Do I have one? How did it all get started? Am I still stuck in it? If yes then how do I outrun it?
Growing up does come with a whole lot of issues and exploring the outskirts is definitely one of them.
I grew up a normal kid, good kid who loved to play more than he did school. I wasn’t addicted to any bad praxes except but of course play which I think was the usual for any normal kid my age that’s not a weirdo. However ever since the ages of 5 & 6, I’d been adventurous, inquisitive like the baboon that loved being happy to say the least, and i enjoyed most of my childhood days… growing up was fun, but the transition into adulthood was a bit snowballed though; kind’a slow, my peers had grown beards, and almost twice as tall as I was, yeah I was that little, that little dude walking amongst those giant guerrillas (I felt safe and protected though hehe). I would shield myself real good while in the public bathroom in Sec. School (well you
don’t need to know why… chew on that…lol) and well, I wasn’t always lucky.
It took me time to mature as a male breed and for the height, even while I was still little at age sixteen when I graduated Sec. School, I always believed that I was gonna add up some few inches, maybe even feet and I wasn’t wrong, (think BIG the book said). Plus maybe that belief helped/made me outgrow myself or perhaps responsible for inducing growth in little old me. I hear that a particular meal/food has a lot of protein in it and I’d jump at it, it didn’t have to taste good, that’s how I became a fan of snail; yeah I said it, Snails with an s!!! Many years after school, whenever I come across the big huge boys from back in the day, (as I thought they were), they often look and are much more smaller than I am, my maturity can then be said to be delayed, whatever the cause, lack of essential vitamins and nutrients I needed for growth? Maybe…
So while on that adventurous breath-taking youthful journey crossing over, I picked up quite a few droplets of awful bad guys in black hoodies called ‘habits’, I managed to drop a few of them along the path in the “clean thyself river” but not one. One of the dudes is still stuck in there; somewhere, in my backyard. He’s my guilty pleasure yet my worst enemy and nightmare, and sometimes I wish I never met him, never gave him a chance to stay the night over, cos over the years he’s proven difficult to outrun.
I had this friend who used to smoke some good sticks of cigarette and I was always on his case as though I was his dad; all up in his mix like akamu… hehe, whether or not he’s dropped dead his own bad guy in the sticks I really can’t say, but my bad guy, he still lives right there in my backyard.
On a bad day, he’s my first misadventure before I leave the house and probably the last shadow to lay in my bed before my eyes close, cos he lives inside of me; my addiction, you’ll never know unless I tell, and that’s why I still don’t know yours.
The song said, “there’s always one addiction, that just cannot be controlled” (Mute Math in the great song ‘You Are Mine’), thusly if I’m able to control and conquer my on-going belligerence with the bad guy, then you can call me and say “hey angel” and I sure won’t be faking a smile, or better yet you can again say “you see that dude, he’s without problems” like my colleagues often think (huh! for their mind…mtcheeeeeeew, who’s without problems?) and again I won’t see it as being outlandish or eccentric cos with that in my head, I’d be like, I’ve conquered the bad guy; my addiction, and he’s long been buried… long gone… far gone for – so – long…
But until then, I’m still here, fighting… #neverquit!!!