You Can’t Save Them All

scared-black-manYou can’t save them all. It’s not for a lack of trying, because you actually do try. You try to be a good friend. You try to always be there, to let them know that it’s going to be alright.

But in the end, you can’t save them all.

The world is filled with many broken hearts, filled with many people going through unbearable emotional pain. And you try to fix them. You’ve gone through heartbreak, you’ve had your share of emotion-crushing depression and you always believe you can relate. You have that belief that if you could just reach out to them all, you’ll be making a difference in their lives.

But you can’t save them all. Continue reading

THE DARK CLOUD

singles 20It feels like I’m about to die, with a tight chest and an aching back. I struggle to turn my limp body to the side to catch my breath. I open my heavily-laden bloodshot eyes and reach for my phone in the overwhelming darkness. After several failed attempts, I manage to grasp it, and I press the power button, which sends out a dazzling flash of LCD screen light that burns my retina. I narrow my eyes against the sudden burst of light, as my pupils adjust to the sudden change in illumination. I struggle to make out the time from the screen. It is 3am. I let out a sigh of disappointment.

“I thought it was over, the night.”

That part of the day when most people sleep and relax their minds was the time I spent fighting demons.

Before you start screaming ‘Supernatural’, it’s not the demon you think. This demon doesn’t come, a grotesquerie of black robes, fang-like teeth, tapering claws and dark wings. It comes as your deepest and darkest fears, insecurities mashed up to make a perfect cocktail of anger, agony, sorrow, self-pity and despair. This demon has a name, and it’s called depression.

The first time I ever heard of depression, I thought it was some sort of mental illness for sad, old, white men and withered spinsters. I thought it was one of those words coined to give a name to something that is mostly irrelevant, something which had no effect on the general population.

How wrong I was. Continue reading

SUITS AND TIES (Part 4)

Blog_Suits & TiesClick HERE TO READ SUITS AND TIES PART 3

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The whole world goes on and on about love. Poets spend their lives writing about it. Everyone thinks it’s the most wonderful thing. But when you mention two guys in love, they forget all that and freak out.

Mark A. Roeder said that, and my co-workers are a classic example of a people who freak out when the contemplation of gay people becomes an issue at work. They don’t go bat-shit crazy. They simply spout lots of vitriol, most of it fed by their ignorance and blind loathing.

Sick, cursed, possessed by demonic spirits…

How can a normal person put his thing inside someone else’s ass…

Useless people, going about bribing famous people to say they’re gay…

Yes. It’s incredible, but my co-workers actually believe that part of the LGBT activism is to pay celebrities an unspecified amount of money, or cut deals with them, so that they can claim to be out and proud in order to influence the public to accept or tolerate homosexuality. One of my female colleagues claims to still be heartbroken over and disbelieving of Wentworth Miller’s coming out. To her, the Prison Break star is just too good-looking not to fancy women. Apparently, the gay movement is either highly manipulative or quite influential enough to convince ‘heterosexual’ celebrities to take on the risk of faking their gayness for our cause. Continue reading

CHRISTMAS MORNING

christmas-morning-1wbatvfdSanta called to ask if I’m OK

He said the winter love is spreading everywhere.

I know your little sister was just brought to the hospital again.

And your mum just called that your uncle died at the early morn.

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Santa called to ask if I’m OK

He said, I see you every night sobbing in your sleep.

I know this year like every other has been a sad steep.

And I see you dropping visine to conceal those red eyes. Continue reading

HIS COMING OUT STORY

coming-out-of-the-closetFear. The underlying theme of my coming out story is fear. Fear of being discovered. Fear of being rejected. Fear of being unloved. Fear of hurting the people I love. Fear of facing my fears head-on, and then as a result, the fear of what would happen if I did.

I have always known I was different – gay – as early I can remember. From childhood, I have always been reserved, always playing with my drawing book and crayons (thank God for drawing skills). I remember my folks always asking me to go out and play and I’d sneak to the backyard instead; I was afraid that if I went out, “they” will find out. Nasty things happened as a result of that. Terrible thoughts, insomnia, suicide attempts, a nasty attitude and worst of all, I was afraid of myself. I felt like a mistake. Prayers were not working; the only thing working for me throughout secondary school was depression.

I got diagnosed with bipolar depression, and started taking some anti depression pills. And most times, I’ll OD on them with the hope that it will end my suffering. But well, the universe doesn’t make such things easy. Some people are born gay and they embrace it. The jigsaw puzzle just fits perfectly. It’s a part of them and they are proud of that, no matter what the world or anyone else tells them. That’s the way it should be for everyone! Unfortunately for me, growing up gay meant feeling isolated and alone. Continue reading

JAMES’ JOURNAL (Entry 11)

Blog_KD JournalAugust 9

I’m having a moment. One of those moments where I feel like I’m bursting with so much creativity and ideas, and I can pick up a pen to write or to draw or write a short sad poem and sing. Moments like that are magical. However, I also get scared in these moments, because I know what comes after. Depression. I go back to my work and I feel like all I’ve done is crap. But until I reach that point, I’ll just enjoy this feeling for now.

I had an interesting Monday night and Tuesday morning. It was 11pm and I saw a Facebook post of my recent ex, Duke. He had said hi to me on Whatsapp a few weeks back, so I decided to return the favour. I’ve never been one to remain jolly friends with an ex but I decided to try. I honestly wish I rebuked the spirit of that urged me to say hello.

He was ecstatic to hear from me. He was in town on some engagement and wanted to know if he could stay at my place. I agreed.

Why did I agree? Maybe I did miss him a little and wanted to see if we could be friends. He did have interesting things to say sometimes. He got to my place around 11:30, and that was when the drama began. It was almost spontaneous. Continue reading

AFTER THE LAW WAS PASSED. . .

sad-black-manI read about it on Linda Ikeji’s blog. I was at work that day and I spied something about it on my friend’s Blackberry pm, and I just knew the gossip queen, Linda would have the full gist. So I checked her blog and there it was: the signage into law of a new status quo. One that had instantly turned folks like me into potential criminals and jail prospects.

As the day drew to an end, as I monitored the blogosphere and observed the virtual war that raged between the self-righteous majority of heterosexuals and the indignant minority of gay activists, I fell to the clutches of depression. The opinions were flying with rapid-fire intensity across the internet.

The sick bastards, this is what they deserve!

Judge not that you may not be judged…

Go to hell, gays! But first of all, go to jail!

If it is your brother or sister who you discover is gay nko…

This is an abuse of a minority’s human rights!

Jonathan doesn’t realize what he has done!

God help us! God help Nigeria! Continue reading