Resurrection

I used to be good at this. Like, REALLY good.

I’d stay up really late and write all my posts early in the morning before going to sleep. My mind always seemed more functional when the sun was just threatening to rise. I remember curling up under my duvet, comfortable and content on my mattress on the floor of my mother’s room. Yes, I used to sleep in my mum’s room. Her AC was the only one in the house that worked. Anyway, that was it then. It would be 3am and all I’d have was a pack of digestive, a bottle of Ribena, and all these stories running through my mind. Beautiful words and brilliant sentences all pushing themselves to the front of my mind and then on to the screen of my phone.

So, what happened?

Things change, they say. It’s supposed to be the only constant thing, right? Cool.

I guess I just lost it. It’s not that I don’t want to write anymore though. I still do. I just don’t for absolutely any reason. Maybe I’m lazy. Maybe I’ve forgotten how. Now, all the fun I had writing is just like an album of old pictures I really don’t like looking at. Not because the pictures are ugly, but because they just make me feel so sad.

I’ve started so many stories and just abandoned them halfway. It’s sad. But I’m changing that.

How?

Well, I’m writing this now, aren’t I? I don’t even know what made me pick up the laptop in the first place, but I did. And I love the way my fingers feel as they dance around the keyboard pushing these ridiculous buttons. It’s amazing. I have so many stories I want to tell you and a whole lot of experiences I’d like to share.

A lot’s happening right now for me. It’s not all good, but there are some bright spots and I cling to them for dear life. So be warned that the ride we are about to embark one, together hopefully, might get rough. But just stick with me and it could all be worthwhile.

Yes, a journey. Notice the title of the new blog? That’s how I see things now; like I’m hitchhiking through life.  Every day brings a new place (emotionally) and a new experience and I intend to explore every bit of it.

It’s going to get personal for a while, but things will pick up eventually. I promise.

I just want to write.

iBlend Presents RE_UP 3 #GUILTYPLEASURES The POST RAMADAN RAVE

 

As part of its annual road map Abuja leading social network and Events outfit iBlend Services, hosts a one of a kind club rave themed Re-Up. This exclusive party is held yearly to celebrate the end of the Ramadan fast and is targeted towards all our Muslim Brothers and sisters, the upwardly mobile socialite crowd and the fct’s show business community. Always highly anticipated, Re-Up is one of the top ranked parties on the Abuja events calendar. Hosted successively in Abuja since 2010, Re-Up III promises to be bigger and better than ever before.

 

This year’s event is hosted in conjunction with one of the FCT’S Finest night life establishments, in Classic iBlend fashion we are pulling out all the Bells and whistles for this one,

 

Aptly themed  “Guilty Pleasures”……..YOU BETTER BE PREPARED FOR ANOTHER SPECTACULAR EXPERIENCE

Event details will be released in three days time so WATCH THIS SPACE

 

iBlend……..do you?"

Enough

So, I wrote this cuz I wasn't sure I could still write. I don't even have a title :( Suggestions are welcome though :) Enjoy



The fluorescent light in the rundown kitchen flickered on and off repeatedly, leaving five-and two-second intervals between each shift in lighting change.

Lara stood motionless, staring at the food placed at the center of the serving tray, the cutlery laid delicately next to it. Steam rose gently out of the bowl containing the fish pepper soup he'd demanded her to make when he had gotten back from work. I wonder what he'll find wrong with it tonight. At the thought, contempt clouded her mind and, for some odd reason, all she could taste was steel.

Several attempts at lifting the tray had failed pitifully. Lara placed her hands on the counter, the cold causing her to shiver involuntarily. Her bones felt weak and hurt. The skin above the bones hurt even more and was covered in bruises. Slowly, she lifted her hand to her face and touched her left cheek with her fingertips. Swollen. Liquid, warm and sticky, greeted the probes and she flinched. For someone who hated the sight of blood, she'd seen an awful lot of it over the past years. This has to stop.

She was at war with her conscience. You see, this wasn't the first time Lara had entertained this idea, but she'd always ended up backing out. Why? She wasn't quite sure. Fear, maybe. Or most likely the barely recognisable fragments of the intense love they'd shared at a time that seemed too far back in history for Lara to remember. Whatever it was, it had kept Lanre alive this long. No more.

She whispered those two words over and again in the empty kitchen and felt her resolve strengthen. She knew this time was different. Lanre need to pay. For everything. She simply couldn't afford to allow him another opportunity to lay a hand on her again. All the promises he'd made about things getting better had finally come to mean nothing more than empty words. Lanre's constant cries and pleas whenever she was packed and ready to walk out, crooning in her ear how she was his entire world, how much he needed her, and how she was the most important thing in the world to him, meant nothing more to Lara now, than promises of another incident.

A low laugh escaped Lara's lips as she remembered how often he'd cried and told her how much he hated himself for hitting her. How ashamed it made him. Funny how all that shame went out the window whenever he perceived another slight on her part. The fists would fly again, and no one could do anything to stop Lanre whenever his eyes and mind where blinded with rage. The neighbours had even stopped trying to come to her aid when Lanre had thrown a brick at a man who had pulled him off Lara's tiny, cowering frame on the concrete floor of the compound courtyard. It's either I kill him or he kills me. And me, I'm not ready to die.

A glance down at the bowl in front of her informed Lara she'd have to reheat the peppersoup. God forbid she presented her beloved husband with a lukewarm meal. As she shut the oven door and set the timer, the fluorescent tube flickered back on and she caught her reflection in the oven door. The woman before her was barely recognisable. She saw a woman who had been brutally beaten down by life, not the soft, happy features she once boasted. Gone was the youthful fire in her eyes that Lanre claimed had attracted him to her in the first place. Now, hey eyes were just cold...and dead. At that moment, Lara realised more than ever how desperately she needed that light back. And just what she was willing to do to get it back.

Retribution. She could almost taste it. She knew she was ready.

"OMOLARA!!!" Lanre's voice startled her, but only briefly. She stopped the microwave and pulled out the food as he shouted again from the living room. "Ahnahn! How long does it take to make peppersoup?! Are you cooking for an army?!"

Lara composed herself and headed towards the living room with the bowl of peppersoup, stopping by the door to take the pestle in her other hand. She took a deep breath as she stepped into the living room. This is it. She walked up to where Lanre was seated in front of the TV and stood behind him, hoping her resolve didn't fail her now. Lanre stretched out his hand without even bothering to turn his attention from the flickering images before him. Finally she opened her mouth, her voice a low whisper. "The food is here, Lanre."
"Put it in my hand now! Are you stupid?!"
"No."
Lanre finally turned around, and the look in his eyes was unmistakeable. Hatred. Pure. Undiluted hatred.

Before Lanre could speak or react, Lara threw the bowl at his face. As expected, Lanre screamed and covered his face giving her enough time to steady herself and hold the pestle firmly in both hands. He managed to open his eyes just as she raised the pestle above her head, and Lara recognised another emotion register on her soon-to-be ex-husband's face as the realisation of what she had planned dawned on him. His mouth opened, and his free hand went up in a petty attempt to defend himself, but she was having none of it. With every ounce of force she could muster, Lara brought the pestle down on Lanre's head.

There was a loud pop and then a crack as she penetrated the skull, followed by a wet squelching sound. Her anger boiled over and she kept hitting his head with the pestle, her screaming serving as another outlet for her anger and frustration.

Anger subsided, Lara stood panting in the living room, the people in the television still carrying on with their business, and surrounded by a mess of blood and brain matter. And then she realised the full implications of what she had done. "Oh, darling. I'm so sorry. She whispered to no one. "You can't imagine how much I hate myself for this. You're my world. I'm nothing without you, and I promise this won't happen again." And then she laughed. It was loud and carefree, filled with purity and joy and the execution of darkness. Her first real laughter in years.

The sight of Lanre's chair soaked in the remnants of what used to be his head filled Lara with unimaginable joy and a sense of fulfilment. She went upstairs, packed up most of her belongings and took her time getting cleaned up. As she headed out the door of their apartment, she glanced back at the mess in the sitting room and thought about what Lanre would say if he could still speak. "Ode! Useless fool. I'm going out. This place should be spotless by the time I get back."

Of Writing, Gadgets, The Beginning of The End, and other Cool Stories

Tonight, I'm putting this up for you guys that didn't read it when it featured on Andy's Blog It's a bit old, so forgive me. Not really in the mood to write tonight.

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First off, I'm a writer. Yes! A pretty amazing one at that (I've been told). Every time someone goes "My goodness, you write so well!" (Or something like that) I blush for at least 2 minutes before filing the memory away in one cabinet or the other because, sadly, my mind is as organised as catastrophe. So, yeah. I'm an awesome writer. My dust-covered blogs can attest to that. Yes, blogS. I have two. Started one early last year because I missed the joy of writing. I stopped writing in secondary school because teachers kept trying to enter me in competitions and stuff and I was "Na mhen.", so I figured a blog would help me get back to what I love(d?) doing. Everything was going all fine and peachy, and then *insert car crash sound effect of your choice*.

I'm not going to say I was going through mid-life crisis before someone will email me a slap. But I went through hell. For a while, it didn't seem like I was passing through. More like I'd stupidly decided to go there on vacation and chillax. Anyhu, I pulled through (yay!) but my blog suffered. I thought I'd lost the passion for writing. Overwhelmed with helplessness, I did what every blogger does when face with that dreadful block. I embarked on the 30 Day Blog Challenge. Don't worry. I didn't finish. I just panicked and opened another blog. And now, here I am again.

See, the second blog was supposed to be strictly fiction. The idea came to me in a trance, and I'd written out the forst ten chapters in a flurry. Typed it all out on my phone like a bawsette. So, I opened the blog and started putting the chapters up week after week. And then my phone got stolen. I won't even tell you how it happened. All you need to know is I went into a kind of shock for about three days until I got a new phone. And now, I'm struggling with my new blog as well (feel free to pity me).

The whole stolen phone ordeal almost destroyed me. You see, the criminals didn't just steal my phone. They cleared out all the gadgets in the house. Two laptops, a tablet, and about five phones. Don't you wonder what it is that would make a person want to steal someone else's gadgets? What is it? Me, I'm not techno savvy at all, so I've never really gotten it. Sure, I like pretty stuff. I got my first blackberry simply because it was blue. I've once bought a laptop because it was pink and could fit in my handbag. When I'm out shopping for phones and stuff, I'm not thinking *insert whatever serious tech people think here*. I walk into a store and price all the cute things I see until I can afford one. So, yeah. I like cute stuff. But I wouldn't go out of my way to steal one.

Except if maybe I got really drunk and was dared. Then I'd probably maybe do it. Maybe. I have a massive keloid on my left ear and a budding one on my right because of a stupid dare, so yeah. Who knows? But I quit drinking. I did. I'm now strictly a social drinker. I knew I was finished when a friend saw me and said "Coco, no drink today?". I sat down and thought about my life for a full five seconds. It was then I decided to turn my life around. So, yay! No more booze. I encourage you to quit too. Alcohol is bad, you know? Trust me. You don't want have to have to wake up on a tree branch one morning and have to put the fragments of memories from the night before together while you walk home alone in nothing but an oversized shirt and boxers.

But do you know what's more painful than an inexplicable bruised rib after a night out you can't remember? Owning a HTC HD7 for about five seconds before it's snatched out of your hands while you stand there, mouth agape, eyes shining brighter than halogen bulbs, and helpless. I may not be all lovey dovey with tech stuff, but it was a new phone, and it was gift from someone really close to me, and it can pain. It's even more painful when you carry that anger and buy expensive shoes for your baby only to get home and realise they aren't her size.

Sha, we can only thank God for small joys. Like your daughter waking up in the middle of the night (after hogging half the bed and pushing you into a corner) and seeking out your chest to rest her head. Or that really adorable voice note a friend sends you that just makes you smile. Or spending an amzing day with people who really care about you. Or that one person that stays up late with you until you feel better. Or Ribena. Or maltesers. Or chocolate cake. Cake... Yup. For me, it's the minute things people hardly notice that give me joy. That and attention. Lots of it. But that's all for another day.

Peace, Love, & Ribena (‾⌣‾)♉

CAUSE & EFFECT: BOREDOM

We've all been bored. While some very rarely experience the phenomenon known as boredom, there are those who hold high-ranking political positions in the kingdom of the bored. Unfortunately, I wandered into this kingdom a while back. I've been trying my very possible best to escape, but everything I tried came to nought.

Not too long ago, I found myself being registered as a citizen and I just received my passport about a week ago. I'm planning to have a party. Make a whole affair out of it. You should come.

Back to my story.

So, I was lounging on my bed enjoying my citizenship and doing my passport proud when I received a broadcast message:

WAIT...PLEASE DONT MOVE!
Take a picture of whatever is in front of U, send it to me, I want to see wat u're seeing right now:D ...then forward this message and see how many random pictures you get!

Can you guess what I did? Yup! That's right. I closed the chat #LikeABawse. I don't play all those silly bb games. Most of them are just really annoying. I worked too hard to attain my coo keed status, and I can't afford to just fling it away like used paynt. Anyhu, that's how I closed the chat and put my phone down.

After about five seconds of listening to the fan, I picked it back up, took a picture of what I was staring at, and sent it to the person who sent me the broadcast ( -.- ). After a conversation that's none of your business, I put the phone back down and stared at the ceiling for a bit. For lack of anything more entertaining to do, thanks to my citizenship, I picked the phone up again and sent the broadcast to everyone on my contact list.

In retrospect, I should have probably selected the people I was send the message to carefully, as opposed to just ticking 'select all', but I'm glad I did because I learnt some stuff I would like to share with you today.

What did I learn from sending a broadcast asking people to send me pictures of what they were looking at?

1. People are either too busy for their own good, or just stuck up. Before I sent the BC, I informed my contacts via my PM, urging them to kindly oblige me as I was bored. Inspite of my appeal, would you believe some people still ignored the message? Ehn! If you ask them now, they'll say they were working. People sent me pictures from their offices! And those that couldn't sent me IMs explaining the situation. So what could you possibly be doing?!

2)People spend a lot of time in the bathroom. (•_•) I got a fair amount of bathroom pics. Sinks, bathtubs, bathroom doors, the view from the open toilet door... *sigh* Kinda reminded me of rushing into strangers' bathrooms one time when I had an august visitor. Mind you, diarrhoea is the shittiest august visitor you will ever have. But this isn't about me and my bowel movements. What are you guys spending so much time in the bathroom doing? O.o

3. People are liars, or actually really bored. Too many people didn't send pictures of what they were actually looking at. Am I supposed to believe like 65% of the people on my contact list spend their time staring at walls, fans, closets, and such? Camaaan!!! Some people even sent pictures of walls (¬_¬) Who knows. Maybe you guys were browsing. Maybe. But, if there really is such a vast number of bored people out there, maybe we should consider forming some sort of club. Don't you think?

4. People are shifty. Those who sent me pictures of their laptop screens (¬_¬) I'm onto you. You were staring at your desktop, yeah? Cool story, bro. I gotcha. And the ones that showed me documents. I'm supposed to believe that's what you're using the laptop for ba? No p. I'll play along. I would've maybe even chopped small if you'd shown me a game or a movie. But documents? Your desktop? Really? I just hope you were able to pick back up whatever it was you were really doing from where you left off.

5. People don't read anymore. :( Not one person sent me a picture of an open book. Or a PDF on the laptop at the very least. It's honestly quite disheartening. Especially as the spoken and written english in the country is steadily deteriorating. Please, let's read more. Novels, newspapers, magazines, self-help books, books that are actually educational. Please. Plus, at least now those of you that tweet ish like "back to reading" are probably lying.

6. @rhaihan_jannah is either a twin, or has super powers. This is probably the most important thing I learnt today. She sent me a picture of HERSELF! So, she was either staring at herself (O_O) or at her twin that she's managed to keep a secret for this long. I'm just happy I'm the one that uncovered this secret. Feel free to thank me with monetary gifts.

Hopefully, when next I'm bored the club for bored people would be set up and in full operation, and I'll have somewhere to go. Instead of having to rely on petty bb games for entertainment. Meanwhile, feel free to leave helpful suggestions that will be deeply appreciated in the comment section below.

*goes back to reading*

Desire

Too tired to write today, so I decided to share something I absolutely love instead. It's all the same isn't it? :D

My Rainbow

Life. Fire. Power. Red hot pain.
Blood that runs through my veins,
Filling me with the illusion of life,
and yet tumbles out at every scratch
Every cut releases a fresh drop
Cool. Smooth.
Running down my skin free of restraint.
The trail it leaves easily tints my skin
The colour left behind...

It reminds me of leaves in autumn
And long walks along the beach watching the sunset.
But only just a little
The beautiful marigolds that lace the garden across the street
How delicate they look. I compare them to me.
This cell, it makes me weak.
Tortures my soul and frees my tears
I scream with my lips sealed so no one hears
Who will save me?

I need a hero; a man of strength and valour
To don his cape and lasso the moon
It's been so long since I saw the sun
Who knew I'd miss it so much?
Not me, obviously. I was basking in it's warmth, and cussing it out when I felt it was too much.
Now it's gone and I crave those burns I so despised.
The canary, she sings to melt my heart
I wish her away, but still she stays
Chirping in my ear, day in, day out

But there's little I can do
You see? We're stuck here, we two
And the green grass she speaks off is way over on the other side
A side I'm starting to believe doesn't exist
I journeyed a while searching, before I wound up here
And all I have to show for it are my insecurities and shattered hope
They ricochet off the walls and stab me repeatedly
At first it hurt, but I've grown accustomed to the feeling
And I completely understand
They're as irritated by me as I am by myself

I've embraced the darkness almost completely
Let it merge with me, and take over
I begin to forget things I need so desperately to remember
Like if the sky is really blue
Or if I really did enjoy the blues
The cheering crowd echoes at the back of my mind
Those days, only yesterday, seem so long long ago
Voices not so distinct, faces all merging into one giant ball of chaos
I try to reach, open my mouth to scream

Alas I'm yet lost and silent
Trapped in darkness as vast as the midnight sky
Desperately trying to escape myself.
Yes, I'm aware I'm trapped in my own mind.
A web of hurt, and hopelessness and grief
One I took the time to weave so intricately
And now I seek release, so I must make peace

I must treat myself like royalty
Move and speak like a greek goddess
I've come to realise no one will do this but me
Each man the emperor of his own universe
Laying back and letting subjects feed them grapes all freshly plucked
For the help I seek, I know I must look past this realm
I recall being there a while, but my patience must have worn out
Maybe I need to find my way back there. Maybe.

There's a pot of gold of gold waiting if you follow a rainbow?
Bitch please, that shit's just a metaphor.
Before you go searching, gotta ask yourself watchu looking for.
Sometimes, the insecurities they take a break
And then what little hope is left tries to sneak back in
Most times, it succeeds but it never stays long
And it just feels like I'm back at square one
But hope is what we need the most
Because only when you hope for something with all your heart
Can you even begin to have faith
Isn't that what they say.

I guess my real problem isn't really the lack
But that more often than not, against all else, I just really hope it all fades to black.