Memories 1

A long while back, I will say I was about 7 or 8 years old, probably younger, I was home with my mom. I had a coloring book and with my mom watching and helping I shaded the pages with my pencil. It was more like practising puttin in shadows on a object in my painting paper now that I think about it. Well my aunty came in, yes one of those neighboorhood friends that becomes your aunty by extension, and she gave me a box of crayons. My eyes widened. Now I dont know exactly why I never had crayons then, but I will come to have many more from my parents later on in life they became a nuisance. That day, I started to put colors on my painting book, and it came alive. But somewhere deep within I felt guilt. The guilt that what my mom offered was not enough. I now look back, she didnt care much it seems, to her it was just all the same. Either I used a pencil or the crayons I was just offered. She was just happy I had something to do, and I bet an activity we can do together.

Ma, you may never get to read this, but Thank You for all the "pencils" you gave me, and the "crayons" you never seemed to mind.

Whatsup

Okay so I have read other blogs and from day one people have read their blogs. No o. Mine aint nobiody here yet. Its all good I will use this time to develop my writing. Actually now I am just a tad bit tipsy. HAd me some chanpagne and for the first time, does this happen to anyone, I cant crack my knuckles coherently. I have this funny feeling in them.
Anyway, get personal. I am in this program byu this Indians. They give you some theoretical training and start marketting you with 5 years experience, with companies you never worked for and stuff you never did. Hmm God save us from USCIS and desperation. Na desperation bring me come here. THey even give you a guest house. Well... had this roomate who has 2 PhD's. I wnder wetin he dey do for here.
Tbhe thing about desperation is we never get to see the possible, we run for whatever comes ourt way which seems to get us closer to what we want. An over 30 lady meets guy who has the slightest ineterst and is suddenly interested too never mind he that even though he has goals, it doesnt match with hers, even though he knows what he wants, she doesnt fit into it, even if he is going somewhere it has nothing to do with her destiny. You have no job, one comes along that does nothing for your future anfd you hold on to it give it your all, it drains you. Becuase of American imigration you sell your soul even if for a few couple of years, not minding the moral ethical delima u have to face or that you are been raped metaphorically made to do that which you never dreamed will be your move.

i got desperate, I did what I had to do, now I look back, I could have done better. but life goes on, I live with m decisions. THe house smells of curry, the snoring from him is getting louder and though I dont care much, when he stops snoring it feels like he died and I have to stay awake till he continues to snore again, and I get no sleep. HA!

me clueles

Yet another day, still trying to get used to this blog thingy. To think I had glorious ideas when i started but none comes to mind though. Well I found this link about birthdays and such, what your birthday says sbout you. Well maybe tomorrow will bring a better story, until then...

Your Birthdate: June...

You are an island. You don't need anyone else to make you happy. And though you see yourself as a loner, people are drawn to you. Deep and sensitive, you tend to impress others with your insights. You also tend to be psychic - so listen to that inner voice! Your strength: Your self sufficiency Your weakness: You despise authority Your power color: Maroon Your power symbol: Hammer Your power month: July

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

The Irony called Life

Today was her mom's service of songs. Just about a couple of weeks after she died. She was sad too, as would be expected, but she showed strenght and courage. Her head was held high, the smile came through, the recollection of times past... sweet. She still managed somehow to encourage others, make them laugh, and make fun of them too. Most of all she did not loose her sense of humour, she was made fun of and she laughed about it as she enjoyed making fun of others. Throwing light hearted jest at them. All around it was just good.

Today was her mom's service of songs, and tomorrow is the wedding of another, and the rehearsal was today. Two events with opposing reaction. One a celebration of life lived, the other a celebration of a renewed life. One a remembreance of life the other a continuation. Life is funny like that. One cries, the other laughs. One weeps, the other smiles. At some point in time, the both smiled but for different reasons. One for something in the past, the other for the expectations of what is to come. And when they both cried, one was out of sadness, the other for unexpressable elation. They both react to something.

Today was her mom's service of songs, and a baby was born to another. She celebrated a life lived, they celebrate a life born. Isnt such the irony of the existence called life. It recycles itself. Takes one out and brings in another, it takes what was and transforms it to what will be. The dust of old has been reborn into a new beautiful unique living dust; a cute one at that.

One died, another is born. One mourns, the other rejoices. Such is the irony of life.

May the departed soul find rest in the peace of the Lord;
May the living soul find hope in His promises.

Conundrum... almost.

A pastor walks into an asylum (shebi thats where dey put the medically not sane people). Anyway, whatever they call it, he saw a man banging his head on the wall and wailing over and again "Mary, Mary, Mary..." He asked the doctor, "who is Mary?" Doctor says "Mary is the girl that jilted him at the altar." The pastor walks on to the next stall... and in there another man wailing over and again "Mary, Mary, Mary..." Pastor asks the doctor, "is it the same Mary?" The doctor said, "Yes, this is the one who married Mary."

Anyway, I am trying to get into this blogging. I keep forgetting and when I remember not much to say. With all my been annonymus... hmm, maybe, just maybe...

what am i doing?

Well here again. Keep forgetting I have a blog now, where I can go pour out my thought. But truth is I am not sure how honest I need to be. But like damn, I am been annonymus. Well anyway, I have two songs stuck in my head: lost without you (RObin Thicke) and Dont't matter (Akon)

On to more important things whatever they may be, this weekend is about to be on. Nothing out of the ordinary, who am I kidding. With the block party tomorrow right sm akc in front of church. It should be off the izzie.

Okay... where do I go from here

I am not the least sure why I started this blog, but maybe to empty my soul of the caged in screams, the battle that splashes within like a thousand ocean currents hitting one against many.

I am not exactly poetic but sometimes what i say gets me going in this dreamy aze that only leads to more questions... anyway

why did i decide to blog? I have read many blogs and some had their juice rolling from the first sentence, others too their time. maybe i will find my style in a new york minute, maybe it will be a nigerian hour... either way, here i go.