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WEEKLY QUOTE: Through pride we are ever deceiving ourselves. But deep down below the surface of the average conscience a still, small voice says to us, Something is out of tune.

Archive for the category “Guest Piece”

After Anybody, Take the lead

If the world could talk,

Would it mock,

The life inside it?

The complexity,

The abnormality.

Of the human race.

If the skies could cry.

Would they hope to die,

than rather see?

The pain we cause each other,

Just to be,

Just to see

How far we can hurt without killing

If the trees could walk,

Would they stalk

The giant oceans?

Rather commit to suicide,

Then give life to us.

Who abuse it, accuse,

Destroy it

For a mere piece of paper?

If humans could love, without asking for more

Would we live long enough to see?

The world we could be.

Escape this seductive misery.

What does it take

to make,

Humans realize

we have 1 life,


before we die.

So why not try,

To give up the lies,

The greed,

The need,

TO be powerful.

And love, without asking for more…

What does it take, to make the human race realize,

We only have 1 life,

1 chance


To make a change,

to rearrange,

To organize, and bid our time.

1 chance to fix our mistakes…

1 chance to change FATE.


Short and lovely piece by my young Friend Dsonuga.

I am not where I belong,

I am not where I am strong.

I am not where I can relate,

I am not where I can hate.

But neither am I where I can love,

Neither am I floating above.

Now, I’m here,

Where I can only shed a tear for the life I’ve left behind.

Where there I am complete,

Here, I must compete for a place in a place where there is no place to be.

There is no place for me.

There is no place to be,

For a girl like me,

A girl that can barely stand on her own two feet.


Feels like a great time to share this piece from my young friend Dsonuga. Enjoy.



The fear of being alone,

The fear of not being enough,

not tough, not buff


To take the pain. To gain the understanding

the lyrics of life.

Why? they ask,

Why? can’t I be free,

to live…as just me.

must I diet? I don’t buy it.

Perhaps cover up and tight clothes,

A fake nose

Why? they ask, can’t I live free

What ever happened to loving without the money?

Caring without asking for more, and more.

Acting like a fucking Money whore.

For the magical lyrics of life have spoken to me,

I bleed,

Let loose the ties that bind me.


because I am me.

I take my bow, because I am done playing foul

I take my bow,

Because I am DONE with this shit now.


The meaning of color

This was written by my very young friend. Enjoy!!! and Share!!!

No matter how many ways it’s thought about, and told not to matter, color still means a lot to me. For one? I’m what many would call white-washed. It’s just the way I was raised. And of course, this didn’t really bother me, I mean I hung out with Caucasians all the time, but I didn’t think about one major difference between the all of us. I was black, African-Native, and they were not. I had a coloring in a mixture of brown and black, and they had different versions of white. Blue eyes, brown hair; green eyes, blond hair. I didn’t realize just how much I didn’t fit in until I met Seth Richard. He was white, as white as could be really, with an all American background and family. I had the biggest crush on him, until the day I talked to him. We were on the bus, and laughing at some joke that Emily, his younger sister, made. And then we went under a tunnel and Seth burst out laughing, causing all eyes to turn to him. In reply, he stated with a wide grin:

“Holy shit Lauren, I can’t see anything but your smile right now!”

The rest of the gang burst into uncontrollable laughter when Emily added that I would make a great ninja. Brandon, Seth’s closest friend then added: “Or a great thief at night”. I know, they were kidding, they were just messing around! But it was at that moment that I became so awakened at my true color. I was black, a mix of black and brown, and they were not. Seth had the brightest blue eyes, and the darkest shade of blonde hair I’d ever seen, but he was still white. And I was not.

I kept pushing away my difference in color. I mean, I hung out with white people too often to realize that I just wasn’t them. Soon after, I realized I couldn’t even trust them like I wished to. Their problems were: “My mom won’t get me the new iphone, so I’m settling for s samsung” and mine were: “What should I cook for this evening” Then the differences became more and more obvious. They could wear the shortest shorts, and the slimmest dresses, but for me, and even though I was young, I still had a form of hips. Noticeable hips that paired with a very slender torso. I couldn’t be flat, and so I started telling myself I was fat, I was too wide and nothing looked good on me. I also learned that that’s what brought some guys to me, only, I learned it in the worst way. It was winter ball, and I was wearing a tight fitting beautiful one shoulder silver dress. I felt beautiful in it, and I was told I was also. At the location of the dance, I met a guy named Charlie. He was beautiful, there was just no other name for him. With bright hazel eyes and shaggy brown hair, I just couldn’t hold back in wanting to meet him.

“So, Charlie, I hear you can dance”

When I said this, He smiled almost smugly. “You’ve heard correctly”

I took a hold of his hand and pulled him toward the dance floor. It was a song I knew well, and so singing to it came on reflex. Charlie complimented me on my singing just as we began dancing. It was perfect. The lights were dim, the music blasting and I couldn’t get over the feel of his warm hands on my waist. When the song was over, I took him back to his friends and told him he was right, I mean, he was a good dancer for sure. When I reached my other friends, who all had witnessed our little grind session, They laughed and agreed when I said he was hot. Then, his cousin, Kayla, came up and was all:

“I’m guessing you like him?”

I shrugged. “He’s cute”

She then smiled and said. “Well, he said the same, only uh, he seemed to like that ass of yours more than anything”

She joined my friends in their laughter, but I could only look at where Charlie was standing, he glanced at my body then turned his attention away with a smile, dismissing me almost instantly. That was my breaking point. I mean, I’m not saying I am exactly the most beautiful thing in the world, but I do feel that I at least look pretty. It didn’t help though, that every other freshman had done something; had their first kiss, had at least one boyfriend in their time. Me? I was a kiss-virgin, church-going, thirteen year old girl, who had never felt more…alone in her life. My Roommate at the time could tell I was upset, she noticed I had been crying in the car while she sat in the back with her date (who later became her boyfriend of only two weeks). But instead of telling her exactly how I felt, I brushed her off completely.

I didn’t want her to know I was upset, because I wanted to be pretty enough to have a boyfriend, or at least be less awkward enough to know how to flirt. The only person who seemed to see me as more, was my best friend, Alkali, who at the time had better things to do with his life then bother it with my problems.

Alkali had known me for about twelve years. Even though we had lost contact, I still never forgot about him. Sometimes, I even felt as if I was in love with him. But then, I got pushed back into reality whenever he would promise to call me back and somehow forget, or “lose my number”. In other words, I really hated him on the other times. He always had drama as his best friend, so I guess he didn’t need me after all.

But there were times, when I didn’t feel so alone. I would call very late, at at least twelve midnight. And he would read his poetry, which really was the only window to his real thoughts and feelings, to me. And sometimes, if I got lucky, and he wasn’t to busy flirting with random girls or boys, he would sing to me. He was a tone deaf singer when he was tired, but I loved it, because his voice wasn’t perfect. Which was perfect to me, because I felt as if I could use a little imperfection. He would talk about his family problems, and I felt special, because at least he trust me with all of his problems. He was a bisexual drama queen, and I couldn’t have had any one better than a great guy like him, who I still think I’m falling madly in love with.

The color of my skin made me feel…too different. I was always worried that people were just as paranoid about skin color as I was. So, I was always focused on trying not to look in the mirror too long, and gaze at my dark brown eyes in disgust because hell, They were just too plain. Wearing bikini’s were also a problem. I didn’t have my curves (I still don’t) and I felt that my breasts were just too small to look good with such obvious hips. My thighs always looked to big, sometimes too small. It was written in bold letters, that I am too imperfect.

I was a white washed black girl, obviously a disgrace to black people who loved the skin they were in. I always felt as if there was always too much wrong with me.

That hope for finding a guy that could accept me a hundred percent seemed too far away, too much of a dream. I mean gosh! I was told many times, I can’t dance, yet my hips can. I was two people trapped in the body of someone who could’ve been beautiful if I just let myself see that. I wanted someone to love me, but the love I wanted so badly, was too far beyond my years.

I’m fourteen now, still holding on the dream of finding someone perfect. But until that happens, I’m more focused on trying to see me. The real me. The girl that loves to read, to write, to sing, to dance, to make people happy, to be the greatest I can be. I just want to be me.

I want people to look at me and smile a real smile. I want people to see that I am a good person, I’m just a good person with low self-confidence.

The meaning of my color has always been said to mean strength. To be black, and have to deal with the judgmental looks others give just because we are a minority group. TO be strong means to be able to fight on. So yeah, I’m not perfect. I’m not beautiful, and I’m the most bipolar person you can meet.

But at least I’m trying. At least I’m still fighting to be the best I can be.

I’m still running toward the finish line, because take away my insecurities, and out blooms who I really am. A Black-Native girl, mixed of black and brown, and a white smile you can see through a tunnel. A girl with an unfinished figure, and a mane of curls I can only tame with three hours of straightening. A girl who holds on to the dream that someone will love me for being me.

Then again, I’m hoping for a love beyond my years.

But what do I know after all? Hell, I’m just a fourteen year old girl getting a little stronger each and every day.



Dare to Be

“Dare to Be

When a new day begins, dare to smile gratefully.

When there is darkness, dare to be the first to shine a light.

When there is injustice, dare to be the first to condemn it.

When something seems difficult, dare to do it anyway.

When life seems to beat you down, dare to fight back.

When there seems to be no hope, dare to find some.

When you’re feeling tired, dare to keep going.

When times are tough, dare to be tougher.

When love hurts you, dare to love again.

When someone is hurting, dare to help them heal.

When another is lost, dare to help them find the way.

When a friend falls, dare to be the first to extend a hand.

When you cross paths with another, dare to make them smile.

When you feel great, dare to help someone else feel great too.

When the day has ended, dare to feel as you’ve done your best.

Dare to be the best you can –

At all times, Dare to be!”
― Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free


Another 9R33N

My mum have been on and on about how untidy my room is.

I can’t be bothered to fix this,with my bathroom looking like a kitchen.

Littered with several cups because I keep taking a new one whenever I get hiccups chilling in my bath tub.

Who cares if my bed is my wardrobe and I’m sleeping under it with a necklace hanging almost from my ear lobes.

My waste bin sits right in front of my TV because every trash I throw has to sink like a free throw.

Yeah,I love basketball that much.

I think about it like it was some woman I long to hump.

Oh well,that’s it!

I’m not even wearing a basketball kit

Because in this world,it doesn’t fit.

Here,there are candles lit.

Different colors in several shapes.

Shapes! In front of me there’s a form behind the drapes.

Something like a figure eight.

And then two things glows through.

They look like pebbles.

I step a little closer,they shine brighter.

Then a split right below this pair of diamonds.

Then I see them,other sparkling diamonds.

About 32 of them in two layers.

Coming towards me,it steps out of the darkness.

I’m Star struck!Oh my goodness.

Where did she come from?

Looking flawless like a goddess.

Or even some princess.

Butterflies fly all over

Making circles in my stomach

My intestines feel intertwined

Like I had some wine in excess.

This creature hit me like a tornado

Leaves my inside a mess

Just as my room is a mess.

Only this tornado smells nice.

She parts her lips to smile.

Opens her mouth slightly

Before she says anything I give her a kiss first.

I am afraid she might swing her hand to my face.

To my surprise she kisses me back

Even deeper, I am thrown aback

The butterflies in my stomach

For a second they act like scorpions

Crawl for half a second then sting the other split second.

Then like ripples,goose pimples invade my arms.

Layer after layer they spread like wild fire

The taste in my mouth is sweet

I have never tasted anything like it

That’s when she speaks

She speaks to me in a voice so sleek

Oh,This is real! What a feel!

She says to me,come with me

That’s when she walks back how she came.

And I follow as I ask for her name.



Was looking at my family bbm group today and my dad posted this, i thought it was hilarious. but its made me remember how much i enjoyed my childhood. i looked through the list and i remember doing every single thing on it.
whoever came up with this…. THANK YOU…LOL.

Which one of these did u do as a child?
1)Dip d bread inside d tea?
2)Mix d entire white rice n stew b4 eatin?
3)Pour dry garri on ur beans poridge?
4)Share d meat & let d eldest pick?
5)Crack d bone & suck out d marrow?
6)Can nt eat d meat until u finsh d fud?
7)Put d mornin tea in d freezer 2 block?
8)Bite d crown & putin it inside d bottle of coke?
9)Use d meat 2 finish d remainin eba?
10)Putin medicine inside d roll of eba?
11)Lickin d plate wit ur tongue?
12)After eatin biscuit or bread, Usin ur finger 2remove d particles on Ur teeth & den lick it?


That Wednesday


This wednesday morning I know something isn’t right.
My heart keeps straying like an airplane that’s lost it’s light.
I can’t place my finger on it and my mind is blank as white.

What could have gone wrong,this beautiful bright morning.
I step out of class even though next period is in five minutes.

It looks beautiful because it is spring. The flowers looking gorgeous and the fields so green.
I try to smile and end up with a grin. A grin that breaks into tears,drop after drop they tumble off of my face.
Something is certainly wrong and I have to find out.

I pack my books in a hurry and head for the dormitory.
I pick up a few things including my car keys.
I drive down the road switching lanes,the traffic is tight as though the road is filled with cranes.

Cranes,I lift my face and there they are about ten of them or is it twenty? No,they are so many. I would have being alive if I’d hit the brakes on time before I ran my car into a pack of machines. Rochelle,my sister,my only sister,she’ll cry so hard and probably even die of hurt.

Oh mum,I was on my way home to share a feeling I found unusual. Marshal,my only brother,may he not take to drugs like the other guys in the hood.

Why did I do this? Why did I die? I wish I can cry,because when I was alive  it made burdens light. But I can scream right,will anyone hear me? What would I say? I’ll call for my grandma’s aid…Grandma!!! I yelled then I felt water on my face. She yelled back n said what?! Then I opened my eyes,oh God,I’m alive. It was a dream! My death was lie!



Here is a piece by my good friend… she has a way with words. check out some more pieces on her blog


I tried to look without blinking,

I stared uninterruptedly for a long time

It got blurry for a while and it I almost couldn’t visualize for a splitsecond until I blinked and there it was staring right back at me

So I started  drinking,
Wine, Whiskey and a lil’ liquor,
And with every sip and every glass I still felt my heart sinking from the weight of my troubled thoughts..

Day in, day out I was always caught by myself thinking,
Pondering and wishing everything away..

It was  persistently adamant,
With it there was no going away, no shaking it off, no shrinking, no flinching..

Its sound piercing like tyres screeching,
Its sight gory like stealing in a lagos hood when its punishment inevitably would be lynching
It reminded me of an evangelist preaching,
Its effect was adverse  cause classes I never attended about it whenever  they were teaching..

I got my self into this mess so I guess its time to stop bitching
Brace myself up for some ditching and dissing
I had it, I messed up and now its missing
In its place this monster I have created, I nursed it, I raised it
Now I gotta accept it, live with it and deal with it
Its not just a part of me, its now whom I have become..
It taunts me, it haunts me and constantly reminds me that;
I am a bad habit, I am an addict, I am eccentric, I am a misfit, and I am not going anywhere cause I am unique and I am you..


Flavour Oyi cover

my lovely friend precious Mba. she has the most amazing voice.

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My Words, My Thoughts, My Life, My Friends, My Work, My imaginations

WEEKLY QUOTE: Through pride we are ever deceiving ourselves. But deep down below the surface of the average conscience a still, small voice says to us, Something is out of tune.


the universe within.