I was listening properly to a song on David Guetta’s ‘Listen’ album. You know how you might hear a song but never really hear it. Well that day, I heard it. The song is Lift Me Up.
We’ve all got our struggles and are just trying to make it home. Some people seem to have their shit figured out, but even then, I’m sure they’ve still got demons to fight. Some people are just better at hiding their demons than others.
I’m often saying how we need to be tolerant of each other, how we need to learn to lift each other up because we are different but still fundamentally the same. It’s beginning to sound like an old tune but I don’t think things can be better with us at each other’s throats, looking for ways to put each other down and undermine our accomplishments and struggles. If you’ve got nothing good to say, then don’t say anything. And if you feel you must point something out, then maybe do it as nicely as possible. Don’t let it seem like the other person didn’t do anything tangible.
Words are very powerful. You don’t know what they are doing to who it’s directed at, whether thick-skinned or not. Words of encouragement and constructive criticism can go a long way into helping a person rise to be the person that they ought to be. Maybe because as gay people, we feel the need to be self-sufficient since the world is fundamentally against us, but couldn’t we ease off some of the tension by being our fellow gay brother’s keeper.
Anyway, I’m not sure how necessary this is. But I’d like to apologize to Teflondon for telling him to quit acting like a lil bitch. Honestly Teflondon, you annoy the fuck out of me most times, but that’s mostly because your apparent way of thinking is quite bizarre to me. And sure, you’re very entitled to think my journal entries are boring (Heck, I even read it sometimes before sending it in and wonder why anyone reads sef. Lol). I was not going to even reply the comment till you started talking about how it’s a fact, and my mood soured and I decided to say something a bit nasty. I’m not sure what you’re so afraid of that you ‘seem’ quite desperate to stand out. But whatever, it’s your life. I don’t know you or where you’re coming from in life, and you’re entitled to act the way you want.
Just maybe a bit if advice though… You don’t seem to know how to phrase your thoughts very well. After typing a comment, go back and read just to make sure you don’t unnecessarily ruffle feathers. Maybe correct the spell-check mistakes your phone loves to make too.
Life’s been a bit wonky recently. I had my ex over for Easter and he brought someone with him. I told him I didn’t mind. And honestly, I thought I didn’t. Then he got really cozy with his friend and I found myself pressing down little bits of jealousy. The worst however was the nostalgia.
I’m not interested in getting back with him. In my opinion, he deserves someone better than me. But there’s something about the familiar that I always want back. And the first night he was around, when I couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t too, we talked for an awfully long time and it was really nice. He’s a great cook. I love his food, especially his pasta. And he loves to cook. I hope he turns his passion into something that brings money. I remember when he’d surprise me with breakfast in bed. I’d be snoring away and then he’d wake me up to a tray full of sliced bread, fried eggs, sausages, baked beans and a nice tall glass of orange juice.
Anyway, my aim for inviting him over was his hard drive, so I could get some movies. But I didn’t even get the movies in the end. However, we’ve managed to reconnect and at least are now better friends. He’s the kind of person you’d want in your life – funny, energetic, very witty, with a sharp tongue. He’s fabulous and though he’d love to change a few things about the way he looks, he’s quite content in his own skin. He also reminds me that in the end it’s my personality that attracts people to me and makes them stay. Not the way I look. Have a great personality and people will come to you for the right reasons.
Growing up is hard. You have to strike a balance between taking life seriously and being carefree about the next day. You need to find the right things to believe in and you sort of want to make sure you don’t have regrets when you’re older.
This generation of youngsters is all shades of awesome and sometimes I wonder if I’ll get left behind. We’ve got overachievers and super-talented people and the very disciplined ones, and I just sit down and think, “I can write but not as good as this person… Okay, I can draw but it’s mostly abstract and is that even really art? Real life drawing like my friend DKesi’s art… Not those squiggly lines of feelings I do… I can sing but then there’s a 19 year old boy hitting notes I can’t dream of hitting in my life time…”
And in all of these, I’ve come to realise I’m comparing myself to other people. I’m not sure where the habit comes from, but I’m doing it and I need to stop and always remember that I can only be the best when I’m being me. So even if I can’t write like that person, at least I can write and convey what I’m thinking/feeling to others. I might not be able to hit notes like I’d like to, but all the songs I’ve sent to people that they like involve me singing with emotion and not chilling with a goose-pimple-giving voice. My imagination is vivid and exists out of the realm of reality, so I’ll draw my abstract art and proudly hang it on the wall.
Some people have called children a legacy. In the loose sense of the word, they are. They are something you leave behind after you’re gone to the great beyond. But then again I think people are putting quite a lot of – what’s the word sef… Uurgh! Pinkkyyy!
For example, someone said the fact that Martin Luther king’s kids didn’t have children means his legacy would die.
Excuse you! Martin Luther King’s legacy will never die! Wanna know why? Because his legacy is what he did for the Black community, not the fact that he had kids. Fuck! I didn’t even know he had kids till then. And here’s another thing – Martin’s father? We don’t know who he is, even though he’s the father of an exceptional man. My point? It’s not the children you leave behind that will immortalize your name. It’s what you’ve done. That’s your legacy. Even if it’s because of Martin’s father Martin became who he is, it still doesn’t make Martin the father’s legacy. It’s the value he imputed into his son that is his legacy.
So, those who are ever so anxious to have kids to pass on the family name or to leave something behind, I think you probably need to do something else more long-standing, because in the end, nobody will remember you even if your kid did something amazing. If you’re intelligent, don’t have children just so you can pass on your intelligence, thinking you’ve created a legacy. Do something exceptional with your intelligence or beauty or whatever it is you’ve got. Have kids for the right reasons and that’s so that you can love and support them. Who knows, maybe in a bid to have a legacy, you won’t let the kids be themselves.
Someone recently told me you might as well fuck a guy without a condom after rimming him. He gave the analogy of touching shit with your hand, but saying “thank goodness I didn’t step on it”. I was very surprised.
I promptly told him not to think that, that rimming is simply one of the most low risk sexual activities, especially since you won’t go vampire on his ass or something. And that a condom should always be used. Rimming can transmit HIV, but so can kissing and penetration sex. The only difference is that one has higher risk that the other.
I sure as hell hope, for his sake, he hasn’t been using that as an excuse to have unprotected sex.
As the conversation between me and him progressed, I came to realise he is bisexual, and each time I tried to move the conversation towards gay related issues, he’d tell me about girls with ass and all that. And I was amused. He knows I’m gay. Not Bi. Gay. So what was his deal? I sure as hell am not so interested in a woman’s cakes. I told him this quite politely, making sure he knew that I knew he wasn’t very comfortable with the gay part of him. I’m not in the mood to help anyone accept any part of themselves, so I might make him disappear from my contact list, which is steadily building up. I’m losing track of conversations and confusing names, so a bit of spring cleaning in my contact list should be in order. All the potential Lekki hookups will be deleted. I’ve even gotten rid of the grindr app. I’m back in school, so no use for it.
I’ve lost a portable speaker of mine. The loss is devastating. I used my money to buy it while I waited with bated breath for mum to bring it from her travels. And now it’s gone. I left it in my room and spent the night at a friend’s and the next evening, I started to look for it to use to play some loud music, and it wasn’t where I remembered putting it. I doubt it could have been stolen. There was no sign of forced entry into my room, and even then, some money I carelessly placed in the room was still intact. It’s driving me crazy not knowing what happened to it, and the fact that it could be gathering dust somewhere in my room. Urgh!
Written by James