Dear Friend,

This will be the most chaotic thing I have ever written.

Are you a Dom or a Sub? Have you ever thought about it? LMAO. Are you EVEN into BDSM(lite)? Batman is into BDSM. Definitely, Hard-core. You have thought about it, don’t blush now. The leather suits, the cuffs, the utility belt (*wink wink*). Most likely a switch; Wonderwoman’s plaything with her lasso, Catwoman’s Daddy Bat punishing her with her whip. Or vice versa. Switches are so hot.

I am fascinated with chaos and control. I find myself always courting chaos and then craving control when it seems like all hell is indeed about to break loose. Procrastinating till I can feel the deadline breathing down my neck, packing the morning of a flight, counting how many five more minutes I cram into my morning till I am late for work. I am creating my own precipice that I can live on the edge of; I am in control.

I am probably exaggerating how much I love to court chaos - a recent trip to the airport just short of my two-hour ‘buffer’ time had me freaking out the length of the way there. And till the plane finally took off. If I can assure you only one thing, let me assure you this: when push comes to shove, I will always choose control. If I cannot guarantee to a frightening extent the outcome of an event, activity, I will just not do it. This reads like the exact opposite of someone living dangerously. Life is full of contradictions. I can’t explain it to myself either.

Got the text that my driver’s license is ready a couple of days ago. Some days, before I head out, I pause to remind myself that all I have to do is bring myself back home. There are still too many things not within my control, even from the driver’s seat. I have the wheel, the only means through which I can exert control on my goal to get back home. The rest is in the hands of the universe, the nigerian police, and my fellow frustrated nigerians. I will collect the license next week Thursday, Friday, give it about a week, and some; don’t want to appear too eager.

Call me lazy, and I am, but I have a problem with people that suggest vaguely that other people have no sense of urgency. Unless in medical emergencies, I see nothing in life that should demand from me, at all times, my immediate attention. We are all still going to die, gaddamnit! Let me breathe.

I came across a video on Instagram: a 30sec/1min trick to improve mental strength, it said. When overwhelmed before doing anything, write the things you can control and those you can’t control; focus on the things you can control. I have only found that the things within my control seem to be shrinking each day. At the start of each day, it has begun to feel like I am only in control of the steering wheel - to bring myself back home.

I took a break from Twitter in October in a bid to assess what things were really under my control and to just exert control over my environment. Twitter has the uncanny ability to amplify my fears and overwhelm me. The effect is usually paralyzing and can often leave me feeling like I am just going through the motions. I threw myself into work, started taking the Google Project Management Professional Certificate Course, and escaped into the valleys of Calderon and the political corridors of Alera. I am officially unemployed going into the new year, and trying my hand at a new career path following the most challenging year in my existence, yet - cause I said that last year and bruh. I also dread the first few weeks of January every year, so there’s that to look towards. I am curious to see how much the break has helped to teach me control? I wonder if I take another break in two weeks.

I like control; I am not a control freak; I have problems exerting control. I am rather good at respecting boundaries. I hate to make others uncomfortable; the mere sign that I might be overstepping and I withdraw all the way back. For me, control is about creating environments where I feel safe; I would so hate to make another person feel unsafe, in an environment/situation they feel they have no control over.

If I was driving in Lagos, I might be dead now. Spent the afternoon before Christmas navigating the Area 1 roundabout for the first time - in peak traffic hours. I was chooking my head, cutting my hand, the whole works. Almost hit, and got hit by a couple of drivers with way more eagerness and experience than myself. All this because I was summoned to see one of my guys; the things I do for love. Sigh

I am celebrating every little obvious thing about getting to grips with driving - if that was not obvious. It feels like I am each day constantly dealing with my anxiety, intrusive thoughts, and dealing with my control troubles. And with each completion of my deliverable - don’t crash the car; in reaching my daily goal - get back home safely, I feel safer about facing the next day. A little more confident about my ability to exert as much control as humanly feasible.

I like the word deliverable (n). I started using it a lot more after my decision to take on Project Management. I am halfway through the courses and find myself thoroughly engaged by the material, and excited by the opportunity to gain some entry level experience into the space. I am taking a break now though; I ran into the budgets part of the course and panicked - numbers stress me. I can sit with them and slowly work my way through them but the work is tedious and doesn’t fulfil me? I am seem at odds with it somehow.

I am also panicking because I am aware of my vast dearth of skills, and my lack of practical knowledge. I would like a mentor but I am so terribly scared of being a burden to someone with more important things to do, and wasting their time. I know myself. There will be days where my mind and body won’t allow me to show up, where I will self doubt myself into a ton of mistakes, and days where one will see some spark in me that feels a waste and then I’d be a disappointment. I would hate to disappoint anyone who invests time and kindness into me.

Safe words. I always wonder, considering the way life is fucking me royally, about safe words. They have been preached as the submissive’s way of having some modicum of control during the experience. I do not agree. The power of the safe word resides in the trust that the submissive has placed in the dominant, and the dominant’s response to that trust. They offer the illusion of control, which oftentimes (in the hands of a kind and respectful dominant) can heighten the experience, and just that.

Safe words are not about control. They are about vulnerability, and trusting the other party to respect that vulnerability and respond to it responsibly, with respect and kindness. Life has no safe words. I do not trust life to acknowledge my vulnerability and respond with pleasurable kindness; if anything, from experience, life responds to vulnerability with an insidious form of violence - often plunging one farther into the abyss. I wonder if death is the body’s only response to having its safe words ignored. I do not know; I just want a break.

Driving is a constant reminder: you can only really control what you can control, really. Sounds rather obvious but I clearly need the reminder considering how much it seems like I am drowning each time I try to take a breath.

Will you forgive me? This is a day late but I had too much to drink over the past days, titrated rather perfectly, that I can almost feel my brain cells stand up, one by one, and sign out from work. And that’s the thing about control: in exerting my control over my immediate future - tipsy and swaying in front of my uncle’s TV, I was relinquishing control of a later future - writing this letter to you in time. I am still learning the delicate balance, of knowing when to push or pull, when to press on or yield, when to exert control and when to relinquish it. I also genuinely have no idea what I am doing. I just want to feel a little safer without feeling so afraid? I do not know.

In the end, this isn’t as chaotic as I thought; each word curated consciously, each sentence carefully crafted. Doroga is right after all: that one is called something, does not mean that one is that thing. I have been rereading Codex Alera - what an adventure. Maybe I can use the ginger to finally read the Malazan books; third attempt needs to be the charm.

How are you doing, friend? I can only hope that the days have been kind to you, and wish that they be kinder still in these coming days. I hope you can get some time to yourself to breathe over the holidays. It will all be there when you exhale; take a pause and then a deep breath. Then four more. Let’s go again, yeah?

It’s the last week of the year! Have a soft one. Enjoy the holidays, friend!

Are you a Dom or a Sub? Have you ever thought about it? Are you EVEN into BDSM(lite)? Switch. Obviously. (lite).

Signing off to Cast (Gen Z Anthem) by Arya Starr:

“if i cast then i cast, yeah

anythin’ wey wan sup, go sup”

Sine Cera

Osondu

Thank you for reading all the way to the end. If you would love this delivered to your (email) address just like a letter, then don’t forget to sign up here. Cheers!

Subscribe now