Posts

Emotion, Life, Poem

Scare Tactics

I. Ogunbase

I notice when you creep ahead of me,
Your silent boots,
Not so silent
The dark shadows at the edges,
The creaking floorboards,
The whinging door frames…

I know what you plan,
As sure as you know what my reaction will be.
We’ve played this back and forth relentlessly

You, jumping in front me yelling “Boo”,
Me, debating whether or not I push past the fear and bring the dream to life.

I’ll have to admit to the countless times I turned round and betrayed myself.
Bought into your doubt and told myself I couldn’t make it.
I had watched you take credit for it then, parading the failed carcass of my goals to your colleagues.
I watched ashamed,
honestly,
broken by the realisation that you had blocked my forward movement, and left me with the backwards conveyor belt.

But that was then. This is now.

I can notice you creeping ahead of me,
Your silent boots,
Not so silent,
The creaking floorboards
And your silent whispers

I know what you plan,
As sure as you know what my reaction will be.
As we’ve played this back and forth relentlessly

I’ll be moving ahead this time though…
You’re not killing this light I’m holding in my hands.

I’ll be moving on ahead this time…
We’ll revisit this game,
next time I’m around

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.

Prose

Out The Window

I. Ogunbase

​The sun shone through the slightly tinted windows, painting the polished table with a slightly red glow. Against the rose flower vases that garnished the table, it looked royal. Esteemed. It was 5:45pm on a Friday. The work week had ended and all that was left was for an enjoyable weekend. Or so would be the thoughts of the people walking outside the window.

Annemarie glanced at her phone temporarily as she wiggled slightly on the stool she was seated on. The restaurant had been billed as being ‘earthy’ by the numerous reviews online, which had translated to wooden stools, low tables, flower vases and pots as well as the soft smell of lavender.

Her phone remained on standby, devoid of the blinking light she was already hoping to expect. After all, she had told everyone the time for the meet. As well as the place.

It had been months since she saw them all last and in the interest of keeping in touch, she had made a messaging group with everyone for the sole purpose of being able to do this. To go out for dinners occasionally.

Her university friends had been a strong and positive part of her life and Annemarie couldn’t bear the thought and effort of making new ones.

They weren’t perfect, however. They had all missed the last two meetings she had set previously. But she couldn’t blame them. Urgency is something life is known for. It’s not every day you can control who gets hit by a car speeding down a residential street. Though, they hadn’t told her till she called them, hours after waiting at the club located in a different city.

She had found it suspicious when they told her she didn’t need to visit. Even though she insisted and they countered that it wasn’t that big a deal. It had almost turned to an argument so she had dropped it.

The sun began to set, the previously bright skies turning light purple. The red glow on the tables and vases had transformed to a light purple. To her surprise, the flowers seemed to almost light up. Annemarie couldn’t help but smile. It really was a beautiful restaurant.

She glanced at her watch. 6:39pm.

She stood to stretch, getting the attention of one of the attendants. She ordered some red wine and returned back to looking out the window.

She wondered what new developments had occurred in her friends lives. She couldn’t even wait to relate the tale of how she had been promoted in her place of work. After slaving for months, she had finally achieved managerial status.

She smiled wider, turning only to accept the wine glass the waiter had returned with. She took a sip, relishing the taste of grapefruit that blessed her taste glands.

She couldn’t wait to celebrate her success with her friends and toast to new ones together.

It was one of the few things she had dreamed and hoped for. To be able to celebrate successes with them. Or failures. Anything really. As far as she was concerned, they were family, tied together by the hours spent in the library and in their residential houses, with all the shared secrets and boy troubles.

All those days of study and stress were finally beginning to pay off. And she couldn’t contain her excitement.

————

Annemarie took the receipt from the waiter and exited the restaurant, pulling her jacket tighter as the outside chill washed over her.

The moon’s gaze hung in the sky, it’s pale bluish light illuminating the night. She walked briskly to her car, sticking to public spaces as much as she could, to avoid being caught unawares by any creep.

As soon as she was in her car, she took a deep breath and deposited her belongings in the seat next to her. Annemarie dabbed at the corners of her eyes and sighed.

It was now 11:48pm.

Checking her phone, she confirmed she hadn’t gotten any reply from any of them. She nodded and let out a shaky breath, ignoring the tears rolling down her face. Navigating to the group’s setting, she opted to leave the group. After which she deleted the app from her phone.

They had made her set the date and the reservation and all. But that’s always when they forget to show up. They’d be really sorry, and apologize and cite reasons to why they forgot. It would be genuine but she knew she was done. She couldn’t handle the embarrassment anymore.

She didn’t need them to have fun by herself. However, it’s hard to save face sitting on a reserved table for hours on end. She was done.

But it was alright. Life would go on.

Annemarie put the car into ignition and exited the car park, heading home.

It was alright. Life will go on.

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?

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?