Ceremonies.

Is there a particular moment we begin spiraling down the bottom? I used to wonder if life snapped in clean halves bending at the exact moment when we departed from who we could justify into something strange and inexcusable.
The question of when everything started to fall apart hunts me, sleepless nights spent weighing each memory with significance like a weary detective obsessing over a timeline. Trying to discover the exact moment the house in Shomolu started to collapse, how long had it been? Were the foundations trembling the day papa talked about his new wife? The day we discovered Eka, the help next door was pregnant?
Mama said she felt when it happened, the Sunday the walls of the apartment caved in. The things we left behind, my dark doll with the green shoes, the dress with pink flowers, the chance of goodbyes we didn’t have. My parents never let me visit the ruin.
Maybe it was the day thick strands of hair fell on the marble floor of my room. I stood staring in the mirror, gripping the scissors a little too tight. It started with what was maybe an inch, a little trim, and then a couple of inches till there was barely anything left. Staring in the mirror, then at the comb, at hair on the floor, it’s been 7 years since her last haircut and 7 hours since a steam. The scissors had always been lying there rarely ever used.

Sometimes I hoped just as people faded away, memories of them would leave too, but they keep hovering, mists of confusion, making you hold on to nothing, leaving you struggling to move on. Time had a way of transforming Jade from that geeky timid child in nursery school whom she shared her cakes with to six feet with lean muscles who she day dreamt of sharing more than her cakes with. If love was laughing at his jokes and looking to him for agreement in a delicate and unspoken way. If love was holding hands in public places and kissing in school corridors. If love was moaning his name while grabbing a fist full of his thick black afro hair while he kissed her breasts. If love was wriggling in pleasure with her dress rolled up and shifted aside while he touched her warm skin. If love was a confused girl giving into a new strange graveness, a weak imitation of what she imagined love making to be and the moment being just as wonderful because of the strong weakening feeling she had for him. Then love was what destroyed her, like her mother, she felt it happen,  the growing distance,  his muffled one word responses, the deafening silence till she saw him holding her and whispering intimately in her ears. It had been two months since then,  he didn't even say goodbye, and she lived everyday in a new pain, holding onto her pillow and crying and begging herself to forget him. Somehow her life had evolved around him that her life before him seemed like a blur of events. She looked at herself or what seemed to be the version of her that existed, gripping the bottle of Tylenol she had kept hidden under her clothes for the past 5 days. She swallowed the first red five pills first, she had read online that a mere overdose could damage the liver and lead to death. She poured out a handful this time, not bothering to count how many and swallowed them. Waves of nausea hit her, somehow she felt a certain peace,  she didn't feel her pain as she lid into unconsciousness.
There are events that demand a certain ritual, a rite where you lose yourself to your pain, where you float like the lifeless leaves that have been dried up in the heat of the sun.

Adulthood and Absences.

My youth held nothing but the relentless struggle to be accepted by society, to be loved by someone and to be approved by my parents and myself, for I set the highest expectations for myself not them. My youth held a certain emptiness of a vast space where excitement and passion used to be. Each day started with a deep longing for something different and an overwhelming sense of tiredness from being bored of my routine life. Growing up closed me off from the world and my fears multiplied their numbers because understanding how cruel people could be would do that to you. Because I missed being care free and ignorant, I missed trusting and loving people blindly, I missed the uncomplicated innocent life of my childhood.

Because when I think of my life and the time I had been most alive, I think of when I was 3, running around our family house butt naked with my sister, laughing and screaming.

Because when I think of my life and when I had been most alive, I think of when I was 5, playing hide and seek with my siblings and my cousins, hiding in the most obvious places and being genuinely surprised when we got found.

Because when I think of when I was most alive I think of when I was 7, and I wandered away from school, negligent of the danger of my actions, wandering curiously on unfamiliar streets and wandering away farther without worrying about the fact I didn't know how to retrace my steps back. Looking at my dad's teary eyes with my questioning ones when he found me later that evening, unaware of the nightmare I had caused my parents.

Because when I think of my life and when I had been most alive I think of when I was 13 and I had my first crush. Of how it didn't matter that he didn't know who I was and how I felt. But all that mattered was the dizzying flutter in my chest and the butterflies in my tummy whenever I saw him.

Because when I think of my life and when I had been most alive I think of my first kiss, from a guy I didn't even love, a guy that bullied me for my lunch cakes, a guy that teased me every chance he got. But he held me and took my lips with his and in those brief seconds,  the confusion,  the blood rush and the many other things I felt and didn't understand had me smiling to myself later that night while replaying the event in my head.

Because when I think of my life and when I had been most alive I remember being laid on his bed, stripped of my dress and lace panties,  having my legs spread apart and cold jelly poured around the lower part of my tummy down the vee of my legs. I remember his warm tongue loving me, kissing and licking. And how I couldn't breathe from the intoxicating feeling and the blinding pleasure. How my body kept convulsing, responding to his tongue.
I remember those years and I feel empty, how becoming an adult took all of that away. How growing up created one absence after another and all I'm doing is struggling to deal.

27.01.2015

Too often words are not enough. To express what you feel and how you feel it.

How do you tell someone that you're burning for him? That he owns your heart?

What if those words are still not enough?

This is something more than words. He was something she couldn't recover from.

Even now he's miles away, she could feel his love holding her like the skies hold the sun and the stars and the moon, embracing her very being, making her warm.

She was unsure of the next minute or tomorrow or the future but she loved him so much it hurt. And in this moment he loved her too and that was all she needed. It was her truth. 

Miracle hungry Christians and Thieving Pastors

"Write an amount, the kind of amount you would like to receive from God."
I stared at the cheque book I had just brought  out from my suitcase. I would give half of what I own. That should be enough.
The pastor was speaking in tongues now. Then he said again, "Try God and see. Brethren, give Him 24 hours and He will surprise you."
The crowded roared "AMEN", busy stuffing money in envelopes and writing down in their cheque books like I was about to.
The title of the sermon was "24 hour miracle" and Pastor Nicholas was the guest speaker today. Our pastor, Pastor Clement was behind, eyes closed, vibrating in prayer.
Pastor Nicholas was still speaking, "Give him a 100 thousand and he would give you two hundred thousand, give him five hundred thousand and he will give you a million, give him a million and he would make you a billionare... (more speaking in tongues)"
Somehow I felt I should do better than giving God half, I was going to give him everything,  after all I would become a billionare in just 24 hours. So I gave.
We all congratulated each other and danced in thanksgiving and some even gave testimonies in advance. Then the service was over and I went home.
I went home and waited for my miracle. No call. No alert. No visit from the angel who would mysteriously give me my billions.  I looked at the time nervous. And checked my phone maybe it was the network acting up. I strolled out to the nearest atm to check my balance. I struggled to breathe easily.  Nothing. Maybe the 24 hours was to start after that day. I went back home with a strong sick feeling in the pit of my belly.
The next day went by, that week went by, and nothing still. I summoned courage to go to the church and request for how to locate Pastor Nicholas.
He had left the country and Pastor Clement had been unavailable since Sunday.
I was in a lot of trouble. I called my mom.
She was in my house that evening screaming and shaking her head, looking into nothing saying repeatedly, "I have raised a fool"
I was dumb unable to find words to comfort her or myself. I just stood there, feeling really sick in my stomach.

Not everytime front, sometimes love fiercely.

Lesson of the day: Say what you want, how you want to say it, love who you love, the way your heart wants to and the one that will stay will come.

Because you were the moon and I was the endless gloomy sky. 
Our love was different, beautiful, dark and extraordinary, brave regardless of time and it's inevitable doom. 
So I liked to believe.                  
I had the deep terrible lingering fear of uncertainty. Of myself. The way I loved you fiercely the same overwhelming way the universe swallows our world.
I wondered if we shared the same secret, if you feared losing me too.  If at anytime I wandered away, your heart would feel my absence.   
Or whether the laws of love applied to us. Laws that dictated who to love, how to show love and how much love to give.
  I laid myself bare before you, feelings engraved on my skin, oozing intoxicatingly from my being. I loved you the way my heart knew.     
Was that what sent you away?  Or did you just yearn for brighter skies?

*Untitled*

"Aggressive tendencies"

Is how he'd describe it

It : An extremely repulsive yet compulsive urge to unearth,

Or kill - End - transcend.

He felt 'it' when he looked at her, however 'it' floated like spit on the surface of a pool of much more intense emotions like love and lust. A thick - neon - colored pool of emotions swirling around inside him, nearly oozing out of his veins - everything with him was intense - immense, forcing him to the precipice of control.

If she so much as blinked wrong he would kill her.

Slowly.

••

She was so full of emptiness.

It was how someone was to feel after wasting her years and love on men who did not belong to her, years of praying to the confusion within her to bring her the one. Each day began with an urge to release the emerging rain of sadness that hid behind her huge brown eyes.

He was the first thing she felt. In a long time. That dangerous flutter inside and the silence, where everything was enchanted and moved in slow motion, where she felt her whole being yearned for him.

••
The
Rendezvous
:

Cliche as it may sound, she spoke to him with her eyes.

They had never actually said a word to each other before, living in the same building you might consider it strange, living in the same building for well over 8 months - dare I say - even stranger.

But she spoke to him, with her eyes and her body, she spoke to him. Today she called him, she led and he followed , patient and obedient he followed,  a somewhat dangerous and predatory swagger became of the way he towered behind her.

The air was like it had been infused with her essence -

*'Infuse: fill; pervade.
e.g : "her work is infused with an anger born of pain and oppression" - Google*

- he felt the air that she now possessed on his skin, it came prickly, like electricity - it gave him goosebumps.

He followed her through the previously mysterious door, into the room he had previously only imagined, he looked around  swiftly for the tiger he always imagined would be resting elegantly by her caramel sofa, or the old school blinds he thought would filter the sun and give the room a somewhat sepia effect. Her room smelt like soul consuming incense, it had a scanty overlook -  there was no tiger - and her bed was impossibly neat.

She stopped in front of her dresser and he tried to reach out and touch her, she leaned away from reach so he let out a grunt underneath his breath - it struck him as terribly upsetting .

••

She stared too long. Fidgeted with her hair and her fingers. There was a way he made her feel.

She knew he followed her as she left the café and headed to her room. Her nervous legs managed to get her to her dresser. She could feel his presence, he was going to touch her when she moved. That was when she realized she had been holding her breath.

She turned to him then, watching his irritated expression change to shock as she unbuttoned her shift shirt dress.

••

This is what it means to be under a spell:

The shirt dress had ten buttons, two were already undone, no cleavage was showing but you could tell that her breasts were healthy, firm.

She unbuttoned the dress completely showing off skin as smooth as he imagined (he wondered what it would taste like).

He wasn't sure whether to touch her or not, she felt his reservation so she took off the dress completely, walking towards him gracefully and on her toes - in charge.

She spoke to him with her eyes and her movement, telling him to watch - it was show time.

••

She noticed his uneasy expression, but she knew he wouldn't refuse her. She stood before him, completely bare allowing him time to take the complete view in and watched him as his eyes travelled her body in reverence.
She went to him with a confidence that shocked even her. Right then she was a goddess and she was powerful. She touched him on the face and he flinched, she took his hands and led them to feel her breasts,  down her waist till they settled on her ass. That was when something in him snapped and he pulled her close and kissed her like he meant to devour her.
She couldn't breathe, not when his mouth was everywhere on her almost at once. She felt a tingle here and there and everywhere. The delicious pull in the pit of her stomach confirmed he was doing the right things. His fingers felt her there, she was so wet, blossoming for him.
He spread her on the bed and she opened up for him. It felt so good being joint to him like that. She wrapped her legs around his waist and took him deeper inside her. She moved against him slowly and delicately, as the pleasure built up, she wanted to feel everything, what it felt like to be with a man again.  He grunted then, it sounded like a plea and a promise at the same time.

••

Surreal.

He genuinely felt like he would explode with pleasure.

He wanted to hold - and lick - and suck - and flick gently with his thumb - and hit from behind - again and and again - and hug - and squeeze - and bow in the presence of - at the same time.

However, as it sometimes is in such moments of intense pent up - bursting at the seams - lust, he nutted after a few minutes (very few/too early) , convulsing slowly with pleasure as he crawled to and beyond the peaks of satisfaction.

The episode ended and he exhaled deeply letting himself go, on her - weak and defeated. Surrendering.

••

She perceived he wasn't this laid back and responsive with the other women he had been with. Control freak.

Since he was letting her have the floor, she intended on giving him a show.

She was so excited, she felt a few years younger again. It had been a long time since anyone wanted her this way.

She smiled childishly, bending in front of him, so he could have a good view of her ass and took his shaft in her mouth. She didn't take her eyes off him. Kissing, licking, sucking.

He closed his eyes

•••

He had broken the gates of ecstasy.

Now, he floated on the surface of his own pleasure.

Magnificent :

His dick bobbed and weaved, weak and at the mercy of a desirous tongue, not totally defeated and open to rejuvenation.

She was making love to him and he swore to reward her -

She gave him head till he regained vigor -

She sent blood flowing through his veins again -

She stopped, he exhaled , she changed positions so she sat on him , her back to his face, reverse. 

••

She rode,

Like the mighty warrior princess she rode, valiantly and with definite purpose. 

He let her continue before switching things up.

She obliged, spreading her legs completely as she made her way towards the wall, she wanted to arch her back (the curse of eagerness) -

- he moved with his knees, sore with intent, his dick firm, swinging slowly as one burdened with the full weight of youthful lust, steady, leading the way -

She bent over, taking her eyes off him so she could see as she bent , barely settling one palm on the wall before he entered her, thrusting hard causing her to lose the little grip she had mustered -

- She lost her balance and smacked her head against the bed headrest awkwardly such that there she smacked her lower teeth on the wood in a way you would consider extremely unfortunate , shattering the middle teeth as the resistance from the table sent her head back up in a split second, breaking her head and piercing through the sudden ephemeral silence with a loud crack that put an end to even a Planck length of doubt that she was dead.

• •

It was terribly upsetting.

He screamed at her, shaking her violently demanding that she get up.

She didn't. She was dead and it was terribly upsetting.

He screamed from his bowels, a macabre sound like someone who had his arteries injected with damning confusion, he clenched his fists in the air and struck her on the chest, even more annoyed by the response, or the non response from the dead girl in front of him so he struck her again on her face, feeling her jaw crack as he made contact. He continued to hit her again and again until blood started to ooze from her mouth -

- His pupils dilated in shock, striking her face one more time before slumping on the bed, hands bloodied and in pain -

- It was terribly upsetting that she died

Terribly.

20. Facts.

So I waited till everyone was done with it before making my list.
Enjoy xx

1. I love hot steamy showers, even in terribly hot weather. It's something I still can't explain.
2. I'm a shy person so I'll be fidgeting with my hair or my hands when you talk to me.
3. I talk to God alot. He gets me the most. Next is Damola. Then Kachi. We have the most ridiculous conversations.                   
4. I love dogs. I currently have 3 and they have my heart. I want more. I want a Freddie and an Ann Marie.     
5. I don't wear makeup, sometimes I wish I did but I don't really just care     
6. I'm too emotional. I'm a huge believer in love.
7. I'm too paranoid for my own good. I worry too much about too many things
8. I like to see the best in people but I also see the worst. I don't even understand how that's possible but it happens             
9. I detach from people sometimes and withdraw to myself. Right now I talk to just a handful of people. It's the healthiest, people can be so ugly.
10. I've had just a few crushes, they were very shortlived. But I did the most hilarious things for their attention.
11. I'm blunt. I don't believe in going in circles. If you want something go for it, love someone let them know.
12. I love music. Mostly for their lyrics though. Ed sheeran, Florence + the machine for instance.
13. My family is most important.    
14. I'm not a colorful person, you'll mostly see me in black. It's my comfort zone
15. I believe in being independent. I work alot. Spent most of my time working. Getting myself ready for my dream job   
16. I hold onto things alot. Basically memories. I may come to love a particular song, drink, or thing because of a particular moment or person.
17. I try to help others anyway I can to get through their lives.
18. I write alot. Explains the blog.
19. Favourite hobby are movie nights with red wine and chocolate cake.
20. I am very boring, I don't know why people believe otherwise. But I can't even save myself from boredom so I surely can't save you as well.