Die Another Day

You know those blurring scenes of the hero or villian moving with every last ounce of strenght or breath after being shot at or had a brutal fight? Yeah, that particular time when he is losing blood or has lost loads of blood and he’s staggering and finding it very pretty hard to walk… It turns out that those scenes are actually depictions of real experiences. At least I’ve been there…

HBD Mahy

Today,

I write in adoration of a beautiful soul,

In awe of a graceful heart,

And in adoration of an attractive sylph.

Few are friends who find time to encourage us,

Few are ladies who appreciate and spur us.

Today,

I write in honour of my muse,

My number one fan…

Happy birthday Alhaja Mahy,

May your days be very long.

xoxo

ALL THINGS GO

Nestled in the comfort of my breast,

My heart rests in its frozen chest.

Bridling in unalloyed solitude,

Finding unreserved solace in the cold ice

That has so long enclosed it.

BREAK’S OVER

Wheew… Tis been so long I put pen to paper and I can’t even remember the last time I posted a piece without first  writing it down on my “blog-note.” Ok, this feels so different and difficult, but I promise to write this piece directly from my head, without editing.

DIFFERENT

And my appetite has chosen today,
Of all days, to spite me.
All i have is this smell,
A somewhat strange smell of guava;
How is that even possible?!

DIE ANOTHER DAY

Alone with my thoughts,
I stare into the all too familiar emptiness.

Is it really all worth it?
Is life really worth all the fuss?

Forlorn,
only a singular conclusion persisted;
Yes!
Yes, life holds much,
Just as much as it demands.

Out flat,
only conscious of my aching self,
I realised I am all I’ve got!

In this solitary moment,
When all that matters is
the next breathe and living,
Life seems so small,
Yet so enormous.

Small enough to snap,
But large enough to fight for,
And hold firmly onto.

It wasn’t a show of strength,
I know it was divine grace.

Yet again, I live to die another day..

THE FIRST STEP

..All our young lives,
we search for someone to love,
Someone who makes us complete.
We choose partners and change partners.
We dance to the song of heartbreak and hope,
All the while wondering,
If there is someone perfect,
Who might be searching for us..

I strongly believe in chemistry and sparks. More so when these points are struck on the first encounter. In this part of the world, it seems only so natural for a guy to evoke and pursue love and affection, it sounds masculine too.

I appreciate uniqueness and I have a strong respect for people who go out of their ways to act and think away from the crowd and certain laid-down or conventional rules. I believe love is a two-way thing and either sex can make the first move.

Love at first sight is beautiful, it has however become a cliche and is readily abused. Deep rooted feelings are based on careful evaluation of the subject of interest over a stretch of time. I do not mean feigning friendship, but a candid show of desire and yet a measured withdrawal to the background.

You would normally expect a guy to chase and a girl chased.  Now what happens when the case is reversed? What happens when the girl chases, out of genuine love, respect and affection? To me, it is the ultimate show of courage and strength. If she is taking this first bold step, then she deserves respect. More so, it shows that she knows what she wants and she is willing to go the extra miles for it. For a lady to honestly ask for a guy’s heart out of genuine love invokes indescribable emotions and it is stuffs a masculine dream is made of.

As with all proposals, irrespective of who is making them, acceptance is by will. Yet, irrespective of what response a lady gets, she will always be a quintessence of courage and an epitome of strength (how anyone would turn down a flowered damsel is beyond me, except their heart is occupied by someone utterly special).

Should you be dejected if you don’t get him? Should you not go again if your heart leads you onto someone else?? NO & NO!! Just make sure he is worth it.

I will forever respect that effort..

THE WAIT

     Like the leopard-
     Affixed with unchanging spots,
     Or the zebra-
     All white with black stripes
     Or probably black with white stripes;
     Some things do not change.

     Like the parable of the ten virgins-
     Out at night with a oil lamp,
     Anticipating, anticipating, anticipating.

    

     It doesn’t only sound desperate,
     It looks the part too;
     Even at these desperate times.

     Waiting is easy,
     Except that these are windy nights.

     For how long can the hand shield the light
     From the gusty old wind?
     For how long can the body
     Withstand the cold?
     It is indeed a test,
     A test of strength and character;

     But then, it only takes so long,
     To stop fighting…
     Especially when it might just have been blown
     Out of proportion;
     Or worst still, been a one-sided desire.

     The pecks of being pragmatic are ample;
     Even when trying not to jump into conclusions,
     Or disrespect decisions and resolutions,
     The present has to be upheld,
     And the future kept in glaring gaze.

     But again, if the price to pay,
     For a priceless prize, is waiting,
     What other option there is?!

DEAR NO ONE..

    I thought I could fix it
    Honestly, a part of me wanted to..

    I guess I really was tired of fixing things
    Or maybe I just wanted you to..

    I’m sure you’ve always thought things were fine
    They were fine really
    But I can’t just keep getting by..

    Truth is, I’ve always had a different face
    Consistently gracing my dreams
    Now I guess you know nothing is always as it seems..

    We were broken, not bent
    Even a bend in this case cant be straightened..

    I’m sorry you cant count on me no more
    It really isn’t your fault..

    You are sweet enough for anyone
    All this tenderness really just bores me..

    I really meant to love you
    But I’m sorry it’s this way..

    I made no promises, so don’t be heartbroken!

    Something in me is frozen
    but I’m dragging it along
    Hoping the ice will break off and allow life, still..

FROM YEARS PAST

     From humble beginnings,
     From an average shy boy.

     From being satisfied with basic needs,
     From disregarding wants.

     From believing life is a bed of roses,
     From never being hurt.

     From the pampered little last born,
     From the overzealous teenager.

     From digesting d’Angelo’s newsletters weekly,
     From mig33, hi5, Tagged and e-harmony.

     From not believing in love,
     From never really giving my all.

     From having numerous options,
     From keeping cards close to chest.

     From quadruple-dating,
     From keeping wild cards.

     From giving all my heart,
     From unleashing the beast.

     From being scared of loneliness,
     From being scared of commitments.

     From being of best behaviour,
     From being of worst behaviour.

     From the ashes of my old self,
      ARISE OH HEEDRIZ!!

     IT’S A NEW DAY AND AGE,
     IT IS NOT A NEW ME,
     JUST AN UPGRADED VERSION OF THE OLD ME.
    
     THE OLD ME IS DEAD AND GONE.

YOU KNOW I KNOW..

    I know you are happy,
     I know you’ve got all you need,
     or so it seems.

     Being the good, contented girl that you are,
     I know there is no enticing you,
     definitely not with materials,
     that I’m sure of.

     I know you are in love,
     I know you care about him,
     Lucky him!

     I know he calls you his girl,
     I’m guessing he says it is forever.

     Does he know how lucky he is?
     Good for him if he does know.
     He doesn’t?! Lucky me.

     I know you know this is for you,
     I need not spell out your initials.

     I know you know I adore you,
     you know I got only all my heart to give,
     I know you know that will suffice.

     The chances may look slim,
     but I know the ground is wet and slippery,
     for which I pray he slips out.
     
     I know that portrays me as a bad being,
     but I just cant help being selfish here.

     I know you complement me,
     I know I’m better with you,
     I’m just gonna wait.

     Gonna wait until you got all your heart to give,
     or until a stronger force whisks me away.

       Except this is as strong as the force gets..

THE FAMILIAR STRANGER

     It is so strange we havent met!

     I broke the ice some years back,
     and i havent seen your face physically,
     nor have i seen your bright eyes.

     I have heard your voice,
     a couple of times over the phone.
     I still havent had the honour of holding your hand,
     nor smell your aura.

     I havent had the chance to physically see your smile,
     even though i’ve heard you smile
     and gazed at your smiling still pictures.

     Dear stranger, it’s true we havent met,
     but wait,
     I feel like I’ve known you all my life.
     How that is possible still eludes my crude mind.

     I know seeing you in my dreams should suffice,
     I know I should be contented with that.
     And under normal circumstances, I usually am.
     This however is unusual, the urge persists.

     I dont know if this is mutual,
     I just have to tell you how I feel.
     Why and how we’ve not met is beyond me,
     and about time we did.

     I hope I’ll get to gaze at your soul through your eyes soon,
     Just as I hope to eventually understand what makes you tick.
     Soon I hope stranger, soon.
     WAITING SUCKS..

MOVING ON

.. An ‘ex’ is an ‘ex’ because it is an ‘ex’ample of who you should never date in the future..

Relationships always and inevitably end! They either end ‘badly’ or end in a consummation of  the unbreakable and unalloyed love. Why they end badly or how they end in knot is a story for another  day and mood.

There is no denying that at some point, at a very fantastic stage, that ‘ex’ was the most beautiful thing/person to you on the world’s surface. Yes, there was a time when we could catch a grenade for them and a sane period when we would have sworn that they were made especially and only for us. Now, after the whole love web that was spun has been broomed off, at the expense of our poor little red heart, we tend to think, ‘have I been wrong all along? Was it just a farce? What could I have done better or refrained from doing?’ Now, those reminiscing moments of regret and blames are exactly why the poor heart aches.

Never focus on the past. Live in  and enjoy the now, forget about the past (but learn from it) and focus on a favourable future. The past is gone, deal with it! Why hold on to something you cannot change or have any kind of influence on whatsoever? Why trade the happiness of today for the sadness of yesterday? I know we all have different mindsets, but I still think this logic should be basic.

It is understandable that there might be periods of nostalgia and brooding, which tend to vary among individuals. Yet, I believe this period should only be reserved for deep thoughts on self-examination, evaluation and elevation. I’m tempted to chip in some ‘how to’ tips at this point but I’ll basically delay it in order to fully express my frustration on this piece. Holding on to a past relationship is actually one of the worst things you can do to your dear heart.

Yeah, they were charming, caring, sweet and all. Well, it was fun while it lasted! They eventually left. We basically leave when we think someone is not good enough for us, when we want better or when we just can’t deal anymore. Why then should you wail over someone who couldn’t see your value? Why should you spare a thought for someone who doesn’t see your true worth? If they cannot see beneath your ugliness and imperfections, then they don’t deserve you. Stand up and be counted!! Except if you honestly don’t know your own value and worth.

People who overthink and are basically nostalgic beyond the acceptable time  about a failed relationship are either extremely afraid they wont find anyone better than their ‘ex’ (basically and brutally accepting that they are  not worth their own weight in gold) or are erroneously and fatally afraid of starting over. They tend to always want to return to the warm (or cold) embrace of their ‘ex’. The acceptable brooding time for me is till the next dawn! Only wussies go beyond that IMO!!

I’m not against reconciliation. Infact,  I believe it is a show of strength, in as much as both sides push equally for it. Yet, if it failed once, it could, in all tendency, fail again. I believe the moment one party professes it is over, then it should be done for good. No making up, just move on.

Moving on is undeniably hard, especially if you thought what you felt was real. Yet, the hardship should never be a reason to be miserable. I actually think it is a slap on the next’s face if you still find time to think about the ‘ex’. Remember,  you may be at fault over the breakup, but if they left instead of working things out, then they weren’t supposed to be with you.

Conversely, one of the best things you can do for yourself is rid yourself of unprofitable relationships and respect your decision to do so. If their presence doesn’t add any value to your life then their absence won’t. It would absolutely afford you the opportunity to find value with someone else.

..love is cruel, just freeze your heart.. #icebox

HISTORIA VITAE MEAE Vol. 4

you are only as good as you think you are..

I used to have everything at my fingertips, I used to be the top dog. Here, I had to work for everything I earned; there was so much competition and I realised I wasn’t as bright as I originally thought..
Welcome to my early years in the university.

One of my happier days was when I eventually got to see my whole WAEC results. That year, a couple of key courses were initially ‘outstanding.’ WAEC tormented me emotionally by making sure the courses were released in tandem, days and sometimes weeks apart.

Another ecstatic day for me which rivals the aforementioned was when I got my admission letter to study biochemistry. I had put in for Medicine the previous year but despite my high score, I didn’t get admitted. I later got to know that being admitted into Medicine isn’t about your academic excellence alone, (as they often put it) ‘your legs must be pretty long too’

Yeah, I have to tell you, I actually did first semester PD before the JAMB admission list was released. Those were hugely exciting times. I was always sat at the mid-section on the far left hand side of 1500LT, beside a large TV display. I’m short-sighted, so I rely on the TV display beside me to see what the lecturer was writing on the big projector in front of the class. I still maintain, your LAUTECH days aint complete if you didn’t experience the pre-degree program.
We would leave class by 12pm and basically race to our tutorial centre, just to get a seat in front. I attended RCF tutorials back then and it was especially fun.

My 100L days were intense. I only knew a few of my departmental mates (mostly girls) and I had only one male friend in the beginning. I basically lived a triangular lifestyle- school hostel tutorials. I had to, MTH 101&102 were made out to be almighty because they were 5units courses. I can tell you the first year is the most stressful academically. Partly because you’ll want to ace all your courses and also because you are a neonate in the system.

I was unsurprisingly single throughout my first year. I decided to choose my books over gurls (although I couldn’t help teasing a number of gurls). That decision paid off in the long run especially as my department is renowned for sucking GPs. 😀

I made loads of friends instead and it was especially fun. My best mate in 100L was a die-hard Chelsea fan (I wrote ‘chelshit’ initially, freaging auto-correct kept changing it :p ); complete with a big head and a dark shining skin (the type that glows on ‘adiagbon’). Hour was also my departmental mate BTW. Only god knows how he always got to class very early. He was instrumental in me always sitting in the front rows in class though.

In my second year, with a favourable GP backing me, I freaging let loose. By now, I knew almost every lecture-attending members of my department. It was always fun sitting under the mango tree in college all day most of the time, just chatting. I miss that tree already. Come to think of it, there aint no mango tree in the new college, there isn’t even any tree whatsoever.. Dang!!

This story won’t be complete without mentioning a certain cute gurl who had caught my attention right from the very first day in 1200LT. She was always flanked by two dudes though. She seemed to hardly go anywhere without them; I never quite understood why. I never failed to let her know how beautiful she is though, so much so that an anonymous photographer took a hidden picture of me in the act.

My first two years in the university were awesome generally. Educationally, my sophomore sucked. You cannot afford to resist those college gurls.. 😡

life is too short to leave important words unsaid..

HISTORIA VITAE MEAE Vol. 3

iyán l’oúnje

Okà l’ògùn

Àìrí rárá làá jèko 

Kénu máàdúró ni ti gúgúrú

My grammatical foundation was laid in my JSS classes. I was fortunate to be guided through English language through out my secondary school days by the same stern and knowledgeable teacher. His linguistics and grammatic prowess cannot be over-emphasised. This story however is about the legion of capable yoruba teachers I had in my secondary school days.

An elegant woman first took me through the formal learning of my native language. She was tall, dark, graceful, kind and in her early 40s. She also happened to be my literature teacher. Look, she is an Ibadan descendant and as such no one can fault her for reading us the ‘tiri musisians’ in our literature classes. Actually, I happened to always choose that reading period to remember my roots too. I often, or shall I say the whole class often uncharacteristically read those two words out loud everytime. The tiri musisians, an awesome read.  

My second yoruba teacher prepared me for my junior WAEC. She was dark and beautiful too. She doesn’t believe in capital punishments. She prefers talking sense into us whenever we err and she often makes us feel understandably remorseful. She knows her trade and she taught me well; quite evident in my WAEC result. She laid my foundation in word markings (àmì). She was so good that the only Igbo guy in my class then fit put àmì ontop àròko.

To my favourite miss Adeola, how can I ever forget you? I still actually can’t fathom how a beautiful lady like her would enthusiastically study Yoruba in the university. Anyways, she was the only fair Yoruba teacher I had. She was so beautiful and she was my very first older crush. The thing was, three male teachers were publicly courting this lady. Put me in that mix and you would realise I had absolutely no chance (I was in SSS 1 BTW). Yet, I publicly experienced and felt what all three of my teachers could only secretly wish and long for- to rest their head on her delicate bosom.

Honestly, I didn’t ask for it. I couldn’t even ever have longed for it. Yet, there I was, pressed tightly against her soft, warm skin. I had just lost a quiz competition to the best grammarian in my school- my social prefect. I lost by a single point and the moderator could have given me the points I needed to win, but he didn’t because I replied ‘Nigerian Orientation Agency’ instead of ‘NATIONAL Orientation Agency.’ I found tears falling from my eyes outta anger and frustration. Then came her soothing embrace, her soft hands on my head, drawing me closer and her tender words in my ears. NO! I can’t forget that moment and that awesome lady. Long will she live in my memory.

My last teacher was a short, intelligent man though and yes, he was dark. He notably taught me ‘ifaara’ and ‘áyan ògbìfò’ and I credit him for the distinction I had in my SSCE.

Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind,it doesn’t matter..

MIRIFICUM

I don’t know much, but what I know, I know very well..

There are different kinds of girls. Worst still, there are numerously different modes of action and thinking levels of girls in similar groups. Simply put, girlhood is complicated.
In this assessment, I have decided to group girls into the following categories:

1- Girls who know what their significant-other wants.
1i- Girls who know and give their significant-other what he wants.
1ii- Girls who know what their significant-other wants but won’t give him.

2- Girls who do not in the very least know what their significant-other wants.

Most girls know what their significant-other wants, but the million dollar question is ‘do they readily give?’ It is one thing to know what he wants and not give him and it is another thing to not know what he wants totally. We can all agree that this is the worse group of girls ever. There is indeed no doubt that guys hold in high esteem girls who spontaneously and effortlessly decipher what they want and require in a given situation and provide them unconditionally.

PS; You need orientation and better still, see me if while at this stage your mind is centered at sex being the ‘what they want.’

Back to why this was written, I was recently treated to an all expense paid date and as much as I enjoyed myself, the experience highlighted the masculine urge and tendency to take charge and foot bills.

For the first time on a date, my wallet remained in my pocket. Simply put, it was awkward. I couldn’t help but notice the girls behind the counters steal occasional glimpses and surprised stares at me as she made payments. Being the cucumber that I am, I kept a cool, seductive smiley face. I think I even winked at one. 😉

It happens to be my best date till date not primarily because she foot the bills, but because I took a step backwards for the first time on a date and watched her take charge. I enjoyed being treated to a date but it’l take a persuasion for a second act. 😀
What better way to cap a wonderful evening than to see Johnny Depp’s ‘The Lone Ranger.’Thanks b, you rock..

HAPPY NEW MONTH FOLKS AND THANKS FOR FOLLOWING THIS ECCENTRIC MIND..

HISTORIA VITAE MEAE.. Vol. 2

..The choice is yours; either to be the king or to be the dog..

I had a chance to go to the Unity Secondary School in Abuja, the Federal Government College in Ogbomosho and even Command Day Secondary School, Ibadan. I turned them all down because of the distance, the bad idea of staying in a boarding school and the well publicised strictness respectively. I spent two weeks in Ikolaba Grammar School though, before moving to a nascent private secondary school. That decision in the long run proved vital.

As earlier established, I was cantankerous. Going to a boarding or day-public school would have added gasoline to my inflamed character. I would have, simply put, gone rogue. Thank God my parents realised this.

I had an enjoyable secondary school education, complete with arguably the best English language teacher around at that time. I learnt and taught English language. I had to, my teacher sabi beat. Talking about my GNS teacher here would be highly controversial though. Let’s just leave it at his linguistic prowess.
My secondary school story won’t be complete without the numerous feminine related controversies.

I made my first enemy in Jss1 when I gave a Jss2 girl a ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEETHEART’ card. The enemy was a classmate and keen admirer of the girl. We fought it out physically most of the time but I don’t think either of us got the girl’s heart. She has a child now tho :D..

I got my first real girlfriend in SSS2. You have to know that in those days, girls were not always the priority even for a boy like me especially in the kinda school I was. Also, being the SP, there were enough responsibilities and role-playing to keep me in line. The good thing however is, as the SP, you always get who you want. Girls so much love guys in any position of authority and power.

On a bright, cold morning, news got to me that a cute young girl was in the library, taking the entrance test (the bearer of that good news is now a pastor BTW 😀 ). I left my class with keen interest and headed for the library. There she was, beautiful and graceful. I still remember her long hair, thin voice and a much bigger bosom than her age would suggest. The rest they say is history.

On a controversial note, I had a rather challenging SSS3. A certain girl engaged me in incessant midnight texting and unfortunately for us, her dad got to read one of my romantic texts and reported the case to school. It so happened that she has been texting me with her dad’s phone. Only the dopest of us had mobile phones back then though, so you can’t blame her.

I can’t seem to forget that life-changing day when my gf and her friend approached me in school to ask what really makes me academically proficient. To be honest, I didn’t know. All I told them was to study late into the night. Afterall, that was what I always do and that exactly is what I have to thank for my poor sight. That inquiry propelled me to study more and harder. I realised I had cuties to impress.

Naturally, it aint uncommon for the male and female senior prefects to have a mutually shared affection. I however have a good buddy of mine to blame for interrupting what would have been a fantastic kiss with my head girl on one very cool evening in school. You suck bro!!

The kinda school I attended, the type of education I got, the caliber of people I met, the level of responsibility I took on, the kinda man the controversies and tribulations made me, I gatta admit, I couldn’t have wanted it any better. I was basically beaten and punished throughout, but it was pretty much worth it..

——————UNCHAINED—————–

nostalgia (deep)..

And instead of using force, I should just have let you win..

I used to know a certain beautiful girl. She was young, naïve but very strong. She holds her ground pretty well.
Lemme talk you through this episode. It is about one gurl and one gurl only. The only gurl to keep me grounded for two years.

For most, a couple of years isn’t a big deal. For a guy like me, it’s ages. You see, I get tired of reoccurring acts and actions pretty easily. As much as I’m always in control, I appreciate those special peeps that break through my defence system.

I used to live and breathe WESTLIFE.. In my early university days, all I sang (to my hostel-mates’ delights and sometimes chagrins) were their awesome blues. Naturally, gurls love a handsome guy with a good and romantic voice. So, I was popular with the new girls.

It was a cool evening, the perfect day to fall in love. Right in front of me sat a black epitome of beauty. Dark eyes, black hair, piercing but withdrawn gaze, full of grace. Alas, it was the same gurl I thought at first wasn’t respectful. She turned out pretty humble and welcoming. Young gurls, always trying to hold their fort with a begrudging first impression.

I had this wonderful first chat with this cutie and more scintillating tete-a-tetes followed, mostly at dusks. Just so you know, the best conversations are had at night, when the wind and the birds set the tone for your romantic deliveries (if you’re loaded anyway). I enjoyed those times, nostalgic even and I do miss them.

I remember she said, ‘i’m too young to have a boyfriend.’ My response was funny, but she believed it. I remember I promised to be there, and God knows I did my best. It was a brother’s kinda love, a best friend’s too. Everytime I listen to Solidstar’s ‘Perfect girl’, her picture pops up in my head. Not because she was perfect, but because she ‘always follow my instructions’ and that was why I gave her all the attention.

Ladies have to know, the key to a real man’s heart is good delicious food; Plain simple! No one cares about the Mary K that you’l eventually wash off. A real nigga derives pleasure in having a gurl that can make him bite his fingers off. In this girl, I had a great, caring cook. I don’t exactly suck at cooking, but having that feminine touch with my meals was awesome. If nothing else, I miss those dinners.

Girls who ask for nothing deserve everything. Yes, she deserves everything. I choose to remember the good times and I definitely appreciate meeting such a wondrous creature. If situations and times were different, I’m sure she would have made a great wife. If I was faced with similar choices, I would have chosen US against the world. I still feel guilty for my hugest mistake but God knows I tried to right the wrongs.

I can’t sleep, only because I’m wheezing and I find myself writing this, so don’t sweat it baby..

did I ever say i’l love you forever? Even if I said I would love you forever, I must have been outta my mind..

HISTORIA VITAE MEAE.. Vol. 1

I wasn’t born with a silver spoon, infact, my spoon wasn’t bronze either; but glory be to God, it wasn’t exactly plastic..

Truth is, I started off at the very bottom. My story is the definition of ‘humble beginnings.’ The journey has been crooked but absolutely exciting. Looking back, I just can’t but give thanks to the supreme being.

I started off as an average young boy, full of life and with a glowing smile to match. Being the only son and last born of a military man, I didn’t get all the freedom nd playtime I would have wanted. I wasn’t even allowed to play football with other kids (any young boy will tell you how much that hurts). It was like I was a project, designed to succeed on all fronts. Every end of the term report sheets were scrutinised and I couldn’t just afford to have a subject marked in red pen. Worse still, the class teacher’s and headmaster’s comments were always checked and the fact that I was so very stubborn were always boldly pointed out.

You have to know I wasn’t the brightest boy in my class. Actually, I was always behind 3 very brilliant boys (One of them is currently a medical doctor in the making and another is a graduate of mathematics, so I think you get the point). I wasn’t dull either, I was pretty much above average (around 70-80%). These boys were the only reason I never get to take home prizes at the end of every school session.
It wasn’t until I got to Primary 6 that I was able to knock one of them off his perch. My primary school classmates were so brilliant the top10 positions were always a feisty fight.

I really was stubborn and bullish. So much so that I was appointed the school’s ‘Assistant Compound Overseer’ in primary 4. You see, there were health and labour prefects, but I guess the headmaster thought the school needed a strong hand in keeping the school environment clean, hence my appointment. Anyway, I actually enjoyed making the cute girls pick up dirts.

Talking about girls, you have to understand that despite being bullish, I was pretty shy with girls. I was a recipient of 12 hot strikes of a water-soaked cane for writing a love letter to my first crush in Primary 4. The girl was the cutest and most colourful lotus in school and getting caned heavily because of her was worth it. I didn’t eventually win her heart but I was fulfilled in the knowledge that she knows I hold her dear.

However, I had to beat a girl up in Primary 6. She sat with her legs wide open and my friends and I just had to stare. Her friends told her and she took it out on ONLY me. You all can agree that isn’t fair, so I lifted her up in the sky and dropped her face first into the dirt (wrestling style).
I was bad like that..

On a more solemn note, I had quite a good and unforgettable primary school education. I do not miss it though.. The ‘iya’ was just too much..
Stay tuned for volume 2, stay blessed..

THE REAL ME.. Vol.1

‘miscellaneous minds are never explaining their minds..‘
Bad tempered, hostile, proud, egoistic, egocentric, nag, clown, sweet-mouthed and player are just some of the words that I have been described with. Somebody even thought I go wild when I don’t get what I want. On the other hand, some people have made me out to be kind, sweet, funny, amazing, comfy and even loving. If you ask me, I would deny some of these attributes, both the positive and negative. However, since most of these qualifications came from people who actually do know me  and have/have had dealings with me, they cannot be entirely ignored.

I love my friends, the closest of them I consider family which I cannot trade for anything! some I have gone through thick and thin with, others I have shared intimate moments (uhmm, I dont entirely mean what you are thinking), while I have not even met some and yet we relate like we see eachother everyday. What can I do without my real friends?? I dread to answer that.

Truth be told, I am a perfectionist but I am not in any sense flawless. You are more likely to see me frown at my toothpaste tube being middle-pressed by a friend than me have dinner ready for that same friend. Also in my twisted world, I make fun of those particular friends that I love and cant do without.  So, it is always the case that I hit, frustrate and swear at my besties. This is just me, dont blame me for it.

You would think being born into a family that consists of 4 ladies would make things easy for the only guy but dang! I do miss having an older bro. Amusingly, I never relate with the female side of my family on matters relating to womanhood or how ladies think or act. I just cant be bothered! however, when your sister calls you up and along the line told you you have to be with a gurl that cares about you, you just gatta listen!  Some cords being struck..

I’ve been in love, it is painful, pointless and overrated. It is however the best thing in the whole universe. If only fools fall in love, count me in! OK relax, more about the dreaded four letter word will come in the 2nd volume of this series. Keep it locked down!!

On a final note, I’m moderately-tempered and I never carry my angst forward. I dunno if I nag but I’m definitely not hostile, egocentric, egoistic, proud or a player (whatever that means). I want the best always, and I require my friends to too, so I may appear to be very demanding. DONT BLAME ME FOR IT!