Tuesday, December 13, 2016

T.Notes #18: Your every desire and more

Probably the most troubling thing (for me) about living in the West, is the simple fact that every imaginable desire is within reach - with a price tag. So, as far as your mind can imagine, you can have it - literally knocking on your door by evening.

Sunday, July 31, 2016

T.Notes #17: Edit - 360 randoms or not

Last night, we found a local banku joint and allowed the day idle away until the canteens closed shops and the kitchen stewards exchanged their utensils for stilettoes and flavored condoms - offering untold delights to our eager white tourists. We said, may life not force you to lose faith in simple things like...hope and a God of justice.

And heaven pardon those intoxicated nights of reggae dancehall and konshens - with cheap alcohol damning every typical boundary of decency. Skin, sweat and inhibited sexuality of total strangers mangled into each other. The local choir next door reminding us that we were bruking off our souls closer to damnation. Those days we'd go any lengths just to feel alive - as if holding our own lives by its cuffs and acting out just to get heaven's attention.

Truths. This year has been rough, I'm still trying to make sense of it all. Thanks to everyone who checked up. We lost a dear friend recently. I watched her literally ebb away despite every effort and every urgent prayer for mercy. I do not get God. And whilst I've been saying all the right words to everyone else, the truth is that s*&'s really fu&*ed me up. The extent of the damage runs deep. May life not leave a bitter taste in your mouth.

On a lighter note to the blokes. If you are blessed with large size equipments, then please don't join the skinny jeans parade...just don't. The reasons for this are obvious, lest i say more than is necessary. Blog rounds in a bit! But drop a hello below and let's catchup folks - It's been a bit of long minute.

But nevertheless, when I awake, I am still with you.

Tnotes blog

Saturday, April 30, 2016

T.Notes #16: About missing you....

The thing about death is that stark reality that the person is...gone.
You will not hear her voice again,
You will search for his face in the crowd and will never find it.
There's just that emptiness, a nothingness in the space that your departed used to occupy.
You want to grief for the rest of eternity,
but you know that will not do justice to a person who fully embraced life and laughter.

So this is me alternating all over places of very brief laughter and a constantly gnawing ache,
desperately searching for answers that will never come.
I have set out and understood a lot about life,
But this one, stumps me completely.
They say time heals, but God forbid that i forget all that you are.
So this here, is an imperfect note.....
That one person who's made me all the man that i am today.

Nothing comes from nothing,
Nothing ever could
For here you are, standing there, loving me
Whether or not you should
So somewhere in my youth or childhood
I must have done something good.....Something good.

About missing you......

Sunday, April 3, 2016

T.Notes #15: About the neighbours....

My night was cut short by 4am because my neighbour was busy.

It wasn't so much her activities but the intensity of the whole thing. It was loud and rough and she was screaming and cursing amidst the intermittent palms on cheek insolence.

She is such a decent professional girl during the day but the things she was saying was 100% nasty. Yes everybody appreciates good feedback but, words like...*&^$#..are just a little bit OTT.

The problem now is this morning,  I am quietly trying to enjoy a Sunday morning breakfast but I can still hear all those cursewords ringing loud in my head. And tommorow morning we will meet briefly in the garage spaces on the way to work and i'm not sure if to remind her that the walls are really thin especially at night.....or to give her a thumbs up for her quality feedback.

Blog round and comments in a bit. Trust you guys are all good...Let's catchup, it's been a minute.

Sunday, January 17, 2016

T.Notes #14: Things that make you scream

The car is stuck in the garage. It's funny how that could be coded-talk representing any other matter....but no, the car is really stuck in the garage.

The car is stuck in the garage on a sunday night. The gates will not open and it won't close either.  Which means monday morning may not be easy. I will not be able to get to work. Instead I'll spend the morning calling up garage repair people, who will turn up with expensive equipments and cheerfully present a heart wrenching invoice at the end of the whole thing.

I want to scream. I want to call everyone and moan about how the car is stuck in the garage and it's driving me crazy. About how I wasted a precious two hours breaking my back trying to force the thing open....and...and everything is expensive enough in this place without having to think of paying to get a car out of a garage! A garage is supposed to be simple for heaven's sake! Build normal garage, noooo! They have to make everything fancy so that you have no clue what to do when it gets broken.

I have a very very unfriendly bill to sort out this month, and now the car is stuck in the garage. The car is stuck in the garage and i want to scream!

#WhyEvils #FMLs

Friday, December 4, 2015

T.Notes #13: What she said...(Ghanaian love)

Wondering how come nobody told me about the magic in Gold coast waters...
About how our west african sisters got soul in their lips and hips...
even though I don't even know half of what she's said!

This here is my virgin discovery of ghanaian soul music.
And how they remind me of that good quality African music, funked up like Omawumi and then mixed up with some Seyi Shay...

I only heard of Becca after that one song with M.I Abaga...
But that was all i knew, until i stumbled on Efya, and Mzvee and....that's it..i'm packing off to Ghana, no jokes!

Dentaa, i cannot believe you!

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

T.Notes #12: Milestones for the broken hearted

Who are we deceiving, these are not good times.

There’s a certain release that comes from taking a literal pause to acknowledge your pain.
I have previously just carried on as normal, with the occasional wince.
But some day, it all comes crashing down as if reality is grabbing your neck and forcing you to acknowledge that life intends to break you.

I understood for a moment why it's called a broken heart
That jarring feeling of walking through the pages of your life and realizing that the clatter beneath every step are the million pieces of your shattered heart,
Being reduced to smitterings with every day of unmet expectations.

Sometimes the ironic and cliche is the truth - even more so for the cynic at heart,
The boys that insist to the world that they have become men,
And so God forbid that stray tear that dare trickle down the stubble of your manly beard.

I have read that hope deferred makes the heart sick - i think sick is a gross understatement of the truth.
I have heard of people who shake clinched hateful, yet faithful fists up to the heavens, and....now....now i don't judge them.

Who are we deceiving, these are not good times.
And the biggest challenge is carrying on as if everything were alright.
Afteral, it only just life.

How do you deal with "life"?