You could say that our purpose in life is to worship God; but religion unmixed in this age would get even an old man bored. Of course our deeds should be good, good conscience is what everyone should hope to eat like food. But those “don’ts” can’t be totally escaped, can they? We flirt on Monday, lie on Tuesday, curse and hate our fellow brethren on Thursday, yet here we are, Jumat on Friday, church on Sunday; and it’s the easiest thing to do, forgetting about judgment day.
I have toured the Cambodian borders, seeking marriage, visiting countries to register my orders. But as much as I tried convincing the Egyptian brothers, they still considered giving their sisters out as making them cannon fodders. Catholics invited me to celibacy, to become like a monk or the Roman Papacy, not to me anyway a sort of idiocy, just that when I see Toyosi with those cheeks of hers so rosy, my manhood would forget religion and become very nosy; don’t imagine it… it becomes so messy that my laps become so glossy.
I have sought happiness, when sad, drank Guinness. I have been sad, tried comedy films so hard, yet never stopped being mad. I prayed, like a horse, brayed, yet, my heart never raced, not until I got laid. I later discovered when gangs of boredom raid, one of the solutions is to get laid, therapists know that, that’s why they get paid. I went to Somalia and met a lady called Lydia, tabled before her my idea, pranced confidently about in my regalia, yet she only shook her head and told me to go to India, that I would never find my type of woman in Somalia. What a fallacious idea! I guess I could use some music now, could somebody find me Beautiful Nubia or Tuface Idibia?
Iraq was my next place, heart attack nearly got me, you wouldn’t imagine if you want to marry an Iraqi, what you would face. Before I could even learn their ways, I was already being threatened to prepare for being set ablaze. And I have returned home, rested my head for a while in my dome; slept soundly on my foam, so tired to roam, even ignored all the calls from Rome. They say what we’ll do in paradise is sing. That’s the information my friends never stop to bring. But I would rather buy Blackberry Z10 for the angels and ping, have a hundred queens and become their king, use my tool to sting and all sorts of hymn books, into rivers, fling. Haven’t I had enough of songs on earth? Haven’t we always sung by our hearth? Haven’t we had enough religion-religion since our birth till death? If in paradise everything is not about swimming, eating, partying, reading novels, sports and mirth, ah, I’m not sure I’ll not be bored, lean and lose my girth.
Jesus said love your neighbour as you love yourself. I’m doing my best to love mine, his name is Joseph. He unnecessarily blows whistles like a ref., pollutes the whole building with his perf., sings ridiculously loud like an elf, and I’ve complained several times but Joseph seems to be deaf. I have a dagger in my shelf. If I butcher Joseph like a chef, Jesus better understand my agony, Joseph is unrepentantly deaf.
How we love to lie! How when we laugh, we pretend to cry! Our friends are starving, we won’t give them some of our plantains to fry. We claim to be righteous, loyal servant/son of the Most High. We condemn writers like Lord eBay, saying he’s an ungodly guy. Some people would even wish for me to die, oh my… Whereas, you’re not married and yet not a virgin, Aunt Holy-Holy, why? Well, omo mi naa niyin, say cheese, ewaa je pie.
We have the problem of hypocrisy so much among humankind. In Nigeria, everyone claims to have a righteous mind. Yet, what is it that 90% of boys want to find? To skip into a female hind! Places of worship are filled with such fervour, yet, our girls are not to their fates, kind. Can we just accept we’re imperfect and start looking for the remedial concoctions to grind? Can we just simply accept that we have an animal nature and stop being ridiculously blind? I’m a faithful guy to my girlfriend. It’s not that I regularly spend, or when I see a great love text on the ‘net, I quickly tap send; but I’ve not been pretending that when I see another pretty girl, I do not say wow! That when I find a new sidekick land to cultivate, I do not wish to plough. That as a bull, my attention isn’t piqued at the presence of a cow. Or that when some twin goddesses suddenly cheaply show their faces, I do not bow. But we’re still always together because of her understanding, she’s reading this now.
We have to evolve, that’s the point. Faithfully and reliably we have to be in love, that’s the hunt. We have to say enough is enough, we need to be blunt. Zip up your private stuff, don’t be the runt. Stop flaunting your curves, stop being a cunt. In a meaningful righteousness revolution, we all have to involve, there are horses to mount. Our animal nature’s threat is a bluff, without our consent, it has no power to haunt. Around a global philosophy of common sense is where we should revolve, our strengths are what we should appoint to do the stunt and anoint the fronts to subdue the cunts in us, rising to taunt our new efforts’ font. We have to evolve, in short, that’s the point. I might have passed no meaningful message, but I guess about righteousness evolution, I’ve written an essay, or is it called a passage? Or is it a garbage? Whatever… Ta ta.
©Lord eBay (and his random ruminations, 2016)