Diary of a lazy writer 3

Dear diary,
I looked and I saw that truth hurts.

I have so much to say all at once.  I'm so overwhelmed even as I write this.
Diary,  there are so many things that are important in life.  Someone might opine that everything is important to different persons.  Let me just rant.

So I didn't go to school today because I went to pay my tuition fee.  I ended up talking to a certain wise man.  He shot arrows of truth at me.  I was furious at first because I felt like he was condemning me, judging me.  At intervals,  the mini-me inside would concur with what he said. At some points,  mini me ran around the labyrinth of my heart,  my brain,  searching for excuses and people to blame for the misfortune I'm in.  You see,  some times,  many times,  people do not condemn or judge us,  it's the knowledge, awareness that they speak the truth that makes us condemn ourselves.  We then turn around again and want to blame the person for judging us.
Man is easily steered to irresponsibility.

I feel bad right now.  I feel bad lots of times.  I'm not a sad person.  I just...  Have a lot of shortcomings and it's not easy facing them and taking responsibility.
Brian Tracy in his book,  No Excuses,  said that the first step to becoming disciplined is to take responsibility for everything we do.
Well,  that's what I'm doing.
Usually,  I wouldn't write these things here but who knows,  maybe redemption has other people to visit and perhaps,  these words will lead the way.

I feel really bad.

I can't even begin to trace the origin of my carelessness.  But here are some things,  areas I messed up in.
¤ Association.  You are who you hang out with.  I got careless here.  Not like I started hanging out with the ones we would call riff-raffs,  no.  But I guess I started hanging out with people who had gotten too careless too.
¤ Information : because I write,  I exposed my mind to really dangerous stuff.  Not porn,  no.  But there are worse things than porn.  For me,  anything  that can destabilize the mind,  that can shake our convictions is dangerous.  I let in too much.
Here's a lesson.  Knowledge is good but you should only know so much.  Take in what you can process at your level.  Again,  censor the kind of knowledge you take in.  All things are lawful but not all things are expedient.  Say word!
¤Discipline: I probably shouldn't list this separately but the reason I started this diary in the first place-with its captionis because I became undisciplined.  I actually became lazy.

As an aside,  a part of me is thinking of how this post might draw traffic but truth is that I don't care!  I'm hurt.

I'll talk more about this later.  Let me start salvaging what I can.  I've got to gather with brethren.

Yours in pain,
Me.

Share:

Read More

SOUNDS OF YON: My companion by Ada Thelma

Photocredit: colourbox.com

MY COMPANION
I need a companion, 
Someone with whom to share my opinion, 
If the enemies send their minions, 
I'll chop their heads in bits like onions.
If they try to break my union with my companion, 
I'll send them to oblivion, 
See,  I'll set their minds in pandemonium. 

I need a companion, 
Someone I could rely on,
A caring shoulder to lean on, 
Someone I could bond with like mother and son, 
One in whose arms I feel reborn, 
One in whose presence sorrow will be gone, 
One who would make me feel no sadness,  indeed none.

Help me find a companion,
find one with the heart of a Lion.
Find one with convictions as strong as Zion
find one fairer than a dandelion.
Find me a friend. 

Share:

Read More

Voice of gods

Photo credit : orishaimage.com.

Voice of gods

So you began to believe, 
You were foolish,  worthless, 
You never did anything right, 
Never could. 
You believed because your father said so,
Your faith gave him his voice. 

That day Nnanna smiled at you, 
Even the next day you greeted him, 
And he replied "what's up? "
That day you told Esther about a bespectacled boy,
The one who caught butterflies, 
And set them free in the pit of your stomach, 
That day She told you he liked you too, 
You believed because she said so,
Your faith made her a god. 

That day too you heard,  
That day you saw Esther's round belly-bulge,
When they said 'Nnanna' and 'father' in one sentence,
That day the workers in your head screamed 'betrayal', 
A voice spoke inside, 
"Life never gives anything good,
Goodness is mined"
You believed because you told yourself to. 

That other day too, 
8years had rolled by, 
A young man sat in your office, 
That day you told him his sight was bad, 
The same day you convinced him, 
You told him bad was the new best, 
You told him he could live in paradise even with the worst vision, 
And he nodded in faith: "yes doctor"
because you were the god before him, 
Infusing pints of belief into him. 

And so it is,
That many be the voices we hear. 
Some said you were worthless, 
Some spewed lies like lines of fine linen, 
Some said you could not rise, 
That "we are cursed"
They told tales of woe, 
"Life is a bucket of dirty water'
They coaxed you to have faith
They made you want to believe 
But you couldn't, 
Because you had lost your faith. 

Note the voice of gods. 
The earth is for gods 
Voices that persuade us to do,  to believe, 
The hands with the wands, 
Directing the course of our thoughts, 
Like the music director of an orchestra.

Voice of gods, 
Human gods, 
The ones we crown with our faith, 
The ones that brew bitterness and despair, 
The ones with the loudest voices. 
But we can dethrone these gods, 
And they would lose their voices. 
Because even we are gods. 

Share:

Read More

Diary of a Lazy Writer 2

Sunday, 17th June,  2018.

Dear diary, 

How art thou?  Me?  Yo soy bueno. Yo soy Caliente! 😀😀😀 I hope I got it.  I just remembered that from years ago. One girl that was claiming to teach me Spanish online sha.  I just hope I haven't insulted somebody's mother.  It's been a while,  I know.  You can dub me Sir Laziness,  knight of the kingdom of lazy writers.  Oh pardon me.  I'm hungry.  #yawns. 

The past week was so unfruitful,  to say the least.  I don't know if I was in a conscious coma or something.  It felt like someone was remote-controlling my body while I watched from somewhere. I just couldn't get myself to do anything productive.  Kai.  I think... Whoa!  No thinking for now.  It's raining cats and stones here...

I'm sleepy. 

So this is what I learned this week. 

* We should appreciate the seemingly little things because they make up the big things. 

* Being in a dark place isn't so bad.  That's where we learn what to do in the light, what the light means. Only bad thing is when you overstay in the dark.  I pray you understand me.
*If you can avoid being in a dark place,  please do.  The light is a better place,  always. 

*Laziness is bad, very bad! 

I'm sleepy. 

Maybe I should stop here before I write something stupid. I promise I'd write you again,  soon. 

Good night for now.

Yours specially, 

Me. 

Share:

Read More

Heart to Heart by Okechi Favour Chinonso

I didn't want to think. Hell, I didn't need to think. I could not think. I could only feel- The pain of a thousand stings, the unexplainable hurt of a kick in the balls- There's no one word that could have accurately described exactly what I felt at that moment. It was surreal yet realistic, an out-of-body experience in flesh and blood.
The tongues of ice on my skin burned hotter than the fires in my throat. My head spun faster than a Ferris wheel. My tongue curled in upon itself. The process that formed words and sent them from the brain to the mouth seemed to have been severely impaired.
My brain screamed in agony. I saw stars. Not the brilliant blue-white hard diamond glittering from the skies, but devilish green little monstrosities bearing evil grins in the oppressive darkness. The moon hung lank among them, but still managed to be haughty and cold.
My pulse quickened and threatened to tip the scales.
My oesophagus forgot it was supposed to send food down, and suddenly carved out a new niche for itself in sending bolus running up and out through my mouth.
Bile gushed from my mouth like the new fountains created after a refreshing rainfall. I finally was able to somehow muster the strength and look up. My eyes burned. I forced them against their newfound will to look at the person who'd began the process and set the ball rolling, the person who I'd handed the keys of my heart to, the person who'd seen fit to smash the padlocks guarding the heart and commit arson inside it. The person who'd just made certain I'd never have a living, loving heart ever again.
 I looked down. I looked down at the reddish organ in my hand, at the chest of my lover that had been sliced open, at the rivulets of blood that flowed from the deep gash, at his lifeless eyes, at his lolling head, at the look of extreme surprise etched on his battered features.
We were gonna talk, you see, he and I. I just needed to place his heart against mine. For the intended heart-to-heart.

Okechi Favour Chinonso is a final year student of Optometry in Abia State University. He writes sparingly and loves good food.  He's also training to be a computer programmer.

Share:

Read More

UNITY POT by Iruke Ebuka

UNITY POT

Nuclear is Alien... 

Nuclear power from outside space? 

Not my point!!! 

I mean that Nuclear Family is Alien.

It is alien to the basic African ideology. 

Our "Nuclear" is "Extended."

The very facet of our individual existences

has root in the spirit of NWANNE.

We are by nature community beings. 

Our real heroes are those who really lived and live for the rest. 

E'er heard of the Unity Pot? 

I'll tell you about it. 

Our Unity Pot is large... That's because our Nuclear is Extended.

The food steaming in Daa Nkechi's small kitchen is for her kids, the neighbours two children, grandma, and the youths in the village square. 

Down to our cooking tradition, AFRICA VALUES sharing together.

The next time you use your alien gas cooker to ready the meal, improvise our Unity Pot and put a smile on the faces of those hungry lads who can barely afford the most basic of needs!!!

Iruke Ebuka is a young African who believes in the spirit of UBUNTU. He is an advocate for the restoration of Africa and the African to her glory days.  He's a student of Optometry in Abia State University.  

Share:

Read More

GUEST WALK-INS!

Hello my odd followers!
Been a while.  I know,  I know.  So many rooms have been locked in this building.  Well,  rejoice!  The guest room officially opens today.  Yipeeee!
Sorry.  That was very unprofessional.
#clears throat.
Okay mi darlings. I bring you Guest walk-ins.
Every Wednesday,  we'll have a guest in the building.  So you can come on in and see what they bring in.  Don't forget to keep your lenses on my loves.
Also,  if you want to be a guest or you know someone who would want to walk-in (with good stuff for the house please), please write an odd letter to our manager via her facebook inbox @ Ada Thelma Iyke or leave a comment here.

Expect our Hall of Fame to open soon too.  Yesssss.
Alright. Enjoy lovelies!

Signed: Director,  Oddlenses.com

Share:

Read More

HUMANS

Humans!
A race of weak people,
With a tendency to be possessed,
By demons as little as stupidity,
With a tendency to be controlled
By spirits of thievery.
Theft masters of the peace.

Humans!
Are animals now more noble?
They fight fairly for what they want.
They do not tiptoe like shadows
In search of the unknown
With the thickest blanket of carefulness.
How can a person be careful about doing wrong,
But be careless about the smallest things
Like listening to reason.
Are there variants of what is right and what is not?

Humans!
How can we kneel and bow to gods of oppression?
How can we wield weapons like rape, thievery, murder and slavery?
Have we no shame?
I thought we were gods?
Apparently,  gods of foolishness,
the ones who wield the mighty weapon of madness.
Different types of madness.

Humans!
Listen to my song of pity,
Come attend the pity-party I'm throwing.
Let's see if the booze of depression will make you drunk,  knackered
So much that a steaming  cup of sensible reason will sober you up.
Maybe you can be saved.
Maybe.
Only Hope knows.
Let's feed Hope.
The same one,
the fugitive that lives with you,
The same that keeps us standing agains
gravity's disapproval.
Let's feed her.

Humans!
Live,  love, give,  love,  move.

Share:

Read More

CALL ME OLIVER TWIST by Ada Thelma

Folks enjoy stories,
Be it sweet or gory.
They love to watch a person mad enough to wriggle out of mediocrity's embrace.
They watched,  read
as Oliver Twist dared,
As he did what others feared.
They hummed songs of pity in their hearts,
As he stood up from where he sat,
As he made for the door,
To ask for more.
The attention they paid this time,
Was greater than the first time.
So he changed the narrative.
Okay,  he challenged the narrative.
Familiarity clothes us as regards the story.
He didn't get what he asked for.
But he is known as the boy who asked for more.

So call me Oliver Twist.
Because we learn from the experiences of others
Because I'm not letting go till I get more.
Many get comfortable in mediocrity's hands.
Many live with an insatiable hunger.
A hunger they suppress.
Well I want more.
I want more money.
I want more happiness.
I certainly want more friends.
I want deeper friendships.
I want more knowledge.
Greater insight.
I want a man that refuses to live on the meagre crumbs life gives us.
I want a woman that would make me see the good things hidden in life's stores.
Yes,  those things life reserves for those who would be foolish enough to ask for more.
Those who would be brave enough to fight for more.
Because life doesn't give you what you ask for.
Only the violent taketh it by force.

I want more.
Call me Oliver's improvement.
Because even when I get slapped,
I'll keep my palms outstretched and supinated.
Even when I'm flung to the wall,
I'll rise up and give it my all.
My resistance

Call me Oliver Twist.
Because I always want more.
Because it's not always bad to want more.

Share:

Read More