Category: Thoughts

Life, Prose, Shorts, Thoughts

Cold Cases

I. Ogunbase

I can taste the blood in my mouth, strong, iron. My tongue flicks in disgust, curiosity and conceded to the truth of the matter. My gum is bleeding somewhere. My finger goes in to inspect, i feel the teeth, following the tongue as it led me to the culprit. I touch it, I check.

My chest rises and falls as my mind contemplates the occurrence of the bleeding gum. It is fleeting however, as my mind returns back to the conundrum at hand. The box of cold cases opened at the feet of my mental detectives.

It remains in the middle, as they all stare at it frightfully. Certain boxes, after all, really shouldn’t be opened, especially after much hassle and heart pain had been felt over the cases themselves.

Imagery aside, I find myself jousting with the same foes that I have battled for a long time. The same set of enemies, the same set of moves… just this time, we fight on a new battleground.

The darkness outside reminds me I’m alone out here. Minimal social contact, except for housemates but not enough to fill the void within. I feel lonely. A feeling I fought repeatedly when I sought work in a time when I had none. The feeling of being stuck in the cubicle of a room, staring at the walls and the phone hoping someone could draw you out of the house even if it was brief. But no… not over here. It’s cold out. And the absence of a four-wheeled beauty meant my legs stayed stuck to the floor of my room, as I found solace in what used to be my coping system. Gaming.

I power the system and wait for it to come on.

“En garde”, my mind shouts as I battle Frustration with frustration. Frustration at the fact the my future is still a mathematical puzzle with no imaginary number to solve it. I’m not even trying to take control of God’s plans for my life, but I’m quite literally staring at a blank screen hoping that it would eventually show static.

Frustration at the fact that I’ve spent so much but gained so little from all the driving lessons I’ve done. Oh, I can drive, but when your job requires you to move about just before your driving test, then you get into a bind of sorts. Multiply that with the multitude of new lessons in a new area, plus the postponement upon postponement of test date, then you have to question why your bank account has a picture of you doing a back flip into the red zone.

“10/10 would Olympics again”

Frustration at the realization that I am prone to forgetting stuff which in turn makes me make blunders that I spend time apologizing for. I stress that audible articulation is not my best form of communication. Yet people expect just that. Heck, as it stands, written is not even as efficient but it tends to be more precise than the things I say because my mind is quite humorously inept in stringing sentences together well enough for me to say them.

Cue the ho-hum.

My mind flips through the other cases… Hope, Life, Career, Love, Motivation and a couple more obscure names flash across. It chickens out and closes the boxes with an exasperated sigh.

The cold cases get dropped as usual, as the mental detectives find comfort in the mental donuts of memes. Why worry about that which supersedes your mental strength?, I feel my mind whisper to itself as it wiped the sugary white dust off its mouth. I grimace and tighten my hold on the gaming controller.

The screen comes to life in a colorful glee that I gladly lose myself within the folds of that which remains unreal.

Why worry?

Poem, Thoughts

*

I. Ogunbase

I once thought my ears were ineffective.
Physically there, but lacking the the focus to hear…
hear here.
Till my eyes guided me to your face and told me to listen.
Told me to hear underneath the lines,
and the subtle phrases.

So…
Speak.
Let me listen.

———–

I once hoped my words were effective.
To shelter you, guide you and help you see clear…
Clear, here.
Till you rebuffed my advices and showed me you didn’t care.
Showed me you’d rather see for yourself,
and go through the experience.

So I revert back to where I started from.

So,
I reckon,
on that note
Keep Speaking.
I’ll keep listening.

Life, Prose, Random, Thoughts

Picture Perfect?

I. Ogunbase

The sun hangs low above in the skies across England, even though the warmth it dishes out is minimal. Minimal, in regards to the North as the cold air of the yester-nights rain hangs overhead.

It’s chilly.

Coats and Jackets brush by each other as employees bustle about, lost in their own respective worlds. Everyone gets to Work to work, but really, hoping for something else. Something different.

By the time the warmth descends, it is lunch time. The working force pushing themselves away from their desks and out back in the open, enroute the canteen and the bars selling more warmth in the form of food. The mind is joyous even as the tummy rejoices.

Its brief, moments like this. When the sun hangs at the right angle to filter it’s light through the trees branches and shower the Earth with more warmth, the wind blowing the fallen leaves into the air.

Picture perfect.

For a while.

Then the moment lasts forever. The warmth turns to heat, as the jackets and coats come off. The body pores pour out sweat in record quantities as the body laments the heat. The trees wither and die, the leaves dry up. The wind remains, stuck in the air causing the atmosphere to get stuffy. Humid.

There’s a word that comes to mind here.

Stagnant.

Like the 9-5 madness of the robotic world. Waking up, getting to work, leaving work, eating, minimal free time, sleeping. Weird order. Necessary and yet, done in the most involuntarily subconcious way possible as the mind has rationalised it into simplicity.

“You must work. To eat. To live.”

Stagnant.

As the dreams mixed and matched in kidulthood get shelved because the “big-boy” adult pants are now being worn and luxuries can’t be afforded anymore. Dreams, offset by worries. So we stay content in mediocrity. Lament at the fact that others have made it while we are stuck here being stagnant.

Sometimes…

…sometimes…

…wishing things could revert back to when they were picture perfect.

Retrospect, huh?

Life, Pain, Thoughts, thoughts

Falling.

I. Ogunbase

These last couple days have been surreal to me.

I had hoped that eventually I bounce back to some version of normality that would allow me to cope and adjust to the injustice that the world I live in seem to revel in.

I was wrong.

The rhetoric has been said, directly or indirectly, by many. It has been repeated by many, shown in movies by different characters, written in stories, drawn in comes and the reality of it all still hits true.

“The world is broken.”

As of this morning, I woke to the news that 5 police officers had been killed by armed shooters in the middle of what was supposed to be a peaceful protest. I pictured it in my head as husbands/sons/fathers leaving their houses to assist in the protest of a movement, only for the reality of the job to set in as they lay bleeding in the dark because someone, somewhere found their organisation guilty of something and decided they’d pay the price. It’s been hours since then but we mourn.

In the space of three days, 3 black men have been killed under questionable circumstances which re-directed everyone back to the reality that out there, there are numerous people who are, by default, biased against us because of the colour of our skin. Like a phone reminder so we don’t forget that we are not generally liked by the world. As almost expected, we rose up in our droves and protested, social media, physically, at the sights that we had been forced to replay over and over again, burning the images of the men bleeding out into our brain. The deaths feel too close to home. SO we mourn.

Let’s not even forget the Nigerian kill in Italy for defending his wife against a racist. (<<It’s a link… Go on and click)

In just a week, the world watched as Baghdad streamed the atrocity committed at the end of their fast. Bodies strewn around like confetti as we had to realise, once again, that life is fleeting. Families torn apart at the whims of others because they want to get an ideal across that is contrary to what is current. So the hate spreads, deeply ingrained into the hearts of man as tears roll down the faces of the afflicted. The rhetoric that a specific religion was responsible for heinous crimes, proven once more to be untrue. Our hearts fall heavily, as we mourn.

These last couple days have been surreal, so to speak.

I had hoped that eventually I return back to some version of sanity that would allow me to cope and adjust to the injustice that the world I live in seem to revel in.

I was mistaken.

As the years went by, realisation struck me in the meanest of ways, opening my eyes to notice that we, as a species, are becoming more and more divided, pulling away from one another because we want to “take our stuff back”. Our “countries”. Our “lands”. Our “money”. Our this and that, so we fight to break off in a world where we should be drawing together to fight off the evils in the darkness.

The internet is rolling as I speak, mud-slinging and tearing at each-other’s throat as the blame game is played extensively. It is always someone’s fault at the end of the day.

United we stand. Divided we fall.

…

I guess we’re still falling.

Brexit, Emotion, EU, Life, Thoughts, UK

Uncertainty

I. Ogunbase

It’s 22:26.

The day’s uncertain weather lingers, as if to mirror the emotions of the people under it’s gaze. Uncertainty. The motivation behind fear and the blood that runs deep within the body of irrationality.

Uncertainty.

The sun has hidden itself, retreated back as the world turns so that it might let us retire, and stir those at the other end to work. The night sky remains dark and blue, coolly letting those still aware in the space of reality, time to think and reflect back to their early days. For some, it’s nostalgia behind rosy tinted glasses. For others, it’s the face of stark truth staring back at them. It’s chilly. The air remains abuzz with quiet conversation in some areas, drunken livery in others. Some are drinking to quiet down their worries, others? to celebrate the victory of the day.

Uncertainty.

The youth lament at the choices being made for them, angry at the solution being presented before them. But their voices are not heard. Their voices are not going to be heard. After all, it’s not at the best interest of those who would, should, do the hearing.

The larger world watches with growing concern. The same theme remains. Uncertainty. Questions already being asked with no answer to follow. They remain ever watching with bated breaths.

In a world filled with war and darkness, blood and madness, hatred and division. We vote to divide ourselves from a union simply because we want to “take our country back”.

From whom?

Prose, Thoughts

Warm. Dark. 

I. Ogunbase

I was privileged enough to read a fictional book about sci-fi impossibilities, which was written in a way to suggest the possibilities of such occurrences. In the book, the premise was that humanity had advanced to the point where a company had engineered a tapeworm to house all the antibodies a human body will possibly ever need.

And with a single transplant, down the base of the spine of the human, they will be safe from every disease. Except, as per any horror / thriller / Science fiction, the tapeworms move from the spine to the brain, feasting it on until they take control of the body. Cue in science based zombies.

The main character of said book, “Sal”, who so happens to be a tapeworm has a coping mechanism called her “…warm, dark…”, symbolising her earliest memories of sliding up the spine of the comatose body she was placed it. The rhythmic beat of the heart, steadying her fears and alleviating her worries.

–

The ‘warm, dark’ serves as some sort of haven, shielding me from the worries of the world, as my eyes shut and my ears dim out the sound to only listen to my heartbeat.

[dum-dum]

Sheltered from the madness that infests the world, I cradle myself to normality as I try to re-adjust to the darkness that blankets the world. I failed once before, but maybe, just maybe this time round I can come out above the sin-infested sewer-hole I happen to live in.

It’s not here [gestures to environment] but here [points to mind] and here [points to heart]

The ‘warm, dark’ is solace. Solace is safe. Safe is dangerous…[Sometimes]

We are getting to the end of one thing and the beginning of something new.

Maybe Solace will represent a safe haven consistently this time…

Maybe.

Thoughts

Grey

I. Ogunbase

The Sun’s luminescence remains hidden behind the clouds in the sky.

Summer but yet, not summer.

I linger in my thoughts, choosing solace here instead of being social. My heart was not in it, so I refrain from my phone as the bus drives me and the rest of the weary passengers home. It had been a long day, not by fault of work, but more the happenstance of beginning the day later than expected.

A sigh escapes me as I close my eyes to dream of what may be and what is.

Formless.

I remain in this state of apparent darkness as my body’s fatigue had directed all my mental focus to ensuring it rests properly. Whatever was left took care of the normal body functions, giving no thought to the fact that it’s owner wanted to dream of fantastical things and wondrous opportunities.

I drift back out into the grey to monitor the progress of my journey home. Red light. Still minutes away. My silence maintains itself as my hand had confiscated my phone and placed it within the confines of my inner leather jacket. I’d scream for injustice because everyone else seemed to be glued to theirs but then I don’t care. The world’s focus has been so lustfully drawn by the electronic age that the good things in life, the normal things in time, have been lost.

The countryside that used to hold so much allure had lost its beauty crown to the newest gadget in town. The rapid expansion of numerous social networking applications severely cutting into the intimacy of conversing face to face. A phone message would rather be sent than actually planning to meet and bask in the presence of family, friends and colleagues alike.

And in the event that plans were made, and friends were met, the little 4-5 inch+ gadget still dominates the night as ‘Selfies’, ‘Tweets’ and ‘Instagram’ post become a reality.

Maybe I’m just being nostalgic…

Being born in the 90s has put me (and the rest of my ‘brood’) at the mercy of so much technological advancement that we can’t help but find ourselves reminiscing every now and then about when things were simple.

Because things are not that simple anymore.

 

Coping System, Emotion, Life, Pain, Poem, Thoughts

Little Miss 21

I. Ogunbase

Hello Ms 21.

Look at you all grown…

It’s funny how, over the years I’ve,
raged, argued and butted heads against your stubbornness.

Because, goodness me, are you difficult.
But I love you, nonetheless.

It’s funny how, you’ve brought me joy and sorrow,
tears and laughter,
fights and fun fights…

I mean, we have had our share of childish antics,
and we’ll probably have more crazy fun,
especially now that you’re grown.

“Little Ms 21” is now an adult,
ready to take the world by storm.

[Laughs]

Happy Birthday, Girl…

—–

I miss you, Ms 21.

Thinking of you, all grown…

It’s funny how I think, over the years we would have
raged, argued and butted heads against your stubbornness.

Because, goodness me, were you difficult.
But it made me love you all the more.

It’s funny how, you brought me joy and sorrow,
tears and laughter,
fights and fun fights…

We had our childish antics back when we were young,
but that was a long time ago,
when you were still here…
and now you are gone…

“Little Ms 21” would be an adult now,
ready to take the world by storm.

[Sighs]

Happy Birthday, Lil Sis.

Thoughts

Pets and African Peeves

I. Ogunbase

So like if you know me, like as in know me even by a bit, you will know how much I detest being ‘late’.

I am not sure when the feeling became a thing, but for as long as I can remember, lateness is a habit that really, really grates on me. I can’t stand it. I can’t condone it. Especially being raised in a continent currently famous for being so late, we have our own timezone abbreviation; African Timing (AT).

———————–

So “What is African timing?”, I hear some of the cogs in your minds ask.

Well, African timing, is the time by which Africans actually attend an event.

“That’s not so bad…”

Well, no. It is horrible. See we don’t attend the event by the time set by the organiser. To be honest, I think we have become ‘too cool’ to do that, so instead we arrive +1/+2 hours after the event has actually started.

“I don’t get it”

Err… Say an event begins at 7pm GMT sharp. African timing dictates the party begins (if we had the +/-2 AT) at 9pm. Everyone else is just unnaturally early.

“…but the party started at 7pm…”

No. You say 7pm but you really mean 9pm.

“So you say if I organise a party, and put the start time to 7pm… Then the Africans will be there for…”

9pm.

“Wow.”

Yup.

“But that’s horrible.”

Hey!!! That is what I said!
———————–

Ignoring the slightly humorous conversation above, I really do hate lateness. I find it to connote a lot of things I am not comfortable with. Personally, lateness to me is a sense/sign of irresponsibility.

And as such, when I find myself late to work/party/event regardless of circumstance, I get visibly frustrated (briefly more often than not) because I feel like I’ve let my manager/friend/organiser down.

So I work on it. I try to eliminate possibilities of that happening.

“What’s the point of this post then?”

None. I just wanted to rant about a pet peeve. Don’t you have one too?