Out Of My Mind!

Once upon a time there lived a boy, a naughty boy, a little boy with nothing in his hands but trouble on the double. One golden morning our naughty little boy set out on an adventure to destroy the peace. He said to himself, “oh look how all these folks go through life with ease. If I can’t have my piece, I’ll fill their tanks with flees!”

So the little boy started on his journey of evil. He stopped by the gates of the yellow cottage on the hillside that was the home of Mrs Widow Kensworth. He shouted, “Little old lady, Little old lady, Come out Come out I have a treat for you. Bring me your dog and today alone I will give him a wash for no Penny”

He did this jumping from house to house, yard to plot and by the break of noon he had collected enough flees to fill the bucket at his knees. A few minutes of rest will do, he said to himself, having shown great determination to disrupt the pleasant joy in this comfy little town.

You see, this little naughty boy that lived once upon a time was a city boy. He had travelled with his mother from town to town, always being forced to move because his mother’s work was apparently “unorthodox” (whatever that means)…He had heard this description of his mother’s work from his friend Rufus back when they lived in Handercliff-town. Rufus overheard his father spreading the news to his mother over dinner and the round table…

Anyway, yes, he was a city boy you see, and he liked the fast and uncertain life that those folks live that side. And since they were always moving, him and his mother, he became rather lonely and began giving up on ever making friends if it only meant that he would leave them a couple of months after growing fond and a bond with them.

Eyyy, pssssttt!!! it’s supposed to be “his mother and him”…and I’m not lonely, I just really think this place is boring and I’d like to give them a little something to get their blood pumping…haha, IF you know what I mean *WINK*

Woah, WHAT? HOW? WHO’s DOING THAT?!!

It’s me mate, I’m doing it. You’re doing it to be exact, but practically I’m the one doing it. Here’s a suggestion, Try making me sound less like some antient Medieval folktale…Give me an I-phone and a Kim Kardashian, come on man, I’m your imagination…live a little!

First of all, Who are you?

I’m the little naughty boy. You know, the one you didn’t even bother to name. Thanks a lot Einstein…

You’re the naughty Boy in the story that I’m writing?

Yes mate, Come on, Don’t act like this is the first time you’ve ever spoken to yourself. Just because I came now in the form of a fancy little character you were trying to create, doesn’t mean I’m any less realer than any of your other thoughts…

Wow, I never thought I’d ever have one of my stories talk back to me, this is weird. should I be worried? Ahh man, now for sure I’m going crazy! *SIGH*…How did this happen?

Ah dude, I wasn’t here for a Q and A session. I only wanted to suggest that you put me in the next scene with an actual babe instead of some Granny in a cottage bro, Come on!!

Haha, I like the feel of that story, You just had to be patient and wait until the end of the story and stop being like everyone else who likes jumping to conclusions, and even worse, like the rest of the other thoughts that come out of my head without even giving each other a chance to finish and me a chance to breathe and catch some air, and have some peace…man, why doesn’t anyone ever just let me have my piece?

Damn! Chill bro. I’m only here because you believe in me so much. I am a figment of your imagination, I’ve been in your head for so long and now you finally took the time to write about me. And when you wrote about me, you probably allowed me to manifest and I just had to take my opportunity man. As you said, those thoughts in your head don’t play fair, so I thought I’d just pop up and ask that you give me a few nice things to go back with you know, just until the next time you think about me…

Ya well I’m sure you know that I don’t really have much control over what happens in there man. And I’m sure there are some rules, or at least there should be some rules against words talking back to their author or whatever you are…

Hells Yeah there are rules bro! Haha But read up, you’re the one who said I’m a naughty Boy..Haha, So I guess this is me pouring flees into your tea pot too hehe…Now Give me a name, It will help you remember me, Please bro…

Okay, here’s your name, Fold! Now do as your name and Fold back to where you came from!

 

 

 

 

Times have Changed. Here’s an Update.

My child, I have traveled the ends the world many a times, seen the depths of a man’s heart deeper than even the greatest ocean would ever dare to surf. Love? I have known and lost. If you were to come in here tomorrow at dawn asking of hope, I can split your heart apart and put it together again by the end of moonlight and you would never care to partake in another of that meaningless chatter that you youths indulge yourselves in these days. You waste precious effort allowing contraction in your throat in the name of small talk. You have wronged, indeed by walking up to me with such a tame excuse of a presentation which I can assure any strange man on the street that you went through mars and all of the milky way in construction and deconstruction, addition and erasing, next time you would do best to think less and ask not, for I will not even bother to breathe a word of response with regard to your concerns.

But father, no, Dad…All my friends will be there and this event will be the decider of my reputation, not only for the rest of this year but also going into college next year. Even the lamest of the lames may create names for themselves this weekend. Spenser has just gone through a break up with that girl from next province and he has made it known that he will be on the lookout for a new love at this very event and I have a feeling he has got in his mouth a taste for a girl of my texture and type, you know, the kind that shies away from the hype, doesn’t get high and is bolted firmly into her roots.

You dare speak of bolts and roots and still bear the nerve to stand in your muddy boots and argue with me? If indeed this boy tingles for a mannered girl, you have proven in this very moment that you are not that. Let us then speed up the process, save ourselves senseless therapeutic sessions and pity stories when your disillusioned plans plummet into fumes and leave this entire household in the despair with the next excuse which you will mistakenly label as heartbreak. please and thank you…let us abandon this.

You know what you must do? call up a good friend and spend this time rather, in the comfort and safety of this lovely home your mother and I have worked tirelessly to build for your development and all else. Trust me, the time will come when you will know the true meaning of sacrifice and loss. Which reminds me, not that I could ever forget, of the brave young men who give up fear and aimless daydreams to stand firm in their numbers for the honor of defending their country and all its peoples, now those are the kind of men who can even dare to speak of preference. Especially when talking about women who are firmly tailored and mannered in their culture. Nothing in this world is just given, nothing that if truly of value is ever begged for, and lousy and shameless is a man who cries for respect when he fails even in the slightest of ways to inspect himself, his doings of past and his doings now, before he decides upon himself a position to make demands as if he has earned even the right to attain attention, not to mention, the affection of a woman with direction, devotion and well groomed dedication.

I am sorry to offer you a teaching as my elder and parent, for indeed you have earned in your time, the right and position to speak and be heard. But it is unfortunate and therefore, correct for me to give you an update. For the times have changed, this I may reveal unto you old wise man. Yes, times have gone and birth has been given to an era anew. Let today be the day that we wash the windows as I give you a new lens to apply onto your eyes. I am not of those brave young men who stand on the front line with our flag and frankly I am quite content if not ecstatic for that matter. I have grown with my eyes open, looking outward first before inward because out there there is the world. I am able to stand with my chest in bulk because I have learned the ways of the modern woman. In no way has she lost her value, however, it is her who has given up its application for the thrill of a wild ride out by the seashore where her hair can follow her as she throws her hands in the air screaming, ” I don’t care”. And you may look at this and nod not, but I put no blame on these modern ladies because I concur that it was your generation and the people of its time that put those unjustifiable constraints on the poor female. so what if honor be lost? at what cost? for it was freedom that was sacrificed and with freedom stolen, no being would be able to hold on to pain for so long…

 

 

The technology in the Online/Blogging World.

I never actually thought that it would come to this. Well I always knew it was there, but I just always thought that I would somehow find enough cracks to avoid having to go through the struggle.

What is the struggle you ask? Technology. you know, computers and websites and all these other things that other people my age just simply push a few buttons and create in a flash.

When I started at University in my first year as a Law student, one of our modules was based on preparing students for the research part of the degree. We were set up into smaller groups and had sessions in a computer lab where we were walked through a few sites that would be useful to us throughout our time not only as students, but allegedly also when we would eventually become practitioners.

I breathed a sigh of relief. I made sure to pay attention and crammed three easy-to-use sites and I thought I would be sorted for the rest of my life. It’s the end of my third year now and I can say that those sites were more than enough. pheeew!

But then last year I started blogging. I created this site easily enough with the help of the structures that were already available on WordPress and I haven’t been bothered with the technical side of things ever since.

But now my Blog on the free domain has grown just as much as I had hoped it would have in a year, and so, my time on the free domain is coming to a grateful end as I am now planning on an upgrade to subscribe to the Premium account as my route to monetize my blog.

And as a result, I get to say sadly, “Here I am again”.  I have to learn new tricks on how to create the perfect site for myself and my readers. I have to learn how to add those buttons that when you click them, you automatically land on my Instagram page, or get a direct link to a relevant blog post, and eventually also add that button that will offer you, my dear readers, the opportunity to pay for any of the awesome services or products that I will create and make available for you in due course.

I’m optimistic. But right now I cannot help but give myself a great slap on the forehead for this stupid glitch in my skill set. As I laugh at myself to hide the tears inside, I’m gonna have to sit myself down for a minute or two just to ask, “WHY?” why did you watch the world growing into the online world while you were stuck being Old-school and Original? that’s so uncool and look at your restrictions now.

But it’s Okay, I’m so eager to make this blogging thing work, I’m going to dedicate – I don’t know how many hours, but all of my powers to break into this industry, brace yourselves, I’ll be bringing more of what I’ve been doing, bringing little more Psychology, Philosophy, Life Revelations, Coming of Age, and also letting you know how my new journey in Online Marketing and Marketing strategies is going and so on and so on…Peace and much Love.

Love is not Enough

Love is stronger than most, when I’m lost, getting back to you is the force behind my motive. Love reminds me that I’ve got to get in motion, to get back to you in order to overcome the constant, almost torturing thoughts of you that beautifully and frighteningly torment me from the inside-out.

And it’s this beautiful fear that makes me say that love is not enough. You know how my thoughts love to wander, you’ve heard how my tongue sometimes stutters, and you’ve seen how my eyes uncontrollably linger in places that they probably shouldn’t. And what about my fingers, my hands just want to hold on to anything that presents itself as an opportunity…no, love is not enough.

Everything is an art. Science is an art, and art is a science. Nothing is just, and that’s because everything needs understanding. And how can you understand something? Well, you have to put the pieces together if you want that.

And that’s why love is not enough. Love is just another piece in the puzzle. Love is probably the biggest and most important, and don’t forget, rarest piece in the puzzle. Love is not enough because one day I’m not going to be around to hold your hand and make you feel safe in my arms. My presence won’t be around in every moment to keep the predators away. I’m not always going to be near to keep your emotions intact. And sadly, I’m not always going to be there to play along with your fantasies and make you believe that you and I can really take on this big old world together. no.

And when I’m gone, I am going to need to know that I am not forsaken. You know I always need to know that I’m not being taken for granted. I’m going to need to trust that your loyalty was not simply being paid for by the convenience of my availability. And you will also need that trust. That when I’m gone, no matter the miles ahead, nor the time in between will prove too tempting when I begin to run empty on the memories of your comforting smile and all the beautiful things you do unintentionally, effortlessly and unknowing that those are the things that keep me running back to you before nightfall each day.

Yes, the things that you do unintentionally. I’m talking about all the little sacrifices that go a long way at filling the gaps in one another that make us feel so much stronger when we are together. The way you always choose the kind route when I’m so fixed on being right, and whatever it is that I do that carries you through the tears of a stressful day. I’m telling you, love is not enough.

Patience in my times of worry, humility over your pride, these are the things we need to carry in every stride. Jealousy is cute when it shows that you care, but you always show gratitude for my littlest efforts. I swear these things give me comfort. Confront me when I have wronged you even just a little, because communication once saved a nation I tell you. Silly jokes and tickles to remind us of our youth, let’s just enjoy all of these and friendship because love is not enough.