Imperfection...

What happens to a dream deferred?
Where do u draw the line between dreams and reality?
What becomes of an unspoken wish?
Is there truly anything as destiny?
How do you explain what you can't understand?

We seek answers without asking questions...
We search for love with caged hearts...
We believe in hope but fail to dream...
We dream but yet we refuse to believe...
We speak but our own words mean nothing to us...

Everyday, the battle rages inside of me...
A battle between control and surrender...
Between dreams and reality...
Perfectly masked by an ever present outward image of calmness...
A nonchalance borne out of resignation to fate...

I have done things that I am not proud of...
Spoken words that I am ashamed to repeat...
Backed down when I should have been aggressive...
Shouted when I should have kept quiet...
Simply put, I am a picture of imperfection...

My reflection stares back at me...
I am surprised by my own image...
I close my eyes and the picture is different...
Different personalities locked in one body...
A human rainbow caught in grey clouds...

2011..."To be continued"

Seasons Greetings

The year is winding down, gradually stuttering to an end. Itz been a beautiful and wonderful year for me, and eventful too! I am sitting in my office, almost everyone has gone home, listening to Coldplay & The Fray and reminiscing on the past months. How time flies...Started on a rough note but things kinda smoothened out as time went by, then there were a few bumps along the way, new additions to my life and I finally found what I had been searching for. Ah, 2010 will definitely leave alot of memories...

The things i'd always remember this yr:
1. Inception: definitely my movie of the year and my reawakening
2. cK One: Chaos
3. Camry: Tension.
4. Armani Code & Restroom Chronicles: Anticipation.
5. Victoria Secret: Discovery and the exhilaration.
6. La Fruta Prohibida: Penance and Letting Go.
7. Kyla: My Achilles heel.
8. Ottawa: Victory and Rebirth.
9. A'lima: Balance.
10. Music & Blues: Love & Surrender.

I am grateful to God for the gift of life, for my family, my wonderful friends and the numerous blessings!

Special shout out to followers of the blog, y'all rock! Seasons Greetings...

I may have one last entry before the year draws to an end...

Music & Blues

Hello everyone! I have been very happy lately despite my crazy work schedule. The source of my happiness? I'll let you in on the secret someday...It isnt simply because I am going on vacation soon, but that has to count as well... Itz been ages since I saw my family and friends, even though i call them every week, it cannot mask the fact that I miss my family dearly...the regular phone calls are the only reason why I am still sane (lol)...

Was watching VH1 soul last nite (had to take a break from my ESPN and Fox Soccer Sports routine...lol) and I rediscovered music! And last nite, I stumbled on exactly how I was going to propose! Eureka! It was so simple and breathtaking at the same time...It was a'kin to a feeling of "presque-vu"...Ah, such bliss...I even had a slight flash of my wedding website in my dreams! I know u are probably wondering why I am sounding like a bedazzled love-struck teenager (lol)...I am human!

Anyway, marriage is still 'ages' away, but trust me, i'll be prepared! I am a hopeless romantic (hush hush, men are not supposed to say such things) and also a reluctant perfectionist, so i guess i'll just keep dreaming and planning till the pieces fall in to place...

Alright, enuff of the blues...back to the abstract personality...

"The chords of the song trickled down to his ears like dewdrops on a damp spring morning..."

Al'ima

My affair with Alima started in an odd way. Heartbroken from my split with Camry, I was seeking solace in D'ware. To be frank, I had contemplated moving on to something new and the crazy thing was that a few hours before my trip to D'ware, I had almost committed myself to another. I guess life had other plans for me. I first laid eyes on Alima in Delaware...there was something different about her. Her picture was captivating, you could see the hurt tattooed on her body, hinting to a previous violent relationship. But through the hurt, she still held her head up high, and it was impossible to ignore the class and self esteem.

'Nike was the "go-to-guy". He set up the meeting, the introduction and basically made all the moves. Itz hard to tell if he fell for Alima while he was on his mission or not, some truths are better not told i guess. Either way, August was the key month, by then desperation had set in and I was exposed. She was a source of warmth when I needed it most. Every man has to take care of his lady, so I am proud to say I did spend a good sum in making her forget her past. The pride on my face after her makeover is something I'll never have the opportunity to describe... Sleek and feline, smooth and well-curved...twas impossible not to fall for her each time she smiled at me.

To be sincere, I never knew she was African! Itz funny how you spend so much time with someone and you never realize where they are from! I always thot she was Asian! Don't ask me how I got that all mixed up. She did bring it to my attention while we were in Ottawa. Riding to Ottawa with her was bliss, singing along to music and breathing in the clean air...beautiful... Looking back at my past relationships and the trail of hearts behind, I can only pray that this one lasts a little longer than the others...Fingers crossed!

Ottawa

The morning air feels pristine, garnished with the aroma of fresh pastries and freshly brewed coffee, sublime european flavour. The chill factor is incredible, purges the senses and leaves him with a clear head to think. Walking down the clean streets, snug beneath the layers of sweaters and scarves, a mumbled "bonjour" escapes his lips in greeting as he crosses path with the early morning crawlers...

The national museum is beautiful...there are no other words to describe it. Standing beneath the huge paintings, u can gradually feel the hands of time grind to a halt, and slowly u r catapulted back in to the past, till u can taste the texture of the canvas in ur senses...with my eyes closed, I could picture my scarves and sweaters slowly turning into robes...soft words whispering in the air in different languages...

Climbed to the peak of the hill...glanced down @ the city sprawled beneath me...crazy view! With my arms spread aloft, itz easy to feel weightless...the tune in my head is from "Lark Ascending"...enchanting, like a ballerina floating up to the peak of Rio...C'est la vie! The wind drags u back to reality...mercilessly, it vacuums the illusions from my head...till I am left with a gaping hole again...Ottawa

Kyla

Tis been awhile since I put pen to paper. Alot has happened lately!

Kyla was born August 20th in Pennsylvania. I had earlier planned to keep vigil while Wiggy was in labour, pushing in synch with her in my mind as she struggled to bring Kyla in to the world...Push! Push! I took short breaths as I forced my mind to concentrate on the arduous task at hand. Itz actually tough to give birth in ur mind. Unfortunately I slept off right in the middle of my virtual labor. Don't blame me, blame my hectic day @ work. I did give it my best shot though, eventually I realized that if men were entrusted with the responsibility of child-bearing, humanity would be extinct by now. Alternatively, we would have come up with a code or some machine to deliver the child whilst we are sedated. I still have not recovered from seeing one of the Kardashian sisters pull her own child right outta her vaginator on national TV...

Kyla is the most beautiful thing ever! Watching her as she lay swaddled in pink blankets, at peace in the world of infant dreamland, I felt a rush of love like never before. I glanced at Wiggy and observed the subtle transformation from a woman to motherhood. I was transformed too! I'll let you in on the new changes later.

Babysitting is one of the hardest tasks in life! Good Lawd! I have always had a huge respect for mothers, but now I am in awe of them. Their sacrifice, dedication and love is unbelievable. If you have not done so lately, take some time out to tell your mum that you love her and shower her with gifts! I don't want to wax lyrical but there is no love like a father's/mother's love.

Victoria Secret

He walked into the store brimming with confidence. Typical of the male ego, his eyes unconsciously fluttered for a brief second on his reflection on the huge glass mirrors. In his mind, there wasn't anything wrong with the action. It was more or less a reflex move, why did they put up the mirrors in the first place? With his inner-self appeased by the logical explanation for his vanity, he moved on, humming a tune. Like most men, he lacked the innate gift of shopping which all women seem to possess. There were no brief stops to check out the store's inventory, rather he navigated his way directly to his target...the Fragrance section.

Stopping at the huge stand for female fragrances, he stylishly cast furtive glances over his shoulder to scout the scene for reactions. The world is a kinky place he mused to himself, a man can't even shop freely without eyebrows being raised. He turned his attention to the perfumes and struggled to concentrate. Givenchy, Armani, cK, Burberry, Vera Wang...hmmm, even Beyonce was peddling scents now. Trying as much as possible to act natural, he slowly brought each bottle a few inches from his face and tried to 'taste' the fragrance with his senses. Once again he was struck by that timeless dilemma or question all men face..."What do women want?" To answer that question, he concluded that he'd have to think like a woman. He chuckled at his own genius, and squared his shoulders as if to acknowledge the silent applause ringing in his imagination.

At that point, the store attendant walked up to him, with a dazzling smile artistically etched on her face, she asked if he needed any assistance. "No thank you, I am okay, just want to pick up a perfume for my sister", he replied. Unconsciously, his voice had dropped an octave, the bass more defined and the accent polished. It is amazing the effect a random beautiful woman can have on a man. In a second, he had switched cultures from African to Mediterranean, his voice, transformed from D'Angelo to Barry White, advertising that he was single and at the same time showing a loving and caring side. After the store attendant moved on, his brain switched into overdrive, processing her beauty and at the same time trying to match the scent of her fragrance to one of the bottles on display.

A few minutes later, he gave up and decided to go ahead with his previous Einstein conclusion of 'thinking like a woman'. So he picked a bottle of perfume at random, glanced nervously around, and sprayed some into the air. He darted his wrist in one fluid motion through the perfume mist and brought his wrist to his nose. "Hmmmm, not bad", he thought. 10 minutes later and about 10 bottles of perfume after, he looked more confused than ever. Sheepishly, he walked over to the male fragrance section, reeking like King Solomon in the middle of his harem, avoiding the bemused glance of the store attendant. Within 2 minutes, he had picked out a cologne. He marveled at how complex it was to think like a woman in contrast to the simplicity of men. Determined not to give up, he walked back to the female section in a bid to mend his wounded ego.

20 minutes later, both arms tattooed with female fragrances and still undecided, he gave up, a defeated man. The store attendants who had been watching him all along, finally came to his rescue. Flanked on both sides by beautiful women who explained the mechanism of the female mind/personality to him, his ego gradually recovered. Pearls of laughter rang through the store as he regained his bravado and charmed the store attendants with his wit, Mediterranean accent in full gear, he rediscovered the art of subtle flirtation and communication. One hour later, a transformed man, his unique fragrance turning heads and drawing admiring glances, he walked out of the store with his shopping bag filled. On his way out of the mall, he paused by a huge Victoria Secret poster. With his left eyebrow arched and a smug smile on his face, he muttered to the poster model..."Now I know your secret"...Or so he thought...

La Fruta Prohibida

The Room has been swept clean. Stripped of all pictures and memories. It lies bare, except for the glow of a flickering candle, providing the illusion of warmth. Though an illusion the candle may be, its presence remains the sole link to the past. Once, pictures had adorned these walls. Sweet smelling fragrances once lingered in the air, reminiscent of a summer afternoon. Brightly lit and warm, the room once radiated energy and the occupants never wanted to leave. But that feels like a lifetime ago...

The pale glow of the candle casts faint shadows like the works of an absent-minded painter. The air is still, save for the occasional drift of air that squeezes in from the window. The fragrances have long faded, replaced by the emptiness of frozen scents trapped in the memories of the owner. Every now and then, the wind brings in traces of laughter and faint scents of the past. Like an illusion, it only lingers for a heartbeat, slowly retreating like silent footfalls in a dream.

The poets lied to us all. Time doesn't heal all things. Though the room may be bare of pictures, the holes left by the picture hooks still remain. When darkness falls, the ghosts of the past whisper softly from the holes. Why do we fall prey to our minds? Why are we held captive by our hearts? How do you wake up from a dream when your eyes are wide open? How do you open the door to a room locked without keys? Why was the fruit forbidden?

The Stigma of the Forbidden Fruit...

Armani Code & Restroom Chronicles

Newark, Saturday
Spent the weekend in solitude listening to Michael Buble and working on my presentation slides for the San Diego project. There is a pattern of sobriety and calmness that can only be experienced in isolation, not that I recommend it all the time.

Somewhere over the Mississippi...Sunday 5.05pm
Cocooned in between a cute Indian chick and a mother with a cute curly haired kid clad in a red Aeropostale shirt. Not the classic seat I'd say, gotta upgrade to Business class! On a side note, my body wash and body lotion never made it outta Newark, had a flight restriction slapped on them. Curly hair is raising the volume on his screams, so I tune out the noise and drift into pseudo-consciousness whilst basking in the fragrance of Armani Code

5.35pm
Parenthood is not rocket science but it sure ranks close to it. Deciphering the whims and screams of a child can be nerve-racking. Curly hair is throwing a mini tantrum! When I was 9, my best friend was aged 2. It was tough at first to understand his gibberish speech, it wasnt like the Navi language of Avatar, it was more cryptic. But I did learn and we developed our own communication syntax. His eyes could almost see into ur soul, I believe he spoke alot more with his eyes. Sometimes I think thatz why I avoid eye contact till date. He passed away before he was 4, I never really understood why he had to leave earth but he left me with a gift. I never realized it, people say I am a baby/child magnet. Dunno why, I just understand kids.

5.50pm
I often dream about fatherhood even though I am single. Don't ask me why I am single. In the depth of the different shades of excuses lies a hidden truth unknown to me. In a previous lifetime I was called the "Forbidden Fruit". Never understood why either. In a few days, my niece Kyla will arrive. That may be the catalyst I need to finally look down the aisle.

5.55pm
I really don't understand why people have to use the restroom so frequently. My music tastes are quite eclectic. In my dreams I switch from Michael Buble to Maxwell to Nat King Cole and back to John Legend. Throw in Coldplay as an intermission. Air hostesses are human angels. Up in the clouds, with an ever-present smile, attending to the needs of mortals. I respect them alot.

6.15pm
The exodus to the restroom is amazing. You'd think the crew members were hiding chipmunks in there as an attraction. Curly hair keeps running up & down the plane aisle oblivious to the quizzical expression on the faces of other passengers and ignoring the controlled frustration on his mum's face. How I miss the bliss of childhood.

7.25pm
There must be a fetish about taking a leak way up in the clouds! I simply cannot come up with a logical reason as to why so many people have to use the restroom! It seems I am the only person who hasnt made the trip yet. Maybe I am a robot. Or there might be treasure hidden in the restroom. I'll start watching the facial expressions of the "restroom treasure hunters" for any clues.

7.48pm
One thing is certain, I am definitely not peeing in the clouds, thatz uncouth! Some poor dude may get splashed down in St Louis. Dunno if we are still over Ole Miss.

7.52pm
Mayday, Mayday, the cute Indian chick just joined the exodus. I am the last hope for humanity. Currently activating "bladder-lock mode". Curly hair is smiling at me, more like grinning with evil intentions as if to say "U r next!" Let the mind games begin. I am not losing this battle! I'll rather pee in my mind than step into that restroom.

7.58pm
Time seems to be crawling...

8:15pm
The exodus continues, the tough looking "David Carradine" lookalike fella a few seats away, just gave into the pressure. By my count, there are only 2 mortals left: Yours sincerely and an elderly looking Indian man whose family apparently switched sides to the exodus hours ago.

8.26pm
Make that one mortal left. Gandhi just fell...

8.57pm
I hope the pilot doesnt go to the restroom!

9.35pm
Touchdown...Phoenix, Arizona. See y'all in San Diego!

Camry

July 28,2010
Mahwah

Nervousness is an expression of humanity. Thatz why I always feel that action movies are unreal because the protagonist barely shows any hint of unease before blowing everyone out of the screen. The beauty of feeling nervous is best described by the after effects of calm. Quivering lips, tight muscles, pinched nerves, replaced by a sense of "Why was I worried in the first place?". Relief basically floats on the same frequency as ecstasy. It is simply too cryptic to explain...

So I stepped into a new car this week and I felt at home. Little wonder I felt barely any emotion when my old battle-scarred hoopty was murdered on the sidewalk.I don't feel any guilt, just a sense of liberation and freedom...and a little nervous. Camry was my first and I cherish the moments we shared, but sometimes you just have to move on...a blissful divorce? She still stares at me with reproach from the street, I force myself to look away and blatantly stare at the new generation.It aint as if there hadnt been previous flings in the past, I am just bold enough to admit that itz time to move on...

August is a big month! Delaware, San Diego and Canada on the horizon. Huge decisions to be made, the feverish excitement of anticipation, dragonflies fluttering in the summer landscape of my mind, Givenchy-scented winds painting illusions in my dreams...Life is beautiful, if you accept it! I may not be fly but I try my best to float, navigating the currents of life with a subtle nonchalance borne out of faith in an unseen presence. I embrace the unpredictability of the next second, savoring the thrill like a child, therein lies the naivety and beauty of my personality...

"You can't tell a man's life from his footprints..."

cK oNe

July 24, 2010

"Salt" was pretty spicy, few twists and turns got me engaged in the flow.Itz hard to ignore Angelina Jolie. Itz not just her facial features or physique, the woman just has a wild aura about her. Sensuality is natural to women, but few have the gift of channelling it the way Jolie does. She reminds me of Delilah, Samson did'nt stand a chance...

I always wondered how Adam felt the first time he set eyes on Eve. Was it love at first sight? Did he blink twice and wonder if he was dreaming? Why did he really eat the apple? Did he do it 'cos he was ready to sacrifice everything in order to please her? Love is a strange thing. Adam's weakness was his rib, Achilles wasn't a man and his heel still remains a myth...

What makes a dream different from reality? Ever slept with a new fragrance on your pillow? Soft, sensual and smooth...cK oNe

12:45am
So I was lying in my bed, listening to music and dreaming...heard a loud bang! Kinda sounded like lightning, but the chords didnt sound right. I peeped out of my window, didnt see anything awry, so I switched back to floating with music from Maxwell...Phone rings, I skip downstairs to open the door and to my amazement, I encounter a circus in full flow.

The loud bang turned out to be my car taking a hit from an "alcohol-befuddled cop-impersonating woman". A wide range of emotions ran through my head...Sue her! New Car! Oops, I'm screwed! Punch her lights out!...At the end of it all, I just felt calm...It felt like a dream, and all the characters around me were projections...the scent of cK oNe was the only link to reality

Inception

July 20, 2010...Somewhere in Mahwah, NJ

July 17th was the turning point. Dunno if it was spontaneous or stimulated, but I made the decision. I need a new architect! It is easy to get carried away while traversing the shores of life...the regular rhythms of everyday life masquerading as a subtle sedative to numb the swift flow of time...

I gradually discovered that resurrecting old ideas is synonymous to painting with water...apparently there is no cemetery in our minds, the ideas quickly fade as if formatted by a lazy programmer...

For those who don't know me...I am often misunderstood. Reality is a projected dream, deja-vu or presque-vu? There is an invisible disconnection between the personalities we portray to the world and the real shadows lurking in our minds. I am a Nigerian, in case you haven't figured out yet...

Enough of the cryptic speech. Welcome to my scrambled thoughts. Intertwined somewhere between layers of abstract speech and reasoning, lies a flicker of logic. I'll speak the truth as I see it, feel free to remove the speck in my eye if you see any...

In the fabled words of a friend..." You can't tell a man's life from his footprints"