24.7 Mind FM
Playing every thought you own, all day, everyday. Originally posted on May 29th 2022
5:01am
Jolted back to reality, my alarm that had successfully penetrated my dream has successfully ended my sleep. It was a good dream, one of the few in many nights. Swiping to switch off the alarm, I have two choices. Return or utilize the last hour of my “unlimited night plan”.
I open YouTube.
5:10 am
I have accomplished my routine task of watching the latest video of my favorite YouTubers at a speed of x1.5. Time to listen to for the 53rd time, Kendrick’s new album. Yes I’ve been counting.
5:35am
Three songs into the album, I’m wishing I had more data to download this album and a lot more. To avoid exhausting the dopamine I get from this album I switch to some Mac Miller, another rapper I’m addicted to for obvious reasons.
5:46am
Less than 15 minutes till the end of my night plan, and few minutes before the family wakes for Morning devotion. I stumble upon Obongjayar, the sound is new, different, yet familiar and really close to home. I blame my love for the unconventional, always brings something new to me, it is always welcome. I’m reminded of someone, people, times that I’m overly nostalgic of. Odd, considering this music isn’t about that kind of stuff. I find myself needing to smoke a cigarette. I don’t do that at home, and I was sure I quit last month. But this music is doing things. Good things I dare say. The hedonist in me must indulge. I’m obliged to get intoxicated off this good thing for as long as I can.
5:55am
Good things, they say, must come to an end. Like clockwork, the street evangelist can be heard somewhere across the street with promises of damnation and repentance. I wonder how many souls he’s saved with this method.
Engrossed in this new sound I realize this habit is becoming somewhat therapeutic for me. Moving back home meant a lot of things. One being the proximity to a gym to deal with my demons was non-existent anymore.
“Tochukwu, il est temps de prier”
The messenger is gone as soon as the message is passed. My younger brother. One would think he vanishes with how swift he can be on his feet. I put away my earphones, switch off my data and put my phone on vibrate. I stare at my reflection in the mirror as I exit the bedroom. One word, disheveled. I enjoy this look way too much for someone who has work that entails looking prim and proper. Credit scenes roll in my head as I approach the growing sound of gospel music, marking the end of my imaginary show. We go again tomorrow.
But today, Otutu Oma.
Obonjayar- musician with a phenomenal sound. listen to him, you’re welcome.
Otutu Oma- good morning