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Getting Bitten At The Waist by a Shark Would be a Gruesome Way to Check Out of the Cosmos System…

…and no, this isn’t really what it sounds like.


Honestly, I don’t know what this is meant to be. That would really be a bad way to let Life go, wouldn’t it? I just saw a picture of a guy getting treated to such a courtesy by a very ungentlemanly Shark, being typified to how women feel when they’re experiencing a bout of the Red Ranger’s angry sister’s groin kick xUltra, and part of me wonders…


Is it actually that intense?


I mean… I know I’ve once agreed that it could be like a kick to the nuts spread over five consecutive stretches of twenty four hours, but is it worse? Worse than the pain from a punch to the solar plexus? Can it feel as painful as being torn apart at the spot which holds your spinal cord?


If indeed, it’s that gruesome, then I must say I feel absolutely no envy for my bosom laden (C1kko, you’re not included in this description) counterparts.


But I skip the point I was thinking about jare.


Is there





Ha… did WordPress really just crash while I was in the middle of a post? *UnsheathesSwordsAndCoatsThemWithTears*


Ah! Wait! There’s a Draft!


The morning has been saved! I haven’t typed anything in so long; I would have fallen into a pool of desolation, tears and tepid sprite.




A way worse than getting bitten by a shark, for a man to die? Having to learn another language when you’re on the downhill side of your twenties, maybe? No, I’m not complaining. Why would I? I’ve been in another country for a week, and I haven’t heard the sound of a generator for so long, my “permanent headache” syndrome has found somewhere else to hangout. Awesome doesn’t even begin to cover that.


But still… that picture really made me think.


On the flip side, is transcending “la petite mort” to “la mort réelle” all it’s theorized to be? Is there truly no better way for a human being to find Ascension?


Has anyone considered the joy of good amala with 300gms of assorted dead animals? Floating in a sea of well set up edikang ikong? Am I the only one?


I hope I’m not the only one who dares to dream…

Speaking of dreams, it’s time I caught some.

I’m going to sleep.


But first… 





Good morning.



Runaway Words: Random Writings

“I got chased by a chicken this morning.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

He looked up at her with a slight smile.

“I said, I got chased by a chicken this morning.” he said to her again.

She cleared her throat. “Care to tell me why?”

“Well I was stumbling down my street this morning, and I bumbled through her & her babies in a haze of super-strong coffee attempting to overshadow the lasting effects of last night’s super-strong weed, unwittingly deciding to test what would happen if I scooped one of those squalling babies up with my foot.”

She looked bemused.

“And how exactly does this qualify as being ‘something different about you this morning’?”

“Well, for one thing, my perception is quite different from what it used to be.” Her eyebrow raised slightly. “I’ve finally understood that thing my father always said about testing a mad man’s lack of a family by throwing a stone at him in the market.”


“And for another, as I’m sure you’ve finally noticed, I’m still slightly baked this morning. Between me and you, some of the best weed in Lagos can be found in Ikeja.”

“And why are you sharing this info with me?”

“Because you were wondering why my eyes were slightly red when I sat down, and the edges of your cheeks wrinkled when I mentioned weed, & again when I said I was still high. You haven’t gotten baked in a minute and you’re probably wondering who my supplier is.”

“You’re perceptive.”

“It’s a beneficial and somewhat annoying characteristic.”

“But that isn’t why we’re here, is it?”

“No, it isn’t, but I’m a nice guy.” He looked in her eyes and smiled again. “I hate to see a friend in need and not share some help.”

Her eyebrow raised. “We’re friends now?”

“I don’t see why not, do you? We will have some sort of… Working relationship pretty soon. We may as well get the formalities out of the way and all.”

Her face straightened. “You sound so sure.” He smiled, and his look became slightly distant. “That’s the point; I’m not sure. I’m barely afloat on a sea without shore. But if you’d seen what I’d saw, you’d certainly know that certainty without flaw is often a delusion and no certainty at all.


“By my favorite poet, Amir Sulaiman.”

“I like poetry. Is that what you were playing on your iPod before you sat down?”

He nods

“What else do you have on your iPod?”

“I’m sorry, I only share my playlists with my friends.”

“So why won’t you share it with me?”

“Well less than five breaths ago, you weren’t sure if we were friends. Unless of course, you’ve made up your mind and we actually are going to be… friends.”

This time she gave him a little smile.

“And if I had made up my mind, why do you think it should be you?”

He gave her his own smile. “Well, in the words of the great Mr. Carter, ‘Fuck with me, you know I’ve got it.'”

“A bit of arrogance?”

“Another of my beneficial but somewhat annoying characteristics.”

“And how would it be beneficial to me?”

“Feigned humility is for the weak and pretentious. You’re in no mood for either. Neither am I.”

She chuckled as she glanced at her watch. “Interesting… but, we’re out of time. It was good to meet you. Thanks for coming over.

He got up. “And you. We’ll meet again?”

She looked down. “I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough. Could you ask the next person to come in?”

“Of course.”

He walks out, back straight like a dancer with a high held head. Although the slight stumble gave him away, she couldn’t help but smile as she ticked his application with her green pen and ushered the next candidate in for the interview. She hadn’t even gotten round to asking him any actual questions.  He’d probably be a bad influence on her if they were in the same building… But ah well.

She wondered to herself, who his supplier was.


So, I’m sitting and waiting for an interview at the moment. I was on the bus this morning, and I started thinking about how it would be to have this sorta conversation at an interview…
Remember, honest and beneficial criticism only.

Oh, and wish me luck.


30 Reasons To Keep On Keeping On

If you’re going through a hard time right now, read this and know that it’ll be okay. You’re not alone.

Runaway Words

And when the Ink dries, and the pages turn to dust, so will we return to dust. – Frank Ocean

So… a new week, yes?

Did y’all have a good weekend? I know I did… I didn’t get to see my little Big Madam, but I still had s decent time. I went to church for the first time in… I don’t know…four months?

Damn. I wish I could make some kind of excuse but well, my hangups with churches and God will probably require a separate post, so I’ll just let it go.

Started a journey with TheMs, which had the potential to be very good for us. But as with all things, I’ve learned very well that the road to hell is indeed paved with good intentions, so I’m praying that it works out for us just like we hope it will.

Chef Fregz is amazing. I should just leave it at that. His Special went really well yesterday (at least I think so); the food was amazing, people came out to support him… I had a good time with family.

And speaking about family, I’ve learned that the best kind of family is the kind you choose to be with. Not like the one you’re born into is bad, but it’s one thing to have something thrust upon you, and another to choose that it’s what you want. S/O to TeamGhenGhen, J & TheMs… Yesterday was so much fun.

This wasn’t what I planned to post but well… Na so e dey happen sometimes. Now I’m going to try to get through the day with as much energy as possible, and not fall asleep at my desk.

Y’all have an awesome week.


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Words & Tears

The most sincere words are often birthed from the tears that fall when your soul’s water breaks.


I don’t even know what the fuck that means.

All I do know, is that right now, I feel broken.

I don’t even know how it happened, or what was said.

I wish I could go back in time, and find the exact syntax of words that were said, & stop them.

Words are powerful, you know.

I remember when I was kid, my mum would always tell me to say to people that made fun of me: “sticks & stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.

Somebody lied, right?

Please Ignore These Words

The pen gives.

Thoughts made manifest; ideas turned from simple wisps of smoke into concrete patterns broken down into letters and sounds.

Where does it take me?

I have no idea.

I think, therefore I write. Right now I write down these thoughts as they throttle through my consciousness. I must confess, I have no idea what I’m meant to be saying. But there’s no light or day in my brain so when the sun shines I play in the hay of words till they’re tumbling out my ears and down my fingers.

*chuckle* what am I saying?

I’m in the middle of a stressful workday, but I found time to read Julius’ new post. There are reasons why he’s my favorite writer, and this post just reaffirmed them.
From battling Writer’s Block, to dealing with heartbreak, if I ever wanted to place the ink of my feelings in the pen of another to be put down, there’d have been no one better than he.
Thank you J, for Writing y(our) Wrongs. I pray we both come to a place where our words are testimonies of the right things that have happened to us.
God bless your pen.

Challenging Myself: Day Twenty Five

[El Cumbanchero | Sabu Martinez]

So, despite the upbeat tune I’m listening to, I’m not in a particularly good mood. For one thing, Glo has been an unrepentant asshole, and I’ve not had any data to do anything reasonable in the last two days. Second, and even more depressing, is the fact that I had quite a shitty day.

[Senor Blues | The Horace Silver Quintet]

I learned a couple of valuable lessons today, which I pray I never forget; I learned that, no matter how much I want to, I can’t do everything myself. In some cases, I’ll have to admit to incapability. I also learned, most importantly, never, ever, to do for myself, what I can pay someone else to do for me. My time would be much better spent, and no matter how much I may think I know, there’s absolutely no way I can know more than the people who make it their professional objectives to know these things.

[Man on the Side | John Mayer]

Day Twenty Five: Ten Ways to Win my Heart

Come on! How many times am I going to write on this topic or some variation of it?

No! *chuckles*

Okay, so I wrote about this once. Although, it wasn’t ten things, but five. That will have to suffice. Writing this three times makes me feel like a total narcissist.

So, if you want to read, here’s “Five Ways to Win the Heart of the Panda

That’ll be all for now.

Day Twenty Five Done.


Challenging Myself: Day Twenty

[Strawberry Swing | Frank Ocean]

This song brings so many emotions out of me… I hate listening to it sometimes. It’s so sad… so soulful… reminds me of memories, innocence lost… unwanted destruction… necessary sacrifice…

“…say hello… and say farewell to the places you know…”

#Day Twenty: The Last Argument I Had

Hahaha! I’m actually meant to tell you about the last argument I had? I don’t think so.

Or… well…

The last argument I had was about my family. And about my… character.

When it comes to the bit about my character, I think about it, and I realize that it wasn’t so much about all that, but more about trust, and being letdown… and fatherhood. Fathers don’t realize, a lot of time, how much their children’s lives depend on their being good fathers to them. When you become a father (this is my theory), everything else is supposed to take a back burner position. Your child’s life should become your primary concern. Loving them, teaching them, providing for them, being the father they need… your hopes and dreams should cease to matter because that child has become those hopes and dreams. Their entire future could be counting on what you do…

But what do I know? I may become a father and find myself eating these words when I realize that it’s not always as easy. But I will try. Even if it kills me, even if I hurt myself trying; I will try to be the best possible father I can manage to be. The best man I can possibly manage to be. So help me God.

Day Twenty done! Ten more to go!

G’night y’all.



He walked into the flat he shared with Kiki, his girlfriend of four years. She was asleep, as he had expected. It was 2:30 am. He smiled as he walked to the amazingly beautiful woman lying on the bed. He was glad he had the privilege of calling her his.

He went to the bed and kissed her forehead, just the way she liked it. As he walked back to drag his suitcase from the kitchen into the room, he thought of what he was about to do. He winced physically from all the emotional and mental pain, it was going to be hard. He had thought long and hard about this decision on his flight back from Sydney, where he had travelled for business. He had to break up with her.

While he unbuttoned his shirt, he thought about everything that had happened in four years. Meeting at his favourite ice cream spot just in front of the building where he worked, taking her to an art gallery for their first date and finding out later (very embarrassingly), that her art was actually being exhibited at said gallery on said night. Finally, he remembered the point where it all started to go wrong, landing the job of his dreams.

He remembered the day he broke the news to her very vividly. The new software that had been designed under his supervision for the company had made the executives of the company very, very happy; so happy that they wanted to change the existing software of the company to his. But, there was a catch, he had to go around the world training the branches of the company in various countries how to use and implement the software.

They had ‘the talk’, he said he was not sure what was going to come out of this job and he wasn’t sure he was ready to juggle the job and her. She said she didn’t want to lose him, she was sure she could manage not being in constant contact with him all the time. Before he left, they bought the flat together so that whatever time he spent when he was in town was with her.

But it hadn’t exactly worked out that way. Time difference, jet lag and work had made it difficult for him to be reachable. Whatever time he spent in town was spent resting and recuperating, working on modifications to the software or attending some family event. From time to time, it felt like there was a stretch of a few days when he remembered he had a girlfriend and actually made the effort to ‘catch up’ with her.

He first started to notice there was a problem on her birthday two years ago. He had called the house to just talk to her and find out if she had got the dozen red roses he had sent her. She was nowhere to be found. Thinking maybe she was with her friends partying, he called her best friend, Kemi. ‘Kiki has been in hospital for two weeks now, she had to have a tumor taken out ofher tummy, I’m not supposed to be telling you this, but she just looks so lonely and tired on this bed, I thought maybe you could cheer her up’. He had talked to her about it, but she said since he was busy with work and she just wanted to spend his ‘catching up time’ listening to him, she didn’t consider it important enough for him to know and she didn’t think he cared anyways. If he did, he never showed it.

One thing held Kiki back from ending the whole thing. He was sure it was the promise she had made him when he was about to leave. She had said she would be comfortable with the distance. He was sure she didn’t want to seem like an ass, ending the relationship because of distance. She was considerate like that.

Kiki deserved more. She deserved someone who would dote on her. She deserved someone who would remind her everyday how beautiful, important and special she was. All the red roses in the world could not cuddle her when she had period pains, or taste the delicious dishes she cooked endlessly, admire her paintings, cater to her when she was in hospital, escort her to family events or be her plus one to one of those events.

He was not enough, he thought as he stepped out of the shower and into his boxer shorts. ‘I am not enough, I am not enough, I am not enough’ he kept repeating to himself. He turned out the bedside lamp, got into bed and snuggled close to her. Tonight, he was going to have to be enough.