I should explain about now, why it is I was still single at this time and ended up going to prostitutes for sex. Until now, its not at all for lack of trying, but more because of my romance philosophy. If I begin trying to make a connection with a girl I find attractive, and there is any indication at all from her, that she is not interested, I back off and continue on my own journey. I never did believe in the other philosophy that a girl or woman demands that you keep persisting until you break down the walls of her heart. If she is not interested at first sight, that’s enough for me because any good woman in my opinion should have good judgement from the beginning, if she’s interested in going further or not. Her mind should not be weak that once she has made her judgement, some (arrogant) guy just override it with persistence. I say arrogant, because that would be arrogant attitude. “I don’t care what she says, I’m going to override her will”. Romance should be mutual interest and attraction, not just one person doing all the work to make it happen. It should not be an acquired taste. The best foods, drinks and everything else you love most in your life are not acquired at all. You were goo goo immediately you encountered, so romance most of all should not be acquired, otherwise, the devil has misled you. And so, every single lady I encountered and had interest in, at some point indicated they are not interested at all, and certainly nowhere near the amount of interest I had. I was always “head over heels” when I met a beautiful girl, and they seemed annoyed because of that. I also believe that a beautiful girl should be able to make the first move, if she finds herself attracted. In this current world it seems somewhat forbidden. Even with solid evidence of failure in the area of romance, it was impossible for me to change my phillosophy concerning that. I would remain womanless until I died if that was the case, and I did not care. It was quite a puzzle for me though, how these women could easily resist me, given how handsome I knew I was. My shortness alone could never account for the reason.
life was so so good when I returned to my house in Bethlehem, PA. As soon as I received my car from the shipping company, I was very very happy, mostly playing tennis in those days. I made a very important decision to turn my life around by removing any things I intuitively felt were bad in my life. For me there were just two such things - 1) watching porn, 2) eating animals that were killed for that. I took all the porn videos I had left and burned them in the basement, and completely stopped eating any kind of animal. Meat, fish, chicken, etc. I felt a kind of happiness doing this, but my will power to stop eating animals was not strong enough at the time. Within three months, I was back eating chicken, and then meat and fish. I kept it in mind though, that I would try to quit again in the future, when I can find the will power. I was however able to stay away from porn for the time being ( ended up lasting three years ).
I met a bunch of children at the high school where I went to play tennis. Not children from the school, but children who lived in the neighborhood of the school, around ages 8 to 12, but maybe one or two were 15 or so. I bought many childrens racquets and began playing with them a lot. I bought a tennis ball machine from Amazon. It was too much fun. The kids loved it a lot too. I never had so much fun in my life. I also got in the habit of watching LMN on TV (I used Direct TV in those days). I really *loved* the movies on LMN. Soooo interesting. I also joined a table tennis club at the YMCA in Allentown. I also had a table tennis table in my basement, which I bought a tt robot for, The “robot” is just a ball machine, which you fill a bucket with balls, and it will throw them at your side of the table in professional level style spins. I loved playing it very mych, but hated picking all the balls after it has finished throwing them from the bucket. Because I had no one to play with in the basement most of the time, when I was done playing with the ball machine, I would practice my serve. My serve became one of the strongest parts of my game. Most of all, I continued making music a lot with my synthesizer and computer. I had bought one of those speakers they sold at music stores in San Diego and brought it back with me to Bethlehem (a single big speaker). My Ghannian friend Gabbi had been living in my house while I was in Chula Vista CA. He continued living there when I came back. Sometimes when I’m jamming my music the room (which I dedicated to music only), he would be on the sofa, clapping his hands. It was such a good time at first, but after one and a half years or so, at the end of 2004, we had a falling out. The problem was that I began to notice an odor in his room, and I was very concerned my house would begin to smell in that way, and I would be totally unable to remove the smell. I really hate bad smells in the house, and my house was very naturally fresh smelling in those days. It was hard for me, but I had to ask him about it at some point. I did not want to hurt his feelings, but I thought we could work together to resolve the issue, like true friends. When I broached the subject with him, I said “have you noticed an odor coming from your room?", He got very angry, and said he would leave the house. He was gone within 2 days or so. I did not want to see him go and was upset a bit that he did not instead choose to work it out with me. In late 2004, my uncle died. He is the father of Niyi, my cousin I mentioned earlier that seemingly was trying to get me together with that beautiful liberian girl that said to him “you are a salsemen”. They expected me to go to Nigeria, but I sensed it was just a wicked spirit from MWH that was trying to make me spend money so I would have to go back to work quickly. I decided I would not go, and save my money instead. I have never been big into funerals anyway, as I believe it is when someone is alive, you show love and respect. After they have died, nothing matters anymore, except to know you will see them again someday. A funny thing happened in late 2003 or early 2004, after I fled that bad job in CA (MWH). I was back in PA, one day watching TV, a small visible frame popped out of the TV and George Bush was there, saying "please come back... we'll show compassion". I swear I'm not lying at all, it was so weird. Could he be talking to me? Anyway I dismissed it and continued about my business/leisure. Not long after papa Niyi’s death, enitan called one day, but got my voice mail. He left a message, saying something like he wants to tell me what our response should be to Niyi and his brothers/mother, concerning papa Niyi’s death. The message had a “serious” and “commanding” tone, not at all in a friendly/brotherly way. When I heard it, I was furious. Since when did any one of us children, begin to tell another one, how to react or what to say? Total madness. I shouted out in the room “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? I knew it was another attempt by him to try to dominate me. Shortly after my rant, he called again, and I picked up, and he did not say anything like ‘what our response should be’, but instead made a comment to make me know he heard my rant somehow. Once he hung up, I knew it was a subtle hint to let me know he has powers I may not know about. My reaction was that I know enitan very well, and is not a person to be admired, so I don’t care what power he may have, I will never respect him the way he was looking for - meaning above myself. When Niyi got back from his dads funeral, he called me one time and mentioned that he wasn’t angry at all that I did not attend, but his brothers were more angry about that. I though to myself “who gives a fuck?” but said nothing. He proceeded to tell me that a woman my dad was having an affair with, by name of Mabel ( I knew her very well in Nigeria before I left. She was a theatre arts student, who stayed in our “boys quaters” for a while in the days I was alone in Nigeria with my dad ). Niyi said he wanted to help her come to America to better her life, and that I was the “magic bullet” to make that happen, by marrying her to get her a green card. I totally dismissed the idea on the spot. I would never do such a thing, regardless of how close people thought she was to my dad.
I used to roller blade a lot in those days too, and I got in the habit of tuning to a radio station on Saturday nights to a station that played a lot of Disco in the evening. I would be playing the music very loud in the house while roller blading and singing. It was so much fun. The next day after Gabbi left, there were some strange things including a dead rat in my washing machine. My thoughts again were of voodoo. How did the rat get into my washer with the lid closed? It was smelling bad. I thought Gabi and his people had done some voodoo in anger. I tried everything in the world to get the smell out of the washer, after removing the rat, the smell did not go completely. I even soaked the washer in some chemicals including bleach for a couple days. Still smelling. I had no choice but to use it like that, and my clothes and bedsheets etc were smelling a bit of that dead rat. I thought their voodoo had gone deep in my things, and was not removable. Aftrer a week or two, I found the severed head of a squirell on my front door mat just outside the door. I thought it was a warning from very wicked people. As I was picking it up, I felt so sorry for the squirell, I said “poor squirell”. I burried the head and some of the other parts of it that were torn viciously as if by a very angry violent force, and scattared around the front yard area. This did not happen only once, but maybe 3 times. I started to think it was my former bosses from MWH, because they were itallian, I thought they may be part of some mafia family and were very angry at how I left them. One day, while driving close to the house, there was a very large colorful bird or parrot, dead in the middle of the road. Again I thught it was very odd, and also a sign to me, or threat. I ignored it. In those days, I used to masturbate all the time. I sorta noticed my dick got a little softer and rubbery, like it was growing bigger. I thought it may be some kind of process I was going through related to the twist in my foot that went up to my lower back and the purpose of it was to give me a bigger dick. At some point when masturbating, I was dissappointed with how little it seemed to have grown, and muttered out loud while masturbating “is this what I suffered so much for?”. It was only a small part of me that felt that way though. At some point, my cousin Niyi called and we spoke for a while. He began to mention to me that I should NOT keep mastubating, and I should try going to a brothel or massage palor instead. I was angry with him in my mind, but just totally ridiculed the idea to him. I did not like him anymore in my mind and dubbed him “massage palor Niyi” in jest. Strange things continued to happen. One morning after a night of roller blading to disco music the night before, I heard a voice say in ,my head “don’t you have any remourse?”. I thought it was concerning my uncle, and wondered “why would I have remourse? Did I kill him or something?”.
One day, around 2005, after staying away from my brother enitan, since coming back from San Diego, I decided to go visit him. At one point, we were in the kitchen, and he was eating something that contained chicken. When he started chewing on the chicken leg, he did it in such an animalistic way, that his wife mentioned in protest "see how you are eating the chicken". He replied "Ahh it is sweet now". I'm not sure what we were discussing, but the topic turned to spirituality, and enitan mentioned that most people, when real trouble comes, would abandon their belief in Jesus and christianity and go for more home bred beliefs. I thought to myself, what a lack of faith in Jesus and power of good. It means he himself does not believe in that, but has more faith in the forces of evil.
Some time after that visit, one evening, I was sitting in front of the garage, and suddenly started feeling strange, as well as having difficulty breathing. I quickly went into the house and lay on my bed. I suddenly felt something that felt physical, but was surely spiritual, like a strong, sharp knife slashing my throat inside, from the top right, down to the bottom left. Because it felt like I was about to die, I said a short prayer, thanking God for my wonderful though short life. I was truley greateful, and ready to go. Aftrer about 15 minutes, it all went away, and I was fine again. I thought “wow, I think I just escaped death somehow”. Another day, while masturbating on my bed, in the middle of the act, suddenly something like a spirit I could feel somewhat, came from my legs area, and I could feel deep anger from it, it very angrily moved very fast from my legs area to my loins, and grabbed what felt like my “spiritual" dick, and yanked it off completely, like ripping it away very angrily, then buzzed, moving viciously, as it made its way up to my chest area and almost my head, and then disappeared. I was very scared. I had never experienced a spirit that felt almost tangible, and that deep anger. I thought God was very angry because after having sex with real women ( the prostitutes ), I have now reverted back to masturbating. I decided though that my resolve never to have sex with prostitutes was greater than anything else, so I thought “let God be angry, I will not go to prostitutes. Is he not responsible somehow for not allowing me to get a girlfriend? If he was so concerned, he would have let that happen instead. Why would he want me to be going to prostitutes, where the girls are most likely coerced. If it was God then he was somewhat evil and I planned to resist him”. At first I thought he had ripped off all my dick, including the physical one, but when I checked, it was still there. Not long after that, I developed a lung issue again with breathing problems. One mind kept telling me I should go to the hospital to check it out, another said it would be a mistake to do so, like I’m giving in to the wicked spirit that is trying to get me. Eventually I got in my car, and still somewhat undecided, I drove around for a while, and then eventually decided to go to the hospital. When I got to the hospital, I registered and started waiting. While waiting I was still contemplating if it was a mistake to come to the hospital. Something was telling me they would just say there is nothing wrong with me, when I know for sure there is something going on. After maybe 45 minutes, they had not called me, so I finally decided its better to go home and deal with the issue myself. As soon as I got up, a man came out and called my name. I followed him. At some point, they put me on a gurney and the man was wheeling me to the observation room. While wheeling me he was looking at me, and started winking. The winking was exactly like Bill Schiraldi, my former boss from MWH. As though I should know who he is. I did not react at all, but pretended that was not happening. They took X-rays and did their analysis, and he told me “there is nothing wrong with your lungs, or anything”. He showed me the X-ray. I went home thinking I should have listened to the voice that said exactly that would happen, and not gone in the first place. Then again, at least I knew for sure now.
Another day, while lying in my room, I began to have a “sinking” feeling, and then it felt like a certain “layer” of myself, between my body and spirit I guess, was being burned off. I perceived the smell of what I could only call “fumes from hell”. In my mind, I thought this means I am sinking into hell because of my involvement with prostitutes.
At some point, I started getting some spells of “dizziness”, like I was moving from one physical realm to another. With all the things that had been going on, I felt maybe I was being dragged into hell of sorts, and it would be wise to kill myself before the process is complete, so I can go to heaven instead. There was a tall bridge in Allentown, that went over railroad tracks far below, and the thought in my head was to just go there and jump off to the tracks below to end it all. I just could not bring myself to do that though, then one night something I believed to be a spirit drove me out of my house. I got in the car and started driving, and it sort of made me go over that bridge. When I was right over it, I heard some frantic banging on the back of my car, like the spirit was urgently telling me this is where I should stop and jump off the bridge. I could not obey it, and just kept on driving straight home. At home, I sat on a chair in front of the TV and was contemplating, if I should indeed find a way to end my life. When I asked inside me, my heart started beating faster, as if to say “yes”, but still I just couldn’t bring myself to do it, so I just kept on moving ahead, to see what would happen next. Shortly after that, again while lying in bed, I thought I was hearing a voice physically like outside my head, but no one was there. A thought in my head came, saying to go visit my sister in New York city, as she would know something about this. In a way, I thought she was summoning me urgently regarding the things that were going on. I got in my car and drove to NYC, to see my sister, Oruene.
{Look out for part two, starting from when I got to Oruene’s house in NYC early 2006, to when I left America for Nigeria in 2024}
You can click this link for part two
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