Thank you Pitch Perfect 2, I now have a favorite song I cannot stop listening to. Oh, and Das Sound Machine totally outshone that Barden Bellas, but that’s for another post. For now just enjoy this deeply awesome song.
Hoping to find someone to sing this to someday. 🙂
Its amazing how time flies, it seems like it was only just yesterday you decided to embark on that trip, you had stars in your eyes that morning. It had been a really bumpy road for us, all those times when you would lie with your head on my lap, sharing your dreams and hopes, listening to me while I talked of my passions and aspirations. It was you who taught me to dream, to believe in anything I set my heart on. We would sit and soak garri, with suya, hoping that one day everything would be alright. I remember the day you came back from work with the news. I was beyond elated…. All I could think of was the smile on your face, the joy you exuded at the thought of being offered a new position at your place of work. Hmm….. Continue reading
I just had to go back to fetch this video, it just has to be here. Ladies, Toke is so right! Stop mulling over that douchebag! Get a life the gangster way today! 🙂
I think it has now become a big deal for me to write an “Open letter” (Twitter type) to every passing year. Ok, before 2012, I did all that in my diary, now I am here. Its always a great feeling when one makes it to the final days of a year, considering the fact that not everyone made it to the tail end, I think there is every reason to be thankful. The world (and being a Nigerian) might not be as we would have liked it to be, but people like me are glad to at least have a fighting chance while we breath… Thank God for mercies.
Sunday November 10, 2013
It was a calm sunday afternoon, the heat wave had become a tad unbearable, and Rita was forced to abandon the thoughts of taking a nap as she made to get out of bed to step outside for fresh air. “Don’t leave me” “Don’t leave me”, Rita heard Canice mutter softly as she stirred in her sleep, taking a long look at her she wondered if it was a good idea to wake her up. “Don’t leave me”, she continued to mutter, Rita got up from her bed and walked over to Canice’s side. Crouching by the side of her sister’s bed, she began to stroke her hair softly, it had been three months since Francis passed away, Rita felt sorry for her sister.
I read a lot of stuff over the internet, about Love and relationships, about what the chemistry between a man and a woman should be like, and a host of other topics. In all the material I have read, and all the “messages” I have been exposed to (especially the ones by Nigerian authors), I have noticed that everyone hides from the truth. A vast majority of writers who “specialize” in matters of the heart tend to completely remove themselves from the “situation” they explore. There is a sense of detachment on the part of most authors that makes one who might really be in need doubt their analysis and recommendations.