On equality...

Bills, bills, bills...

The clock on the mantelshelf says it's 7.17am. A cursory glance at the calendar reveals what I already suspected: it's March 7, 2016.

It's a Monday. 

There are shitloads of things to do. I should've worked on these things at the weekend. I should've sorted them out in my head. I needed to sort them out in my head...you know, lay out the plans...But no. This was one of those weekends. Whereby I shut off social media, reduce human contact to church alone, empty my head of all things resembling sense and reason and just aim to BE. 

So now I sit here, watching the bloody pendulum on that clock go left right left right...inching closer to Catatonia. 

Left, right, left, right...

Then the bills I have to pay proceeded to rouse me in the noisiest way they could muster. 

Bills. 

Bills. 

Is that what we're here for? 

To pay bills and die? 

When we speak of the inevitability of getting older, is this what we mean? You know, how it's inevitable to think of bills first...before job satisfaction? Before happiness??

I know. Why right? Well, I hear bits of it these days. Things that sound like it, look like it etc.

"I have bills to pay, A. My wife is almost due to pop." 

"Chick, I have I two children. I'm not going to leave a job because I'm unhappy. My kids will be unhappy if I can't feed them."

"I've got to bring home the bacon...you know how my wife can be when there's no money...I can't leave. I'd rather be unhappy than stupid."

Is that the end game?

Bills?

Bits of meat????

xx

Work...

Doodling...

#1

                  View from my bed

I'm lying in my bed this beautiful, beautiful Sunday morning.

I'm mentally preparing for worship aka church while marveling at God's sense of humour. 

God has a weirdly beautiful sense of humour and it's no secret I have a thing for a good sense of humour...and a smattering of mischief 😊😊😊

I love that we can talk. 

I love that he listens when I speak. 

I love that I try my darndest to listen when he speaks.

I love that he honours our many deals. 

lol

We actually make deals.

Seriously.

Last night, we made one of such deals.

I was going bonkers looking for a nanoSIM that I was sure I'd kept on my bed. Believe me when I say I spent about two hours looking for this SIM. I even checked the 'fridge! 

Just when I was going to check outside the house, (even though I'd been holed up in my cave all day 😏) He whispered in my ear.

Lol

I was supposed to exhume a body I'd mentally buried last week. 

Okay, Lord. 

I will do it ASAP.

Just gimme my SIM. 

After the exchange, I went around the house one more time, came back to sit on the edge of my bed, resigned to my fate (etisalat's horrible customer service) I was about to turn on the TV and then on a whim, I turned around, there was my nanoSIM. Best believe I'd turned that mattress on its top a few times that evening. I howled and howled lol

God has a sense of humour. 

I've kept my own end of the deal. 

All is well with the world again.

SMHLU.

xx

spiritual connections.

Have you ever met someone and came to the realization that the "relationship must remain a "spiritual union" or a "mystical marriage" or an "astral connection"...an "amitié amoureuse"

Something that mustn't be corrupted by...by...anything at all?

I read WB Yeats and Maud Gonne's 'love story' this a.m. and it reminded me of a relationship I know quite intimately. Even though the story was about why Gonne refused Yeats 5 or more proposals and how she declared "...poets must never marry." (and I agree...except they marry their kind...aaaaand that's a story for another post) I took something else out of the experience.

There are some things you just leave alone because you realize it's just too beautiful and you don't want to taint it...

Oh well...happy hump day!

Enjoy the rest of your week.

xx

On men and relationships...

                          *cackles*

So on Facebook this morning, Friend posted: 

"You know what men do when they are thinking about having a relationship with you? When they’re open to the option?  NOTHING. They do NOTHING. They keep their mouths shut, they scope out the situation, and they let the chips fall where they may. They watch as things are progressing, and if something blooms within their hearts, they come to you with an offer. THAT’S what men do(...)

At some point, very long ago, before all of us were alive, men and women entered into a tacit agreement, whereby men were only responsible for their words. We were to take a man “at his word,” and punish him only when his actions belied those words; when he acted in opposition of them; when he failed to make them true(...)

And these behaviors are what lead us to believe that change is possible; that they are warming to the idea of being with us. They’re not, though. They’re enjoying the moment. They’re enjoying the benefits of the boyfriend experience while remaining indemnified against poor-boyfriend liability.

Me in the comment section: 

"Sometimes, they come to you with an offer and then suddenly realize they were only 998% certain about the offer...(or the moment even...) at that point, they don't mind being called a liar and/or a thief. The moment is gone. And them with it."

I remember the first time we met like it was yesterday...

I remember that smile that never left your face...

I remember how you'd belly your many client induced frustrations in that your trademark half smile...

I remember the day I heard you'd passed...

I remember the tightening in my chest...the one that I feel every time your name pops up in a conversation...or when I come across your number on my phone (I still have that...I know. But you already know how weird I can be)

I remember you, Tosan. 

I remember you. 

I think of you. 

I think of you. 

I know you're well. 

I hope I can some day, think about you without pain...without wondering how such a beautiful soul can be plucked off without notice. 

Facebook just reminded me to wish you a happy birthday and I wanted to hit something so bad. It would've been your 32nd...Sigh. 

Rest in peace, my friend. 

Till we meet.

xx

I should just rant about how I was alive and well all day long and how I'm suddenly feverish and how my temperature is rising by the second and how I feel like diarhea crap and how I think I should just shut down and sleep it off...or how I'd rather watch a movie than do the wise thing which is take some paracetamol and pray the fever doesn't persist...

Sigh

Dear Muse...

You see, we thought we knew the answer to this question (I know "Assumption is the mother of all f&%kups." and shit like that.) and we've mulled over those 2 days...Perhaps, I was overly excited to have you around and I let some things slide by me? (Perhaps? Perhaps? Perhaps??)

You see, darling muse, from a niggle of doubt we've reached full paranoia. We've debated with better judgement for the better part of 4 hours. All possibilities imaginable. Name it. We went through it.

We won. 

(Because "Only the paranoid survive." according to a former friend.) 

Now I have a few questions but the main one (...one that I should've asked eons ago but decided not to because well, I didn't want to sound desperate...) is: Why did you come to see after such a long time? Why tease me like that? 

I'm confused.

Tuesday. 

Was great. 

After all, you were here. 

I thought we finally crossed a major hurdle in our "situationship".

Then Wednesday came. 

And you went cold.

Gave me a perfunctory forehead kiss and ran off in the opposite direction of our plans. 

 

What happened? 

Did I say something/Do something/Not do something that had you clamming up and running off like you had 12 Devils on your heels? 

I know I'm a dick sometimes but it's usually calculated. To be a dick unknowingly...new frontiers I'm not in a hurry to conquer.

You see, I like you. 

I really like you. 

I like the things you make me do...that's why it was really easy to invite you into my head. So, if the experience was that unbearable, so much so that I can barely get more than a few words from you these days, then i'd love to know and I'd love a chance to apologize. (Seriously, less than a thousand words the last time. Jerk...Sorry I didn't mean that. Really.)

I'd hate to live with the knowledge that I made you uncomfortable in any way.

If I'm being paranoid, just pretend this epistle never happened. We'll blame it on my over-active imagination and my extremely sensitive side. Then I'll just go right ahead and mind my business...I'm just sick of you teasing me and I really have to ask:

Are we? 

Or are we not?

What the hell are you doing to me???

Sincerely, 

X.

I couldn't decide if j wanted Jam or Peanut burra or Nutella. 

This is how you know you have trust issues.

Wistful sigh. 

Hashtag: Ponderisms.

There's this sense of calm I get from walking these blogville streets...reading all those blogs I've come to love...walking the streets of these minds I may never put a body or face to...its pure bliss, I tell you. 

Takes me on a journey...back to a place when I was a mishmash of emotions. When we'd make/read absolutely sublime post or just some bullkakery that refused to be silenced. 

The people I read on here...nothing stoked my fire more than remembering those days of rage and zwodder. Some of those people have since melted into the wood works, never to be heard from again in the anon capacity. Some have passed (God rest their souls and help us heal...) Some have stopped writing altogether, sadly...while a curious few have continued writing...for a different audience who maybe have the same ambition: The need to just BE. Or perhaps, priorities have evolved? I don't know...all I know is I love this place to bits.

This place that became my escape for a period of my life when I needed several seats on the the escape train...when Lenny Kravitz's "Get away" was the soundtrack of my existence...this place that allowed me post my "psycho-brabble" without judgement. This place that loved me. 

I really should go back to sounding off here 😊😊

xx

Randomery...

Life without medication.

Not drugs

Not the Internet

Not retail therapy

Not Music therapy

Just life, you 

and silence

..................

This mental laziness is real.

Mental laziness is the worst type of laziness yet because one really can't do much about it.
Just gripe and gripe and gripe and sulk and rail at something or someone for the fact that you just can't seem to get your brain to get off the couch.

Bloody couch potato.

No amount of cussing will help.

Just walk away.

Gets to class first...

...sits at the back of said class
Naturally.

Have a great day, y'all
Mine already started well...with Coffee!
:)


-
xx


Picture: My View Today
#30Days30Pictures

Las Buj nights...

One is due up in about 6hours yet one is not near zzzzzzland even though one is absolutely Knackeredddd from traveling alllll day.

While trying to get used to the hotel room that will be home for the next 14 nights, I shall iron a shirt, watch AFMAG and count sheep when they fail (coz they will :( )


Oh well...Snack time.



P.S.
Still on the #30days30Pictures program. I haven't posted since the first one coz my mobile app refused to work...wistful sigh.

Because I'm happy :)

So, I'm at work, on the morning shift (Haven't been on air in about 3 weeks) and I very nearly just id'ed my former station.

El-Oh-El.

Nicely done, mind. Nicely done.
Shior.

Oh well, I just thought I'd look in :)

Have an awesome day!

xx

------

Picture: To New Beginnings :)
#30Day30Pictures

#NoteToSelf

“Anxiety and Ennui are the Scylla and Charybdis on which the bark of human happiness is 

most often wrecked.” 

– William Edward Hartpole Lecky 

(The Map of Life)

(FYI: Scylla and Charybdis were mythical sea monsters. Scylla was said to be a rock shoal (described as a six-headed sea monster) on the Italian side of the strait and Charybdis was a whirlpool off the coast of Sicily. They were regarded as a sea hazard located close enough to each other that they posed an inescapable threat to passing sailors; avoiding Charybdis meant passing too close to Scylla and vice versa.)


Hi. I'm Aee and I'm a wreck

:)

I've been away from this space for so long but my mind has been here the whole time. I honestly wish there was an app that could translate my thoughts into a blogpost. Infact, I will put my money behind it fa.

If wishes were horses. 

There are so many things I would've done if I could just wish them into being.

I'd have changed the course of Game of Thrones for sure...and The Wire would never end and Goodluck Jonathan would sack his entire backroom staff...and 80% of his cabinet as well. Mario Balotelli would have signed for Arsenal last week and Bacary Sagna would have stayed back because I'd have made Arsene Wenger, Ivan Gazidis et al give him the contract he wanted. Keshi's 23 man list would've been a little different. Nigeria would be having a Reconciliation Commission thingie going on now and not a silly CONFAB.

Sigh.

If wishes were horses.

Oh well, I've missed this place and I hope I never go back to not writing on here ever again. See, even though I talk for a living, there are things I desperately want to say but can't because I probably will be jobless after saying them. Twitter and I are on some kind of "trial separation" and Facebook doesn't help much...largely because you can't say anything without people patiently waiting on the sidelines to fit you into the "right box".

If your views aren't feminist enough, the feminists will attack, if they're too feminist, the misogynists get their drawers in a twist. If the rabidly religious ones aren't on your case for being "too secular", the atheists are chewing up your bones for being too religious. As if it's not bad enough (Thanks to a new era of acute political awareness) the jaundiced Jonathanians or GEJites and the die-hard Buharists are there with their Pro/Anti APC/PDP boxes. Tiresome stuff, I tell you.

This is just one of the reasons I miss here so much.

Here, I write what I want. When I want. How I want and I shall do more of that going forward.
Life's too short, there's too much in my head and I pledge to burden y'all with a good chunk :D


For now, I'm done.

Have a great week!
I promise i'll be back before you notice I'm gone.


xx

P.S
New Job.
New City.
Tomorrow :)

Peace!

It was a very good year...

When I was 29...it was a very good year
It had ups,
It had downs,
But It went my way...

Kept most of the promises I made to me
Some good,
Some horrid *gasps*
But it was all me.

When I was 29, it was a very fine year,
I learnt some important
lessons in friendship, love...life
And it was all good.

No regrets.
No. Not one.
Are there things I woulda done
Differently?

*pondering*

Naaaaah.

Thanks for being such a sport, 29.
A robust note, I shall write.
Sometime.

††††

Hello 30.
It's good to finally meet you.
You and I will make good music together...trust me.

XX

P.S
FYI, We're stuck with 22. Don't try to kick her out. You can't. ;-)

Tosan.

Death.

Death.

The finality of death.

It hurts like hell, Tosan...It hurts to talk about you in past tense. If tears could bring you back, you'd be here right now showing off one of your designs...I would be critiquing right now and you'd be telling me how you didn't get much sleep.

I remember the first day we met. Sy's birthday party. The definition of a gentleman. I never heard you raise your voice, man. That smile was always on your face...even when you were mad. The day you explained why you preferred to be called "Tosan" instead of "Tosin". I remember laughing so hard.

Talent.

Taught me everything I know about graphic design...enough to get me out of scrapes. I remember how you gushed about my work and told me I could get good at it.

Damn.

The days when I'd walk into the boardroom at the office and you would be there 'coz you worked overnight on some design or the other...How we both had those "Don't disturb" SIM Cards and would cover for each other...How you'd say "Calm down" when I was having one of my moments.

Memories.

Dead. DEAD.

Final.

Rest in Peace, my dear friend, brother, colleague...you were one of a kind.

Rest in Peace.