I'm stunned when someone says I'm gonna do this
or that in the future.
They seem to forget the present is part of their life
on earth.
Value every moment of your life cause every sad,
maimed, disastrous, joyous, ecstatic moment were,
are and will be your life.
# You will always have a cross
#You will always solve them.
# must cry at sometime
#you must smile at some point.
# Someone must love you and
#Someone must hate you.
#Someone must discourage you.
#Someone must encourage you.
#You must make mistakes.
# But you can choose to either be eternally sober or
apply the lessons learnt and move on.
#£lse, someone who knows where he's going in
life is gonna push you out of the way to make way
for himself.
What did you think it was/is?
It's a damn vicious cycle.
# And at times, when life is dragging you down,
you've just got to obey the laws of gravity and get
down on your knees and # pray .

Profiling 101

Profiling. The first time I heard that word was in
a movie: mind hunters.
Read one or two things about it and decided to
see if I was capable of profiling someone.
I was discouraged a bit, or maybe more than a
bit.
But, it occurred to me that I became sensitive,
or much more.
One look at you, especially your eyes, I could
tell something about them, even if it wasn't
anything important. Next was that I couldn't
forget a face. The only way that I couldn't
recollect a face is if i was distracted by a
thought.
I thought it was a fallacy: mere coincidence.
Until now.
There's a game we used to play.
"Take one look at a movie and tell it's name."
I found out I could remember near all.
Most people like me use their cerebrum. That
means they can create with ease.
The other lobe being the cerebellum, means you
don't even have to think, it does the thinking
for you. But wait, it is the site of "practice
makes perfect".
It's almost like an algorithm.
If you give it commands always, even if you're
asleep, it will act on them.
Deduce the rest.
Back to my story.
I isolated my cerebrum from creativity for a
while, to help my cerebellum act solo.
Initially I thought it was gibberish, but now I
found out it worked.
The procedures I followed are numerous but it's
just simple practice. Favour everything on the
left side of your body, first stage.
The rest things to do will come naturally, that's
if, if it will work on you.
1.Always trust your instincts.
2. Never follow your heart.
3. practice makes perfect
4. correct yourself immediately
5. use the knowledge as often as possible but
not on others. you will hurt them.
6. To every thing, there are advantages and
disadvantages
7. do not get obsessed with it.
8. safeguard your brain from people you know
can influence you.

Love

From a little research: these are my findings.
Some friend of mine once asked. "What does it feel to be in love?"
D reply was: d best feeling ever. In love land, there's no need for food, cos you'll not feel hungry. It's d sensation call "butterfly in d tummy". Truth is, it kind of feel like actual butterflies. And this is like d apex sensation you'll feel.
And d boy asked again,'so where does sexual intercourse comes in?'
D reply: d truth is ironic, as for what i felt, sexual intercourse was far from my tots. Truth is, u can't feel love n lust at d same time or at least for d same person.
FOR D LADIES
So when next a guy tells you he's in love with u n he's talkin about intercourse, know he is lying. He doesn't love u at all.
NB: Fact: Evil(intercourse) may arise from d 'best of intentions'(love).
ADVICE: FEEL LOVE BUT NEVER LET THAT PERSON KNOW, FOR IT TAKES TWO TO TANGLE. FOR SIN IS NOT D INTENT OF LOVE.
ANNOYANCE: It's usually annoying when people brandish love as a bad thing. Just like Facebook, it can be used for good or evil.Depending on d user.
Lawyered!

The untold story: Warri crisis

Some friends of mine say I'm too
narcissistic.
Most times I write, it's just the loner
trying to voice out that which I hope
someone would read.
It's hard to find one who'll listen to a
lengthy story with much verve but my
book never gets tired of listening;so I
never stop writing.
'Twas the night before christmas. I had
just finished saying my night prayers and
was about to sleep when I had a flash
back.
I was in a party. I was having fun with
some friends when suddenly...
Gboza! Gboza!
...we heard gun shots. We had been
warned earlier but I called it bluff.
In total disarray, I ran in the direction of
the church.
I knelt down to pray but my hands were
still trembling.
Thoughts of an earlier similar event
gushed into my mind. Like a hallucination,
I could see what would happen to me, if I
remained there.
I saw people running towards the parish
house and my instincts kicked in
immediately and so did a surge of
adrenalin. But before I got there, the
priest had already shut the door. It felt
like the door of heaven, shut.
Subconsciously, I had consigned myself to
death. But a force within,took hold and it
reminded me of the sisters' convent. But
on reaching there, no one answered the
gate.I yelled and cried and nearly fainted.
I was about yelling again when my dad
took my hand and swung me onto his
torso which I held firmly. Before I could
say, Daddy, we were already running
behind the war front.
The soldiers were firing behind us; away
from us whilst the other party was firing
straight at us.
I wanted to question our safety but when
I saw how confident my father was, I
withdrew, with head faced to his shoulder
and eyes closed.
When I got home, he told me to lie on the
floor to avoid being hit by stray bullets.
On the floor, I could feel warm tears
falling down to the floor.
But I wasn't crying because I was afraid; I
was crying because I had a father I could
count on.
Snapping out of my trance, I heard my
phone ringing.
It was 0:35.
A night caller was calling.
...only those who had received much love
can hand some out. I had received in
plethora, the said word above.

Chapter 1: pre-war Utopia

Jumping down the stairs, was Kate Harts. She was late for an appointment and was in a hurry to get a cab when she received a phone call. "Hello?" "Kate!" "Yes?" "There has been a blast in Cathlay and your mum was hit. "What? Where is she? Which hospital did you take her?!" The voice was silent for some seconds and then said, "she's dead." The phone Kate was holding, fell down, splitting in two, destroying it. Sitting down on d stairway, she cried bitterly. Five minutes later, Lawrence was supposed to call and when he did, he had to use voice message. He was suppossed to ask her out. An eerie sound had been coming in from the front door. And before long, a second bang hit the door: springing it wide open and Kate on her feet. "Kate!" "Joan! I thought it was a burglar. " "I had to break in. I've dialling your number all morning, no response but the answering machine. Why is your phone switched off? " "There is your answer." Pointing in the direction of damaged phone. "But that doesn't explain why you didn't show up for the interview." "Joan, my mum's dead." "What? I'm so sorry." "She was in blast in Cathlay." "When? " "I don't really know. I was called just this morning ."
...edited...
New plot
Author's edit.
Since I'm a Nigerian. I have the right to tell the story from country's point of view. Sorry if you really loved where former plot was headed.

Utopia: city of dreams

Tears were shed amidst the chaos that befell the inhabitants of a small town who had gathered at the city centre to protest the inhumane nature of the government. The city's name, Utopia. A once powerful town, that now looks more like a rubble. Tear gas in the air, children weeping on the backs of their mother. Tears came calling, after screams did. Screams that will send shock waves down the spine of nazgul's pet and silence it. And all these happened in the aftermath of an event, so sinister, I cried while I was told, and again, while I was writing this piece.