Archive for December, 2011

Keep Quiet and Listen

If only the whole world would keep quiet and think of the consequences of the noise its making, lots of words and less of meanings. Very big tummy, more tumour than pregnancy. The internet made talks even cheaper and it’s getting grossly worse. Anybody with half a brain can voice opinions that belong in the toilet. Things you should say to yourself and pretend you can’t even hear you.

So much loud noises around me, fire crackers, wrong music, hawkers and silencer-deficient cars. If only the world could take a minute and be quiet, be still, think things through before acting through things. We would realise more than we know. If everybody would empty their minds in dead silence, then I can concentrate on things that are pivotal. So much advices and apologies, both always are following each other these days. I hate it when someone with absolutely no idea about what I’m doing trying to launch advices into my head. Keep quiet! Let me think.

Would our leader just shush already? His silence loos so beautiful, it shows how collectively a fail the electorate is. The better half should know better than not to even keep quiet. It gets into my head and it drives me nuts. He had no shoes and now we are about to have no fuel. With the send forth of Santa being ceremonially done with some bomb blasts, we can kiss our security goodbye. Wait, we have none! Maybe if we had been mute we would’ve understood why the old general cried. So sad that the disruptions have gotten so much and we just can’t have some minutes to think. Shut up and read on!

I wish some people’s quietness could measure up to their mental anorexia. Out of the deficiency of their head, their mouth yarns dust. They are always around us, in restaurants, buses, viewing centres, concerts and even parties. The only place to enjoy some quiet seem to be on a bike with a mallam rider, you both really have nothing to discuss. Bliss. Everyone seem to have an opinion, albeit as little are supposed to see the sun, while some outrightly deserve jail terms. The conception, birth and weaning of social media peppered the cauldron and people tweet when they have a slight headache (get well soon, but we don’t wanna know! We don’t give a crap).

Money fades and love consequently fades faster. So much love songs that I think they paint an unrealistic picture. Shush! Maybe if you are quiet, your lovers and haters would differentiate; shout on they integrate. Calculus wasn’t thought because it was fashionable, it had reasons (My legitimate bragging rights here please).

The noises are increasing. Pities, apologies and other sad tales inclusive. As much as i desire to be heard, i prefer to listen and hear. If only the church of God would keep quiet and listen, they would not give wrong worship. If they would mute up, they won’t be quick to judge. If I love Rihanna for anything (apart from her prettiness), it’s for the fact that she did a track titled ‘shut up and drive’. Get off the BBM and yahoo messenger and keep quiet to listen to your inner spirit.

So many interruptions in our daily lives from TV, internet, music, sports, sex, chat, mobile phones and mosquitoes. The art of meditation has been long lost just shy of when morals became a thing of shame. Whatever you do, try to take time to actively shut up and think. Infact, just keep quiet.

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Somewhere I Belong

It’s not exactly easy to start writing with some witty funny lines and expect the whole blogosphere to jump to the adulation of the beauty of the painted scenario. The grace for that was dampened and trampled on, in the short term, by our dear Power Withholding Company who decided to live up to their name and calling despite all thoughts and plans to the contrary. Let’s assume I had thoughts and had no plans, which is my fault, but you don’t wanna know how I ironed.

Merry Christmas to all, everybody, all my lovers and my lovers; I worry less about the population at the other end of the food chain. Let me go to where my thought was today; the church.

The church I grew up in as a young lad was rather looking strange in a funny kinda way. I got to the Sunday school class and the usual suspects (or sidekicks) were not there. Slightly depressed, I chose to listen to the message of Christmas before the main church service. By the way, the more the teacher was talking about the ‘virgin Mary’, I couldn’t help but see the look on the faces of the youths there as that title looked more to have gone with the era of baggy jeans and Barry White.

Did I say youths? My word, they were kids and i suddenly noticed that most of my mates were no longer there, probably married or something and some were at the elder section (Don’t dare say your mind there!!!). Kids I knew when they were born or that I ate at their naming ceremony are now yards taller than (already tall) me, made me feel like I’ve been out of a particular party. The kids were grown and I could notice it.

Seeing the new church building all grown up too gave me some gusto, so much enchantment that it transcends diarrhoea induced ecstasy. Saw some people that actually know me and some that don’t. For pete sake! I’ve not been out for that long. Have I?

Someway, somehow, I knew I was back where I was always as a kid growing up in the boring state capital. I know I’ve found somewhere I belong.

Life Trapped Inside The Lifeless

The whole world chose a moment to be silent, it was a moment when nothing was heard and nothing was made. A silence so loud it would be heard all across the other celestial bodies. A black hole in the infinite light of life that is trapped in the looming hands of death. He was shouting but nothing was heard, he was screaming but he couldn’t hear his own sound. The depth if the nothingness was so great it swallowed him totally. It was drowning for him to know, nothing he said was heard.

He could see his mother crying and wailing with her face sunk in her wet palms. His father could only wrap his arms around her as trickles of tears ran down his cheek, his glasses doing nothing to shield the flow down to his chin. The doctor stood a yard away as he stared at the nurse and glanced occasionally at the David as he said “We tried our best professor, but the fall was too great and the stairs edge was sharp, I’m sorry”. The professor couldn’t mutter a word, behind the quiet sobbing face is a man saddened with the way his life had turned out. “He is our only son Doctor! Please do something, anything” the mother cried out in pain. “I’M STILL ALIVE” screamed out David, but only he could hear himself.

The boy could hear them, could see them and was shouting and screaming “I’m alive Dad. Mum, I’m not dead! are these medical people this inept!? Why can’t they see that I’m not dead.” But it was all to himself. His spirit was alive but his body was dead. He was a lighted fire inside a tunnel, it was all bright on the inside but gloomy on the outside. “If only someone could hear me speak! I hope they don’t bury me alive like this” He said to himself as he struggled to make movements to the outside world to show that he was still alive. Bursts of screams in between squirms of sobbing dampened his already flooded soul. Thoughts ran through his head, “What if they do not hear me? What if they just assume i’m dead? What if they give up and throw me into the hole next to the soakaway?” Sadness took its place firmly in his heart and nothing of comfort could bring itself forth from his doom and gloom.

David had lived a quintessential life of luxury and affluence. He was son to a professor and a wealthy society woman, with everything in life being thrown at him even before the snap of his fingers. He never had to lift a fist to get anything and he epitomized what in modern day would be called a spoilt rotten imbalanced child. He never saw his parents agree on anything, but they never got a divorce. He had walked in on his father consummating two househelps and this further led to his damaged childhood. He always wished he could bring them together, but he always tore them apart the more. 10 A.M in the morning on the fateful day and he had an early dose of his normal alcohol, only to slip and fall off the stairs. If there was anything that made him happy in his awaken mode, it was to see his father holding his mother so close.

“I can see his fingers moved Doctor” the nurse said, much to light a tiny spark of hope in the hearts of the depressed parents. The doctor moved close and observed and said “He could still be alive prof, there is still hope”. “There has always been hope! You guys won’t just see it! At last, I’m gonna live not die” replied David. Frantic movements started playing out as the doctor and nurses were getting their different machines out to resuscitate the body of the young boy. “His pulse is returning doctor” the nurse said. A tiny little smile broaded the lips of professor and they kept on hoping. “I can’t wait to tell you guys what I’ve been through and how good you look together finally” David said, much to the deafness outside of his body.

“Oh damn! What is happening?! I’m feeling stifled and weaker! What could be wrong again?“ David pondered at the sudden inexplicable turn of event.

“The pulse is gone sir!! His nose is bleeding heavily sir. We’re losing him” the nurse snorted out to the doctor who made some apparent moves and activities before covering the body, moved away and said “We lost him a few seconds ago, you just weren’t paying attention”

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