Thursday, October 1, 2020

T.Notes#56: COW (Chronicles of a wrong decision)

 I analysed the Situation,🤓

I took my Shot,🔫

Now i am Screwed.🙆‍♂️

I call this one, COW🐴


Chronicles Of a Wrong Decision🐮

This is a blog of note. It will be brief, honest and uncoded.

Exactly one year ago, i conducted a careful long term analysis of my career prospects. It was honestly going great but the prospects for future pay increases was starting to flatten, which is not in line with my needs. Plus i was conscious of meeting a certain salary target before a certain age.

So i whipped out my honestly impressive CV, concluded a few rounds of interviews and accepted a senior role in a bank. There was a good deal of providence involved in the whole situation, but let's leave that for now. P.S, I really like the defination of providence - protective care of God or of nature as a spiritual power.

From day one stepping into the place, I knew i was going to dislike it and that view has not really changed. I dislike the extreme notice-me politics, i dislike that there are only a handful of black people in the bank.  The WHOLE  BANK - Five black people! I dislike working till 2am everyday and being told we have not met the target.

The only thing i like is the money and the supposed prestige. My linkedin community think i am a big deal but that is so far from the truth. It is a title and it sounds great yes, but the reality beneath the title is a hot mess. I have learnt not to covert anybody's life because you don't know their discontent. I am also thankful for working from home since covid broke out. It has lessened my migraines.

I started feeling boxed into a corner. I hate feeling cornered and i extremely loathe office politics which indicated that i might not do so well here. Born nigerian, i am not wired that way - we are either direct to the point, to your face or there is nothing to say. So less that one year in role, i whipped out that CV again which suddenly did not look impressive anymore. Infact it looked pretty desperate in my opinion. Why do you want to leave your current role less than one year in? Oh, i realised it was a COW decision.🤷‍♂️

It got crazy to the extent that i'd accept any job, even a junior role- just get me out of this place fast! However this time, we are in the middle of a freak pandemic; everyone is looking for a job, so the prospects for me was never going to be good. So after twenty rounds of desperate interviews, nobody was convinced about my blagging on why i will not jump ship again. 

So here we are and I'd love for this story to have a happy ending, but it does not. Sometimes life does not have happy endings or maybe i am simply in that 'in-between' part of the story before it all makes sense. At the moment it does not and my middle name feels like COW. I realise i should be thankful, yes i know that. But there is a certain type of internal turmoil that exceeds explanation or spiritualising. You can't fake happiness.

You know that narrative about how Noah entered this big ole boat and God shut the door, literaly boxing him in - that is how it feels. Shut in with the wolves, snakes and crazy monkeys. I used to imagine if Noah could have opened that door himself to bail out at some point, because it seems like i surely can't in my case. Besides, someone once said 'who the Lord has blessed, no man can curse.' So the reverse is quite likely to be true. An gross exaggeration but you get the point.

So where i am now, you ask? I know that my discontent has given alarming free reins to my excessivess. I am also writing motivational quotes and praying everyday to maintain my sanity. And i stay active like the rest of us professional liars on linkedin. I do believe that all things work together for good. I also know that when we become mere men backed into a corner, you have no choice but the knuckle up and fight. This is what i feel like we are all doing - literally scrambling like rats for the bigger pay cheque. It is not the way to live a life but C'est la vie.

In closing, words can save lives.

Here are some fine words by Kike Oniwinde

Which totally made sense to me:

There is beauty in discomfort,

There is beauty in the process,

There is discomfort in creating comfort.

Remember that,

This is bigger than just you.

Friday, August 28, 2020

T.Notes#55: August (All i've got)

Last night we masked our emotions

under the pouring rain,

as it finally dawned on us

That we are never going to be different.

I pleaded to know how you felt

But you drowned out my piety,

With red wine and that bitter sweet

Leandria Johnson song,

All i got.

Maybe wild souls were never made to be tamed,

Created by design

To amuse the heavens

With their wild wanderings and errors.

Do you remember when we raised our fists to the heavens

And made honest threats to God?

We swore that if he ruinned us

He'd pay dearly for our agony.

God bless our foolish souls

I saw you naked the first time in three years

Alone in a boutique london hotel.

We spoke honestly about our imperfections

About private flaws that only heaven and ourselves know about.

So here we are,

with our mastered theater of external perfection

Whilst grappling inside with

a fckd up mind, failing health

And burnt out spirits buckling under the weight of trying to rise above the impossible.

I guess what i am trying to say is,

I have been trying to get these words,

These narratives entirely flawless for You.

Here they are now

Thirty-something years late and just as flawed as when we first began.

I think...

I think these words are ready now

I think i am ready now.

Where do we go from here?

God knows we can't fall any harder.

And the vessel that he made of clay

was marred in the hand of the potter;

so he made it again into another vessel,

as it seemed good to the potter to make.

Jeremiah 18:4

Written to a late night

background of

Leandria Johnson,

All i got.

These are my T.Notes

Friday, July 24, 2020

T.Notes#54: Taming the Shrew

When something goes wrong,
My default response is to throw a tantrum,
blame God and make rash decisions.
I am working at it.
I want to be like Obama
Unfrazzled, calculated and smooth.
But my blood pressure is like a reckless danfo driver.

A Nigerian military regiment
invaded the Newyork stock exchange.
They marched to my desk wielding big guns,
gave a smart salute and announced to the surprise of all my collegues,
That my father, the president had sent a chopper to get me home urgently.
Aye, put a respect on my name!
All hail the chief!

I expect God to be my commando warrior
To keep all these madness far from me
Bless me only with beach holidays and margaritas.
Is that even a biblical doctrine?
Instead it seems like heaven is on a long holiday.
Sending me postcards from the Bahamas
Talking about learning to trust in God
Whilst the world and my mind is gone bonkers.

When i finally became a man
I realised how lonely the masculine experience actually is.
It is not good for man to be alone
In his mind or space.
The problem is, men don't talk.
We work, worry, grunt, drink beer and play with adult toys.
Anything to escape that five minutes of painful introspection.
So we trade precious time for five minutes of wonder.
I think men need God more than we realise.

Do you remember that quiet night,
You noticed the neighbour's curtains slightly open.
Curious, you turned off your own lights,
Peered closer and discovered wonder.
This is how i feel about a good blog.
A gentle unrestrained access into an untamed mind.
I need a good blog
One that does not indulge me.

I love when you surrender your mind to a diary
Like a child discovering watercolor in a kindergarteen art class.
And then you become the audience
of your own wild thoughts.
Like lighting a blunt on a lazy saturday,
Fireflies playing on the radio,
And a local girl weaving your afro into bantu knots.

This post is about learning to find quiet.
There is a charming restaurant in the Philippines
It is called "Van Gogh is bipolar'
It welcomes clients to celebrate their imperfections, embrace their flaws,
And light a path to discovering wholeness.
I still haven't found what i'm looking for.
I'm still searching.
I will be found by You.

These ideas are like tiny birds flutterring above my head.
Ignored till they become like pesky badgering woodpeckers.
The penny finally dropped.
I think too much.
I analyse everything,
I worry excessively.
Someone said I simply need to turn off my brain sometimes.
Be still my soul.
But first, let me worry about what i'd do with the silence.

I spent last night memorising famous shakesphere quotes, listening to @BessObarotimi,
And analysing stock market activity
All so i appear wildly intelligent for a client engagement in the morning.
You have brought me to this place
So i look up to you to sustain me
I trust you to sustain me
You lift my head.
My scraggly bantu braided knotty head.

This post is about writing postcards to Jesus
I have a few concerns.
A widowed mother with a failing health,
Mortgages in an economic recession,
Playing russian roulette with a raging pandemic,
And heavy obligations of career decisions.
It is difficult not to worry.
it is tough trying to be like Obama.

These are my T.Notes.

Wednesday, July 8, 2020

T.Notes#53: Till i see you

My name is T.Notes
I still like good old fashioned
Anonymous blogs
And the quirky people
You meet through them.

I have a reckless obsession
For fine words
Delicately pieced together
To exhibit the wonder of a naked soul.
Can i walk with you.

To those of us who journey
I hope that you find a place of rest
In your wild places.
Away from the unfaithful mob of your own self and life's treachery.
A respite from the tyranny of our wandering minds.
Do you also find beauty in Jeremiah nine?

Sometimes a simple word
Gathers itself gently off the pages of the bible,
Creeps into my soul,
Finds home in an unattended hollow space,
And starts to bud.🌹
Don't leave me.

Some people remind you
In a summery holiday sort of way
That boys still like girls
And girls still fancy boys
In an uncomplicated sort of way
Like velvet chocolates and cocoabutterskin.
This too, is fine.

Somedays there is this deep sense of utter nothingness
It is irrespective of my devotion.
So i steady my heart
Into the refrain of old untiring songs
You are too good to me, Audrey Assad

The control freak in me find it utterly frustrating
That you simply cannot predict life
Some days will knock you off your carefully laid out plans.
In the end we must all bow to acknowledge something...or someone...

Mama said good girls don't twerk
And good boys do away with
A pornographic worldview.
Ode to those of us who journey
Breaking sweat and nails to ascent into a dreamy City on a hill

I guess what i'm trying to say is
I'm not sure how you can ache for something
That you don't fully understand
Or hope for a redemption that you cannot see.
But here we are, waiting till i see You.

Wednesday, June 24, 2020

T.Notes#52: Somewhere in between Prose and Subtlety

My most honest prayers
Are not the ones i ramble in desperation.
Instead it is in these carefully crafted words,
Soulful truths
Nested inbetween prose and subtlety
I hope God reads my blog.

I have been trying to organise this page,
This life...
To determine a singular purpose
A contribution of sorts to humanity
What is your blog about? I dunno.
Untidy memoirs of a beautiful mind
From a deeply flawed man
Who could tell.

Once on a lazy breezy wednesday
I vividly remembered being groped as a child
By an older female neighbour
At first it was uncomfortable
That is as far as most men will tell.
I like my toast slightly burnt
With a drizzle of cheese.

I try to refrain from obscenities when i read the bible.
So instead i try to speak in tongues.
Curse words is what happens
After language has failed to articulate the depth of our emotions
The harvest is past,
The summer is ended,
And we are not yet saved.

You were over there,
I was over here.
Beautifully creative minds
betrayed by these bodies.
Unattended desires
Buried beneath white cotton sheets.
Like a fleeting daydream,
We was here.

Somedays I want to take a long break
From myself, and the consequences of this incessantly wondering mind.
Last night i walked with a slouch
Then a barely audible whisper suggested,
Don't you dare give up!
Hold your head up!

I guess what i am trying to say is
I want to pray tonight,
I ought to pray tonight.
But everytime i begin to,
I see myself.
I know myself.
And this is why the gospel is beautiful.

Saturday, May 23, 2020

T.Notes#51: Waiting to exhale

I shared a virtual beer with the boys last night.
We spoke about deep-seated worries and unattended fantasies
Then the ardent atheist amongst us asked if someone would pray.

For sleepless men who stayed up alone,
To keep vigil over a tidy pile of household bills and stress medications,
Whilst glued to watching continued fallouts of a pandemic beyond our control.

Men who'd forgotten how to exhale,
Instead literally holding our breath daily,
Waiting for anything that resembles good news to calm our nerves.

We spoke about sensual distractions whilst waiting for God.
I heard that every man secretly wishes his woman were a little bit sluttier
With wiles to command the attention of gods and kings whenever she rose regally to her knees.

My neighbour will be pregnant soon.
I often wonder if to remind her that the walls are paper thin at night
Or if to give her a thumbs-up for the quality feedback she gives to the good man.

The realities of sex after marriage
Hit most men like a ton of bricks
We eventually all learn the art of subtle negotiation
And how to caress a midnight can of beer.

But shit is fuxkfd up still.
Kay has been a dutiful barber for twenty years
Until his account went into overdraft yesterday
As social distancing rules crumbled his modest empire.

They say God helps those who cannot help themselves.
I never really accepted this.
Afterall our super power lies in fixing things
Until these days of feeling like grounded super heroes
Powerless to affect any of our preferred outcomes.

They say men have been conditioned from childhood to mask our emotions
To live a life of half-truths and deception.
This is manhood
A fine mess of best intentions and depravity
It is complicated.

There once was a King who lived at the edge of madness.
When his demons came to play,
he'd hurriedly call on a young lad to play gentle music to calm his soul.

Last night i dusted off an old album,
Caressed a cold can of beer and said a sincere prayer
To the tune of Fred Hammond.

God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in times of trouble.
This is manhood.
These are my T.Notes.


Tuesday, May 12, 2020

T.Notes#50: Knowing

I asked how they met.
She blushed and admitted
that he'd sent her a direct message,
asking the color of her underwear.

My mind is a whirlwind these days.
I am doing everything to distract my compulsive thoughts
Because I know I am not coping.

I know
That i have f***ed this up
So here we are
In this place, waiting for redemption

How do you manage that deep sickening feeling of regretful decisions?