My words are nothing

I found it today, the book
the one that you had written at the back,"lovely"
and so I thought of all things lovely
and went to visit you on facebook
I wanted to know that you were okay
and all things bad were at bay
yes, you were alright I guess
joining groups and playing games, maybe chess
I sighed at your page, full of comments and such
none of them from me, guess I am too hurt for such
so with a deep sigh, I left your page
cos I write you all the time, yesterday almost a page
but my words are nothing to you, if they are not on facebook.

Sonny Okosuns

A friend of mine just told me that Sonny Okosuns is no more....he was part of a very happy childhood of mine and I used to perform so many of his songs in the living room with all the dance steps and everything....here is one of his videos that I used to act to perfection so many years ago. Thank you for the music. Rest in peace.

And in another time...this was he..(short documentary)

14th and Serenity

Eurovision

Yes, I watch Eurovison song contest, every year. And every year its the same shit. All the former USSR countries vote for themselves and "mother Russia" and all the former Yugoslavian countries vote for themselves and "Serbia".God Forbid that these two countries are not in the top five, with all the "ex" countries, no chance of that ever happening. That being said, no matter how much I shout and curse at the TV that "this is my last time of watching this shit", the next year will see me following the whole thing all over again.

For those that missed it this year, don't worry, it was the same shit. Here is a brief summary of how it went down....

First of all, Eurovison, without the usual hot chicks? Never!

and you know, the nordic countries are always delivering the usual high powered disco songs....

with the exception of Finland of course, where hard rock flows in their viens....

No surprises here from the Belgium....

Big surprise from Turkey, was expecting the usual shitty techno...

No surprise at the winner...the shittiest song of them all, Congrats mother Russia...

If you wanna watch the comedy show, go to :http://www.eurovision.tv/page/home

Until next year, when the whole circus starts again! and you bet I'll be watching!

GERMAN LOOKING FOR ROOM WITH SHOWER

or alternatively, world domination through blitzkrieg

That is what I saw written on a notice board, a German was looking for a room with shower, and some witty person had written that underneath. At first, I found it so funny, even hilarious and laughed to my heart's content. Then, I thought of the poor German, who was looking for a room. He had put that sign up, and now some person just had to remind him of a past that he really had no hand in...wasn't that funny and witty sentence racist? What if the German was actually a Jew whose grand-parents had all died at concentration camps? What if it was a runaway 19 year old that was in a sensitive situation right now and just needs a damn room....

Well, to get my mind off that notice and the sentence written under it, I wrote this story instead...ehhhh, in a seminar...could not stop thinking of that notice and that sentence underneath...and it still cracks me up...and then I feel bad...



The German
I walked by Janet's desk, she was her usual bubbly self, but today she seemed more bubbly than usual if that was possible. I hated her before I got to her desk. I hated her before she told me why she was so happy, extra smiley, and extra bubbly. Her desk had the usual assortment, fresh flowers, pictures of her family, a box of candy and a small teddy bear. Did she not know that she was over thirty? Had that memo somehow missed her at some point in her life? She was reading the letter out to the other airheads who had nothing better to do on a Tuesday afternoon than listen to her pathetic stories....

"Hey Laura! Have you heard?"

What could I possibly hear? What could be so important in life for me to stop half way on my journey to my cigarettes? There is nothing, nothing that could possibly come between me and my cigarettes...

"The German wrote Janet a letter"

I stopped.

"What? Is that what she is reading?"

"Aha! So now you are interested, come on, Betty is just about to read it out loud"

I walked to her desk where the giggles were already getting to that infectious stage...when women begin to hold hands and play with each other's hair...

"Come Laura, sit here, beside me"

"I don't get it, why are you reading his letter out loud? Should it not be private?" I looked around, for some sort of solidarity.

"Private? Since when?" snorted that ugly cow, Beatrice.

"Is there nobody here who thinks this is just a little bit childish?" I looked at Vivian, she was almost fifty, she might have some sense...

"Not when it comes these freaking idiots in this office, please read it!"

And so, Betty opened the letter sent to Janet by the German and began to read in the most irritating accent possible, a mixture of French and Dutch...a most terrible sound...

My dear Janet,

I have thought about writing this letter a thousand times, every time I have passed by your desk, I have thought of this letter. I can no longer hide my feelings from you, so I can only hope that you read this letter with....

I stood up from the desk, I felt disgusted with everything and everybody...


"Where are you going ja? You don't want to listen Ja?" asked Betty in the accent that now seemed to have turned Russian

"It is pathetic"

I walked out into the cold, where Hans stood, smoking a cigarette. He was the German, transferred from Berlin over a year ago. He was tall, had blonde hair and blue eyes and I had slept with him the week before...

"You did not return my calls"

"I have been too busy"

"You did not even send a text"

"You know how busy I have been, I was going to do so"

"When?"

He looked at me with irritation, and took a last drag out of his cigarette before tossing it expertly at the ashtray.

"I was going to call you today...anyway, we need to talk...I do not want any relationship now anyway...I need to get settled in England properly and you are complicating things now...I do not need any complications now that everything is going so well"

"Okay, see you around then"

I walked back to the desk of giggling girls

"Hey Laura, can you believe that German actually thinks he has a shot with her?" That was the cow, again.

"His name is Hans you know, he has a name"

"He is such a loser, don't you agree?"

"Wholeheartedly"

The long walk

Each of us is several, is many, is a profusion of selves. So that the self who disdains his surroundings is not the same as the self who suffers or takes joy in them. In the vast colony of our being there are many pieces of people who think and feel in different ways- Fernando Pessoa
The stones were where they've always been but today I saw them differently, everything seems to be different when light touches upon them. The path I always walked on was now green and overgrown with weeds and flowers, tulips and so much more. When I started walking, all I could think about was how beautiful it all was, the path, the trees, the green, the sea...the path by the sea...it was all so beautiful and I walked on. The path took me like it always did, somehow, I was no longer there, no longer this human who had seen this a thousand times before...suddenly, I felt like I could see something else that no one could...I could see life in all its form, blossoming and doing the things that we will never know how to...be alive.Everything was so alive and I walked down this path of living things....I walked down and when I got to the middle I pulled you close to me and kissed you, a long and passionate kiss as they say...I gave you a long and passionate kiss and said "I love you" but as soon as I had done that...I wanted to weep....I wanted to put my hand on my breast and weep....I had seen a woman do that once...in a film...she was scared that her child was dead and so she put her hand on her breast...right inside her shirt, it looked like she was soothing her breast...I have thought of that action so often...was it the action of a mother yearning for her child....even though he was now a grown man...was it the action of a mother thinking..."with these breasts I fed him?" or was she soothing herself as we humans are wont to do...we put our hands on different parts of our bodies and soothe ourselves...is that what she was doing?
I have thought about that often but today, on this path....all I want to do is curl up and put my hand on my breast and weep. I want to scream, I want to cry so badly with a hand on my breast and I know why I will do that, it is because it hurts so fucking much. You are not on any path with me. You are not with me. I am alone, walking on this path and I can not show you how beautiful it is, I can not show you the rocks or the trees or the stones or the sea...I can not show you because you are not here. Yet the kiss had seemed so real, your warm body against mine...it seemed so real and now I just want to throw up...

"Waffy, what are you thinking about?"

"About how you walk down this beautiful path and you have no one to share it with and then all of a sudden everything turns ugly...I could hit my head on this sharp rock and die...or this wooden bridge..I could lean against it and the rotten wood gives way and I just die and this beauty is now ugly...so fucking ugly...I feel like throwing up"

"You are so dramatic!"

Yes, yes, you get to be fucking dramatic when you want to lie on a path and put your hand on your breast and just cry...and throw up.

Not good enough

I am not good enough
when I smile, it is not wide enough
when I frown, it is not ugly enough
when I cry, it is not real enough
when I am happy, it is not fake enough
when I look at you, it is not long enough
when I ignore you, it is not short enough
whatever I do, my enough is never enough
I am not good enough

Writing this so my ribcage does not burst and shower my room with raw flesh and tiny pieces of bones!

I am fighting you every minute. You have taken pocession of my head and I want you out.You have found those cracks in my brain that no one ever sees. Those cracks that I fill with poems, short stories and eccentric musings...or so i believe. I have never known about the existence of those cracks until you came and filled them with your presence. Now I see those cracks for what they are, a bloody disadvantage in my already crazy world. You once told me I was mad, imagine how I would be without those cracks of mine? What would I fill, now that you have filled them with your presence? I wish I knew what to do, but I dare not say anything to you, lest you take your presence away...and I will be lonely....I will sit with the cracks in my head and fill them once again with poems, short stories and eccentric musings....and that will be so sad...to remove the only presence that has ever resembled love.

Kindly, do not ask me what this means...I have no idea.

SOLIDARITY!

Okay guys, those of you planning to go home for the summer, please use another airline, NOT BRITISH AIRWAYS.I just came back from Nigeria and I used Lufthansa. Here is how it went down at the BA offices in Nigeria where they felt the need to call mobile police for the unarmed group of decent Nigerians that went there to announce the begining of a boycott.

SOLIDARITY!

The times.....

Hello fellow bloggers, how have you all been doing? Sorry I have not been on your blogs lately, but I will catch up on all that has been going on in the next couple of days! Well, I was on a little break in Africa...I have always wanted to say that, (the way the Americans do, like Africa was a country or something!)yeah, I was in Warri, Delta State, Nigeria, West-Africa(this is how I describe where I have been to my my friends here, just trying to get them all, ehhhh, somewhat educated about Africa being a continent, I think it is working though, cos they no longer ask me about "swahili")anyway, I am gonna give you all the gist on what I've been up to.

The places:

Warri was still the same, the major problem being the fact that there is no fucking light. My mum was on "generator strike", she was protesting against the fact that after spending so much money repairing, fixing, praying and talking to the damn thing, the stupid thing was still "misbehaving" so she decided she was not going to fix it anymore....it felt like she had "beef" with her generator. I swear, their relationship was almost "human". Anyway, so due to her "strike", we had decided to enjoy our "romantic relationship" (thats what my mum says about the situation since we now have all sorts of shapes and sizes of candles all over the house) with NEPA or whatever the damn shit is called. Apart from that, Warri was still the same although some new joints had suddenly sprung up, went to an outside place called "OXYGEN", they had life band, was really a cool place and my childhood friends were as great as ever. I never pay a damn thing in that town, my guys always foot the bill even though I always feel like I am the one that is supposed to, but everybody always tells me the same thing "wetin dey do you? how you go come warri and we no go fit take you out? abeg, go siddon jare!"

Lagos was ehhhhh, okay, the truth is I have never liked that city, always hated the place cos of traumatic boarding house memories. I am still trying to stop throwing up anytime I see that "welcome to Lagos" sign. Anyway, met up with some old and new friends, went out a bit...ehen, so I was at SWE bar, where I bought a bottle of wine, (the name is "two oceans" a South African wine, any regular white wine drinker would know that is one of the cheapest you can get anywhere in Europe), so according to my calculations, the damn thing should not cost more than 1,500 naira, and believe me, i really put "jara" on top, anyway, I paid 4,500(okay, not me personally, but the kind gentleman I was with) for the damn thing. Four times the bloody price! and no one should tell me I am paying for the atmosphere cos the place was hot, full of people eating and drinking red bull(what's up with the "red bull" drinking in that country? especially the ladies, abeg, stick to your normal "malt", red bull is not "classier")and dancing to all the latest naija jams, everybody all snobbish as well...which is just hilarous!!!, what the fuck do you have an attitude for when you are doing the "yahooze"? heheheheheh, damn, that was really some funny shit....

The dreams

So much to do
So much to say
Oh if only someone would give me a chance!

I always feel like I am being "wasted" anytime I am in that country, I always have so many ideas and suggestions and they just twirl round and round in my head until I feel like I am about to explode! Well, well, one can only do what we can. At least I managed to stop an agbada wearing man with all his aides from jumping the queue at the airport. That's a start, no?

Blood, fire, love
love, fire, veins
Understanding......

Understanding that the blood in my veins will always be as fiery as ever...my heart will always long for those things that only dreams are made of....and there is nothing I can do about it. Except be myself. That's about it.

The poem
On a monday morning,you held me tight
and made me promise never to ask for more
If there was ever a time so right
that morning would have been perfect to say forevermore
But I shut my eyes and willed my heart not to fight
for things that you could not give anymore
So on a monday morning, I held you tight
and made a promise to let you go...forevermore.


The short story

Five years, that's what he had said, that's what she heard. Five years. She walked slowly to the window and looked down at the sprawling city beneath her. It was the same room and not much had changed it seemed, except her. Her hair was much longer now and a different colour. Her glasses were long gone, replaced with contacts. She stood in front of the mirror and adjusted her skirt, for the third time. She was nervous for it all to begin. Her new life, without excuses and fear, she would start a new life and have the home she had always wanted...only if he shows...only if he remembers...what if it had been a joke? what if, he had said it without meaning a word of it? but she knew what he had said, she remembered it...he had said it in this room, on this bed. It was five years ago, she was thirty-five then and had short hair and red glasses. She had met him like she met all her men those days, in a bar or club....drunk and high, it was not long before they left the bar they had drank in and ended up here...in this hotel, for two weeks. They had done nothing but make love, eat and listen to music. They danced in the nights and talked for hours about themselves. It was he, she knew. She had known even before his hand had reached across the table that night at the bar. She had known the minute he walked to her table and asked if he could sit with her and she had known these five years of endless waiting.

She remembered that night, when it had all ended as abruptly as it had begun.He took the call in the bathroom and when he came out, she was already dressed, in her new pair of jeans and white t shirt, bought from the little shop in the hotel. She sat by the edge of the bed, smoking.

"What are you doing in five years time?"

"What?"

"What are you doing in five years time?"

"No fucking clue. I don't know what i'll be doing tomorrow...how the fuck should I know what I'll be doing in five years?"

"Be here. Be here, in five years. The date will be the 26th of April 2008, be here and I'll be here"

"You are fucking kidding right?"

"Please, be here, please. 2008. 26th of April. Please"

"But five fucking years? what the hell does anybody need five years for?"

"I can't explain, just be here"

and he had left her life. Just like that. He had walked out of the hotel room and she had never heard or seen him again. He could be dead for all she knew, he could be dead, in a ditch somewhere....he could be blind....he could be married...somewhere....she was a fool, coming here, like this. They had both been high that morning, maybe he never said that...maybe he had said another date and she had missed it...maybe....

Her heart was beating now, and it took her a while to walk the short distance to the door. She opened it....

"Did we have a password or something? you sure took your time opening the door!"

She did not faint, but she fell into his arms like her legs had given out...perhaps it was the relief of finally seeing him there, perhaps it was his curly hair which now had grey tones on them, perhaps it was his beautiful lips that were still as pink as she remembered them, perhaps it was the the single white rose he held....whatever it was, her legs gave out and she was in his arms....and it felt exactly like she knew it would.

Soon....

Hello my dear bloggers, sorry been away from blogging for a while but will soon be back....so, what's up with my usual life musings...well, these days, my brain has been very kind to me, apart from my usual crazy ideas and non stop future projects, I have been able to go through my weeks without insulting too many human beings. Although it has been tempting to avoid humans, I think I've been quite good with my "how the hell can they live with themselves?". I don't know how long this will last though, but it feels good not to be so hung up over little shit that I can not control. Freedom. Yeah, and life just became officially more complicated with the admission that....I just might be an alien. Yeah....I am looking for any sightings of ufos during and around the time of my birth....hehehehehehehehehehehe! yeah, I am laughing at my own joke....anyway, will be back soon to give you all the gist of what I have been up to. Until then, stay cool, and live for today.

Lots of love

For a darling.....

Ah! I know where your fear is...
but you see, I write on my blog often....
in drunken states and over boiled emotions
in feverish states and a weak heart...
in crazy times and in happy moments
I write here all the time...
to relieve these feelings from tired shoulders....
I have never been good at poetry...
Hope you understand.