iWrite because i can. Because i have two hands and ten (very beautiful) fingers that allow me to write. Because i have thoughts in my head that i want to write. Because i'm not quite sane. Because i am me :)

Saturday, June 5, 2010

The Life and Times of a Persistent Trouble Maker (Intro)

So.... im gonna write the actual post in approximately 3 weeks, this is just random babble because Osayi asked me to update my blog (p.s. im gonna write something about you... figure it out :P ) . I keep getting in trouble, trouble is one of my middle names that i have and definitely do NOT want. It wasn't always this way though, i had a peaceful childhood..... till i turned 12. iThink, it's been my best friend since then, i didn't really care before but now... its getting worse, im getting in trouble for things not even worth it... sha, you have to chill till my next post....

Have you ever told someone something, and the reaction they gave you was totally outta the blue?? Like you weren't even expecting it?? of course you have, people do it on regular basis... but sometimes.. its makes you think... and question the stuff you know or at least thought you knew.... and the way you see someone can completely change....... i know im definitely not being paranoid on this one, even though it sounds like it..
That being said... my creativity has run out.

Finally!!!!! a story by my friend F !!! she writes and you can read her stories (Here) , im addicted!! :p
This is an excerpt from one of her stories 'Born to Die'

I sliced. The pain welcomed me with the familiarity of an old friend. Where people had failed to, my pain had always been there to embrace me. It had been my life-long companion and would be with me till the end. I watched my veins gently whisper my scarlet secrets to the earth. It was the dead of night. The market had been deserted. Here I was, in a makeshift stall, with neither friends nor family and nothing but a shoplifted razor to my name, but I felt more powerful than I ever had. I took ownership of that death sentence and decided it was time for it to be fulfilled. My whole life, I had waited for help, understanding and love from others. Finally, I took control. I hated my life so I did something about it.

Yet, I failed at even that. Now I am staring outside the window of a general ward at the University College Hospital. Some misguided Samaritan must have found me. If only they knew the importance of what they had interrupted… Another bitter laugh wells up inside me as I inspect the bandages placed on my wrists. It is another excruciating irony that these fabrics intended to save my life are the very obstacles to my salvation. I want to bleed away my frustrations, bleed away my loneliness, bleed away my pain. I need to. I will.

In the village, they were waiting for me to die. It‘s only a matter of time. I am determined. After all, 
abiku is my name. Death is my purpose.


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