mind storms

   ...my attempt at being tragically deep...enjoy


Its rising, building up like sand swirls right before a bastard storm. It’s a storm, yes, but not a literal storm, a metaphorical one. The constant battle of self acceptance. The competitive war between the good sheep, and the big bad wolf hidden deep in the inner recesses of your mind. Yes, that storm.




It starts with the telltale signs, turmoil, confusion. Wondering what on earth brought you back to the same bloody rut you were stuck in years, moths, weeks, days ago. You think you’re over it but you’re not. It’s the one issue that will haunt you for all eternity. You ask yourself, why you just don’t let it go. It goes fine for a while, but even you can’t pretend to yourself forever. It’s your nature, you can’t deny it. You can only tame it, but so far. You’re taking the quick messed up approach.


I write with a weary heart, for desert storms gather in me. I’ve tried to fight it off, but I’m powerless. Held down the basest instincts of primitive humanity that lies within us all. I’m but a slave to my body, myself. Years of civilization and honing has but left a small dent in my fabric. What am I? because I do not succumb to years of training and expectation, am I to be cast out? Scorned? Rejected? Even by the ones who are supposed to be there? I’m an empty hollow existing shell, I feel nothing, yet feel the sharpest sting of betrayal, the most painful feeling of disappointment. The deep embarrassment that comes with rejection. I do not feel the warm embraces of love, hope, faith, and unconditional belief.


The storm is here, and I cannot but fall helpless at its feet. I’m carried away by the winds of self destruction and anger. Soon, it’ll all be over and I’ll be left an empty hollowed out shell. With time, I will heal, but only in time again to face another metaphorical storm


Who will help me?

me! me!! me!!!

Its a me special and I truly have nothing to write, so I'll give you little tidbits about myself instead.
1. I have a thing for damaged, tortured people. Not the Edward Cullens though. More along the lines of artistically inclined, have-the-ability-to-feel-a-lot, smart, but have some deep issues kinda person.
2.My marriage fantasy is to get hitched with a cute white preppy person. The Ivy-league degrees all intact.
3.I wish I had a beauty spot right above my lip.
4. I secretely wanna knife my baby sisters
5. I secretely wanna knife my elder sister
6. I wish I had hazel or green eyes
8. I wish I was skinny...sometimes
9. I have massive boobs..x_x
7. Short hair actually looks good on me, hallelujah somebody?
8. I would pick taylor Lautner anyday over Robert Pattinson, but I'm NOT a twilight fan
9. I have a mini OCD for bad use of speecha and grammar
10.I'm a fine gehl...hahahaha..
11."Mildly prudish" is my middle name
okay I'm done...this is difficult.
xoxo..rUdEgIrL
P.S: don't save the pictures...okay? :)
oh...and if you wanna see the full picture(non-thumbnail), just click on it..:) peace

music

I had the greatest aunt. She was chubby, very pretty and had this amazing collection of CD’s and movies which she allowed us watch if we were good. It’s funny when I look back now because she was only slightly older than I am now when I was six or seven. I’m writing this piece with a smile on my face because it brings to memory, those beautiful innocent moving combination of spoken and physical art. I call them, my cherished childhood memories.


Ten years later…

Here I am, manipulating Google into letting me pick up those pieces of my childhood. Those times when I heard those songs, felt them within my core, but never really could relate to them. I just loved the instrumental, the voices, and occasionally had respect for the lyrics. These were songs of life, love lost, love found, survival, sacrifice, suffering, romance, imagination. They fueled the yet unknown dreams of a young mean tomboy who had found feminine solace in those audio works of art. I still can’t find the download link to one of the songs, but one of them is 98 percent trough, and the other 16 percent. There’s time. ….Gimme a break will you?

..now listening to Rogers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella song, “a lovely night”… 

A lovely night, a lovely night

A finer night you know you’ll never see

You meet your prince, a charming prince

As charming as a price will ever be

The stars in the hazy heavens tremble above you

While he’s whispering, “darling I love you”

You say goodbye, away you fly

But on your lips, you keep a kiss

All your life you’ve dreamed of this

Lovely, lovely night…



There was Phil Collins with his smooth, age affected, tenor, lulling me to musical and creative depths I never knew existed within me. He made me feel the pain of love lost in do you remember”, I learnt compassion from “another day in paradise”, my feet tingled with the joy of dancing in “dance into the light”, I felt the first stirrings of betrayal and lust with “in the air tonight”, I learn to let myself go and be myself with “true colours”, and the hope of reuniting came with “you’ll be in my heart”

Tracy ah Tracy Chapman. I initially confused her for a man, but soon got over her male voice. She made me conscious of suffering, motivation and hope with “talkin’ bout a revolution” and “mountains o things”. She revealed the pure joy that came with helping the one you love in “for my lover”, the sharp sting of betrayal and the powerlessness of love in “baby can I hold you”.

Now I realize why I never truly forgot these songs, and why as soon as I played them, ten years after, the lyrics spewed forth perfectly from my tongue like old friends reciting their promises to keep each other in their hearts forever. I’m never gonna be musically inclined, but I will forever appreciate these classics who stirred the first feelings of emotions in a helpless, misunderstood, tomboyish seven year old.

Thank you guys.. Thank you aunt Morenike