Feel like a fleck of dust...

On the back of God's neck. It can be scary to understand where your
place in existence could have been sans Christ. I say existence
because we are such vain creatures that we've imagined that the only
reason we don't have regular extra-terrestial visitations is that
there's no one else out there. I'm not advocating for or against, but
I have a problem with people who imagine there aren't better places to
visit than earth. I wonder what they call us where we're only noticed
as a star. Where we loosely refer to as Orion's belt, is somebody's
home. What do they call 'my' home? As I write this, I think I've had
it with this insomnia. I lose productivity recovering from listening
to sounds that fuel my imagination at hours that are popularly
referred to as ungodly. I need to change time zones urgently. Will
someone please answer this cry for help? Thinking aloud, but listen to
this bout of honesty.
I am a man. I have to daily deal with my parents' unintentional
failures, my personal failings, & the negative garbage that comes my
way via the society I live in. It is hard to be productive in a place
that slaps the shit out of me when I attempt to speak of a pattern
that I recognise and attempt to put together in my writing. I'm
privately glad that my words are tolerated by you few guys. Why? Are
you kidding me?
Brain Waves are a thing of the future, except for a few. We use them
now. I feel like a man who had the football skills of David Beckham in
the mid-19th century. Pretty to look at, but no one's going to pay a
farthing to see or use to further the British Empire.
I'm not depressed. I just realised how insignificant all of this is
outside of God. Insignificant.
I have been told to ground myself, to find stability... I couldn't
agree more. But when you've faced internal suicide as often as I have.
It is pretty hard to be 'sensible'.
As I close this blog, it is my intention to ask God to step in or drop
me off. Not a threat. Just a need for clarity.
To quote Conan the Barbarian: One thing I ask of you, Crom. Grant me
revenge. But if you cannot even do that, then to hell with you.
Well...he got his revenge. You know what revenge for me is?
Success. Success is the ultimate revenge. I don't care for 300k women,
who are total strangers, harbouring fantasies about me when with their
husbands.
Success is actually getting my work to work for me. My writing
becoming the basis of a novel series, television series, movie deals,
or some kids I don't know from Adam walking up to me & telling me that
my books changed them for the better.
An SL 500 won't be too bad either. Or a few literary (cash) prizes,
critical recognition, or a nice house to sit about to dream up & write
down in, or wife & kids who know when not to disturb Daddy, or love my
french toast and curl up in bed with me to listen to my tall stories
about how Lagos was a hard place to live in when I was a child in the
80s (Daddy, what do you mean there was no internet? So how did you
talk with people abroad? Oh, cell phones right?)

Thank you for sharing this private moment with me. I will endeavour to
reduce the insanity next time. Endeavour is the key word.

P.s. Know any entreprising mad men willing to work a series of
literary ideas all the way to the big screen? Or at least a short
length feature at Cannes?

--
Sent from my mobile device

Would you prefer a 'job' opportunity or a job?

He who has a WHY can survive any HOW- F. Nietzsche.
I looked back at my life & the lives of those I love enough to care
about. (This was while, suprise suprise, my eyelids were coming
together) from advertising to radio to banking to magazine editing.
Most were jobs, the only opportunities available were changing
departments or promotion.
I'm not knocking paid employment. I'd rather be slapped silly than do
that...well, not really, but I trust my point is made clear. It has
been a ride to crazy places. I think that if I were to choose, I'd
have to say... Job Opportunities.
Let me highlight some of the things I've learned in terms of employment.
1. Work sucks. It doesn't matter what you're doing, if there's an
aspect that requires drudgery, then it sucks. It has been a very
dulling affair for me. 6 figures cannot make up for dying dreams. In
advertising I wanted to make short films, in radio I wanted to make my
own comedy programmes, in banking I wanted to revolutionize lending
processes so the economy would be supported by the banking industry
(not the other way round. No apologies from my end on this because the
chickens came home to roost & the economy didn't feel any obligation
to aid the banks), in magazines I wanted to validate the readers by
offering succour via articles that would hit home not just parade
other people's opinions. But in advertising I had climbing obligations
(I was being used, but I didn't mind since I was learning on the job.
I should have been paying THEM), in radio I wasn't a good politician
(I'm still rubbish at it. I'd rather a good job done as a team, than
pulling team members down. It's true. It's King's College thing, to
back-up, support & defend your mates. Floreat), in banking I had to
deal with keeping other people's promises while stomaching the insults
for my desire to help my customers more than wanting to get money from
them (I do concede the relationships were older than my involvement in
the bank, but when push comes to shove, the small businesses we could
have supported would have done more for us than the big businesses
that 'remember' to perform their loans with a feeling that we needed
them more than they needed us. My opinion anyway.) in magazines I hate
having to babysit publishers while trying to do my work (and politics
came in again. I tried to stand up for the team, everyone just looked
at me like I was crazy. Well, when things came to a head, as I'd been
trying to forestall, I kept my opinions to myself. I couldn't afford
half-a-shit about their problems.)
There were opportunities abound in these situations, but it does feel
dishonest to do 'your' work at the expense of the 'employer's' work.
Still some people get by that way. Won't knock them about it. My drum
follows different strokes.
I was offered an opportunity to work under a draconian chap who's
pleasant enough on the informal tip but a dragon on the formal. I'm
still praying about it. I've got 24 hours to reply. Whatever I get
from God, I will do. I just hope I hear clearly. In times like these,
hunger screams pretty loudly. Heh heh...
I know that if I do take the opportunity, I stand to touch things I
only dreamed about, even if the work sucks & I have to play
pretend-politician. It comes with a price, opportunity.
Very often, you get peeled back like an onion until you stand naked,
bare of all psychological covering & in need of emergency TLC. You get
too tired to pray & hear from God for your next move.
At this point I will quote Bolaji Idowu- Everybody has their fights.
There are some fights that when you win, you don't have to fight most
of the others.
Opportunities present those kind of fights to you. I don't know what
your fight is, or what your opportunities are (in or outside paid
employment) but I do know this...if God, who gives us the power to
make wealth, is all you're looking at or looking for, He will add
everything, & I mean everything without exclusion, to you.
I have to shut down now. Thinking of the hard-mind mentality I'll need
to keep up with God, and grateful that He has made the strength
available to keep up. All that's on me right now, is to do it.
I'm not smart, by the way. Maybe that's what'll come out of me at the
end of this road. Maybe.

--
Sent from my mobile device

Pre-Insomnia poetry

Everybody knows who threw the first blow/ Who're you fighting for,
Cain or Abel, nobody really knows.
Men tells us to war, tell victory promises covering heaven & earth/
But who're they kidding? They couldn't even promise birth.
I'm not feeling tired or defeated, inspite of how I'm treated/ I'm
choosing where I stand as history's repeated.
Where's the road we're treading on going? Direction we're flowing/
Half the battle is staying alive, the other half is knowing.
No man is greater than me, I'm no greater than Jesus/ That's why I ask
him forgive us because he sees us.
My cross is on me, my carrying it is daily/ Even on days when it feels
like it doesn't suit me.
I'm reminded to be humble whenever a bit of trouble/Comes towards me &
my attitude starts to fumble.
Give me space, give me room, give it to me soon/ My heart's not in it
just to win it, but to do what He wants me to.
To prove Jesus right in my every fight, day or night/ He sees me
clearer than we see black & white.
My weaknesses are real, they toy with how I feel/ But I must outlast
them to win, that's the deal.
I try to press on, then I fall, & to top it all/ People see you in
trouble they don't even stop or stall.
To curse sounds great, that is no debate/ Until your life is changed
in your truest state.
That's you naked & not hidden, answering when bidden/Knowing the
Master's voice when he wants your best, not your average or middle.
What does He promise in exchange for your very best?/ Faith comes with
things we as a race can't fathom just yet.

I wrote this after I ran into someone from my better past. I'm getting
back on the road. She would have been great to date, but I'm
unfit...and I know it. So... I press on. Thanks for reading.

Does Lagos really win when she breaks people?

There are few things sadder than the forced appearance of success. The
fact of glory without power, power without glory, success without
substance, substance without success...my parents never did prepare me
for this. It is a thing I'm to prepare for by my own self. I think
about these things because I can't help it. I wonder what things await
the next corner & I'm fast losing my patience in the promises that
seem to slack in coming to pass. I'll share this story with you.
I ran into a few friends that reminded me of when we were still kids
burning with visions of 'Being Big'. When you're on the cutting edge,
your talent providing for you, your personality speaking for
you...looking at them, I can't help but remember the words of a
William Butler Yates poem 'A king wastes his blood being the dream of
other men.' I may have misquoted it, but the essence is intact. We are
kings without kingdoms, our subjects have nothing to offer us, but our
life's blood is spilt on the altar of their fantasies. Why? It is our
duty. We could slack & duck behind office jobs, but we would blend in
like dolphins with sharks.
The corporate world called me again. Perhaps they've always been
calling, but I was deafened by my desire to be an accomplished artist.
This desire has taken so many hits, that when I think about it, I have
to wonder aloud if it isn't singing a sad intro to suicide.
Lagos is the gathering point of talent in Nigeria, the door to the
outside world, the home of the annual Black Heritage festival...& yet
she breaks us who are dedicating our lives to our art. Daily.
Perhaps I'm a poor student of the hustle, perhaps I'm a depressing
example of those who believed in the dream too quickly to count the
costs accurately...who knows? Who cares? I'm here. Where am I going
from here? I do not know. So what do I know?
Lagos doesn't win when she breaks her own. I'm not a Lagosian, but I'm
of Lagos. I've seen 4 coups, 1 was unsuccessful, 2 interim
governments, a shaky beginning to democracy...compared to any european
my age outside, I'm older. Not twice as old, but close enough.
I think Lagos breaks us so we won't forget God who provides, protects,
blesses, guides & shows favor. But Lagos still doesn't win. How many
of her own has God saved & still wanted to pay Lagos good for evil?
How many? From poverty association with the police, to random violence
with the army, to insensitivity with the government workers...to say I
know where we're going is a lie. It is sad when parents teach their
kids to eat the flesh of their contemporaries. I've seen them. It
breaks my heart. Twice an acquaintance has tried to hustle me via the
promise of oil transactions. The only people gaining are the telecomms
companies. It seems his inspiriation comes from another person who hit
it big...but seems unready to share how he did it.
I've not finished. I've walked alongside people who mistake patient &
quiet people for fools. It doesn't really matter the industry or
company. I've even caught myself doing that. But I remember a
saying,'beware the anger of a patient man.' I think that is how it is
going to play out. Success is the best revenge, I believe that with
all my remaining heart. But I also believe that success & revenge lie
in the hands of God. You can't seize either of them. You can join
groups, cults, but it is only with God that good things come without
sorrow. Recently a large global cult has been suffering huge
membership turnover. Why? The sorrow outweighs the success offered. I
think what's even sadder is that it took this long for the realisation
to sink in. Hey, everyone to his/her own, right? So long as you don't
mess with me & my own. I had to share this because even though I slept
last night, I didn't rest. I need more than a miracle right now. I'm
fit to make war, even though I'm more of a brawler than a martial
artist. But I don't want to. I can't afford to. No one to tend to my
grave.
I haven't lost faith, only I've woken up to the fact that my eyes were
still half-open after my personal revelation.
I'll give back to Lagos. I've no choice in the matter. My only other
option is to make the world worse for my children. It gets me
wondering if my parents' generation didn't make the same observations,
but what we have now is based on the options taken by the majority. I
don't think the picked the first option. I think that's where they
failed. I think that's why Lagos still breaks people. I think.

An elegant ugliness

I think, therefore I am- Rene Descarte.
The appreciation of life will always be an understatement until you
die. This my submission on the brief actualities that we living
creatures must wait on. These things will not happen according to our
will. I get the sense of the revelation of God in certain pockets of
our lives, certain Points of No Return.
Like your first orgasm. The memory of it gets fuzzy after you've
abused your body in search of a faithful repeat (you know what I
mean...) but it is such a near religious experience, that I'm often
tempted to believe it to be a desperate search for what we don't
understand that is so much more than le petit mort. It was used in
pagan rites...well, it is used in pagan ceremonies to flavor the
disappointment of falling short of what we seek.
I digress (again, I'm sorry).
I think I'm more curious about the paths of death than the actuality
of it. Death not in physical terms, but in other terms. I think the
most general analogy I can give is the necessary death of a seed to
become a shoot. What applications does this have for us? To die to our
proclivities, our selfishness, our points of stupidity, our bad
habits, our favorite lies, our crutches, our addictions...many things
to die to. Thankfully, it is a popular hope that we will outlive these
necessary deaths.
These necessary deaths are an Elegant Ugliness to me. Death is ugly,
messy, unpleasant, & completely terrible to consider. However it is
the results of these deaths that makes up for this. The results are so
often elegant. I know. I've seen it & I've never being blown away
quite like when I see them.
Like when I learned that I had to be more grounded. I'm a nomad by
nature. I'm not a corporate creature. Never been. Tried it a few
times. I just like things to function to the point of valid results.
Due process is welcome, except when it takes too much independent
thought from the individual, stemming initiative, encouraging
dependency & ass-kissing. I hate it when it gets too much. But I'm
working towards being more grounded. The results promise to be so very
beautiful so far. I'm not quitting just yet. Even though things aren't
fully defined yet, I take it like a farmer who has to have faith that
his seeds are germinating. Yeah. That's it.

What is stupid?

It's not ignorance. It's not fear. It's not misguided thoughts. It's
acting on them. There's a time lag between stimulus & response. That
is what determines stupidity on a scale of 0-10. I have been stupid. I
can't promise I won't be stupid later. Very often it is most clear in
hindsight. It keeps a man humble when he realises his mistakes. To
quote Seal's When a man is wrong,' Oh my friend. You sometimes get
things wrong to get things right.'
I wish it was all the time. Well. I'm going to shut my eyes now. I
hope it's not going to be in futility. I guess it will be, but hey, I
don't count sheep since I learned about their uses in distant
countries where a shepherd can be lonely. It just ruined it for me.
Sleep in exchange for a rude laugh. God help me.

--
Sent from my mobile device

A harvest of Tigers

It is possible to destroy the future. The man who kills a million is
no murderer to him who kills billions unborn. It is from regret that
men consider the possibility of alternate futures. We often question
the cruelties of others, blindly advocating for universal fairness &
justice. Blindly, I say, because no man is yet able to accurately
measure the worth of a single human life in isolation. In all our
preaching & posing, we still fall short of the things that are
expected of our intellect, like realising that no man is God. It is in
this that we are arrogant, for we believe that, very much like all
things biological, the fruits of a man's life cannot be changed.
People don't change, but when they learn what they don't like about
themselves, discover what they do like & commit to it, their fruits
change. It depends on how early or how late they discover this & also
on what they do with the discovery. The tragedy is when people don't
discover the best part of themselves.
It is very often that the best of a parent is found in their
child/children. Sometimes it is cherished, nurtured & strengthened by
the parents & older people. Most times it is crushed, destroyed &
given no chance to become. This is the death of a Tiger. The African
Tiger is a myth. There are no tigers on the continent...except in the
spirit. The Lion & the Tiger are not the same. The Lion struts, the
Tiger stalks. The Lion hunts when he has no Lioness to hunt for him,
the Tiger hunts because he can. The Lion is wary of the strength of
the prey he chooses, the Tiger couldn't care less (the insane fear
elephants have of the Tiger's growl is proof enough for me). The Lion
knows when he's too weak to hunt, his pride will abandon him to his
fate, the Tiger lives knowing he depends on no one. The Lion is a
politician, the Tiger is a warrior. The Lion likes to sleep, the
Tiger...is never really still. The Lion is king of the jungle, the
Tiger is what it is, as he is too hard for a title, he'll simply just
show you what he is and leave with sated blood-lust. But of all the
big cats, the one I admire the most is the leopard. It is the only one
with a taste for man-flesh. He never hunts directly. He'll let you see
him & will then circle you. Actually, he uses distraction. You keep
him on the brain for so long, you don't notice that he isn't coming
for you head-on. He attacks from behind. Not noble, I know, but you
have to understand he doesn't weigh that much, accepts his
short-comings and will work his way round them. He likes to eat
man...and dog. True account, I'm not even joking. He can go out of his
way to steal a dog from a compound. Cat eat dog. This leopard in
question 'stole' 3 dogs from a man. One of them from his inside his
bedroom.
I wrote this when I understood better what it means to be. Who said
you have to follow examples before you all the time? The best example
you ever got was how to walk. Once you're on your feet, well...the
rest is up to you. Pick your path, choose your direction, know your
God, give your best...only you and God know where you're coming from,
where you're aiming for...GOD alone knows where you'll end up. But
those who have gone before us offer us examples of 'possible' not
'definite' endings. Think about it. Thank you, insomnia.

--
Sent from my mobile device