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Personals

Post Baffday Sermon

 

 

A few minutes into my birthday, I started to feel hungry.

 

I remembered buying a scotched egg earlier in the day, so I scrambled around my room till I found it. As soon as I did, I popped it into the microwave and set the timer to one minute.

 

And then, I continued to watch the cartoon I was.

 

A few seconds later, I was startled from my seat by a mini explosion from the microwave. For a few moments I was confused – and then, I realized what happened.

 

A few months ago, I bought an eggroll from a spot in my neighborhood. I got home and heated it with the microwave and settled down to eat it. I took a bite – and the egg exploded in my mouth. I shit you not.

 

For days, I walked around with raw lips. I couldn’t close my mouth completely; I couldn’t eat.

 

But I could drink. And I drank. A lot.

 

Of Monster; that is.

 

Anyways, I opened the microwave and the egg was splattered across the four corners of it. I gently closed it once again and sat at my computer once more.

 

I tell that story to say this; I’m thankful.

 

I look back and think how far I’ve come. Been through my shares of downs; nights I didn’t want to wake in the morning. The mountains are more than the valleys these days – and I’m really thankful. Really.

 

I’m just a guy from around the way – yet the way you people treat me, I start to think I’m some kind of a big deal.  Don’t get it twisted; I see these things. I try not to forget who I am; I try not to let it get to my head.

 

‘See the same sword the knight you/’s the same one they gon’ goodnight you with’.

Jay Z said that.

 

Look, I’m nowhere near where I want to be. But I’m nowhere near where I was, and it’s because I; among other things, have some of the best people in the world rooting for me.

 

How can I miss with that?

 

Thank you for your kind words. Thank you for your support and love. Thank you for the inspiration. Thank you for celebrating me and with me for years and years.

 

I’m thankful.

 

And oh, in case you missed the morale of the ‘Tale of the Scotched Egg’, this is it: imagine the egg had exploded in my belly. On my birthday morning.

 

 

No be my village pipo go get the credit?

 

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For The Stranger In Red

 

If you’re the pretty lady who was sitting in The Palms food court on Saturday, wearing a bright red sweater over Ankara print pants, reading Buchi Emecheta’s Double Yoke, who didn’t mind a little girl coming over, taking you out of your fun and asking if you were married just because she wanted to ask if you would marry her father who was ‘sad all the time’…

 

I apologize.

 

And I want to thank you for being kind and understanding to a child who, in the most innocent and naïve of ways, thinks the way to fix loneliness is to find someone to be with. She doesn’t understand that two people can physically stand together – and yet be so far apart a whole equator can fit in the space between them. She doesn’t understand loneliness. Not yet.

 

But you do, don’t you?

 

I believe you do. That’s why you were so kind and patient and wondering what happened to her mother. Maybe one day, if the fates allow it, we will sit again, you and I, talk about the things that isolate people like us despite being in the crowded center of a crowded state in a crowded country.

 

Maybe one day. For now tho…

 

Thank you for understanding.


Breaking Spaghetti or Not.

 

I was thinking yesterday (yes; I think ONLY once a week, you should try it!) about how I usually learn my biggest life lessons through happenstance.

This particular story happened while I was in the university – part three to be exact. I had this housemate who was brainy – so brainy; he taught ALL the females in his department. I did think it was strange his brain only had an affinity for teaching females – but what do I know?
Anyways, the afternoon this thing I’m about to tell you about happened, I was home, hungry and, looking through the house, I saw I had stew. Spaghetti’s easy to cook, so I decided.
I was going to eat spaghetti.
I started to cook it how mum taught me – steam water, add salt, boil, and then add the spaghetti. I didn’t realize I had an audience.
Soon enough, the water began to boil and I added the spaghetti – again, like mum taught me – lengthwise and pushing them in as they softened. At this point, my watching audience who had been wondering what I was doing, jumped out of cover and started screaming, “Aha! See this bush man!!! How can you be cooking spag without breaking it?!!”
I stopped and watched his antics for a moment. And then, when he quieted down I asked him; “Did it occur to you that if it was supposed to be broken, the makers would have broken it for you?”
Clearly it hadn’t. He considered that while I played like Jesus, ignored him and puttered away at my cooking. After almost ten minutes, ten minutes during which I had forgotten he was beside me, he suddenly said, “Sha, last last you be ajebo.”
I had nothing to say to that – because I was having an epiphany.
See, I had always thought the dude was smarter than me. Somehow, he used to make me feel like I was wasting my time being in school – because I believed if I can’t be the best there’s no use doing it. But in that moment?
I realized – there’s a world of difference between being school-brilliant and being generally intelligent. I realized I had no reason to feel small around him – or anyone else for that matter. Maybe I wasn’t as brilliant as him; I wasn’t doing too bad for my age. And I knew if I faced my studies squarely, I’d be just as – if not more so. I just didn’t like school.
And while there’s nothing wrong with having school-brilliant and general intelligence, if I had to choose one –
You guessed it. Enjoy the long weekend.


Go Slow.

 

 

These days, few things make me happier than being stuck in traffic with a dead phone.
 
I actually have to look up, look around and become aware of the world around me.
 
Like – where the fuck am I rushing to? There’s so much of life I’m missing because I’m obsessed with looking down.
 
Look around you every now and then. Stick your head out of the car window and try to breath fresh air (I no send you inhale smoke and carbon mo-poison o! If you know, you know. If you don’t – ).
 
And for fuck’s sake –
 
Slow the fuck down.
 
Thank God for go-slow.

Freebies: Dumb Things In Infinity War.

 

 

avengers

 

Some things that made no sense to me in Avengers Infinity War:

 

If you hate spoilers, do not proceed beyond this point. You have been warned.

 

  1. How did Heimdall, who can see all nine realms, not see Thanos coming?
  2. What happened to Korg, Valkyrie and Miek?
  3. Why did Heimdall choose to save Banner?
  4. How did he know Dr. Strange’s address?
  5. Why was Black Widow/Steve surprised to see Banner? He called them, no?
  6. Why did Thor need a new hammer? Did Thanos’ punches make him forget what Odin said in Ragnarok?
  7. Really, who send Thanos?
  8. Why did Thor need a new eye?
  9. Again, what the fuck was Red Skull doing in Infinity War?!
  10. Strange could have ended that fight in over a million ways. A simple one; why didn’t he do to Thanos what he did to Dormamu?

 

Please, if you have a better explanation that ‘plot armour’, do share. And if you have some other things that also made little/no sense to you, please share too.

PPS: If DC committed a third of the atrocities this movie is guilty of, na Zack Snyder and im family alone go watch am. Bias much?

 


Dance To The Rhythm of Your Own Beat.

 

A friend of mine is fond of making fun of sapiosexual people.

 

I wonder how that makes him happy. Interestingly, he embraces same-sex relationships but cannot make sense of how intelligence is a turn-on.  I don’t bother trying to explain it to him; he’s intelligent enough to get it. He just can’t be bothered.

I guess.

My point however, is it is what it is. He is a valued friend; one of the few people I can share my strangest thoughts with and not feel like a psychopathic killer. We just can’t agree on sapiosexuality.

 

And that’s fine.

 

There are a lot of things about me that make people uncomfortable. I accept that. There are a lot of things about me that make some of the people I hold most dear not know what to do with me. I accept that too. I accept these things because I’ve come to understand; just because people do not understand or like a particular thing doesn’t make that thing automatically bad. 

It just is what it is.

 

 

But; and I can tell you this for free – I did not always understand that. I would have friends, we would fight and I would spend time agonizing over the fact that I have done it again, whatever ‘it’ was supposed to be. And sometimes, I would ask such friends and they would be unable to explain what it was to me. So I thought maybe it’ll be best if I stopped having friends. No friends, no heartbreak. And for a while, I was okay.

 

And then, as it happens in fiction, I fell in love.

 

That particular romance shaped a lot of me. I had someone who bothered, who took the time to know me for me, and not based on what someone said or whatever his expectations were. I knew what it felt like to be loved and accepted for who I was.

It felt like I imagine heaven to feel. It. Was. Everything.

 

Of course, I have flaws and I continually work on making them better. However, there’s a clear difference between bad and unusual/different. A lot of us are unhappy because people are not accepting of us because we don’t meet their idea of perfect. We continually try to fit ourselves into boxes created for us but we don’t belong in and it’s killing us slowly. Daily, we unintentionally commit slow suicide.

 

That’s no life.

 

We must learn to embrace ourselves for who we are. Again, to be clear – that is not to say ‘be rude if that’s who you are’ or ‘be an asshole’ and so on. It’s okay to not like Game of Thrones. I don’t. It’s okay to not care for Avengers Infinity War/Black Panther and the rest of those things. I do – and that’s fine either way. Be good to yourself sha, we’re all going through stuff and you deserve to be happy.

 

You’re beautiful, and your scars are nothing but beauty marks. Enjoy them.

 


To Live Or Not To Live.

 

I’m having a creative dilemma.

There’s a new something I’m starting to learn – albeit unwittingly. It starting to be a ‘challenge’ for me to be excited about the things that used to matter to me anymore. I feel as though the anticipation of a thing is more fun than the thing itself.

Case in point: the forthcoming Avengers Infinity War.

Sooner or later it will be the 27th of April. Sooner than later, it would have been the 30th of November – and there will be some other movie (Aquaman, maybe?) to be excited about. In fact, I feel like I am more excited about John Wick Chapter 3, a movie that doesn’t have a release date as of time of writing, than I am about Infinity War.

The anticipation of a thing is more exciting than the thing itself.

Case in point: Sex.

Invariably, I feel as though I’m living from one point to the next, one movie to the next, one book to the next and so on. Like I don’t have the time to truly enjoy the experience of these/those things for what they are. Like I just want to put a stamp on something; like ‘Seun Was Here’ and then, on to the next thrill. Like…life is just a BRT ride – constantly going back and forth, from stop to stop.

No time to break.

I feel like; what’s the hurry though? Why do I feel a need to go from on thrill to the next? Why am I not so excited about Infinity War when anyone who knows me knows it’s a combination of two of my favorite things; comics and movies? Does it have something to do with the reality that I am growing older, or is it some deeper and more complicated reason? Does it have to do with the pattern I have noticed in my doings lately – a lot of the things that used to excite me don’t excite me anymore?

Why though?

Could it be that I need some new experiences, new challenges (which I have in spades)? Could it be I need to be somewhere else (maybe jail, for instance) to rediscover the spark that made my life an adventure at some point?

Or could I have fallen for the trap that has claimed so many before me, the sudden, utter realization that truly, I have become an adult?

Lord have mercy.