A wonderful day to you all!
This is about first impression and all that jazz about putting one’s best foot forward. I’m not one for keeping up appearances but I am not so much of a cynic to botch my own opportunity at making a grand entrance. I understand that a good impression goes a long way in forging a lasting relationship, like a gathering momentum that set the pace. I’m out to make a good one, best foot forward, eyes on the mark.
This is about starting a blog, not much ado! I have a mental picture of a literary blog structured with artistic graffiti on my mind that I want transplanted in your mind by the time this maiden post is finished, but to finish the invariable rule is to get started. Right?
So this is how I get started.
My name is OLADIMEJI Oluwole E. My friends and family call me Wole. In the course of time, you will meet my alter ego, Midas. I can’t tell you much about Midas. I hardly know him myself. He is a non-descript guy, very enigmatic. With him though what you see is what you get, a straight-shooter, that guy is. Let’s not delve into my weird world with this ,maiden post because of course I see things, I hear voices, I assume roles like a MPD patient, I have grouses with the world, tempers that flare but I haven’t slashed my wrist yet or taken an overdose. I must admit, though that those things have crossed my mind at one point or the other. I hope you have experienced some of these emotions for my own sake. Have you?
You see, I like to think that I am like everyone else, but the question is am I?
I could tease myself that these emotions are so general as not to be worth setting down , were it not that strong affection lose nothing by being shared with the whole world.
I haven’t broken a leg trying to shoot the President; no pun intended. I don’t know how an IED works. I still have enough sense or rather will for self-preservation and the sanctity of the human life. Heck, I feel guilty scraping the bones of chicken or tearing the fleshy lap. The reason why I have not gone the way of the vegetarian is probably because the goose and the gander are on the same equity plan in my book. I like my vegies and my beef. I am just a part of the intricate chain of feeding, right there on the pyramidal apex. If I didn’t eat em, I’ll offset the entire system. I wish I didn’t study Biology so well and wild-life documentaries are not so engrossing,
Well, one of the reasons why this blog came to be is to find Midas –my paranormal complement. It is of the many surprises and nuances from Midas repertoire that I dip. It is from that well that I beg to write. Much of the things I know about me are subject to the disproportionate view of an egotist. You deserve better than to be exposed to that skewed view. In due course, I believe you will be able to forge a personal image of me in your mind.
Short and simple, Wole. Get to the point!
It’s one o’clock in the morning. I am staring at my PC Screen hunting in the primordial nowhere for a game. All is dark and quiet. I feel like God on the cusp of creation about to pronounce those four eternal words. I see Eden. My hands wait patiently, my heart flutters anxiously.
Blank. The screen is still blank. My thoughts are in disarray.
Impressions are spoilers.
Think less and act. Write.
About what? Everything, anything, even of this blank screen in front of you.
This is why writing is so much fun for me. I get to talk to myself a lot and I’m unabashed about it. Writing methinks is one of those crafts that allows for many eccentricities. I want to lay it bare here on this blank surface. This is why I write, this is where I hide. It is also where I bask.
Writing is many things for me. I do with a drooping pen what others do with the punching bag. I sup from the freshness of lettered words when the ramblings of everyday life become bland in speech and jaded in the hearing. My pen is a rudder in the fervent tide of emotions that wash over me, intent on throwing me off the delicate arc of sanity. When I write, I see a lighthouse in the sea of life, a safe harbor on earth’s inclement shores. It is the way I make sense out of the world. My plum receptacle is in this art, my roots veinously buried therein. The nectary of arts feed my passion. My gallantry plumes are steeped in the womb of creativity. I am God in this arena and I have the final say. When I wield my pen, or tap on the QWERTY tabs, I command the forces to get into their roles and they oblige me.
This is why this blog came to be. Midasplace.wordpress.com is that placebo, the back scratcher that relieves me of the primal itch at my back, just at that point outside my reach. You should know that feeling. It isn’t as simple as scratching away at the spot and unfortunately nobody can do it for you either. They don’t apply enough pressure or they just miss the spot altogether. Now, you would have to find yourself the sharpest edge of a wall, position yourself gingerly and scratch away with an almost hedonistic gyration! I haven’t found that wall edge sharp enough to bring a relief. What I have found is a back scratcher – those long plastic designed after the human claws with long handles. A place of my personal hermitage where words like fine bristles plow this space, and sow thoughts and ideas from this private strain on the vast field of life. Life abhors a vacuum; I am an agent of life. I know I am alive. I feel alive! This knowledge reaffirms my kinship with the creator. No, it rightfully endorses me as a creator to speak light in the face of utter darkness, something out of nothing, order out of chaos.
On the tiny speck of my imagination a blog was conceived, birthed and christened.
And the blog was a pluripotent vacuum, a stable for essays, poetry, prose and sundry issues.
A place to be…
If my life were to be summed up, it would be one volume too many.
There is nothing simple about me. I am a simple man entrenched in the complexity of the world.