It’s Relieving To Have More Happy Days.
Recently, I’ve been satisfied with the way my life has been going — minus the blows Tinubu’s economy has been dishing out of course. I like the fact that I am “home" now and I get to tell my mom I love her to her face without overthinking it. I am having fun watching new Korean series with my sister while we giggle over the cute boys and badass female characters. I look forward to the last minute outings I have planned with my dad and the books and music I have queued up to spend time with.
Sometimes though, I get this niggling feeling that the other shoe would drop soon, that my bright sun would set and the darkness I’m quite familiar with but hide so well would envelope me. I find myself preparing for the i-do-not-want-to-get-out-of-bed days, the intense social anxiety, and unexplainable sadness that pop up randomly for days, weeks even, on a stretch. I know these days would come, inevitably, but I want to immerse myself in the now— these peaceful moments I find myself having.
“Reminiscing On Those Past Days".
Some days, I find myself shuffling through past memories. Picture this: I am in a house— let’s call it the house of remembering— and there are all these doors. Behind these doors are memories not quite forgotten, memories repressed, memories misunderstood, and memories missed— all waiting for me to remember, even if for a little moment. So I do, I remember. I remember the songs I loved listening to in 2017 and 2018 then head over to Spotify to search for them, and become filled with something like joy as the emotions I had then are reborn. I laugh like a child when I listen to Good Grief by Bastille again after 7 years. I smile when my favourite Ed Sheeran songs queue up. Foster The People’s “sit next to me". Jonas Blue’s “Mama” and “Fast car" . Listening to ‘Mama" suddenly puts one particular memory in highlights: 14 year old me with my mom’s radio shouting “don’t wanna wake up one day wondering where did it all go" with so much passion and vim.
I remember the books I read 4 years ago that changed me. I read them all over and I’m pleased to discover that they are still able to create that familiar pleasant knot in my stomach. Benjamin Alire’s Saenz’s Aristotle and Dante most especially.
I remember people too: Mama, the pepper seller that lived across our home in Lagos. The teenagers on the street I was too shy to mingle with which led them to conclude I was just stuck up. An old childhood friend. Iya Barakat, the street’s pharmacist. My high school friends. My old neighbours. That one boy I couldn’t stop thinking about for 4 years. Myself: the girl I used to be and wish I still was. My sister when she was 6. My mum 10 years ago.
I find myself floating out of reality and living in my head a lot these days. I re-have and reimagine old conversations and events. I see people in my mind eye as they were many years ago. I gravitate towards my old music and books and habits. I feel like my life has become a cassette I have slotted in to curl up in a corner to rewatch; to dissect and examine. Like a silent film, no audible words, just diverse feelings as warm as an embrace, a proof that I had good days.
Mamma Mia, hell spilled over!
The heat in Nigeria has me rededicating my life to Christ every moment because nope, I’m not doing hell thank you very much. When I read books or watch movies and it is mentioned that winter is a dark and gloomy period, I find myself thinking that I would rather choose dark and gloomy over hot and uncomfortable anyday. I was so emotional when we had our first rainfall a few days ago and actually accepted that my God still cares about me. One thing about me, I cannot manage heat. Ever.
In My Queen and Prince Era.
I find myself to be a deeply versatile being when it comes to music, and I’m not saying this to flatter myself, it’s just the truth. The kind of music I love reflects this. I simply adore a fusion of many genres: soul, spiritual, disco, ballads, rock, pop, and random Barbie classics. And I love how I randomly get new songs to commit to eternal memory. Like Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now. I was rereading an old book where the song was mentioned and I got curious. I wanted to know how the song fitted into that scene and headed to Spotify (my soulmate!) to listen to it now I can’t stop singing, “I’m burning through the sky, 200 hundred degrees that’s why they call me Mr Fahrenheit, I’m traveling at a speed of light. I wanna make a supersonic man outta you" every five minutes. It’s a very catchy breezy song and I’m obsessed. Not as obsessed as I am with Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody though. You might not understand but I’m so pleased with myself for learning that song after playing it back to back every other hour for a week!
Prince’s Kiss and Purple Rain also have me in a chokehold. I do not think I would ever be able to imitate his vocals or match the beat in “Purple Rain" but I am on a mission to learn “Kiss” word for word. This is quite random but I googled Purple Rain and learnt what Prince meant when he sang, “I only wanna see you dancing underneath the purple rain". Purple rain: a mixture of red and black; blood and chaos. The world might not be working right but his love interest will be dancing underneath the purple rain! Can’t wait to write something about that.
Help, SNL is eating up my data subscription!
Two months ago, I read Romantic Comedy by Curtis Last Name Forgotten and was intrigued by the plot: a romance between a sketch writer and a famous musician. I admit the comedy was a bit too foreign to me and I couldn’t understand some concepts and jokes, but one thing stuck with me: what the hell was a sketch? An art work? I went to YouTube (my second soulmate!) to get answers and stumbled on Saturday Night Live. Realised that a sketch is mainly comedy but kind of professionally acted. Think five minutes sitcom. They bring in celebrities to add flair to it and, pardon my French, they’re so fucking funny! Well most of them.
I developed a new found addiction to SNLs, laugh before I even press play. Now I have a kind of non romantic, totally professional crush on Pete Davidson and have deep respect for That Black Tall Woman in Coming To America, Leila Jones. And Kenan Thompson too. I think everyone should at least watch one SNL sketch before they die, just saying you know.
Spotify Has Become My Go-to Therapist
A long overdue shout-out to my BAE, Spotify.
I am not a person that gets attached to apps or websites. I could go days without opening the apps considered to be the “essentials" but not anymore, since I got hooked on Spotify.
I think it would be considered cheesy or just plain weird to say I’m very sentimental about this app. The thought of even losing my account makes me grieve. Here’s a list of what Spotify has given me:
- Podcasts: ISWIS, Low-key Relatable, my beloved true crime pods, You can rest here, etc etc. I’m grateful for these voices available to turn on when the ones in my head are too loud or demanding. They make chores easier and life is a bit better when I listen and live through other people’s shenanigans.
- For the music, always. The previous chapters must have given an insight into my relationship with music and most of it is thanks to Spotify. The old music I turn to on days I need to remember certain feelings, the new music I fall in love with, the people I get to know through these songs, the stories that are not mine but become mine eventually are all gifts Spotify has given and will continue to give me.
- On days that are coloured black, where the clouds above my head are heavy with not rain water but with tears I keep suppressing, Spotify comes through. A while ago, I had a dark episode and was so sad and anxious I couldn’t sleep. And sleep is the only way I know to deal with my unwanted feelings so I felt stuck. I didn’t want to reach into myself to understand what was going on within, I just wanted an escape. I found myself typing “mental health songs" into Spotify’s search box, plugged my ears and listened to the first playlist that was recommended to me. Now I know 80% of the songs on that playlist and they’re all so amazing and soothing. Exactly what I needed.
- The daylists: I recently discovered Spotify did this thing where they make personalized playlists for morning, afternoon, evening, and night based on past listenings and it’s the best thing so far! Thank you Spotify, for making life a bit less lonely.
The Writer In Me Is Restless.
And I maybe kind of like it?
My brain has been working over time to develop story prompts and it’s a whole lot that I have to write them immediately or I get two new ideas in the next five minutes and there goes the best idea I had ten minutes ago. I’m kind of excited about it but a bit anxious too. I’m always anxious when it comes to writing because I tend to self sabotage and think all my writings are horrible. Totally relatable right?
I find it pleasant when I listen to a song, get lost in one imagination or the other, make up conversations, see people doing things, and just think: hey, there’s a story here. I love being in that space where the world around me is a blur, all sounds are on mute and it’s just me and a new story idea getting to know each other. That feeling of being on the verge of creating something, even if it’s just in my mind is one of the reasons I won’t let my anxiety win the battle of “write and love it or just jump off a cliff because you are not good enough". It’s pretty obvious who is on which side.
This month, I want to develop most of the ideas in my notes app into fully fleshed stories. I’m even a bit excited to work on this totally vulnerable personal essay I have a feeling I’m not totally going to enjoy writing or publishing, but I will. So like they say, watch this space (hopefully).
Putting this out here: I’m proud of myself for getting here because all I have been doing for a while is write, delete or just abandon ship. Go me!
Also, I’m happy that I’m having happy days and would be happier if you clapped, commented, and shared!😉 Thank you, for always.
