Category: Thoughts

Coping System, Descriptive, Emotion, Life, Pain, Thoughts, writing

Insignificant Spec of Worry

I. Ogunbase

For a long time, I’ve always thought Adulthood got clearer as one navigated through the madness it entailed. I figured, one would encounter a rough map or a vague set of guidelines which would make the whole experience more streamlined…

I guess…

As usual, however, I’m proven wrong and my thought process is seen as naive.

It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything, longer still since I’ve cried out of anger and hurt but even those tears have failed to convey the message across.

That I’m tired.

I’m tired of everything.

Everyone seems to have an idea on how everyone else needs to behave. Always. And it’s become so deeply pervasive in society that opinions and impressions are enough to ruin your future prospects without even missing a beat.

And life would eat you up as everyone else walked over your dead corpse, without so much as batting an eye at your lifeless figure. The only record of you being a statistic.

But it’s society, right? Society molding you into the average human needed to turn the work wheel into another day, earning the pisspoor paycheck that companies reluctantly give due to their contractual obligation to the government.

It… It hurts worse from family though. Because it’s usually from a place of love, as they try to advice and protect you from the evils they’ve seen of the world outside.

The evils you can see with your own eyes.

The madness you’ve decided to tolerate in your own fashion because you deem it suitable enough to not give you a bother but the family can’t allow that.

You figure that you can just slip into their shoes and do as society does but family and society forcibly remind you that you’re different from them, so you have to act different from them. That you must adhere to rules you don’t understand and tradition you find issues with.

The young wide eyed boy suddenly dull to the environment around him as he wonders why he should even care.

I used to think that when I grew up, I’d be very much myself, with my own quirks, working alongside everyone else with the only difference being our names but I’ve been proven wrong.

Repeatedly.

They say my identity won’t have to change, I just have to change how I do stuff, even when said stuff are not the things that I would want to do on a normal day. Having to conform because it assures my future progresses as smoothly as they hope it can.

I’ve stopped blaming them. Long ago. After all it’s not their fault. We were all unfortunate enough to be born with a darker shade of skin that would set us back in more ways than one.

The deep and dark realisation that no matter how hard you try to forget, you get reminded that you’re still not an equal.

You’re just a diversity statistic.

Maybe this is what it means to be depressed.

Either way…

I am tired.

Descriptive, Emotion, Late Night, Life, Love, Pain, PenPractice, Shorts, Sleepy time, Thoughts, writing

Sleepless… 

I. Ogunbase

What I saw was the “could-be” version of her.

Not the “current”.

I fell for the demo version of her, because she was worried her reality would make me turn away.

I can’t blame her. Maybe I would have run. Maybe I would have stayed, and helped put back her broken frame, piece by piece, till she resembled the perfection that my Creator made her to be.

Either way.  I did stay.

Here.

In love with the reality in front of me.

Looking at her naked self, as she strives to preserve what little shell she has left, because her last companion left her with the damages and walked out of her life.

Either way.
I’m here.

So I roll my sleeves up, retrieving some glue and some sandpaper in hopes that I could assist in making her whole again.

But she doesn’t want me.

So I’m here.

And I don’t know what to do.

Coping System, Descriptive, Emotion, PenPractice, Prose, Shorts, Thoughts, thoughts, Uncategorized, writing

Anti-Climatic Whimsy 

I. Ogunbase

I do this a lot.

I dress my worries, concerns and ‘sigh’ stories in a series of unnecessary literary complexities because it has become increasingly easier to over-simplify the thoughts that race through my mind than to call them for what they are.

Nuisances

The thoughts, not yet spoken, bouncing around like a soda can about to be opened, and yet when the metal seal breaks it’s metal skin, instead of the expected rush of carbonated oral explosion, all I am capable of in that moment, is the gradual hiss of the sounds needed to ease off the pressure off my mind.

Carbon dissipates as the mind regulates back to norm, the coke losing the taste of what attracted its consumer.

I spend so much time navigating the whimsical nature of my mental landscape, as I and I argue the philosophical nature of the world I’ve been born in, often lamenting at how long the discussions take, and how little they manifest in reality.

Dreams upon dreams of change that I remain unsure as to whether or not they’d manifest in my lifetime.

One minute lost in the lands of Horizon Zero Dawn, marveling at the sight that a room of 100+ developers had managed to create, and the next minute, I’m sorting out the plans for my future, my scope, size and possibilities, seasoning the plate with relationship and familiar plans.

The world grows ever colder as the fires of hate burns brighter than ever. The broken branches of alliances being used to stoke the cold flame. The west and the east remain locked in a quiet battle as governmental figures joust with their words, their citizens being used as bet or worse, bait.

The rich acquire more as the not rich bleed the remains of their monthly gain into the pocket of the tax collectors and insurers. The healthy condemn the health service, hoping for dismantling even as the sick look towards the service that reminds them that they too are human.

We are taught that we are different, even though the we bleed the same red elixir of life when we are cut.

Truth is dismissed, regarded as a tool the media utilizes to control, as the people mistake facts for opinions. Lies become the standard of honesty, on the account of being able to “trust them to lie, hence implying i can trust them notwithstanding“

 Fragility is one of the traits that represent humanity, in its delicate definition allowing humans to break… And be put together again.

And with our fragile hearts in its protected frame, we toss, pass and shoot like a game of handball, hoping that our hearts never quite touch the floor, but instead, make it into the court of whom our attraction is pointed towards.

Yet.
Emotional landmines litter the wall of life like a battlefield, waiting for victims to step on and watch their fragile hearts explode in pieces.

Then we spend the days/weeks/months/years carefully putting together what we saw break down. It’s frustrating, it’s hard, its delicate and tender, sore from its misuse. But we took, day in and day out at working to ensure we are protected for the next time, because we didn’t learn from the first time.

And still.

Even with all our hard work and sleepless, pillow wet nights, there always exists a missing piece to the full puzzle.

The eternal evidence that we will never really be whole again.

And that hurts.

I live in a world where my skin acts as the unwanted filter to whether or not i get particular  life choices. Like an RPG game, where I’m hindered from progression via a pathway simply because I’m of the wrong race. 

But we deal. 

We buckle down and adhere by the rules of the land. We assimilate and confirm because it’s easier. Or so we’d like to believe. 

It’s easier to listen.

It’s easier to not be eligible to buy a house because I’m not eligible for a loan of sorts.

It’s easier to work twice as hard for a position even though i already possess more qualifications than my counterparts. 

It’s easier to be shot dead simply because i appeared more threatening on account of my height and my skin colour. 

It’s easier to be profiled before speaking, then re-profiled for having a good grasp of the nation’s language, culture and art. 

And yet, I’m still hated on account of me being black. 

And then there’s you.

The average person trying to make ends meet, and better yet, achieve those childish dreams that made you colour books and play dress up.

I’m only a voice in the corner of the internet, having whimsical conversations with myself.

But you.

You can be great.

Heck, you ARE great.

Now i don’t know if anyone has told you lately, but take it from me… Me, the written calligraphic words on your screen.
I believe in you.

Go be Awesome.

Bae, Descriptive, Emotion, Late Night, Life, Love, PenPractice, Prose, Shorts, Thoughts, writing

Out the Window.

I. Ogunbase

The beauty of the shiny green pastures wheeze past me gracefully, as they remain static in their growth, dancing only to the soft wind that blew across the quiet land. 

Back when it was just me, enduring the quiet rides by the windowsill of the Virgin train that ran all the way back to the place I’m duty bound to call Home. The carriage maintains a just above average hum, of the occupants discussing the day’s events, retelling stories of past memories, making plans for the weekend in London and the likes. 

It’s at times like this, where I look towards the horizon and watch the night sky slowly take over the activities it’s day sister has relegated to him. The purple haze at the horizon point, slowly painting the sky into an artistic blue, before place the yellow dotted wonders that make up the starry sky. Sometimes, if I focus enough, I remember the days when I’d sleep outside with my family, back in Nigeria, on the cars of the house, due to the absence of light. 

And we’d indulge in our dreams of the future but most importantly, the quiet companionship under the starry sky. 

Reality however, has a odd way of taking things off you when you believe it is all you could ever want. But Life, as it turns out, would make it clear you don’t need. 

The train used to be just me. 

Then I introduced myself to you, in the blue dress as you sat quietly in the corner, watching the minutes pass by on our mutual’s graduation celebration. I hadn’t thought that far ahead when we exchanged names, and I pestered for your number. 

Here you are… next to me, and as we spend the journey watching a movie as the train makes its way back down to the place we call Home. Your focus is on the scenes taking place on the small screen of my tablet surface, while my mind’s focus is on you. You. In my serenity, causing me no comfort.  

I can’t look out the windowsill anymore, to the beauty of nature that the Creator blessed the Earth with, because you now stand in the way, and any attempt of mine to look past you ends, with me just looking at you. 

But. 

I think He gave me a better view of the beauty I’d like to keep on seeing for as long as He’d let me see…

You. 

 

 

Late Night, Life, PenPractice, Shorts, Thoughts, writing
I. Ogunbase

Over the last couple months, I’ve lived, loved and lost. 

I’ve enjoyed a wonderful set of months that words don’t quite come close to explaining it. Ironically, I haven’t done much so maybe it’s the relative peace of mind I’m enjoying. And that’s coming from someone who worries a lot. 

I’ve loved and still loving, to be completely honest with you, the lady in my life has she has taken it upon herself to become the deterrent to my not so pleasant self. She’s awesome and I try to let her know everyday 

And I’ve lost. 

If you’ve stuck around to listen to the conversation I have with myself this has to be something that has cropped up over the years.ive lost friends, attitudes, some hobbies and some aspects of my personality I’m still not sure I’m supposed to lose, but methinks that’s a different conversation. 

That said. 

The future is more focused now and all I’m focusing on is the intensity of that which I don’t know. The uncertainty at taking the next step in a life journey without actually knowing what the step will lead to. 

Its like standing at the helm of a cruise boat staring at the possibility of a sunny trip, torrential downpour and storm, wondering where the steering my lead. 

It’s all confusing.  
All these information being absorbed and yet my mind can’t sift through fast enough to figure out my next plans. My eldest sister would argue and say I have no forward planning. 

Before I’d argue but now I’d agree, albeit in a rebellious reluctant attitude, but how can I have forward planning when I’m don’t know what forward I’m trying to move towards to. 

Society popularly teaches that the early 20s are when you should be unsure about the future as you try to find your feet, but I can’t help but wonder if that timeframe is extended. 

I know what I’d like at the end of the tunnel, but I’m left second guessing if it would be worth it. With everything else suddenly fighting for priority, would my destination at the end of the tunnel change? 

More importantly, is this how people’s dreams die? 

At the murderous hands of uncertainty and non-existent clarity? 

Thoughts

Casual Ramblings

I. Ogunbase

My eyes are blurry at the moment.

In truth they have been for a while now, only cleared by the use of prescripted glasses I never thought I would wear till I saw the inevitability in such a statement. After all… it’s the end result of being stuck behind a monitor for hours on end.

Regardless. I’m here now. Vision marred by my life choices so I can’t really complain.

It’s just the mental registry of the fact that I am here of my own volition.
My escape into the literary method of ascribing my feelings and thoughts in ASCII was a choice I voluntary made when the pen and papers began to feel less personal. You’d think having a journal would be as personal as one can get, and yet it lost it’s hold on me. Instead, I chose to create a temporary web space to deposit the congress of thoughts plaguing my activities day in and day out.

So yeah… blurry eyes.

Then again, it could be the hazy mist of liquified sadness tittering on the edge of skating down my ebony skin. Obviously not, because ‘men’ don’t cry as society would let you believe. Maybe men should. Maybe women should steel themselves up. I don’t know.

—

Nothing makes sense as much anymore as the world balances nicely on the edge of extreme beliefs. Everyone is off picking sides, arguing out their veritas staunchly to the end, masked with slight threats and actual death threats, because nobody wants to be found alone in the middle.

The duality of choices.

Coke vs Pepsi

Belief vs Non-belief

Religion vs Science

Right vs Left

Good vs Evil.

—

When I was younger, the allure of the grey held me enraptured. The murky, artful colour of black and white dancing an eternal singsong of who will be dominant. The yin-yang of life interlocked. 

White with darkness within. 

Black with holy introspection. 

The world would fool you to believe that the middle ground is where it’s at. Except the world can’t even give you the decency of taking its own advice. 

The world’s ticker is swinging from one end to another. 

Us vs Them. 

Eventually. Someone is going to win. 

However, with objectivity being a ruling factor in humanity’s choices of who they represent. A side will win. The question is… 

Which side? 

Coping System, Emotion, Life, Prose, Shorts, Sleepy time, Thoughts

Sunset

I. Ogunbase

​The time is past sunset now, the dark blueish tint enveloping the night sky above.

It’s a Sunday. Stereotypically evident, by the lack of cars on the road, and the orange glow of lighting in everyone’s home. It’s the day to cut back. Society would have you believe that should be a Saturday but it’s a lie.

Sunday is when you rest. Sunday is when you reflect.

In a few short hours, the subsect of the world of which it remains night goes quiet as the mind relegates to it’s battery saver state, preparing for the morning wake and the subsequent actions that follow. Clockwork really, as the body gets set back into its routine of making money and pretending to look busier than they actually are in hopes of making more.

Typical stuff.

When I was younger, I used to fantasise that I’d be sitting at the edge of a building, or beachhead or balcony, watching the sunset in the horizon. This…dream would usually be populated by close friends and a girlfriend, conversing, laughing, socialising and eventually being comforted by the silence of being next to loved ones, as we gaze into the distance of where our deepest dreams lay accomplished. The sunset would usually be in its earliest position, the orange glow bathing us in that warm hug of loving goodness, just before it dips below the horizon.

The sunset is different now. My fantasy having being transformed by life experiences, the orange tint is absent. Now? It’s just me at the edge alone, sitting with my eyes closed.

It’s relevance in being open is useless here.

After all, what’s there to see but the dark purple mix of warm and cool, painting the sky in the uncertainty of what the future might hold. I had once believed that my path onwards would be one taken together with a group of like-minded people, walking hand in hand.

My naivety has been cruel to me. I once led myself to dream that we’d all congregate in years time, together on that edge but even I knew that to be a lie.

Maybe it’s time I get up from the view before me and return back to the house.

Life, Prose, Shorts, Thoughts, Time, Uncategorized

1

I. Ogunbase

The world is currently amassing into groups and crowds as the global clock ticks towards the end of the day. The end of the month. The end of the year.

As expected, numerous blog post will post up new things to look forward to in the new year, or new outlooks to embrace, or games to expect or movies to anticipate, so on and so forth.

Some will congregate inside churches, dancing, praising and worshipping their way into the new year, while the others will congregate in clubs and bars and all, dancing and welcoming in the new year with unbound reverie.

The darkness outside forces me to cast my mind back through the year, to inspect on how the year has gone and all I have is a sober gratitude to my Maker that I’m at the door to the next one.

If I localise the feeling, it’s been a wonderful year. I’ve got a girlfriend. I’ve got a new job. I feel different and happier. There’s a new respect between my dad and I. While admittedly, I have a few gripes with certain plans, it’s been a good year.

If I expand the circle past the boundaries of home, the world has become increasingly dangerous. Radicalism is back on the rise as people take advantage of deep seated frustrations and transform them to hate. So we’re back to hating each other as the ones that rule us intentionally cause discord and divide between us.

I don’t know what next year holds.

But my hands on the door, and I guess I can only hope and pray that next year goes as God wills it to.

Happy New Year in 3… 2…

Late Night, Sleepy time, Thoughts, thoughts

Musings After Dark 1

I. Ogunbase

It’s 3:21 AM.

Sometimes I wonder what would cause a man to stay up that late except for indulgence in nefarious purposes but currently, in my case… I’m trying to fix my PC. Of all the things in the world, it’s importance is little, but it remains a coping system, helping my mind to wander the dark recesses I leave untouched.

I’ve been meaning to pen my thoughts for a while now, but as you know… my mental debates rarely makes it on the white pages of my personal internet space. And man, have I talked. About random things too… From random debates on which [Bleach] character is the strongest to comments about the political, social and emotional aspects of the world.

Here I am, fretting about the working state of my computer while out there, somewhere in this cold and dreary Christmas weather, children are running with their parents, away from a life of blood and ashes. The internet remains awash with pictures of Kanye West and Kim Kardashian, supposedly in reports of a split. President-Elect Donald J. Trump continues his ill-advised Victory Tour as he relishes in the era of lies, fake news and demagoguery that he has created.

As someone born in the 90s, sometimes I find it weird to reconcile that fact that not only have I gone through a drastic and steep change in technology, I’m possibly present at what could be the turning point of the world.

Tension is high between governments. Citizens are concerned about employment and job prospects. Refugees are hoping for a chance to live again, and not survive day to day, hand to mouth. The division caused by the era of hatred that Adolf Hitler created is suddenly being re-enacted.

Splitting hairs really, aren’t I?

People used to be better when I was little. I’m not so naive to think that the world was perfect, but as a race, we cared. We loved. We welcomed with some form of open hands. Or at least, I believe so.

But as technology progressed, it would seem our capacity for more emotions has dwindled. If we can’t share it on Facebook, or Twitter, or Instagram, or Snapchat, our interest in the matter severely reduces, except the brave few who go out to do the things we’re too coward to do.

2016 is coming to an end, and everyone seems to buy into the expectation that 2017 would be much better than this plot-twist of a year.

I find myself doubtful however.

Nonetheless, all we can do is hold our heads up high and march on into 2017, determined and ready for whatever may come our way.

it’s 4 AM.

I should probably sleep.

Thoughts

Writing and Writing things

I. Ogunbase

nano_feature

 

So like this began on Nov 1.

15 days in and I’m shamefully still stuck at 5000+ words. Laughable, I know… But it honestly isn’t my fault. I’ve just been busy, is all. At least, that’s the excuse that makes me feel better whenever I think about how much I should have written by now.

But I’m still chugging on.

Whats another 45,000+ words, ey?