Let me tell you how to live your life. I am your friend, after all. Well, yes, we have not shared in truth in a while, and your name does not pass my lips in prayer, but it does when I complain about you. About how you have made such a mess of things, of how your life could be so much better than this. Let me tell you how your life should go. I am standing on the outside, and I can see your situation so much clearer than you can.
On most social media platforms, the part of my profile that stumps me is the “bio”, or “about me” section. I just cannot figure out what to write. I sit and I think deeply, sometimes even leave the space blank for days. Then I come back and type something. Then I erase it and type a different one. Then I erase that different one and type another one. Then I come back after a few days and change that other one; I can’t seem to find satisfactory words to describe myself in a way that is fitting for the public. It has to say just
You know this isn’t me, right? Good. I’ve been hiding my face and my voice. Because you don’t know me like that, and the Internet is a place where you have to tread with sense. But the thing is, truth resonates; it’s what people connect to. Well, normal people. Also, you have to wake up every day and try. This is not to say I have gotten past the hiding, it’s just a declaration. The rest will be figured out.
This post is a response to one of Blogging 101 Daily prompts. Sometimes I don’t put up posts because the ideas in my head end up stretching and going on forever and ever and I can never seem to finish them. Anyway, this is a brief post for a change. It’s a video of one of the songs I like. Enjoy.
Hi guys! This is a repost of something I wrote back in ’13 on the TSC blog. Ladies and Gentlemen, Voldemort-type creatures, and all you lovely females who commute via broomstick, I’m about to tell you how I found the love of my life, or rather, how love found me. On some days, you wake up and think it’s going to be business as usual or business as planned, but the universe cures you of your audacious thinking by slapping you in the face with its own superior plans. On one of such days, I went out with my cousins and on our way back
I’ve been blogging for a while, but I thought I’d give this class a try. The first assignment is to write a post on who I am and why I’m blogging. I’m Olubukola and I love to write. That’s one of the reasons why I started this blog. That and because a friend encouraged me to. Another reason is because I want to share my work and grow in the process. It’s nice when you get feedback about something you created. This blog is for fiction, opinions and book reviews, and I would love to meet writers, authors, readers, agents and publishers on this platform.
This matter has been in my head for quite a while. And I’ve been trying to contain it, but I think it’s time to let it out. Some of us humans, women especially, are quick to believe and adopt hogwash. We advertise these beliefs through memes. Sometimes, I check my BBM updates and I see all sorts. “A woman deserves a prince that will cross seven seas and seven oceans for her”, “If you don’t bow down and worship your woman every morning, she will walk away and find another man who can”, “It is the duty of men in life to make you happy,
I remember you Your deep frown and hearty laugh The way your eyes lit up when you were pleased And how they darkened and almost disappeared as your grin widened in mischief I remember how you would fold both hands and place them on your head as you sat Or bring them together at your back as you walked Kicking pebbles, shifting the weight of the world from one shoulder to the other
I arrived at the Bus Park tired from work, and I had no desire to be assaulted by sweaty, dirty, people, so I looked out for my public transport seat of choice: the window seat on the first row of passenger seats. I prefer the window seat because it gives unlimited access to fresh air, and less contact with sticky human skin. On this day however, I was not so lucky; the seat had been taken. The man who sat there seemed nice enough. He wasn’t dirty, at least not obviously, and his skin wasn’t glistening with sweat, so I figured it wouldn’t be so