's Musings.

My words are mine alone for me to speak, or to write. And for what's mine, i always fight. I see the truth & say it whenever I can. Whenever the fear in my heart can be pushed away by a sense of what should be and what should not. By a refusal to accept the bullshit that's usually fed to us on a golden spoon. Because I've come to see that that golden spoon, like an Olympic gold medal, is actually 95% silver, which is 95% bollocks, 95% lies, and 95%,  might as well be the whole thing. And the slow sin which we commit by letting the shit slide be as we on our idly lie is unacceptable to me.

I said I wasn't gonna write about this, but I really can't look around anymore. We as a nation are gonna be 50. A professor of mine described this county as a man going on 50, a man who had managed to move out of his parents' house, & away from their rule, & has become "independent", but still wets his bed.

There is something structurally wrong.

There is something structurally wrong with us commiting  84 billion naira (yes, billion...with a B) to the elections nect january, yet PHCN staff are going on strike & plunging the nation into a deeper state of darkness, because their been owed hundreds of billions in salary arrears. I mean, really? N84B? On a fricking election? What the bloody hell for? As if we don't already know this election is gonna be rigged. I mean, if Babangida can be allowed to even run for presidency, isn't that indicative enough of what we should expect?

There's something structurally wrong with spending 1 billion naira on independence day celebrations. Frankly, we as a nation have totally nothing to celebrate about. Yes, I said it. At 50 years old, we're still a 3rd world country (please don't gimme that developing country bullshit) even though we have every single resource necessary to be a super-power nation.

Kai...I said I wasn't gonna rant  about this nation...but the pen wants what it wants. But I'll stop here for now. Speaking of the pen...I have a bit to tell you about him...

Okay, bath time!

I'll be back in blogsville a bit later..

Location : Bahiru Shittu, Lagos,
Posted via Blogaway

Insomniac Ramblings

I'm just rambling right now… sleep decided she was gonna be late, but forgot to send the memo. So…don't pay me any mind…

 

Why I do the things I do, may never be understood.

I do not require your forgiveness. Because, for you to forgive, you would have to understand me first.

And that I cannot permit. To let you into the sanctums of my soul, to give you a glimpse at what I feel, would be my undoing.

Would be our undoing precisely. & I shall not be undone. I have gone too far now.

I have laid my hand on the plow now, I will not turn back.

And in your mind you may forge all possible kinds of attack.

You may console yourself, saying all the things that I lack.

My unwillingness to try, is fostered by my unwillingness to cry.

To see my soul blown to every corner of the globe, I will no longer condone.

So I will do what I must. I don't expect your forgiveness.

Maybe one day, you'll understand. Maybe. But I won't hold my breath.

I will accept the weight of my actions, until the final time of my death.

There is nothing more to say…

This is the end.

When You Get Back

Boredom sometimes begets poetry….lemme keep this one short.

 

When You Get Back

When you get back, the first thing I'm going to do is kiss you, to show you how I've missed you, and words cannot fully pass this message to you so I'll take them directly from my lips and imprint them on yours in the way I know you know that only I know how to; soft, slow and full of every inch of passion possible.

When you get back, you're going to lose your way with words. You'll tell me stories about all the places you got to see, all the people you got to meet and hang out with. You better have pictures to back up all these stories as well though…I'm a big fan of 3x5's…you know that.

When you get back, we'll share those simple pleasures that we both value so much. We'll go watch a movie at the cinemas, and throw popcorn at the people sitting in front of us. Or we'll cuddle in bed and watch a movie on my laptop…amongst other things we could do in bed…

When you get back, I'll make you taste that new dish I learned how to make while you were away. You'll tell me how it's wonderful, you love it, you're proud of me…while crossing your fingers behind your back. I'll catch you later that night throwing it away, & in the middle of apologetic laughter, you'll promise to teach me how to do it right the next day.

When you get back, I'll play those songs you love to listen to when you're with me, cos they make you feel a little bit closer, like the melody of the music can weld our souls together and keep them like that for the 4minutes & 12 seconds each track plays for…

When you get back, you'll laugh and tell me how much weight I've put on since you've been gone. But you know you like my frame so you'll just rub my belly and smile. I'll tell you how you put on some weight as well. We'll be shedding it together tomorrow…or we could start tonight… (smiles)

When you get back….I'm gonna kiss you. Cos you know how much I've really missed you…

The Morning’s Musings

I've heard a saying, that "time heals all"

Does it really? I have no idea. People go through their whole lives with deep buried and unresolved issues that don't ever get resolved. Carrying resentment or hatred deep within them, transferring the aggression to some poor, unsuspecting party who then goes on to become filled with the same pain…and the cycle continues. But that really isn't what I'm talking about right now.

A lot of mistakes have been made in the last month. Some of them by me, and some by other people. I don't think I'm at liberty to talk about it, but at least on my part, I acknowledge that I probably screwed up majorly. And I can honestly say that, so did the other person…

My sister and I had a fight last week, over my…conduct. She got on my nerves, I said stuff that either pissed her off or hurt her, long and short, we had a fight. We didn't say more than three or four words to each other for…days. But today, she walks into my room to ask a favor. It's not something that I can help with, so she leaves. Then she comes in again, and drops some Nutri –C on my bed. As possibly insignificant as it may seem, I recognize it for what it is; peace. It took some time, but she got over her anger, and decided to make peace.

So that's why I'm wondering, will time actually heal all wounds? Will it heal the wounds that we so inconsiderately inflict on people? I'm not innocent either. I've hurt someone, and realized what I've done. I just hope it's not too late to heal…I just hope time will really heal.

Maybe we should be a bit more considerate…try not to inflict pain in the first place…instead of giving "time" all this work…

Have a nice day y'all…

She Understands, Now That She's Older.

She sits and she cries. She thinks back and wonders to herself, why?
As I think about her, far away, but always nearby, I remember how I told her, that she would understand one day, when she was older. And even though I was the younger one, I never stopped telling this sister or singing this song. About how her self-centered nature would one day leave her forlorn.
I could never understand where it stemmed from. Maybe the death of her mother early when she was 8 years old caused her to only think of herself, so no-one would ever desert her again. Maybe she was simply just born a selfish little girl. But whatever the reason, Chinelo was definitely a grown selfish woman. Her thoughts surrounded majorly by herself. Her dreams, her ambitions, her comfort zones….her life. She did what worked for her, never caring much what people thought. Apparently, even caring more for friends than family. “A friend sticks closer than a brother”, so she was closer to her friends. Caring more about their welfare than people who’d been with her all her life.
She gave nothing but expected to be given. Forgetting that relationships are of the “quid pro quo” nature. A two way street which she turned into a one way highway, expecting things to come down to her without sending anything out.
And this was her great sin.
I tried talking to her. But as always, being her kid sister, I was never right. Everything I could ever say would cause a fight…No-one seemed to be able to get through to her. The special men in her life could never quite figure out what the rest of us were talking about, cos she was forever doting and caring for them. What they couldn’t see was that in her mind, “Chinelo and her man” was one person. So she wasn’t being doting towards them. She had simply widened her circumference of “self-centeredness” to include them. Thus, still only caring for her.
*sigh* I warned her. About how her self-centered nature would one day leave her forlorn. But she wouldn’t listen. But now, it finally caught up with her. A fifty six year old woman who cannot understand why her siblings have walked away from her. Stubborn past the age of forty, she went past the age of reasoning, left alone with everything that she sacrificed her relationship with us for. A friend loves at all times, but a brother is there for adversity. She realizes that having friends is simply not enough…
But we were tired. Tired of caring and worrying and going all out for a person that couldn’t see why she should do the same. So, like we learned from our mom, we washed our hands off her.
Always hoping I would be proven wrong, I always told her that she’d understand when she got older…She wouldn’t listen.
Now, she’s alone…

Please note: The names in this story are totally fictional. And if we know anyone that reminds us of “Chinelo”, I really hope they learn before it’s a bit too late… I just wanted to try my hands out at writing a different story. – The Panda.

Memories Race By

This is my very first ever attempt at writing a short story. Hope you like it.

Memories Race By

“Ladies and gentlemen, Runner Number 8! From Nigeria, Dagogo Jacob!!!

…I look up from my crouched position as I’m attempting to stretch out my tendons for a moment. Enough to look around for a bit, smile at the roaring crowd and wave. Although they’re rather far from me, I can see the faces of my personal supporters’ team that came all the way with me from Lagos to South Africa among the crowd. My mother, my girlfriend Tori, and my coach Big Balo. The sound of the crowd may be picking up the sounds they make and swallowing it without choking, but I feel like I can hear every word of encouragement that mama and Big Balo are screaming out to me. Mama shouting out that I can do it. Big Balo is shouting at me to make sure I stretch properly.

I remember the first day I went to the National Stadium to find someone to train me to run professionally. I was thirteen years old, and unruly as any new teenager could be. None of the coaches would work with me. It seemed like when they all saw me, they saw that unruly glint in my eye which can usually be easily recognized as rebellion. Mama and I walked around the stadium all day, looking for who would take me, but we just kept getting shaking heads, and doubtful looks. Stares that said how unwilling they were to invest in such an obviously volatile individual, without them ever having to utter a single word. Finally, we met Big Balo. He looked at me long and hard, scrutinizing my defiant glare. Finally, he simply looked up at mama and said “Oya madam bring am come track”.

“Runners! Take your positions!”

As I walk to my place, I can see Balo telling me about the importance of limbering up properly. How not to stretch a muscle so as not to lose the race before I’d even started. “A badly wound muscle can ensure that you not only lose the race, but that you may never race again.” I spend days at a time, simply learning how to stretch properly. It was very frustrating at that point, but now I methodically work out every kink in my body, from toe to shoulders. Making sure that my entire body is in consonance with my feet.”

“On your mark!!!”

I drop to a semi – pushup position. My feet settling firmly on the plates behind me from which I will propel myself immediately the gun goes off. I remember Balo flogging the back of my feet every time I’d position them wrongly. Forcing me to find a position which would offer complete comfort, without sacrificing major efficiency for that comfort. My head is nestled into my shoulder blades like a lioness preying on a pack of zebra. Tensed to move at an instance’s notice.

“Get set!!!”

My back arches like a cat that’s been harshly startled from a position of complete comfort. Poised to bolt at a moment’s notice. I see myself poised outside Balo’s window at the age of 14. Watching him have his fill of a young, very beautiful lady friend of his whom he picked up when we were passing through Sanusi Fafunwa one evening on the way back from his friends place. He called her his “Business Lady.” I remember standing outside the window watching him pound into her as she screamed like a well trained actress. At some point she looked up and saw me watching and gave me a small wink. I’d never run as fast before.
The gun goes off.

At that split moment before my hands leave the ground and I break into a sprint, I remember Balo’s call gun Toni, which he shot right over my head, again and again. In order to get me to stop being frightened of hearing the pistol go off, so I’d be able to run immediately it went off. I remember hearing him shout out “You hear the pistol, move you ode!!! Would you hear someone shooting at you and freeze for a moment??? You hear that pistol, run like someone’s shooting for your legs!!!”
I barely even recognize how harsh that sound is any more. Now it reminds me of a lover whispering in my ear to make me move faster.

I’m off the bases.

My feet are moving at a blinding, but very even pace. The cords in my muscles bunching up as I move along the track. I may not have the natural speed that my immediate opponent obviously has, but I most definitely have the power. As I run it’s almost like you could measure the kilo joules of energy my feet and calves are producing. While my ankles desperately try not to snap under the pressure I seem to be putting them under. But all the years of training can’t be for nothing. My ankles are fine.

We pass the 100 meter mark.

I remember Balo running with me. Teaching me how to breathe properly. My lungs expand as I gulp air needed to power my heart to make my whole body move. Every single part of my body needing the energy to move faster. Two years ago I finally beat him in a race. I guess that was when I’d finally learnt how to feed this machine with the air needed to keep it intensely and properly oiled.

I remember my mom bringing me to the Stadium on Saturday mornings, looking at me with pride and knowing that one day, her little boy would do well.
I’ve started to outdistance Runner Number 4 from Egypt. He may have had that natural fluidity that comes with God given speed, but the 200 meter run also requires a lot of energy as well to maintain speed right to this point, and I obviously have more energy than he does

By 150 meters, the race is mine.

I see my girlfriend smiling at me. She’s never been one to scream out encouragement at me. All she simply needs to do is to show her unshakeable belief in me by smiling. I’ve had to stay off her for a few weeks ‘cos of training. Tonight is going to be a winning celebration in more ways than one.
30 meters to go.

I suddenly remember my very first pair of training shoes. Balo made me lace them up really tight all the time. Hitting me if I didn’t tuck the laces into my shoes properly. “Shoes badly laced may cost you a race” he always screamed into my ear….
The lace which I forgot to tuck in pulls out, tripping me up as I tumble at full speed and slide across the rough synthetic track, only to stop 5 meters to the finish line, Runner Number 4 dashes by me to win the race.

Right now I’m sitting by the sidelines, watching the Egyptian wrap himself in the flag of his nation as he does the victory lap. Mama sits beside me, mumbling something that sounds like "better luck next time", while my girlfriend rubs my back in condolence and Balo is screaming at me “HOW THE HELL COULD YOU FORGET TO LACE YOUR SHOES PROPERLY!?!?!?!?!”

I shake my head…I remembered. It was simply too late when I did.

The Sum of My Fears

In the last couple of years, one of the reasons for which I’ve sunk into some horrible mood swing, has been fear. A fear which for some reason I could never explain…and whenever I’d try to put these fears to words, it just never worked…anyways, tonight, I read a blog by a chic called elmerhassan. She wrote about some of the fears she had…fantastic piece by the way. And after reading it…I decided to write about my fears. So here goes:

The summary of my fears, is that I will never be.

That my dreams and aspirations will never see the light of day, & making hay while there is a shining sun is something I will never find because the sun will never shine on my day, and these words with which I play will one day be used as ammo against me.

I fear that I may never grow up to be what my mother dreamed when she sacrificed a lot of her dreams by superseding my needs over hers and the scars that stand as proof of her hard work will never be wiped away.

What if I’m never able to make my dad proud? The look of disappointment never leaving his gaze for the rest of his days, and what if I turn out to be just like him? A patron saint of perfectionism and attention to detail, turning the love of my life from a devoted wife to an unhappy woman. Never thinking about my family’s feelings before I open my mouth to speak, alienating myself from everyone with a perfectionist attitude, all to simply end up as a torn page from a list of all the things which my children hope they never have to grow up to be like.

Speaking about my dad, the man is 67. And for some reason or the other, his family still depends heavily on him. I fear sometimes what would happen if he should just suddenly die, before we’re able to stand on our feet. Or that he may not live to see any of his children.

And about children, I’m not really afraid that I won’t have any, I simply fear that I may not be a good father. That I may hurt them in my efforts to raise them right. I fear that I may end up with dysfunctional kids who’ll have to go through counseling and some other shit just to re-write their psyche just ‘cos their old man couldn’t be a good father.

I fear that all my struggles in uni may all go to waste. Like after the sleepness nights, and the lack of a social life during the semester, I may still not graduate first class. And the worst part is that I fear that after all the shit I’ve put myself through, I may just graduate first class, but find myself unable to contribute anything worthwhile to my society.

I fear that my thoughts and words which I put on paper may never be appreciated. That I may never grow as a writer. That my words will someday stand as a testament of simply being a waste of time and efforts that could’ve been put to better use.

I fear that my heart may never heal. That I may never be able to glue the pieces of my broken soul together and once again love without fear of being hurt. I fear that I may never find the woman that is meant for me. Or even worse, that I may have found her, but let her go…never to get her back again because of my firm and maybe one day very stupid belief…

And if she’s not the one for me, I fear that no other woman will be able to make me feel the way she does. That no one will be able to make me smile the way she used to, or bite my neck and send sensations running through my spine the way she did. Or make me feel so good just by saying…Adeyemi.

I fear that I may lose myself on this road on which I find myself.

I fear that I may never make my peace with God. That one day I may go to meet him and find that there is nothing to stand in my defense.

I fear that I may one day become like everyone else. That all the talk about being different from the crowd may be just talk, and I may turn out to be like every other Nigerian who doesn’t know right from wrong, or knows the difference, but refuses to stand and fight for what he believes in.

The summary of my fears, is that I will never be.

Sadness begets needs...

Sadness seeps through my soul like heroin flowing through an addict’s blood stream.

And it would seem like my analogy is unseemly but really it seems like these days pain is what obtains…

Happiness comes only for a minute and in it or rather on its heels come the wings that take me gliding right above the streams of melancholia…threatening to drop me right in.

Would I rather swim within this deep and very thick body of pain?? Would it better?
I gain some altitude sometimes only to find myself right back where I was, no matter how long the time.

The lines of words which I write seem to be my only respite from this shocking plight.

What is its cause? I seem to remember a time when it was all good. The occasional mood swing was easily understood and swiftly overtaken by the love I felt. I smelt like Bvlgari BLV but the TLC which I had made it seem like so much more…

This has been torn away and now…I simply seek to be reborn. To live my life without regrets where doing as I wish is not a threat to another’s existence and the persistence of the bullshit would cease and I would be able to be at ease & maybe even find closure with this state I’m in….

The truth lies within they say so I desperately search my soul. My goal is to gain some understanding. I’m demanding a resolution from myself. If I could I would reach up onto a philosophical shelf and pick it up, shake it but not stir. Throw in a lemon and drink till every last drop was down my throat, & my thirst for an understanding of me quenched.

Yes. I’m beginning to think this is part of the problem, my lack of understanding…me.

I need to live for myself for a bit. Not to sit and say “fuck the world” [please pardon my French] but to establish and fully understand my place in it.

I need to kiss a woman and again taste the plush sexiness that resides between the warmth of her lips, instead of remembering the taste of…….sugar…..*sigh*

I need to once again listen to City Love & Not Like Crazy, and remember what it felt to love those songs for the pleasure they brought me….& hope that maybe one day, they’ll hold that same extraordinary attachment once again…

I need to make my peace with my maker, no matter how long it may take. For God’s sake! I think I need him more than he does me…

I need to scream at the top of my lungs, all of those songs I like to sing in private. Get my neighbors all totally irate.

I need to get my fat arse back into some form of fitness… (lol)…

I need….I need…

Here’s the summary: I need to understand again the freedom of living life to the fullest…whether I do it alone, this is as yet unknown.

Memories of Childhood and Teenage Years Lost: Sins of the Parents

Vodka by my side, resentment in my mind…

In the last few years, my old man has been going on about decay in the standards which he and my mum used to have in the house. Whenever my sister or I do something that he disapproves of, his favorite statement is: "can you do that if your mom was around??" among other statements. Years back, he would complain that there was no relationship between the two of us, and he'd say to me: "if someone from the streets was to ask you, what sort of relationship you have with me, what would you say??"

See, those kinds of questions always made me think… My father was at one point, a big bank MD and when I was a kid. He used to leave the house at 6AM, and come home sometime around 10PM. At the weekends, he'd be off for some church meeting or the other. The only times I really ever saw him, was either when my mom would force him to spend time with me, or when he'd swoop down to instill corporal punishment for some crazy acts of folly which I'd carried out…. And by golly, did he know how to beat… At some point, I was always afraid to just be around him. I never wanted to be in the same room with him. I always went to my mom for whatever it was that I wanted…SMH…if I ever wanted something that I had to get from him, I'd write a note and place it in the bathroom where he'd see it in the morning before he had a bath or something. This fear & feeling transferred into my latter years…I still feel uncomfortable when I'm around him. The fact that I hate asking him for things has propelled me into trying my best to find my own way. To get things for myself….

Most sons want to make their fathers proud of them. I want to succeed for a few reasons. 1 of them being that I want to be able to take care of my mother in her old age, 2^nd being that I want to be able to look my father in the face & know that despite his disbelief & lack of moral support for anything that I've put my hand to, & his constant putting me down, I'd have been able to make something outta my life…

Someone reading this blog may just think to themselves that I'm being unreasonable & that he can't be this bad…really??? Lemme give you an example. In my 2^nd semester of my 2^nd year in Redeemers Uni, I hit 7 A's & 1 B…. A GP of 4.91… everyone was so happy for me, my sisters were screaming, blab la blah… what did my father say?? "Why are you getting B's???"

That's what he said…I shall say no more.

The point of this blog isn't to paint my old man out to be a wicked person. In his defense he has a lot of qualities which I actually admire. The point of this blog is this; he constantly complains about a lack in standard, and the fact that the both of us do not actually have a good father-son relationship going on. My question [which I'm yet to ask him] is always, "who was supposed to establish the relationship??? Me or you???"

At the time of my childhood when he should have established the relationship which would have become the foundation for a strong one now, he was either too busy with work, or too busy with church. And I'm making sure that I emphasize the point about him always being in church, because there's a common statement that I've heard all my life; "Na pastor pikin dey spoil pass". Now, I've come to understand the reason why this is so. This is so because, fathers & mothers who are so deeply involved in church activities and in "serving God", sometimes sacrifice things that are quite important, such as raising their children properly. I don't know whether they imagine that the "anointing" that supposedly flows over their heads will run down their beards and teach their children how to behave.

I failed my way through secondary school, because I never studied. & in as much as I could say that it was obviously my fault, I've come to realize that part of that blame lies solely at the feet of my parents. They both simply assumed that, because nobody needed to prod & push them to study, that I would be the same way. That I'd easily overcome the distractions around me, and put my head in my books… I had to punish and beat myself into cultivating the habit of working in uni.

My point for telling you all this, is that I hope that when we have our turns at being parents, we don't screw it up. I hope we don't neglect our children to pursue something else which we consider more interesting, & then wake up one day & realize that they're all grown up and want nothing to do with us. I hope we never have to put ourselves through such nonsense…

I'm sick off this…I think I'll go back to this Vodka…

Panda out…

The Morning's Musings--- It's Been A While

So it's 5AM, & I'm blogging. I ask myself what precisely I have to write about….Nothing that I can actually place my mind on. The last few days since my last post have been totally different from everything that I'm used to. I'm not so sure that I can start talking about them all.

I'm scratching my head while my old man is outside my door, doing…..whatever that man does when he wakes up at this hour of the morning. Sometimes that man amuses me with the things he does. Like the way he dresses sometimes. You'd think he was still trapped somewhere in the 1970's... Sometimes, he annoys me intensely. & really, when I say intensely, do not be fooled into underestimating the gravity in which I actually use that word. Sometimes he upsets me intensely in his ways. The things he does and says. He talks like he doesn't realize the effects of words. For a man that's been a pastor for so long, & now an "elder" in the church, you'd think he would be more careful the way he treats his family….ah well….

I've often said that the man's biggest problem was that he didn't have his first child till he was 40+…I mean, if the whole thing about you been a fool at 40 stands true, then how do you become malleable like you're supposed to be when there are kids in the equation??? Mehn….enough tears have been shed over spilled milk.

But you know, sometimes, he inspires me. I look at how hard he works, how much attention to detail he puts in over things that ordinarily shouldn't matter. How he can create a state of almost perfection in his circumference of specialty & I say to myself, this is how I need to be. I think I've learned a lot from him. I've learned that hard work does pay. I've learned that there is dignity in labour. That, took me quite a while to learn I'll honestly say…

I wish that, in inheriting character from him as I ripen with age, that I could take the good things that I admire about him, & leave all the things that annoy me…. Well, I guess we'll just have to wait & see now won't we. Someone told me that it's something I'm going to have to really pray about. Well, it's actually that important to me…. I'll do what I can…

Anyways, so I'm awake…maybe I should go back to bed…sleep showed up easier before 12AM thanks to a dose of vodka & mango juice. Albeit it sounds like a weird combo, truth is that it actually worked for me quite amazingly. I never expected that it'd taste so nice… so I went to sleep & missed a call from….let's call her A for now k??? I missed a call from A… what's the story behind me & A??? hmmm….I wonder if I'll ever get to actually tell you…

Okay, so now that I have a bit of respite from the need to write, I'll try to go back to sleep…maybe I'll watch the trailer for Thor first…it had better be a good movie. The trailer looks fantastic…

I'm sure I'll have itchy fingers again sometime soon….till then, live free.

Speaking in Abstract.

.....

I've been...blog reading. I came across stuff that shocked, and....well, let's not get into how I felt by what I read.

All my life, I've tried to do the right thing, regarding my relationship with women. Somehow or the other, I wasnt able to get it right this time. I...won't start to talk specifically now. It seems to me like my speaking in abstract terms suits me just fine, and the people who read this blog and are meant to understand, will understand.

I've been called a lot of things. A lot of things have been said about me. I will not try to defend myself.

Someone told me, once, that in a relationship which is being dissolved, the person who wields power isnt actually the one who makes like everything is ok. The one who wields power is the one who is supposedly not handling things well.

It hurts, when people who are supposed to know better, say things about you that are just....crazy. on friday, two people who i thought would know better, told me not to go on a rebound spree...me. Adeyemi? I was so pissed. Now, I read stuff about my actions in this blog and...I don't even know what to say....

Now, I've decided. I cannot let this power over my life linger.

I loved... I loved with all my heart, and soul, and mind. I did everything to keep that love. That love....left. It cannot be brought back. And for my own safety and peace of mind, I've decided to let it go. I said I would always be there....this is true. I was told that...it wouldn't happen again...6 months after the last time...but it did...so what are we saying?

I'm saying that, some situations are beyond my control. I'm saying, that I cannot continue to do this. Let it be said that Adeyemi Adebayo Babajide Gabriel Ishola Fatona is a soulless bastard who was just lying through his teeth. Let that be said. I...will not do this anymore.

This Panda is done.

Ps. Congratulations. You've succesfully chased me away.

Location : Kosofe, Lagos,

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Location : Kosofe, Lagos,

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The High Horse Called Judgement.

A few years ago, in one of the many wisdom enriching conversations I've had with a particular friend of mine, he told me that he'd finally understood why his old man had cheated on his mom. At that point in time, I thought he was out of his fricking mind. I mean, the idea of cheating on a partner just seemed so absurd to me. I thought I was in a position where I could judge. I had this self righteousness thing going on, where I was always saying that i could never cheat and all that...

A few years down the line, and two or three girlfriends later, (not like I consider any of my exes as just numbers, in fact, they've each had a special place in my life, & I still mourn the loss of Tutu...) any ways, I've still never cheated on a girlfriend, & I still maintain that it's wrong. But I've come to realize that, it's not easy. Nothing is ever as simple as we make it out to be.

Someone told me once, that when she was much younger, in secondary school and stuff, that she never had any qualms about doing the right thing. Like, it was never even an argument. It was always just a natural instinct. I've seen that person in a dilema. Where she's had to be begged to do the right thing.

*sigh*

Point in case, I've realized that we can never look on our selves as being better than anyone. For any reason whatsoever. I saw a younger friend of mine doing something that was totally unfair to a female friend of mine. And I thought to myself, "that is so fricking selfish. This boy has disappointed me". But this weekend, I found myself in that same position with another girl. And, it took a lot of talking to myself, & a lot of talking to other people who would possibly have an influence on the decisions I make, to put my head in the right place so that I wouldn't let my body make decisions for me, and ruin a friendship that has taken quite a long while to craft properly. And I'm not saying that what I'm doing right now is the right thing, but at least I've made the effort to be honest to this girl, and lay out all the cards. But! I've also realized, that in the case of this my young friend, that it was simply easier for him to just think about himself. It was simply easier.

I wrote in one of my previous blogs, that the fact that I see that there is something fundamentally wrong in the way we human beings do our things, and the things we accept as normal practice, the fact that I see this puts me on a higher echelon than the average human being. I still think that is the truth. & I still believe that, even though I can see it, my inability to figure it out makes me human. That, I've come to see more clearly.

We're all human beings. Never judge people, 'cos you never know what you would do if you were thrown in that situation. Never say, "O! I could never do that!" Or "What is (s)he thinking?! That's just so wrong!!" Or anything of the sort. 'Cos you never really know if it can happen to you.

I guess, as for me, I'm gonna keep trying to maintain myself. I'm gonna keep trying to stay on that upper echelon. But now, I can see the bottom. I can see how easy it would be to fall. So I'll ba a bit more careful.

No one said that because you're on an upper echelon, you have to stay on a high horse....abi?

Location : Kosofe, Lagos,

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Off The Top.

The effects of the decisions we make are usually entirely out of our hands. A lot of the times, we may be able to predict what those effects are, but we just won't be able to decide how the exact flow of events will turn out.

I lost something very important to me. But now, I've refused to take it back. Not because I don't want to, but because I can see the potential effects of what could happen. Yes, I know I'm speaking abstractly.

What do I do?

Location : Kosofe, Lagos,

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Thoughts From A Maverick's Perspective

My world really revolves around the beauty of disarray.

Often called madness, I prefer to term it "organized chaos".

I live day to day trying to make sense of it all, why everything turns out the way it often does has always been a marvel to me.

But is it supposed to make sense?

Are we supposed to understand?

Maybe the fact that I can see this supposed shift in the balance of how everyone thinks things are supposed to be, puts me on a higher echelon in my mind, then I guess the fact that I can't seem to make sense of it is what keeps me human, and at times, sane.

I've been called arrogant by a few, full of shit by someone else (I love you too Oyé).

I prefer to point out that I see myself the way I would like to, and more to the point,the way I am. Not how the rest of society would have me percieve myself.

I'm a maverick, a non conformist. Call it what you will.

It's all a matter of perspective.

Why am I writing when I should be studying?

I've begun to believe that a portion of my soul resides at the tips of my fingers,

And the only way that portion finds release is when I write.

The way of the flying pen is the path I've chosen to follow.

Location : Ogun,

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Memories of Childhood and Teenage Years Lost: The Free Spirit

Grain by grain, my memories trickle like sand onto the page.

I like to believe that I had quite an interesting childhood. I mean, it wasn't like the kid rockstar life that every little foetus growing in its mother's womb dreams about having, but it had its perks. I grew up with a mother that loved me as much as life itself, and was never afraid to show it.

Sometimes, when I talk to my mother, she tells me how I put many a gray hair in her head. It always cracks me up... but in her defense, I'm quite sure I was quite the handful.

When I think about it, I could say I was a normal sort of child, if children can ever be called normal. I did the sort of crazy stuff children were prone to do.

I remember when my family still used to live in VI. There were times my folks would go out, and when they were going, they'd tell the house help not to let me leave the house... you know how parents are... it wasn't like they were trying to lock me up or anything... I think at that point, being the combustible little rat I was, they were just afraid I'd hurt myself if I was left to run around...

Anyways, so they'd leave instructions not to let me out of the house, but I'd always find a way to sneak out and go play Sega games at Charles Grant's place. I remember the day I found out I could successfully climb down the balcony without hurting myself. It was like I'd found out that I was Spiderman or something. It became something I did all the time...

In retrospect now, I think that, even at such a young age (no, I don't remember how old I was) I had a spirit that just refused to be caged. Not like I didn't like chilling at home or anything, it was just the idea that I couldn't leave the house that stirred up some form of rebellion in me I guess.

One particular day, I was climbing down (or was it back up??) the balcony, when my mom came back, in time to see me fall...

What a scream...

Why am I suddenly remembering all these things??? I don't know... maybe I just need to put down these events in my head...

Memories of my childhood, and the teenage years lost...

Location : E 1, Loburo,

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Hypocritical Christianity: Guilty???

It's funny how, people can totally forget about God, and just live life how they want to. But then, when trouble, or a battle shows up, they remember Him.

I'm not excluded from this gang of individuals. For the last two months, I've been fighting with God. I've been upset with him for taking something so precious away from me. Kinda like the way a kid gets vexed at his mom for taking away his favourite toy, and he screams out how much he hates her (well...na only oyinbo pikin dey get that kind liver) and all that stuff. But when wahala lands, the child runs back to hide behind her skirt.

That's kinda the way I've been. Upset with God, ranting and raving and all that stuff, but now, I started my exams on Tuesday and guess who I ran right back to? Yep, you got it!!

But does this make me hypocritical? I mean, does it mean I don't have the right to be right there with the people who've been more consistent with Him? I mean, I know the Bible says we shouldn't continue in sin, with the thought that Grace will abound, but that grace is there isn't it?

I don't know. I was at this worship thing that we usually do when exams are going on, and I thought to myself, I haven't been to morning devotion this entire semester, and have only been to church three times this semester. Does it make me a hypocrite? Am I mocking God and the grace He chooses to grant my life?

I don't know...I hope I find the answer I'm looking for sooner than later... maybe it's just guilty conscience that's worrying me...

Location : Ogun,

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Memories of Childhood and Teenage Years Lost.

Like sand, my memories trickle grain by grain onto this page.

I've aged in the last decade. My teenage years stolen away by self assesment, and a realization that established my difference from the common man.

And I say it without an ounce of pride. Teenhood was lost upon one such as I. My time spent more with those well beyond my years than amongst my peers, I quickly realized the superfluity in which those in my age bracket tended to bask in was just that. Superfluous I'm the grand scheme of things. Unfortunately, that didn't really mean that I knew what the grand scheme was. This premature maturity ended up making me something of a misfit. For I couldn't blend in with so many of those that were older, maybe because at the most inconvenient times, the truth of my age would come to light. When statements like, "my dad's home", or some such thing as only one within the ages of thirteen and nineteen could ever be worried about. But on the other hand, the majority of those who were my age were generally not at a point where I felt I could relate with them just yet.

Sometimes it felt quite ridiculous to me. Imagime a kid in JSS 2 being asked what year in university he was in??? I think that in the last fifteen years of my life, that just has to be one of the most ridiculous things that's ever happened to me.

I look back, and I try to believe that I avoided some of the mistakes I saw my mentors make. I learnt from people like Le Beau, who taught me that questioning yourself in order to become a stronger person was a necessity in life. Else, stagnation, and maybe even decay would eventually set in.

I learnt from Alucard, how to enjoy myself. With him I actually found some joy in being a teenager, for there's a young lad in that man that just will not die. And that, I tell you, is something I'm quite glad for.

I learnt from Balogun, my Master Yoda, about how to tap into myself. I don't know how else to put the things that he taught me. I mean, he was like, and still is, that elder brother that God decided I didn't really need to have. And you learn a lot from an elder bro. Let's face it. I may have been mentally beyond my years,  but that didn't mean I got spared from the stress of going through puberty. *smiling * This big brother of mine was always there to help out. He always had my back at all times. He passed on all the knowledge a lil bro needed to be given.

Later on in teenage hood, I started to hang out with Obanya. The things I learnt from that friend, were crazy. I learnt that fear, even though a requisite in order to maintain humanity, was something that could ne overcome. And I think that's one of the best things I've ever come to see.

The memories are actually quite a lot... I think I'll make this a bit of a series... so stay with me, and read these tales of mine... Tales of childhood and teenage years lost.

Location : E 1, Loburo,

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