LOVE AND OTHER PSYCHOACTIVE SUBSTANCES: THE END.

This concludes the "love and blah blah blah" series. If you've missed the initial two installments, check CLICK ME! for series one and CLICK ME! CLICK ME! for series two. That should take care of everyone, us "Kardashian-speakers" included.

8. I LOVE IRONY

Oh yes, it really does.

I love picking out irony. I had great joy figuring out that Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie was being ironical (unknowingly of course) when she gave that Single Story talk on TED. She believes the West have a certain tailor-made keyhole into which they fit the African key. There cannot be any other door; no other key. And thanks to this model, Chimamanda fulfils the role of the perpetually overly emotive female African writer, whose pitiful characters the white man and woman will readily relate to, because after all, isn't this the single story of female (especially) African writers?

The reader was not required […] to admit that a book by a Negro author might challenge not just the conscience but the intellect.

                                             -  Stephen L. Carter (Palace Council)

Thanks to globalization, that perception is gradually changing. At least, some white dude somewhere, by looking on the internet will believe that we actually know how to use iPhones in “Africa”, that giant single country all the Hollywood and music stars keep visiting. I’d like to visit North America someday. Perhaps I just mean the USA after all. Blondes, the lot of them.

Okay, we are so way off course we might as well be in the USA now, that is if you’re not @moji_uche. I was at CDS (Community Development Service) a few months ago. Yeah, that CDS is some fancy name the NYSC gives to the socializing that happens in the name of community development, at least, in my LG here in Lagos. Some dude – one of us – proceeds to lecture us about the mutual exclusivity, or not, of money and relationships. God bless the dude. He probably has a public speaking career in front of him. Like I have stated before, I’m the cynic to end all cynicism in the world. I’m that cynical. Our dear dude rambles on using choice words and all of that, and I’m in fact listening. I naturally disagreed with many of his notions as the ramblings of a book warrior, who hasn’t had much experience in the things he speaks about. This same dude believes experience isn’t the best teacher. Fair enough. Whatever works for you.

Now, I’ll cut to the chase. This dude says to us all that it would be foolhardy to take marriage advice from a divorcee. Fair enough, except that at the most inappropriate times, my mind works in overdrive. I think that a divorcee would offer good marriage advice. Why? Simple. That divorcee will have enough things to tell you on what not to do so that you don’t end up like him/her. That divorcee will tell you what he might have done to avoid that situation. Now, the reason for the first paragraph – irony. If my dear dude believes someone that has tried and failed has no opinion on a subject, how about someone that hasn’t tried at all? This dude is probably my age and has no ring on his finger - proper recipe for an unmarried fellow. How dare he, going by his logic, offer me relationship advice? That’s just some plain irony. This is why I love science. You cannot state a principle and then flout it later on, perhaps unknowingly. The result will tell you there’s been an error somewhere. It’s like logic in programming. Follow it consistently or you’re fucked. Excuse my Mandarin.

9. FUNNY THAT I MENTION THIS

which or which?

CAVEAT: Here’s an unsolicited piece of advice that will probably end up not working for you. Mind.

There’s an initial assumption that you have now broken up and another assumption that perhaps you’re the vanquished. You are pissed at the institution of love, you hate the sight of everyone in the world that hasn’t broken up, and most importantly, you hate your ex, bajebaje. LOL at you, but don’t worry, you’re perfectly human. It’s allowed.

Problem is, you used to love your ex, right? You probably still do, yeah? Good. Another problem is that “love” you had has, for all intents and purposes, turned to be a huge waste of time and useful energy. Your ex has tidied you and moved ahead. Well, maybe not, but hey, they broke up with you after all, this assumption is probably 80% right.

Pay attention here. Closely.

Now you hate your ex shey? They are everything wrong with today’s world, right? Grrrr. You could strangle the mopho/mophess. You spend time thinking about the best ways to caress the carotid artery so your ex becomes limp. You’re at your most creative at this point. Your brain is working overdrive. The hate is palpable now, but you still love them. You mellow again. But damn, if you could just get hold…

Are you still paying attention?

Broken-hearted niggas and niggarettes, you are wasting more and more time and energy. On the one hand, you love. On the other, you hate (or close). Both these emotions are rather energy consuming, and require some measure of “dwelling-upon” time. You’re losing emotional energy through every orifice in your body. The love, you can’t particularly help. The hate (or close)… oh yes you can handle that. And how you go about hating whom you claimed to love once doesn’t exactly baffle me. I kid, you bet it does… except if this person we’re on about tried to kill you (or something close).

10. RANDOM GIST

oh yeah...

a.       Never make the mistake of believing that giving a gift entitles you to anything. Boys and girls, take note.

b.      Logic is many times irrelevant in love. Actions just don’t make sense. Try to understand the much you can, and when stymied, just tint the rest, unless you’re willing to retain the services of a very good psychoanalyst.

c.       Holding back ensures that you don’t enjoy love as you should. Then again, giving all ensures that you might become an emotional wreck afterwards. Glass half full or glass half empty; I don’t know which to choose for you. Stick to whatever works for you.

d.      There’s such a thing as karma. Whether it bites for all to see, or whether it bites you where we can’t see, it will definitely bite. Be careful what fodder you feed to karma’s cattle. The fat thereof…

e.      You know you want to kiss and tell. You only just tout the “I don’t kiss and tell” slogan. If you don’t want to, why do you girls sing to your girlfriends about that boy (or those boys, more often), and why can’t you boys keep shut about your conquests? It’s natural to share. It’s not your fault. Your great grandma¹⁰⁰⁰, Eve, did too. Guess that’s where we all got it from.