Life Lessons - Blog Posts

Be sincere, man. Where is it unreachable? Where?

If you love that destination, no place is unreachable. Because love— love is the fuel that takes us to distant lands we dream of, but have no map for.

Love, only love, man. Nothing else. Nothing much.

A life-changing epiphany.

A complication.

A trepidation

that even in 

the insurgents,

the ones with 

bottles and bottles 

of red pills,

the Mavericks.

Within them,

lies those 

still 

enslaved by 

the very fruits of their rebellion.

This is the 11th day of 

waiting. 

seated in the same spot 

grindling my hands 

to type

and 

what gets out is 

ddddhhhhdhdjdhdhddhkjsdhjdsh. 

Whatever part of the 

brain that platitudinized me to write 

is dead now. 

It made me fall in love, 

and now—kaput—it's gone.

Uuuuh what a devoid day ! 

I am dissolving 

into a desolate form.

Compiling Mirthday feels like walking through a forest of thoughts, deciding which trees to let grow and which to prune. This book is my heart in prose and poetry—a map of solitude’s hidden trails. SOLITUDE AND LONELINESS, TIME AND CHANGE, INDETITY AND EXPECTATIONS, THE ABSURDITY OF LIFE, MENTAL HEALTH AND SOCIETY EXPECTATIONS all loom in atleast all the pieces i have so far collected .

feel free to be a part of this experience here and its free mate.

https://www.patreon.com/lifepath25

A life-changing epiphany.

A complication.

A trepidation

that even in 

the insurgents,

the ones with 

bottles and bottles 

of red pills,

the Mavericks.

Within them,

lies those 

still 

enslaved by 

the very fruits of their rebellion.

The mothers

only pray

to get

Lawyers

Doctors

Presidents

and

Engineers

then

the world

stares on,

finding it hard 

to give us all our daily havocs,

for the rest 

of our lives.

Some are whores

and 

gigolos 

so you

marry them at

your own

risk

that when you

find them

extramarital

you know that

this was it,

the destiny thing.

I am losing my religion Only to find God.

i am losing the preacher man's address only to find the scripture's directions.

i am losing all hope only to find my life beautifully wovened from the start to end by God.

Losing and gaining, losing and gaining.

God, the divine architect of justice and fairness.

And the prominent

question man

is not in who

loves us,

but

in who returns

the love

when we offer

it first.

ooh God, good Lord

the pain then, the seasons of lamentations, that seemed to never have an end. the tragic distances of people from me. Was it all to mean that You alone was worthy of my trust ?

ooh God, good Lord

it was it was it was .

Now,with this modest relief and fleeting felicity ooh God it was you that deserved my trust all along.

Meaning of words.

You said then

that

my love murders

you in a beautiful

way

and that you don't

think of an

existence without

it

so in that i

thought you

would go extinct

upon our failure.

But as time grows

all i have seen is a you

blooming.

Was it a lie ?

and my love

was totally a nothing

to you ?

please

please  tell

me

and tell

the one

murdering you

now

not to highly think

of things for

all of it is

just a jumble of

words.

Peonies on caskets. It's all yours. your wait your study. Engulf in your time and if it kills them you can as  well send them condolence messages and lovely peonies to be put on there caskets.

What's heartbreaking is, that some don't even understand the love they demand and desire to be given and this has tremendously led to more oceans of sorrow and unbearable pain.

I have given up on everything except the believe, in thyself as if am anything special

Birds flying out of there nests, the sun unwrapping itself for the day some geniuses are being born and some are breathing there last. In the same chaos the fearful are sneaking into the world as if they can do a thing or two in it. Others fearfully in defeat escape it, they have lived it all not as they wanted but as fear mapped it out for them.

Birds flying out of there nests, the sun unwrapping itself for the day some geniuses are being born and some are breathing there last. In the same chaos the fearful are sneaking into the world as if they can do a thing or two in it. Others fearfully in defeat escape it, they have lived it all not as they wanted but as fear mapped it out for them.

Once, I was a fisherboy— happy with everything that happened.

It’s all behind me now. Everything that happens intimidates me.

Someday, I’ll reach the great lakes, become a fisherboy again, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll learn to enjoy what time offers me.

Fisherboy

How I love the beer company ads of non drinkers. They fully mirror the kind of world we are in, how it fucks us up and then advertises itself as a better place to live in.

But as it happens in us squalors it’s worse in the high society clique. Selfishness, rape, murder, witchcraft and every kind of unthinkable behavior. Relate this to Africans who die with a delusion that there is equal rights and freedom in the west, they die with a naked kind of lie.

If you think I need love, read me instead and dare to accept what you have seen on the crappy pages. Cram me I yearn to be known by not the world but you, the one who think I deserve some love.

The problem was perhaps that I existed, and you existed. We could not overlook each other, yet all we ever offered one another was pain and bitter memories.

life is all that we got,ours not there's.

art by @kmcvisuals

Is it human to destroy hearts in the seek for love ? Why isn’t it immoral not to love as you are loved ?

Love can be mastered. Days as they surpass each other love can grow where it never was. Though, the art of loving yourself is surely a hard seed to plant, grow or finally harvest.

But do we stop, halt and realize that we are indeed still breathing?

Because no matter the emotions

or

notions of what we intend to do or become,

the mere fact that we are breathing is a salient one.

Maybe the only lesson life has for us is love for what we were, for what we are, and for what waits, even as we slip into whatever comes after.

Mirrors, they influence us into beings that burden us to be.

Eventually, I am getting old, old but fine, like gold. If you'd asked me, five years ago, I wouldn’t have predicted patches of happiness even for a day in my life. But here I am, getting old— and loving it, to the moon.

a happy birthday to me on this 10th

there is beauty in building up something, love in watching it grow, Satisfaction when it stands and experience when by fate it fails.