A very public and much needed break up

When I first decided to cut my hair and go all natural I did so purely out of boredom. I needed a change so I sit off all my hair after blowing it out and straightening it. It was so simple; no sense of loss or betrayal as the locks fell to the ground. No sense of pride either; I just cut my hair.

Now, more than two years into the natural hair "membership/movement", I am bored once again. Unlike during the big chop, I am feeling pangs of guilt. In the past years I have had people come up to me to congratulate me on embracing my culture? I use a question mark because those compliments leave me very confused. Was I rejecting my culture before? What culture do they speak of? Does my natural hair curl to spell out nigerian, yoruba or igede on my forehead? Was my hair controlling my actions: was I somehow dancing an "african dance" as I walked? Did my accent somehow change or did I start to speak another language? Did I attend a black hair campaign? Did I pledge an allegiance to my tight curls? Did my natural hair come with tribal marks only visible to other beholders? So many questions. I am confused as to how my hair has suddenly made me an ambassador of my "black/african" roots. 

It also irks me that when I put my "natural" (I put natural in quotes because I don't know if my relaxed hair has suddenly become fake or no longer mine) hair in the same bun I used to put it in when it was relaxed, people ask me when I am going to do my hair. Or ask if everything is ok. Why should my hair be the focus and representative of me when I am standing right in front of you. Why should my hair speak for me when my mouth is just chilling right under it waiting to be used. Honestly, I have hung unto my natural hair membership mainly to irritate my mother. 

When I tell people that I am planning on relaxing my hair, I get "oh but it's so beautiful". It's like my hair is a person on it's own. A parasite whose opinion matters more than that of its host (me) - Yes I am slightly envious. But sometimes I feel guilt; that I may somehow be less of a cultural ambassador, that I am letting all the natural hair aspirants down. But alas, I am too bored to stay in this club, I need options. Maybe one day I will reactivate my membership but for now I need a break, a long break! Cutting my hair, dyeing it, relaxing it, texturing it, putting it up in braids cannot be the focus of our lives. I might stick with this hair longer if I find something new that tickles my fancy but really it could go any way. 

I no longer care and you shouldn't. Try not to bring people down because they are not walking the path you have chosen for yourself. 

The Dream is Now

OLD POST I FORGOT TO POST UP. REPLY TO HAPPYBUNI

Oh Happy Buni , do you know how happy and honoured I am that you asked me to write more on your topic. so thank you!!!

The Old times.
I know what you mean about how twitter, face book, msn, bbm and the rest make conversations harder. It doesn't just reduce the effort you make with people but it makes conversations harder. What are you supposed to say when you have already read everything about someone's day!

The old times.
When guys actually asked girls for one on ones, to give the girl a chance to get to know him better. Now if a guy spends more than one hour with you on msn it might mean he likes you. How the hell is someone not going to get confused about how the other party feels for them. Cause you can always chat for hours with even a random person if you are bored, but you cannot sit and have a LONG oral and physical conversation (face-face, cause i know some of you think video call is an oral and physical convo)with someone you are not interested in. WHat Happened to DATES people!?!?!?!

The Old times
When you'd actually go see someone when they said they were having a crisis, not people think that if they call everything will be alright. PEOPLE DON'T KNOW THAT WHEN SOMEONE CALLS TO TELL U ABOUT A CRISIS THEY WANT TO BE HELD PHYSICALLY AND TOLD EVERYTHIN WILL BE FINE. THEY WANT YOU TO COME AND WIPE THEIR TEARS!!!!. But no, msn, twitter, bbm, facebook, rogers, fido, mtn, and the rest have destroyed that. as Buni said *RIP*

The old times.
when people actually have old photo albums. Now if you want to see the face of the one you might- by some weird screwed up chance- miss you just go on facebook, see their face and be like oh my hunger has been satisfied. YAY!

The old times.

HEY GUYS I'M BACK!!!!

So I am sitting here listening to the radio. I love the radio,  you don't have to make a decision about what you want to listen to. I hate making decisions, stresses me out, SO MUCH! Probably why I love the older times 30s and older. hmmm, so I have no clue what I am going to write about. Everyone has been telling me to write regularly, even the "randomest" things (after all, what English Major goes days, weeks, months) without writing something?) Anyways, so I guess this is going to be a "HEY GUYS I'M BACK" post. So much has happened in the past two years, will be giving updates, well as honest and open as I can be. My friends know I talk ALOT without actually saying anything about what  or how I feel. So you all are going to be my sounding board/therapist.

I am thinking about changing the name of the blog to 22 unaccomplished and living on Parents. lol. I am not sure how many people are going to read this since I have been gone for so long, but I will write anyway. I find when I start writing, Things I didn't even think i was thinking starts flowing out. Ok, this is a long enough "HEY GUYS I'M BACK" post. I look forward to all the random thoughts that are going to flow from my head. Trust  me there are lots of random things jumbling around my head. OK BYE.

FINALLY

Okay so I haven't written in a long time... I am almost certain I have lost all my followers. Sorry, I have just been in a writing bind. But today I got a mail and there was a contest where I have to write a poem including ten words and it inspired me,because I have been looking for words and a way to describe the way I have been feeling the whole year. Well this is it... yes I know it is somehow depressing, but most of my writings including my poetry is. so try to enjoy it and please DO NOT PITY.

P.S I have to also thank Tomi aka Imoteda http://www.imoteda.blogspot.com/ because her last blog inspired me to write how I truly felt, without trying to sugar coat it or euphemise (i know it is not a word) it.

A WOMAN'S PLEA

The child is in a ball on the floor
Thinking of the quickest way to escape
She can hear their voices,
A voice definitely a woman is whispering between loud sobs
The other a man's is pounding on every stretch of her skin in confusion

In the darkness she cannot see their faces
But she knows the voices
If only she could dig up the faces from memories so tightly away

But she cannot,
That would be stirring the still clay pot of emotions
It would be destroying everything she worked so hard to build
But it is already falling apart,
The villagers are beginning to notice the cracks of the outside of the pot

In the race of time, daylight is winning.
The few hours before dawn is her only chance to decide.
The drugs are right in front of her, but the woman is sobbing louder.
She cannot concentrate
She is willing the woman to shut up, begging her
But even with her thoughts racing and yelling her scream stands out.
It is distinct.

Please let me go and don't cry for me
Don't let the morning dew blanket everything I have worked so hard to create
It will only signal the coming of the sun
Drying away all my beliefs of a perfect us
Please don't let the sun rise
I do not want to see their faces
Please allow this child's fantasy to become immortal.



Don't try to interpret this poem please. I hate it when people try to guess what it means to me. just leave it as it speaks to you.

MY CONCRETE BOX

But I am not okay!
I am dying!
No one can see my insides shriveling up
Even I cannot save myself

I do not know how to cry so i Sing
I cannot scream so i WHISPER.
but can you not hear the weeping in my song
Can you not hear my shouts in my whisper.

I have let in close enough to hear me cry the tears even I cannot cry
I have let you so close the hear my heart scream.

NO I am not okay!
I am dying,
You are too blind to see me suffer,
You are too deaf to hear me scream.
And I am standing outside myself, unable to help me.

I am dying but that is not why I am afraid.
I fear that I may one day be able to cry and never be able to stop.
I may be able to scream and scream I shall without end
And when I do you still will not hear me.

Open Relationships

HELLO,
It has been a long while. Quick update bout what's been going on in my life and then i will get to my motivation for this post. PERSONAL UPDATE= NOTHING, ZILCH, NADA, kosi about from school.

Now to Open relationships. I always wanted to talk on this subject and I have been putting it off for a while but some replies to my friend konfirmed's last post kind of emphasized the need to talk about this subject.

I do not really have anything against open relationships, I think it is an occurrence in life that cannot be rid of.

I don't think I need to restate the perks of being in these non-relationship, so i will go directly to this misconceptions or the facts that we have decided to turn a blind eye to.

As we all know, we are not inanimate objects which is why we can feel and we have emotions. A girl will see a pair of shoes she absolutely loves and even though she cannot afford them she will think of them for a month or so. A guy will see a computer gadget he cannot afford even before it is released and will visualise himself with it, till he can get it. People give names to their pets, and love their pets, cater to their pets, even cry when their pets die. People get hooked on drugs or painkillers, or a t.v show, or a book and for years to come, even after being separated still feel the void. My point?

How then can we expect that, although Joe and Josephine are strongly attracted to each other, neither one should feel an emotional stirring. No matter how shallow one is, I do not think anyone decides they want to be in an open-relationship with someone who they think is utterly disgusting, physically or personality wise. So it is bound to happen that after a while, your feelings about that person starts becoming stronger.

The reason why open-relationships fail is not because people fail to abide by the rule (don't get emotionally attached) but because people fail to realise that emotional attachment is bound to happen; some stronger than others, and some participants are better at hiding their feelings).

The perks of an open relationship, I think is not the freedom to do whatever, but the honesty a name-bound-relationship sometimes lacks. The ability for both partners to say how they feel at all times, to walk away when you are both on different levels and to decide to stay with the knowledge that it is just mere attraction which may or may not bloom into something more fruitful.

Random

some one once told me that "it is impossible to love others if you don't love yourself". That someone was my mother. She said this to me years and years ago but in my inexperience I said she didn't know anything. By now after sitting atop the fire of life for such a long time I know she is right.

But how do you know if you don't love yourself? How do you learn to love yourself when you have spent so long loving others and forgetting that you are in fact human?

Anyways, so I have been thinking of recent, as in really thinking about my capability of really loving someone. And for some reason I can't picture myself loving anyone. Of course, I love my friends and my family and will love my children. but I am talking about like a boyfriend or husband-kind of person. Like how do you love someone enough to open every aspect yourself up to them knowing fully well that they could hurt you and break you.

One of my exes told me that I am incapable of loving someone. I try to tell myself that it was him i was incapable of loving but i can't help to think in the back of my mind that maybe the problem is me. Maybe I am really incapable of loving, i dunno.

I don't know the ppoint of this post, but it feels good to just let it out. :D hope you are having fun...

SONIA'S ANSWER

Ok SO my friend Sonia posted these questions on facebook and wanted me to answer the, but i figured I need more that a few lines to answer them and that some other people might have these questions, so here are my thoughts.


1. what qualities do you look for in a partner.
well the most important is honesty. Most times you have to ask yourself what qualities do you have to give, cause you can't be unable to bring something to the table and expect your partner to. You can't cheat and expect your partner to be faithful, or lie and expect your partner to be honest at all times. You can't be lazy and expect the other to be diligent. IT JUST DOESN'T WORK IN A MATURE HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP..

2. would you forgive your partner if they cheated on you?Explain why you would and why you wouldn't?
The word partner is like lean bacon (sorry that's the best I could come up with). Why? For you to regard someone as your partner and not a boyfriend or a lover, it means you have learned to trust and love this person and regard them as your equal; you have trimmed all the fat off. Now to answer the question. I will... yeah I know. The question is will I get back with them? I might the first time they do. Depending on who with, the timing, the place, the why and the how?

3. Do you think sex is necessary in cementing a long term relationship? Expand.
No, I don't. Why? Did your parents think you had to pay rent for them to let you stay in their house? What's the relation ship between the two? Well once you start viewing sex as neccessary to keep you partner you might as well be paying them. If you don't want to do the deed and your partner thinks that you should for you to stay together then you shouldn't be with them. I am certain most guys and even girls want to do the dirty dirty but if they feel strongly bout you, they can hold for a little while. But you shouldn't tease them either. don't start what u can't finish.

4. Are we able to feel love to the full extent at this age?
No. Love grows everyday even adults don't feel love to the full extent. everyday and with every experience you learn to appreciate the other more.

Perfection

Striving for Perfection in a personal matter, though tough is easier, much more than when u have to strive with someone else. When you are striving alone, you can motivate yourself and always have other people to motivate you. When you feel low you can give yourself a pep talk, push yourself harder.

When you are with someone else, you can't push the other person to hard because you are afraid you might push them away, especially if it is with someone you love. For couple perfection you both have to have the same level of energy at all times, if not a seedling of resentment in the person who feels they are fighting and striving more.

The only sort of perfection you can create in a relationship is perfecting the acknowledgment of the fact that there is no way to gain perfection in a relation. Perfecting the act of turning a blind eye to faults in a relation and the significant other. But as we are human, we always aim for something higher, something within our grasp and when we have reached that level we want more.

Hence, there is nothing like a perfect couple or an almost perfect couple. We see a couple that strives for more than they have and that is the example we should follow. Although perfection is imossible, happiness is... So instead of striving for perfection, fight for happiness with the one you love and fight to help keep them standing cause that's the closest you will get to perfection...

HRM THIS IS FOR YOU.. SORRY IT'S LATE. XOXOXOX

OUR PERCEPTON

WE DON'T SEE THINGS AS THEY ARE WE SEE THEM AS WE ARE....

FULL BLOG COMING SOON

lol

With all the vehemence in me, I spit out
"I'd die a thousand deaths before..."
My spat is cut short when I see the look in his eyes, he's is begging me not to complete it but I know his mind is asking "before what?"
How do I know? He has on this pained expression, but his eyes bore into mine as if to say, 'go ahead complete it if you dare' Can I complete it?

I don't know if I can bring myself to hurt him, by telling him a lie, to hurt myself. But I need an effective way to push him away, a way to make him run so fast so far in the opposite direction. Usually I am really good at doing this, I always do it, so by now you'd think it'd be easier. But with him, it's so hard.
So I try again "I will die a thousand deaths..." this time I try not to look at his face but even then I cannot complete it because I know this is all a lie. I know that from the moment I complete it I will be living a huge lie. I would walk, talk, sleep, breathe and dwindle in the lie.
But I can't not lie, because if i don't I will have to tell the truth the whole truth, a truth I don't think am ready to part with.

I dare to look up, to let myself get sucked into the milky chocolate swirls of his eyes and I want to tell him. To let it flow, let everything come out, but I know if it is out it is always going to be hanging around both of us. With it hidden it is just hanging above my head. You see that's why it was so easy before, no one ever attempted to share it with me, no one knew it was there in the first place. We say nothing but speak volumes. Now I am the one who is begging him not to let me complete it, who is trying to mask the pain. But he sees it.

"before?"
I close my eyes as if to say "please let's forget this"
"before?"
in my head i say "please don't make me talk about this, don't let me make my issues your problem"
"but it is my problem," I guess i didn't really say that in my head.
"no it's not, I don't want it to be."
At this point I don't know if I should make my story an emotional tragedy or a nostalgic one, so we just sit and look at each other. The silence is slowly becoming awkward.

the end. :D

extremes of PASSION

Oh he touched me and I shivered,
Oh I shivered with a fever,
I could feel the goosebumps strain against my flesh,
I could feel his eyes travel through every inch of exposed flesh,
I could feel my dark skin grow hot,
Hot because I knew he was aware of the effect his stare had on me.
I could hear my heart thump loudly, wildly,
i knew he could see it because he smiled,
And then he touched me.
Oh I shivered violently.
Shivered from the heat he created in me.

He touches me and I have a fever,
Oh the fever causes me to shiver,
I am so hot, so hot I am afraid.
I can feel his eye rove around my body,
I can feel myself grew hot with thoughts of what I want to do to him,
The thoughts so horrid that I shiver,
I am cold all over, so hot,
My insides are so cold with hate,
He touches me and I shiver icy-hotness.
I close my eyes and replay all the things I want to do to him.
I open my eyes with a smile.

Oh, we are all smiling because I know I will never shiver.
Or will I?

Will the thoughts of that night make me so hot that I shiver?

Am I a BITCH??????

I am not sure anymore. So I need you guys to tell me. This isn't the first time my head is telling me that I am a complete bitch. At first I denied it, but this is like the third time in less than a month that I have questioned the presence of my very strong inner bitch. On a usual day, I'd say I wasn't but lately especially today, very bitchy thoughts keep zooming through my brain, in complete circles.

Like yesterday, for example, some of my friends and I were talking about cheating and what we'd do if we were going to cheat.. and i came up with some of the most brilliant ideas on how to cover up or justify it. It was almost as if I had thought about them before. The thing is I am not a pro-cheating person. then I was watching Entourage ad I find I actually like the guy code thing not spilling on your mate even to a mutual friend. You see, usually, as a girl I'd think it is okay to spill if you are doing it to protect that friend or someone else.

This weekend, I found I had to stifle myself quite a lot... as in a lot lot, like every 2 minutes. When someone said something I thought was completely stupid, I'd want to turn around with an incredulous look on my face and say "you are such a dumb fuck, even a dumb fuck would think you were dumb" or say "are you listening to yourself?, I don't meaning hearing your voice but actually listening to the words your are actually letting out of your mouth?" I know it's normal to think this like once in a month, but I think them a lot!

Some days ago, I actually had an argument in my head about if I thought someone was stupid or just an idiot. And I actually thought of the difference between the two. You see a stupid person you can educate, they are just slower than usual, like you'd call a dog stupid when they are slow getting a Frisbee. An idiot, you can't teach because trying to educate one is more impossible than anything i can think of at the moment.

But I CANNOT be a bitch!!! I didn't say these things out loud. I practiced self-control and kept quiet. Should I reward myself for that? I don't know. I really think I am almost the sweetest person I have met. People that have met me or read my blog, do you think, I am a Bitch or just realistic?

PRE Second Order of Disorder

SO i was going to go ahead to my second order of disorder, but I can't remember what I was going to tallk about so yeah. I will try and remember or I may forget about it all together. SUPANOVA SUPANOVA SUPANOVA!!! yeaah yay.. Ok bye Stalkers

First Order of disorder

Hello Ever -Welcomed Stalkers,

I have actually lost track of time, so I can't remember when exactly my last post was. if it was a long time ago and you have come on more than 3 times in search of an update, I am sorry. If you got on here by accident and really didn't want to read a new post from me, I am sorry too. :D Well Well Well. Where to start. WHERE TO START.

Well, I have been having more-random-than-usual thoughts of late, So I'll just address everyone of them in order of no order at all.

Well my aunt, a friend of hers and I were talking about invites in this country and how people actually send F.Y.I invites. yeah I didn't know what they were till I think last week (again my inability to track time). Well F.Y.I invites are invitations to say "oh I am getting married oh I just had a baby(you know announcements for stuff you have parties for), but you are not invited for the party, we are just telling you so that you can send presents". IMAGINE!!!

How come here on a normal day, in this part of the world they are willing to spend all their savings on shoes and shopping and electronics, but on what they refer to the most important day of their lives they are worried about spending their life savings. Back home it is entirely different, because on a normal day, they complain about how expensive pure water is, and on their wedding day they spend even what they don't have. Did you know that here, some people make their bridal party buy their dresses and stuff.
p.s I am not criticizing anyone, I am just wondering if it is possible to do both- spend lavishly and save for the rest of your life? I don't know why I am discussing this- told you it is more random than usual. I am just practicing for when I become a columnist for a bridal magazine- amongst other things


I think it is possible. I propose having a savings account for your wedding. People you best be making notes for future purpose.

Yeah... For a year, whatever you earn that you'd usually put in savings for your future house and kids and whatever else,just put it in your bridal account, even if you are not sure about getting married. Or you could do it for the first two years you get a steady income, because that is when parents are most understanding and want to help you get somethings. Why not let them get you that house or car they are offering to get you. So when the time comes you can spend everything in your account -the BRIDAL account.

Guys who are reading this, - I doubt many guys will read my bridal column when I do get one- you probably wouldn't want to get weird looks from the banking staff when you are opening this account. There's a solution, simply open an account for the future Mrs. Lagbaja. Trust me you will probably need it. Because the future Mrs. is a career woman doesn't mean she doesn't like being spent on...

Thank you Stalkers for letting me practice on you, though I doubt any of you finished reading it. :D

I love you still

Don't trust me.

Hello, my slacking stalkers.

Been less than a minute, but so much and so little has happened in that time. Yeah I figured what was making me depressed. DON'T LAUGH. I miss school, and having no time for myself, and writing essays, and having to think a lot. I hate it when my mind is blank or my thoughts are mundane. I like having to get into the minds of depressed authors and figuring out what they were thinking or imposing thoughts on them. it's so nice, I love and miss school. Yeah I know I'm weird and different and special and anything synonymous to that.

Now to the main purpose of my blog.

I don't know if I am just myself or if other people think this way, but I can never ever trust anyone who says "trust me". Well it takes me a long time to trust people under normal circumstances, I don't even fully trust Gandhi, and he seems like a pretty good person. I feel like people who say "trust me" or "don't you trust me" have something to hide or are omitting a big part of their story, they just want you to get into stuff blindly. Why would you ask someone to trust you if you haven't given them a reason to. I would rather go into a cave with a stranger who says "I don't think it's wise for you to trust me" than go in with an acquaintance who says "don't you trust me". I loathe it when people say that. It causes me to cringe and shrink away from them, because it seems like a red flag, a signal saying GO THE OTHER WAY!
Let's say, you dad brought you food and says "trust me it's not poisonous" would you eat it? I wouldn't. From your answer figure out why you would or wouldn't eat it.
For me trust is like love, you don't ask people to trust you or tell them you trust them, you just do. The people I love gave me a reason to love them, they had characteristics that made them lovable, these people also gave me a reason to trust them. They never came up to me to say "don't you love or trust me" it just happened.
I was just listening to the 3oh3 song "Don't trust me" and I realized that I would trust someone who sad that, because they are so weary of hurting you and you getting to close, that they probably would be the most honest people. Yeah and I decided to share...

My summer is okay. I haven't started hearing voices, or decided to jump off my balcony, so I guess it's not that bad.

Hey And Goodnight

I'm tired. but not exactly tired. just FED UP! And I don't know why. I just don't want to do, say, feel anything. And it's so annoying because I thinking a scream would do it, but i don't want to scream. I sort of like this state of nothingness and the anger I'm feeling, I dunno why (guess I'm still weird). I just want to crawl to my bed or underneath it and block every sound out, cover my window and balcony door with black curtains even find something thick enough to stop light from seeping in through the small space at the bottom of the door. I don't want to talk, so now I'm listening to angry songs that make me feel like I don't have to do the screaming because the vocalists are doing in for me. Am I crazy?- probably.
It's so bad that pictures of the most fabulous shoes are not doing it for me. even the thought of watching The Nanny Fine isn't doing it for me, because I cringe at the thought of her voice. Peoples what is wrong with me!!!!?!?!?!?!

WAIT...
don't tell me. I'll figure it out, or it will pass, or maybe I'll vent much later.

Anyways just wanted to write so that people won't feel too offended if I became monosyllabic during conversations, or didn't reply their messages, answer their calls or don't check on them for a while. I still love you guys which is why I am going to become a recluse for a while.

xoxoxoxoxoxox
Your fav Stalker
AKA GIDI HAIR

talk to you when I become my normal chirpy self. Or figure out why I feel so angry.

RULING THE WORLD pt 2

Last night I thought seriously about the ink and the sword
All of a sudden , I put down my quill
Convinced myself that my lace gloves were ink stains
Instains I didn't want marring my person.

When the last trace of ink was gone from my hands
When from the sink , it was drained away;
I felt drained
Like I had suddenly become part of the violent mob.
One of the people that fought to get something better
Though they have the best thing in their clenched protesting fist.
I had become greedy
Falling away from the powerful.

I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror
Unable to look...
To really look at myself.

I rushed to my study,
Ran to the kiosk,
To the supermarket, The street Hawker
And finally to the beggar I saw people pass by on the street...
And got myself a pen.

I scribbled furiously,
On any surface I could come in contact with.
My receipts, The CD cover, the leather surface of my somewhat expensive bag an finally on my skin.

The skin I thought too precious to be marred.

And while I looked disheveled and almost lunatic,
I was proud and eager to look at myself
Find anything that could show me a reflection of myself.

I could see myself without even looking
And it felt better to be in control of the mobs that classify my life,
Than to lose that mob in search of a large crowd.

This is what happens when you begin to question your beliefs, some people find themselves, and some people just spend the rest of their lives looking.

RULING THE WORLD pt 1

Now to the piece that I actually was going to make my come back blog. You guys might not like it but ehn...

There was a time when I believe wholly, fully and without doubt that a pen is mightier than a sword.
And never even had a meta cognition about the meaning of or truth in that statement.
I walked around with my head always held up high,
Through the violent mob that constitutes my life
Because I was the strongest person, I knew.

Even as I held my chewed-beyond-repair Reynolds pen or Bic Biro, I had to flick with my ink stained hands every five minutes, I was still the strongest person I knew.
I could turn my chewed pen into an elegant quill
Make the act of constant flickering into the normalcy of dipping my peacock quill into my gold ink pot
And the ink stains quickly became the most expensive lace gloves in the world
I ruled the world and that violent mob with my ink-stained flickering hand.

And I ruled with my head held high.
Until...