You might as well start with the truth because you’re gonna end with it
Bill Bailey
I tend to think I am the crazy type. One with a twisted mind. For me, simple things are complicated, and complicated things are, well, complicated. But all these are not without reason. My problem is I don’t know if the reasons are worthy reasons. As twisted as I am though, evil thoughts like revenge, or gory scenes of blood and demons don’t run like mad men in my mind. They don’t run at all. I don’t remove the clothe called skin on my mother’s body with a pocket knife for the forceful way she bottled this madness called timidity inside me. I never have looped scenes of holding a revolver at my dad, and playing eyije eyioje as he cowers in feminine fear for the woman he almost made of me. Stories are beautiful, and scary, and they make us. There is a story about a wicked witch who wanted to conjure a lion out of an eagle. There is another witch who wanted to save the world. She is the good one, she stopped the wicked witch halfway. What we have now is a gryphon. Half of this and half of that. That is what I see when I look into every kind of mirror; half of this and that. A man and a woman. But androgynous is beautiful, artful, and I like it. I don’t even have a wicked step mother who I kill in my head every night in my sleep.
Rather, all I have are dreams of better days, for my mother, and father, and siblings, and friends who my mind has randomly selected as it deems fit. Wanting to provide better days for loved ones is a good thing, right? Haha. Sorry to shock you. No. It is disastrous. It has made me a disaster. I am beautiful, inside of me, I still choose to believe that. But I don’t argue against being a beautiful disaster.
Sometimes, we hurt ourselves to take away pain from the ones we love. Like when I was small, and mom would beat little brother, and I would cry and scream at her, ‘stop, please stop.’. She wouldn’t, and I would desperately claim to have done what he was being punished for, so she could let her pent up anger on me instead. That can be a beautiful thing. No? An act of chivalry in fact. Now, here is where the legend of the twisted mind comes in. What happens when you’ve done that too much, taken the blame, blamed yourself for collective faults too much, taken responsibilities that are ten years heavier than you too much that you blame yourself whenever you try to think of yourself first.
All men are egoistic in nature.
What happens when as you walk, talk, relate, meet up, people see a walking, talking, relatable blame-taker. What happens when people can easily make you feel guilty for their own wrongdoings, like turn the whole thing right on you. And you just don’t have the words to get out, to say ‘that wasn’t me, that was you.’ You have the thoughts of it, that the other should take the blame, but being the chivalrous honest-to-a-fault sissy mom has made you into, the see-tough-face-and-accept-the-accusations weaklun dad has beaten you to, you see a little area where you too might, just might have been culpable and you go blame-carrying again.
-Me too, I shouldn’t have done that, or said that. Next time, I won’t even come near so there’ll be no iota of blame for me-
There, you just admitted to being guilty… And the other can say before every other person, ‘it was him.’
See? It starts with playing Christ and taking the pain, blame, or responsibility that are for others.
Have you heard the tale of the two wolves? You haven’t? Go ask someone else, I’m not here for that. But for me, nothing’s ever that simple. Nothing is as simple as two wolves in battle, hoping to be fed, to get stronger. My story is that of demons, and they are not fighting themselves. I am fighting them. I want control, because it can give me peace. If I can successfully win them all, then I’ll know which demon to bring to the fore to do my exact bidding when and when.
I am a man of several beliefs, sometimes mutually exclusive beliefs. I believe there is a God, I believe in the efficacy of the name Jesus. It has worked for me a couple of times, my faith in him that is. My understanding of the whole deal is that if I want more, stronger, more pronounced miracles and answered prayers, I have to do some things more, and end certain activities. In summary what I am asked to do seems quite simple, love God and love your neighbors.. Every human that is. But me, I’d never been one to pick sides fully. For football clubs, I support Arsenal, and Real Madrid, and wherever there is Ronaldo or Mourinho or Ibrahimovic. I love good spiritual Christian songs, but I feel my Eminem swear words as much, almost as much. Hot and cold. Male and female. Androgynous. That’s how I am; not here or there. If you could peer into my soul, you’ll probably see a Yinyang image, almost like the two wolves, but trust me, they ain’t wolves. They are demons I fight everyday so I can put them on leashes, and have control, and have happiness, and peace.
Law Of Control
You feel happy to the level/degree to which you feel you are in control of your life.
You feel unhappy to the degree to which you feel you are not.
Sometimes, I am afraid for no reason I can place. Sometimes I am suddenly sad, and someone in me tells me I have no right to happiness, ‘why exactly are you happy?’ And I feel guilty immediately, for trying to live like I don’t care, when things ain’t where I want them to be yet. Sometimes, rarely, I am happy. Sometimes in fact I find satisfaction, but like an irritated ex, he leaves almost as soon as he is found. But peace, peace. That one, I constantly seek, and it ever-fleetingly gives me its soothing water. I am one with a twisted mind. I am one always on the run, running from these demons when I cannot fight them. In these times, I am hoping that peace will provide me with a seeker’s sword, surround me with a wizard’s fire, so these demons can be consumed, forever. However, that peace which I seek, I am almost daily reminded by someone inside me [maybe one of them, the demons] that it only comes with the grim tidings of death.
Time will heal everything, all the pains, hurts, worries, disappointments and mind wars. If not while alive, then in death, it will all be over
AOC
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OmoladeCollins 