lol… funny how I start the story of my life with a connotation. I do not claim to know it all. I have no one to talk to, and I have been feeling like writing lately. So I want to scribble stories about my life, and life generally, how I perceived it and how I’ve come to perceive it now. I’m a depressed fellow, but I think I can call myself smart, going by my Nigerian education, that’s if you consider it any good.
So I will be updating this whenever I feel like writing, when I miss an ex or maybe when I’m on self-destruct mode.

Yes, let’s talk about self destruct mode.
Nairaland, thanks to it, helped me come to a realization that I am not the only one who suffers from this. Do you ever feel like letting yourself go, maybe to dare your God, or maybe out of sheer depression, you just let everything go, you don’t care about yourself as you should, you live recklessly, and do all that which is detrimental to the survival of your person ?? That’s self destruct mode, and depression and loneliness most time is it’s trigger. There’s this guy here on the romance section, here’s a clear example of what I speak about. He talks about his brothel addiction, at first he was being careful, and then we went self destruct. I have always been on Nairaland, let’s say 5 years now, but this is the first time I’m creating a page. And I have been a keen follower of his travails in life. His name is something Doom, can’t quite remember. But what he goes through resonates with me. Self destruction is real. And in some extreme cases, ends in suicide, which to me is the last stage of self destruction, when you finally actually self destruct.
It’s good to be here. And I feel better writing. I won’t be replying, but I look forward to reading your thoughts. This is my safe space from now on, but I won’t be replying anyone. I am only a story teller and your thoughts, although beautiful, would not be replied

25 May, 2024
Funny how Facebook asks, what’s on your mind when you want to make a post, I’ve always found it difficult saying what’s on my mind, the internet never forgets, they say, and this keeps ringing in my ears, constant reminder that words when spoken can never be taken back. So here’s a faceless forum, so maybe I would say some things. I am a traveler, and just like Ajala, I live for the fun of it, and the women too.

Sexuality: I lost my virginity in the most profane way anyone could imagine. Peer pressure, contributing more to this than the actual urge to have s*x and get it over with. At the time, I was the only virgin amongst my squad and in the dire need to feel like a man, I indulged in what I would in my later years regret. I think from the look of things, I might call myself a late bloomer, but I’ve always been exposed to pornographic content from as early as 7, and masturbation, as early as I had started consuming porn, which to me, is a ruiner of men, the beast without a scary face or fangs, it comes in the place of feminine and soft looking face and body with tits. Porn is the gateway to sexual perversion. This isn't an argument with anyone, it’s me living my truth. Every sexual perversion that exists is fueled by porn. We see it and then we learn to act on it.
I came in contact with porn, from a friend, whose parents had bought it and would watch it at their own convenience and privacy. Being that where I grew up, parents would always leave kids at home to go look for ends meet, and the older “Aunties” as we would call them, would be made to look after us, and punish us if the need arose. The aunties were to make sure that we didn’t stroll too far from home and so if we stayed indoors, that would make their job easier. Children and idleness never go well together. So the kid I first saw porn in his house, stumbled upon it while ransacking his father’s private space, and out of curiosity, he watched it. And watching it, he introduced us, his friends to it, and we would take turns borrowing it from each other and watching it at our own private time and space. Once alone, masturbation wouldn’t be far fetched. My sex organ wasn’t yet fully developed but I could sustain a hard on, and although I had no sperm to show that I have climaxed, I still felt it nonetheless. It was sensational. 17 years later, here I am still battling the act I learnt as a kid. Funny thing is, the person I learnt this from probably might have stopped, and here I am unable to stop. So let this be a reminder not to follow the bandwagon. I make no excuses for myself, I am just a story teller.
We would later find out that some of those aunties, who were literally teen girls in secondary school and uni’s were also into porn. On some occasions, we caught them and we’d peak through their windows. The earliest sex experience most of us had, were through them, whom our parents felt knew better. My first time seeing a boob was an aunty, but I was too ashamed to stand for it, I wanted to run away and she forced me to stay. I wanted to cry, it took the intervention of the younger sis to make her let me go. And some of us who had super growth and had better developed phallus, would later on bang those aunties. And we’d delight in the tales of their conquest. And the more they got neck deep into sex, the more they craved more conquest. My earliest sex experience was with a neighbor of same age, we got naked but I didn’t have or know what sex was, I just lay on top of her and that was all. Her dad and mom would later die of AIDS and they’d have to move out and stay with relatives far away from us. She was my first encounter with a female folk.
One of the greatest undoing we feared was having a disc stuck inside a DVD player. Because more often than not, my dad would not let us go anywhere near the Tv when he was home, so there was a high probability that he’d see it , and then that would spell doom for all of us. Ofcourse, being from a home where we had majority of boys and only one girl, I would never say the truth or take the fall, I’d rather we all took the punishment. It wasn’t the punishment I was scared of, I have all been as tough as bull, but it was the stigmatization that comes after the beating, parents never forgot things like that, and always taunt you with it. But if no one takes the fall, then they’d only have to punish us and it ends there, no taunting. But my mom always knew from her mothers instinct who was capable of what and not, most times correct, and some times not, and this would see you receive beatings even while protesting you didn’t do it. There’s no presumption of innocence until proven guilty, and just like Ceaser, she called all the shots when it comes to disciplining us, my dad on the other hand adored us, even guilty or not, he preferred to talk things through but in some rare occasions, uses his fist. But my mom just like every African mom, used her environment as a tool of discipline. In her words, she’d rather kill us herself than allow us go to waste.
Well she never caught me watching porn, that’s why I still have my two eyes complete, because I bet she’d have gouged my eye. So on one of the occasions, NEPA took the light before I finished, so I had to lose the DVD player to get the disc out, and this would cause the DVD to develop faults that would see it spoil in the nearest future. Ofcourse, I took no fall for that

26 May (Sunday)
Fear of abandonment: I am a clingy lover, but I also move on easily. While it lasts, no matter how short lived it might be, would truly forever be unforgetful for us both, or maybe I delude myself to believe. How can you ever tell when someone truly loves you? People love in moments. And when those moments end, it cracks. This I believe applies to everyone. He loves you today because you are young, beautiful or even a debutante, but when all those goes away, would it still be the same? So you see, moments!.
So this makes me clingy. I become attached easily and I have been hurt before. So I had to develop a way to fight for my sanity when I feel like I’m drowning. So before you leave, I leave. It’s not been easy perfecting this act, but I can to some extent say I have perfected the art of moving. So these are what I do to move on:
Firstly, I never memorize anyone’s number, no matter how crazy I am over you. Even my mom’s number, I don’t know it without looking it up. Because when you know her number, calling her on one of those days you feel shitty would be easy or you could even drunk call her. So best solution is not to ever memorize it. So that way, when you cut her off, even when you want to call her, you’d never be able to call. Then clear your call logs and every other avenue you can get her number in those lonely dark days we all abhor. Yea, humans are social animals, we thrive in packs and not in solitude. So yes, you’d miss her, it would hurt, but you can never call her. So you would have no other option than to suck it up and move on. That’s your survival instincts kicking in. Like it or not, all human live is game. Darwin calls it social Darwinism, stand strong or get knocked off. And from experience, I know no one wants to die. So respect anyone who commits suicide. It’s cowardice, yes, but respect still. It takes hopelessness to sink too deep into that abyss. Well, I can never kill myself, because I believe in God, and He always shows off.
Second way I move on, is to change environment. If you can leave, running always helps. Run because it hurts and distance makes the heart grow less fonder. Change your number, go off the grid
Well, growing up, I realized that my fear of abandonment has made me unable to build relationships. What’s life without human relationships. I think I have now developed social anxiety, or maybe it’s because I’m broke at the moment. Phew, whatever it is, I thought I was protecting myself, congratulations, there’s no one to even run away from anymore. You live in your head and now you so want to feel human connection, you entertain strangers with the travails of your life, how the mighty has fallen ….
I have always been a popular kid, and I was the Head boy in my primary days, so you see, I’m smart. But as I grew older, recoiled. I became less interested in things. I have a fear of failure, and this makes me not to try at all, because I don’t want to fail
God have mercy on my soul