We are all capable of kindness, but some people “choose” to be unkind. That’s what makes the world a scary place.

~Victor Enesi

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“…that’s the reason… “

“…that’s the reason we are so many in this world, so that someone can find another.” She said

22/06/2018 7:26

Good morning, world. Well, it’s morning here in Nigeria and maybe most parts of the world.

It’s a beautiful day. Every day is a beautiful day. Another day to take it all in. Another day to ask the same rhetorical questions that have no apparent answers.

You know, I was just thinking; what a beautiful feeling it will be to live in space. Really, not that Earth is boring or anything, but it would make more meaning to my being to dine among the stars. For me the universe as we know it is my inspiration. Since the beginning of time we humans have always been looking up to the skies, even to the point of worshiping it. What this trait depicts is a yearning for more. A yearning for the beyond. Earth as we know it is just a tiny piece of the puzzle.

I was opportune once to dream of a planet with all the contortions and all, but real close, like real real close. It felt like the planet was showing me its power, its existence, its being. And I was shaken. ‘How freaking huge!’ Planets are gods mehn. It would make more sense to worship a planet than to worship the skies. The latter being a figment of a mother planet’s imagination. Earth is a mother to us. She is big, well, compared to our almost inconsequential size. So next time you step on an unsuspecting ant crawling on the floor because of how easy it is, just remember that you’re like an ant in the desert compared to mother Earth’s size.

Inhabitants of planet Earth, please take a moment to appreciate what you’ve been standing on all your life.

Have an Earth-filled day.

Do words matter

Do words matter?

construed symbols plated
on cold stone etched in
meaning telling tales of
feelings ripe and faded

Do words matter?

Mama crying, boy singing
pain inscribed in the mind
self expression yearning
for aperture to others’souls

Do words matter?

History fading, worlds warring
people forgetting deeds mistaken
caveman hieroglyphs retarding
from a world without meaning

Do words matter?

Internet’s awaken
words pixelating
people drifting
world ending

Do words matter?

Mind yearning
for meaning beyond meaning
worlds destroying
man’s undertaking

Do words matter?

Symbols adrift
meaning interlaced
Comparison unfound
Senseless sensations

Do words matter?

Writer’s dilemma
warping the mind
in madness storylines
vying for existence

Do words matter?

Spider’s web
crocheting
slinging minds
stagnating

Do words matter?

Writer’s pain
raining brain drain
Inspiration
at knife’s tip

Do words matter?

yearning stretching
hands of reason
blessing heads of
washing

Do words matter?

At moment when words
don’t matter then
death shall come for
the brain in the matter

Do words matter?

Hello World

Hello World! It’s 4:04 am here in Nigeria and I just feel like writing something. I know what you’re thinking, ‘Are you not meant to be fast asleep to get up early for work tomorrow?’ But hey, guess what? I’m already up for work! Actually, light out woke me up (the heat, unfathomable).

So I just took a shower 🚿 and maybe I’d sleep some more before work. But that’s risky. What if I wake late in the morning? I can already hear my boss shoving his words down my throat (by the way I hate the word boss).

You know I’d have stories before the day ends, right? I always think in stories. Life itself is a stage of stories. Remind me where I heard this quote:

When we are born we cry that we are come to this great stage of fools.”

Lagos is a grand stage of fools then. The drama is just breathtaking. From boarding the bus early in the morning to coming back in unimaginable traffic in the evening. The passenger that won’t stop quarrelling with the conductor. The hawkers on the streets. The mother with her two kids about to cross the road (this reminds me of my upbringing). The bike men always too close to moving cars. The pothole riddled road. The pressure to keep to time. The noise. The music.

They say Lagos is a megacity, a metropolis, and they are right. I have a saying, if Lagos doesn’t inspire you as a writer then just watch 1000 ways to die.

Phew! It’s 4:21, a mosquito just buzzed in my ear. I hate those bloodsucking motherfuckers.

Good morning, all. Have a breathtaking Monday!

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