Coming back to the Pit Sink

8+ weeks in my homeland. The land I reminisced about. The land that was to jolt my emotions and fill my cup. 2 months at home in Nigeria was magical. In the end, it returned similar to the vacation stories I have heard but rarely experienced. It was a period where time paused, pain paused, sorrow paused, vices paused, but once I landed back in my functional home, the house I live and go to work at; all the dams of pain, sorrow, vices and even good relations flooded back. They didn’t merely continue from where I left, they had built up and now threaten to destroy my emotional fences!

Before jumping into the waves of emotions that have been dammed up, waiting for my return. I want to say that I have resisted the urge to be a solution provider with my writings.

BACKSToRY

When I started writing poetry some 15–20 years ago. I was on a massively huge horse. I was righteous and I knew it. Me and God were buddies. I had sin, yes but I kept a short account so it was cool. Jesus was not a filthy rag like me, he was my clean white rag that never gets stained. I was good at wiping my buttocks with Him and feeling clean afterwards. The most important thing was feeling clean, it didn’t matter if I had diarrhea. I mean, what is that? My health is irrelevant if I can look pristine and especially holy.

So I wrote often from a place of having answers. After all, I have walked where you are about to walk. Never mind that I am 14, 15, or even 21 years old; I had experience. Life had been hard and I have triumphed and come through unbroken.

Like I said, so I wrote to help the idiots out there find a way that I had perfected and that worked well.

Now I am the idiot again

So this time around, I really just want to be descriptive. I want to put my pin on the very spot in the boil or knot or ballon that will provide the most satisfying undoing of the build up of grunt. But I have no intention of applying any pressure. For myself, I just want to find that spot because that alone is hard. It’s so messy to wear a white shirt and puncture a big acne that is full of blood especially when there is no stain resistant rag like Jesus to wipe it with physically.

Being Back, Being Black

Black not as in the tone of my skin but black as in the state of dark air matter surrounding me. I really should use darkness but something about that work feels dark, pun intended. The really accurate way of describing where I am is being in a pitch black pit where darkness thumps at me by the minute like a shore sand at the rumblings of a tsunami building up.

I know a Tsunami is coming but I’m not sure what is wise. Like imagine being a snail at a beach shore and being aware that a mighty wave is coming. WhT exactly do you do? You really cannot out run the wave. Why try?

There is the Feeling

… and there is the truth.

  • I feel like all my problems did not melt away when I went to Nigeria.
  • I feel like Nigeria solved nothing but it enriched my memories
  • I feel like I am faced with the reality that I must make new different difficult choices
  • And I feel like I am stuck and see no point to change even as I slide down a steep slide.

Reconnected with Possible

Nigeria reminded me what life is like

  • The people I wake up to is just as important as the purpose I wake up for
  • The people I work with are just as critical as the people I work for
  • The people I hone with are just as important as the people that serve me.

In other words, location is important because people are essential. Apple doesn’t go in Nigeria as tropical and rich as her soil is but it grows in California which is technically classified as a desert, okay maybe not all of her.

Location here though has more to do with the chemistry and physicals of the energy that makes up the breath around me than it does the temperature in the room or the mindset of growth.

The Dichotomy

California is where I am growing, where I am stretching, where I long to arrive at; yet she only really drains me of life; rarely pours life into me. And in less than a week of being back, all my cup filled up in 2 months has been drained past the state of deficit from leaving for Nigeria.

Here is the dangerous fact, and I have not even started work. I start work on Monday and I just dread the thought. It’s very dark and I feel very clueless.

Leave it All

I think about drastic life choices at least ten times a day because every podcast and clubhouse room that intrigued me often veer towards the topic of

“how did you do it?”

And I had another one today.

I got to listen to people who have made it talk about the one choice they made that set them on the trajectory of success. And it invariably always include some form of

Finding myself, choosing for my peace, and getting away from mental toxin to be in a space to create and be free!

But I cannot get myself to even consider freedom. Maybe I will get it out. Why is freedom so painful to ponder. Why am I enamored by being chained. And I don’t Even like BDSM, or maybe I just haven’t tried it.

I think freedom for me coincides with disobedience.

I really wanna be my own God.

The reason California is life zapping isn’t because her people are not beautiful. Heaven knows blondes truly do have the most fun, and the beach is the goddess’ stage for ebony curvature.

California is suffocating because God wants me here now, and this season.

And my whole being just wants to be free of God. I wanna be free of the Bible. I wanna be free of the tether. I wanna go create my own philosophy and leave it behind for many generations to hone and perfect. Honestly, I really truly wanna be Jesus.

  • Why don’t I get to be profound ?
  • Why don’t I get to create my own parables ?
  • Why don’t I get to be adored?
  • Why don’t I get to be worshipped ?

So many why don’t I? But the answers lead to the same question:

“And what then after ?”

The depth of God, the enamors of Christ is the duality of His being. The idea that He is human means, He is within reach. He is graspable. He is here and there and real and palpable. The idea that He is divine means, that He is not here. He is not my mate. I cannot arrive at Him at least not in this life.

What makes God in every religion, belief, essence and even in math is infiniteness. It’s infinity.

♾♾♾♾♾♾♾♾♾♾♾

God in math is found when anything is divided by 0.

God in faith is ultimate because He is always that next level however high or low or deep you have gotten.

God in religion is the being that makes one visibly, mentally, really feel instantly small.

So imagine me as God.

There is no equation where finity fits God yet there is nothing more intoxicating as the lie that I can be.

So, help me God.

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I’m an aspiring story teller that is learning to let stories tell their own morals. You’ll find me where Faith-Tech-Art meet.

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Adedolapo Olisa

Adedolapo Olisa

I’m an aspiring story teller that is learning to let stories tell their own morals. You’ll find me where Faith-Tech-Art meet.

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