14 for 14: Faithless....and Dew.....

Some days, i find it extremely difficult to believe any of it.

When you consider from a rational,
or moderately sensible point of view,
It fails to make much sense.
(But then, what really is the alternative?)

This whole idea of Faith.
Sometimes all it appears to be is a weak crutch,
Cozy tales to make journies easier to bear.
(Like a flickering light to appease the soul through darkness.)

Most days I'd stutter if i tried to explain it.
And the lame'est faithless would crush my feeble apologetic,
to the corner of a tiny defenseless whisper:
(I don't know, I just believe it...somehow)

And whilst some days the best I can do is to keep trudging along,
Muttering my own faithless tired song,
Yet faithfully so, in my seeming faithlessness.
(So Faithless still, there it remains perched, unyielding)

Like an unending glisten of Dew,
Like one certain unyielding nutter of a blogger,
Who talks about apples and crosses,
(One fine crystal droplet at a time, unrelentless, faithful.)

Some days...

Swimming in winter audio: John Piper.

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Intro: The 14-for-14 challange by Janyl. (Click here to familiarize yourelf with the '14 for 14 challenge'). I recently accepted this challenge to go on a quest searching for new blogs...with the bull-headed conviction that all creativty is not lost within the nig-blogsphere. And also desperate to prove that, contrary to recently popular opinion, not all of the new blog pages are uninteresting (to put it mildly). This is my ninth post into that journey.

Please leave your accents in the office car parks on fridays.

I went out for a karaoke party with a bunch of unfamiliar friends, and everybody spoke with an accent.
Problem was...everybody in that room was Nigerian,
and the minimum age that any of these people had relocated was at the very least, fifteen.

So i watched, alternating between amusement, to bewilderment, to a tinge of irritation,
wondering why Nigerians were faking foreign accents to Nigerian friends,
As one over-dressed female would speak to her male partner - with a twang,
and the boyfriend/husband would reply her in like manner, also chewing on his tongue,
then her female friend would cackle in a fit of OMG's, before carrying on the banter.

I thought to myself, like seriously?
Even the men have time for this iranu?!
So there i was wondering if this was a very unusual East London Nigerian community thing,
or if i had been completely out of the loop of social etiquettes amongst Nigerians living abroad?

Oh, i love the Nigerian gift of being able to swing accents as required,
and how easily we're able to fake it to blend in.
I think it's a charming skill...and i've had a few indian friends enviously agree.

I think it is of particular benefit in the office environment, or the multinational social settings.
But i'll never for the life of me understand what happened in that Karaoke bar that night.
Who anybody was trying to impress,
If i had missed out on the memo to come and act stupid,
or if i just dreamt up the whole disgrace amongst grown-up folks.

I conluded that there are three types of Nigerians living abroad.
These Karaoke bar bunch, who don't have the common sense to leave the accents behind when meeting up with Nigerian mates,
The late bloomers who think that everywhere is Isale Eko - the types that give everybody a headache when they are taking a phone call on public transport,
And the sensible ones somewhere in between.

I think that...

There is something about a Nigerian girl's unapologetic accent and laughter that is just absolutely fantastic. One of the reasons i listen to Tosin Bucknor's radio show on a random thursday morning.


Photo credit: www.josenavarronyc.com

P.S: I agree, the word verification thing is annoying, so yes, i'll turn it off for a while and see how that works.

The law of "don't waste your f**king time".

Don't waste your fxxking time on someone who don't deserve your fxxking time.

Life is really that simple. Infact, this is a noble saying, and it is worthy of full acceptance. Please go ahead and retweet.

It is of mild importance the back story of how this revelation besotted my mind...whilst lazy hands soothed an itchy butt-crack at 11pm on a simple evening.

What does it matter, about anthesis, rational judgment or basis of proof. Afterall it sounded briefly ethereal,  hallowed and does it not validate your own angst too? So...yes please, go ahead and Facebook too.

So unto us a law of the universe is born. As before our very eyes, one hapless fool will receive a scarthy text messsge, as courstey is abandoned to the altar of my fine sounding revelation.

Life really is that simple. And thus is my generation of "social intelligence". You may go ahead and Instagram too.

I really really am trying to be less of a sarcastic hot-head but i promise, social media is really not helping my cause.

Photo source: retromorrow.com