Have you ever had an experience which on the surface seems so benign but when you look deper, you realize how earth shattering it ? Okay, maybe earth shattering is too dramatic but something along those lines. I am talking about an experience if you shared with other people will get you an "Hmm, ooookay?" response because they can't see beyond the surface. So you bury 'em in the deep recess of your mind.

However, once in awhile it slips out but you manage to shove it down. . . and before you know it you are playing a game of whack-a-mole with your thoughts, not just that, it starts growing, having its own personality, its voice, it starts taking over, it’s winning, eating away at every normal thought you ever had, sometimes you can even hear it laugh! You can't sleep, you can't eat, you are helpless and you need to deal with it, purge it out or else you fear you will go mad! Bonkers! Stark raving mad. . . . Have you?!!!

Yeah. . . me neither. 

I hear it happens and I thought I'D ask.

Anyhoo, welcome to my thread, where anything goes.

MOURNING

Chivalry is dead!

It is Time to mourn!

It is Time to reflect on how Chivalry touched us all

If chivalry was a human being and you were called spur of the moment to reminisce about it, how would you react? Will it be. . .

1)  A Deer caught in a headlight reaction.
2) A Cat that got the cream

Sadly for many Nigerian women, the first is often the case.

A month ago, I took my nephew to a birthday party. It was in a park and honestly, I can’t deny it, I had fun. As a matter of fact, I’ll take it one step further and say I always have fun at children’s parties. . . apart from being so much older than them, giving me the advantage to win all the games, I enjoy watching kids have fun. Children are so uninhibited and it’s amazing how they take pleasure in the something as simple as a paper caught in the wind. Seriously, you’d have to be on a totally different . . . abnormal emotional level not to feel them and even moved to join in. . . that or a Naija daddy.

Gasps

Oh! Oh! Do you hear that. . .  the sound of 10000 Naija men coming for me!
My offense – First Degree Generalization. Punishment – Lifetime of hell on earth, which in MANSPEAK means manless fur-evah!.

Oh, pipe down boys, sheesh!  I KNOW THERE ARE EXCEPTIONS TO EVERYTHING IN LIFE, okay? I know there are wonderful Nigerian men out there, I know there are amazing Nigerian dads, who take pleasure in the sound of their children’s happiness, who without even knowing what he’s laughing at, smile when they hear him do. I know there are GOOD NIGERIAN DADDIES and HUSBANDS out there. . . I KNOW! I KNOW! I KNOW! So it goes or rather it should go without saying that this is NOT directed at the WONDERFUL, AMAZING, CARING, WONDERFUL Husbands and Fathers.

Ay! Sucking up sucks!

Anyway, back to the park

The party went very well, apart from the whole . . . daddies standing on the other side of the park, totally disconnect from the group, drinking their Hyyynikins part, of course. Okay, wait. . . before anyone jumps down my throat, I don’t hold it against them.  I’m "aware" enough to know that kind of thing is a NO NO. Sure it would have been nice to have had the daddies join in when they called for the parent-child relay or the parent-child 3 legged race, but seriously I can see how that might be perceived as something beneath them, so let’s just forget that side.

The part where it all went to hell was after the party and it was time to clean up. A few of us who had offered to help did so, carrying on like happy little beavers, picking stuff off the grass, emptying large gorodoms and basias of ice (took two of us to carry one), taking packs drinks, empty and half empty coolers to the cars, dismantling the rented chairs and putting them back on the rack like the rental company instructed. . . . We, WOMEN all of us. . .  and the men? Gisting away like old biddies in a nursing home.

Yep, not one even the smallest muscle in their body moved to our direction

After I caught my finger for the fifth time folding the chairs, I thought. . .  Nah! Nah! that it, I not about to lose a nail over a party that had nothing to do with me and mine. If the husband’s puny brain cannot tell him. . . "Hey man, put the discussion on hold and go help your wife fold the 150 chairs used for your child's party" and she does not have the guts to say “Honey, do you mind helping me with these”. . .  then it is their problem, not mine. So I washed my hands. . . literally and figuratively speaking, went to fetch my nephew, ready to say my adios to them and what did I see. . . the celebrant’s mother, her sister and a friend  trying to dismantle to the freaking tent!

I'll give you a mental picture

On this corner we have the celebrant's daddy, his uncle and about three to four of daddy’s friend, standing, talking and drinking, the average weight and height for all six men is probably 230lb and 6ft. On the other corner are three women, average weight and height 180lb and 5.6, attempting to take a 27’ by 42’ tent (I asked. . . for when I tell people).  I could not believe it. I understand not playing with the kids, I understand not logging bags of ice back and forth but this. . . nah!  I’m stood there my mouth wide open looking from the men to women, men to women, men to women. . .  trying to telepathically slap some sense into one group. I was so angry, I thought what should I do? I came up with two options, stump my feet on the floor like a brat or scream . . so I screamed

“Aaaaaaah!”

Oh my poor nephew, he was shaken but the end justified the means because I got everyone's attention, wondering why I was shrieking like a banshee. Oh I thought the tent was about to fall on them, I said innocently. At last they noticed the women and it only took the thought of one of the women getting maimed by a tent pole but they noticed. . . that's all that mattered. The men looked at the women and the women looked at me because they knew the tent wasn’t about to do jack!

I'm sure you're thinking these men immediately put their drinks away and went to help, right? Ha! Come on! You should know better than that. The daddy still had to ask “Do you need help over there? and Mommy's answer “If you don’t mind”

Oh my God! Insanity!!

Having gotten the confirmation that they won't be doing a task the women can do, all of them with their potbellies, waddle over to the tent and started dismantling it. I shook my head, grabbed my nephew’s hand with one thought in my mind. . . I need out NOW! I was putting my nephew in his car seat when the wife’s friend came to me, started hitting me playfully and laughing. “Aah! Omo ake ni woo mo yi” (I don’t know how to translate that in English). She told me she had been pissed off all day because of the man's unhelpful attitude but she didn’t want to say anything to ruin her friend’s day and blah, blah. . .  Yeah, yeah, yeah. I smiled, giggled, said goodnight, got in my car and sped off.

I needed to get as far away from these men as fast as I could, forgetting for a moment that it was impossible because they are everywhere!

At the malls, hands in pocket, nary a care in the world, while their wives struggle with four shopping bags and trying to keep the “[i]o jo mi” [/i]brats in line,

At the airport, sitting in the driver’s side as their wives struggle to get her luggage out of the trunk. . . after having to remind him to open it and heaven help her if she does not get it out on time, she will be eating car dust.

At church walking in front of the carseat and diaper bag carrying, child controlling woman.

At the grocery store, sitting in the car watching their wives load bags and bags of grocery in the trunk.

Chivalry is dead, they say. . . mourn it.

How?

How do you mourn something you never knew?

@Sisikill, i feel you my sister. Yeah, chilvary is dead, it's a rare occasion wen a man chooses 2 lend a helping hand to a tired and hassled woman, It's a man's world.

Chivalry was never "alive", fairy tales and fictional romance novels notwithstanding.

Ah. Our Lady of Sisikill. I have a good feeling about this thread. So the rules are there are no rules, huh?. Just bare your mind? I'll be sure to return with whatever bites my soul. And by the way, since I'm still breathing, chilvary is not dead just decimated. You know, like Hip-pop.

Here's a bummer!

Have y'all ever wondered when we get to heaven (mighty confident of me, abi but I abhor 'if' in that case) will there be new colours. Not new mixes and new tones and whatever but new 'primary' colours. Say for instance you hadn't seen blue, any shade of it or anything like it before. And all of a sudden you're faced with it. Can you imagine a new colour, surely impossible. It's not even as likely as a monkey typing Romeo and Juliet, because the chances are nil. I used to be bothered whether, say, coffee tasted the same to everybody, but after a lot of reasoning and more reading I've concluded that it does. Most perceptions are universal! Rantings of a stark raving mad man? I'll be back with more itches I can't quite scratch!

My brother brought me a Scrabble game. I installed it last week but only got interested in it yesterday. Me and the CPU got it rolling. After a while the CPU plays Caress. Then handle. Then Hard (I didn't think in terms of Hard formica, I thought Hard-on). When the darn thing played Suck, I closed the computer and went to read a book. I'm wondering what this means. Am I getting none or is the CPU a rauchy bastard?

The above is a true story, not for effect

jummiee:

@Sisikill, i feel you my sister. Yeah, chilvary is dead, it's a rare occasion when a man chooses 2 lend a helping hand  to a tired and hassled woman, It's a man's world.

It's so sad! I don't know when lending a helping hand became a matter of man ego.

Seun:

Chivalry was never "alive", fairy tales and fictional romance novels notwithstanding.

Lol, Seun don't make me laugh! The fact that some Nigerian men wouldn't recognize it if it came up, introduced itself to them and sat on their lap. . . does not mean it never existed.

vescucci:

Ah. Our Lady of Sisikill. I have a good feeling about this thread. So the rules are there are no rules, huh?. Just bare your mind? I'll be sure to return with whatever bites my soul. And by the way, since I'm still breathing, chilvary is not dead just decimated. You know, like Hip-pop.

Of course, My fair Prince! Never once did it cross my mind that you would be one of the. . . the you knows. You sir, grew up in a city close to my heart! You can do no wrong in my book.

And Yes! The rules are NO RULES. This is a trashcan and I don't recycle, so anything goes!

Sisikill that line

"and before you know it you are playing a game of whack-a-mole with your thoughts" just cracks me up, i can identify!

and Vescucci,
in heaven i imagine that in addition to new colours, we have new senses with which to experience them, like suddenly we can hear the difference in shades of purple, ok that sounds wierd now that i write it down, ramblings,

vescucci:

Here's a bummer!

Have y'all ever wondered when we get to heaven (mighty confident of me, abi but I abhor 'if' in that case) will there be new colours. Not new mixes and new tones and whatever but new 'primary' colours. Say for instance you hadn't seen blue, any shade of it or anything like it before. And all of a sudden you're faced with it. Can you imagine a new colour, surely impossible. It's not even as likely as a monkey typing Romeo and Juliet, because the chances are nil. I used to be bothered whether, say, coffee tasted the same to everybody, but after a lot of reasoning and more reading I've concluded that it does. Most perceptions are universal! Rantings of a stark raving mad man? I'll be back with more itches I can't quite scratch!

It is bummer! One of those things you really don't want to think about because if you do, you kinda start questioning the purpose of IT all. Was watching the Sci fi channel the other day and this guy goes on and on about the earth hurtling into oblivion. . . to its original state and I thought how would we know? We can't know because we won't exist but how can we not exit? How does it feel not to exist? Feel? Did I just use the word feel? Why am I worrying about that when we won't be around anyway? Insanity! Okay, the world is in oblivion, we don't exist. . . what then? Just darkness? But Darkness is a human perception, if Humans don't exist to perceive it, we can't call it darkness can we? We? What we? There won't be any WE to call anything. . . anything. So what now?  

candide:

Sisikill that line

"and before you know it you are playing a game of whack-a-mole with your thoughts" just cracks me up, i can identify!

and Vescucci,
in heaven i imagine that in addition to new colours, we have new senses with which to experience them, like suddenly we can hear the difference in shades of purple, ok that sounds weird now that i write it down, ramblings,

LOL! I'm glad someone feels it too. It's so annoying, it's like how do you stop yourself from thinking about something when thinking about stopping yourself from thinking about it is thinking about it.

I won't think about it - Whack
But you are thinking about it - Whack
Shoot! that's right I am - Whack!
And you still are - Whack!

Oy! It's by the grace of God, i have not sought solace in the bottle. I hear it does wonders in silencing the voices.

Lmao@ at weird. . . what is weird? More importantly, what is rambling and who defines it? One man's rambling is another person's deep thoughts. Please "ramble away!! 

I love movies. I love watching them, I love reading about them but more than anything, I love watching them being made, in my opinion, this is way more interesting than the end product. What I especially love in the movie making process is the CUT and the TAKES.

The actor flubs a line, director yells CUT

The actress isn’t emoting  as she should? CUT

The story is not going the in right direction? CUT.

CUT is the chance to work the kinks out and once they feel they are ready to go again, you hear the call

Alice in wonderland, Scene 4, Take 2

Alice has just been given the chance for a do-over.

Sweet!

I wonder what life will be like if we all a chance to CUT!

“Okay, moving to Las Vegas is not what I thought it would be. Director? Producer. . . anybody? Do you mind if we went back to the day I bought my ticket? Yeah, that morning, I'm can buy the Oshogbo Ticket instead”

Alrighty then!

Travelling with Sisikill  Scene 7, Take 2

Viola! It’s all been erased!

Sounds cool, huh? I know.

Before I really got into movies, I used to be fascinated with turning back time. If you are wondering what mistakes I’ve made in the past. . . don’t. This is not about me, it’s about 2 people, whose story I can’t stop thinking about. Every day, every hour, every minute, I think "How differently things could have turned out, How happier they would have both been, if someone had yelled CUT when it started to go downhill.

Their Story

A guy, we’ll call him Niyi meets this girl Hadiza, while studying in abroad. They fall madly in love. . . he has no qualms showing it but she a little bit on the reserved side. I think unlike him, she is more grounded and does not allow her emotions to overshadow the many factors against them. For one, she’s Hausa and he is Yoruba, She is the first girl in her family to go to beyond secondary school. . . in a foreign country no less.  She does not want to abuse that opportunity by allowing love to distract and He. . . well, he was a man.

He manages to convince her that love conquers all, True love never dies and all the other love clichés. She relents and goes with the flow. He was right. . . or at least somewhat right, their love conquers their family objections, friends’ misgivings and society’s rules. They got married. Had a lovely Honeymoon and prepared to live happily ever after in his hometown in Ogun state. She got a job as a teacher in one of the local school, he worked for his father.

Everything was perfect. . .

. . . Or so they hoped.

By the end of their first year, they started having issue . . . no matter how hard they tried (and they did) they couldn’t get pregnant. So all the problems they thought they had overcome came rushing back.

“Only God knows what is wrong with her Hausa womb! All those concoction the make them drink all in the name of being fertile, who knows that they have mixed with what"

“He can’t get her pregnant? Well Color us shocked! Not! Like we didn’t know Yoruba men are not the most virile men out there”

On and on and on it went that by their 3rd year, they were strangers in their own home. Those who knew them said it was obvious they still loved each other but everything else going on in their life buried the love. This made it easier for him to succumb to family pressure by taking another wife, who of course got pregnant, just like that. He was very, very, very sad the day he told Hadiza his 2nd wife was pregnant. She accepted the news as dignified as she could in the circumstance, wished him well and told him she wasn’t staying. She would go back to her parents’ house in Zaria, continue her teaching job and just live her life. No, she wasn’t asking for a divorce but she couldn’t stay in the house with him and his 2nd wife. 

He pleaded with her but she stood her ground even though it hurt her. They would still be husband and wife but not in the same house.  If he loved her, he would allow her do this. So he did. She moved back to father’s compound, luckily she had her own private flats away from prying eyes. He would come see her every weekleaving his newly pregnant 2nd wife with his family. In the fourth month of the pregnancy, Hadiza got pregnant, making Niyi the happiest man ever. He all but abandoned the other woman and carried on like this was his first child.

Understandably, this pissed the other woman off and it didn’t help that she had the support of his family but Niyi didn’t care, it seemed in his mind her child was his family’s child and Hadiza’s was his. This caused a lot of family problems with the other woman’s family pitching their tent with his family. Ironically, it was during these brouhaha Hadiza’s family took to him. . . he had finally won them over. Unfortunately, they didn’t have much say in what was happening, all they had to offer was their support.

The 2nd wife had her baby, it was a boy, cementing her position as the mother of Niyi’s first son. It would be sweeter if Hadiza had a girl,  . . I bet she thought. Yeah, well no such luck. . . Hadiza had a boy about 2 months after hers and because it was premature, Niyi was at Hadiza’s side morning, afternoon and night, making it very clear he wasn’t budging, not that anyone tried to pry him away.  Their child survived and he assumed now that they were a family, she’d come back home and they would live happily ever after (honestly, I don’t know how men reason), she didn’t want to but she did it for him. The 2nd wife was not having any of that and given the fact that she was in her territory (she was also from Ogun state), she had the backings of her people. Hadiza on the other hand was a lone ranger with just her son and her husband but she was willing to live with the other woman’s troubles as long as it was directed at her.

One day, Hadiza came home from work to find her 3 years old son with marks on his body, His nanny told her the other woman had beaten him over a small offense. Hadiza went to the woman’s quarters, beat the living day lights out of her, packed her things and left the house. Niyi came home to utter confusion, found out Hadiza had gone back to Zaria, jets over there . . . all macho you are my wife and that is my son, now get in the car let’s go back home where you belong and she told him she would only if wanted her child dead before his 5th birthday.

I imagine he rolled his eyes at her high drama but she was insistent, there had been a few times her son eaten something the other woman prepared and became violently ill but they had always chucked it up to him being a premie baby and probably allergic to things. Anyway, they went back and forth for a long time and she said NO. He got angry and said whatever, you are no longer my wife. . . blah, blah, blah, this, this, this, that, that, that and poof! It was over. Oh he still saw his son and all but whatever was between them was no more.

She never had any other child, she threw herself into bringing up her son and her work, she became the headmistress of an all girls school (she considered all of them her children) and He went on to have 4 more children with his 2nd wife,  2 with his 3rd, 1 with his 4th and a few bastards sprinkled all over the state. yes! After losing Hadiza, he didn’t seem to care. Once in a while, their paths crossed. . . for their son’s graduation, when he got married, the naming ceremony of their grandchildren but it was understood there is no going back. When she died at 53, he locked himself in his rooms for days; it was their son and his brother who had to talk him out.

Oh yeah, another Irony, Hadiza’s son and the other woman’s son become very close, they would joke about being th first twins born two months apart. Their children grew up to be the closest of all Niyi’s grandchildren, ready to do battle for one another and people knew better than to try and come between them. . . it was them vs. everyone else, which included cousins from the other wives. Hadiza's granchildren got to know their step grandmother and found her. . . let’s just say she was not the ogre or the wicked witch of the west they had imagined (I've always wanted to know what she thinks when she looks at them)

Well there you have it.

If you subscribe to the whole it is better to have loved and lost than to never love at all. . . you probably see nothing wrong with this story. For me, it is a sad story, there is nothing sweet about it. I mean seriously, who won here? Hadiza who died of a broken heart? Niyi who naively believed love can conquer all or his 2nd wife who spent her life living in the shadows of another, knowing no matter what she did. . . she would never be the ONE for husband? How about his other wives. . . sucked into an already screwed up life all because Niyi wanted to prove himself? 

If I had the power to yell CUT, I'll do it in a heartbeat, save everyone the heartache and redo the moment Hadiza and Niyi met . . . so they don’t. Of course, I’ve been told doing this would be tantamount to cutting off my nose to spite my face because the chances I’ll be here today if they never happened is slim to none. . . see, they were my grandparents.

Even with that in mind, I’m still not convinced this story does not deserve another take. I find it extremely unfair that one wrong turn can derail your entire life story. . . and I can't stop thinking about it.



NB
I was told this story by someone who might not be the most unbiased person but I think I'm objective enough to see through emotional outbursts. For instance, I don'y believe the day he went see her in the Zaira after the beating was the day the called it quits. I think there's more to it but it really doesn't matter, does it?

i want to get something straight
are we talking about yelling "cut" when things begin o go down hill
or just life in general?
if its about yelling cut,
u have no idea how many times i have actively tried and attempted to go back into the past and right some wrongs
its an excercise in futility u might saY
but i succeeded in one aspect,
mose times i ruined things more than i could have ever imagined
this doesnt however mean i beleve in the whole issue of one's life being writtemn down or watever planned b4 such a person came into being
i mean ok take forexample
my life was written that ok,
ill kill a guy
then hide his body
then i go scot free
yadi yadi yada
but hold up!
when im about to cut his jugular vein i stop
i dont kill this man
are u saying that it was also written?
then back to now, that it was also written that ill be thinking of why something has been written that actually does exist but doesnt exist but does exist . . .
ok u get the picture
it makes sense honestly try to read thru it slowly c'mon am not sick in th head!
dont giove me that look!

LMAO! I know what you mean. You think you've commited the perfect crime, only to find out you missed something. Do you wanna go back and deal with it or let it go. . . but you really wanted to do it. Decisions, Decisions, Decisions!

In this case though, I am talking about real life. Having the power to CUT when it starts going downhill.

Sisikill. You had the good sense to include that footnote in the 'story'. I swear to God I was going to ask one of two things. How old you were or if the story was an excerpt from one of your stories. The way I see it everybody has a story, some are more dramatic/tragic/sick/adventurous/etc than others. But there are some inviolate facts.

I don't believe that crap that there's only one person for another. I just believe there's a certain kind, a certain breed. You know, like peacocks go after other peacocks and seals go after other seals. A panda falling for a croc is just plain obscene. We humans are a singular biological specie but emotionally, spiritually, mentally and all the -ally you can imagine we are a vast array of separate species. When you delude yourself you're in love with someone and you're actually in love with her booty or his doe. Won't be long before the shit hits the fan. Y'all just hang on, I'll soon land.

In my opinion, men are (most of us) naturally averse to commitment. polygamous is not the word but a guy until he falls in love (real ass kicking love) doesn't know the difference between Julia, Julianna, Julie or Jules. I like the way Julie smiles. I like the way Julianna walks etc. And that attracts them. But it is an exercise in futility to find someone who has all the things you want. So there's nothing like love based solely on character and looks. Hence the term; you gotta make it work.

Men are infinitely more greedy in this regard as a typical dude doesn't want to be bottled up in one place for too long. Doesn't want to be bottled up with one person for too long either. Chics mainly want security; sweep me away to la la land in your arms and all that crap.
Example! I have a friend who was at the threshold of marring one dude and cancelled the relationship. I asked why and she told me she found out she was the only one keeping in touch and the guy didn't make any attempt to reach her after she ignored him for three weeks! So without exchanging words they broke up. I sensed she wasn't heartbroken or anything of the sort and she confessed she was actually reall in love with someone else and this person--though she is sure to feel the same way--is scared to bare his feelings to her. Frankly I was disgusted. I didn't tell her this though. I thought how the hell can you run off with someone while being in love with someone else where there's no external pressure like old age, parents, tribe or whatever. Does anybody smell an overwhelming need for security? I couldn't be in love with someone and settle for anything but. Except if she doesn't feel the same way (which is very unlikely because I'D fall for someone who can emote like I) or she's like bethrothed to the Devil. I'm not even sure if that could deter me.

If you have been able to put up with me this far I'll close my case as regards the Sisikill story. I don't think they were really in love. They both just took a chance. Mind you the probably had a great affection for each other (more than I can say for most people getting hitched nowadas) but there was the extra secret ingredient missing. I have many more unconventional dispositions to matters of the heart but I'D need guided interrogations as I can be ver incoherent and hardl articulate sometimes. So I'D like to entertain cliche questions like 'do you believe in love at first sight', 'can you be involved in an orgy' etc. Whatever strikes y'all.

While y'all are talking about infinity and continuum and what not. I wanna ask if ou guys get the deja vu feeling that you had a deja vu feeling about something. Like ou think, he, this has happened once before when I thought this had happened. Onl it reall couldn't have happened for how could you have forgotten tearing up your university degree. You can only do that once. Well, you know what they say, it's a mad world with mad people in it.

halleluyah!!!!!
i am not sick in the head afterall!!
but will then be odd to say i have never experienced a true de-ja-vu feeling
mostly cos i fully remember why such a situation is eerily familiar?

Mad ke? I happen to dig people with a few screws loose (not too many) but u certainly aren't full fledged yet.

Never experienced deja vu? Now that's really strange. It's either you catalogue all your dreams or you have none. Anything else that 'doesn't happen' to you?

lol if i catalogue all my dreams then ill be a case study for advanced OCD
if i had no dreams,
ill be "normal"
since im neither of the two
guess its safe to say. . .
nuffin

wat doesnt happen to me?
err diff thread

Umm, see guys, I'm a very lousy poster (Sisikill'll attest to it ); I drop one post today, then I'm gone for what seems like forever. Maybe that's why I'm just seeing this thread for the first time. But for good ol' Abacus's sake, why oh why did y'all let such a loovly thread go belly-up? Don't tell me you've all run out of weird tales, cos I ain't buying it. Hecks, this thread's got the weirdest posters in Literature-Nrlnd - bluespice, V (don't worry V, I won't do the "sissy" thing again ) - and the lady of the gothic herself - Sisikill. So cough it up, I know y'all have skeletons between your pages - I'll go last, of course!

[size=14pt]Help! My writing Is Not Up To Par![/size]

I’ve always wanted to write, even before I could talk I knew I wanted to write and I actually thought I was good at it until. . . Untill recently I was told my writing is not up to par!

Bwahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

Hun. . . Wait, that was supposed to be crying. I mean that should be the normal reaction, right? Excuse me while I try to emote the right. . . Errr. . . Emotion. Okay, I keep coming up with laughter, is there something wrong with me? Why aren’t I weeping my eyes out? Why aren’t suicidal?

Aah, we will come back to that.

Back to my writing

I was recently approached by a friend to help with a project, a project I thought was really different and if done right, would blow people out of the water. My friend is smart. . . Trust me, he is. What is he has achieved in his young age is a testament to that.

At first I was reluctant, I had just finished a project and I needed my brain to veg out but because I have this obsessive compulsive disorder with writing, I took it on. Besides, he needed someone who could really write (his words not mine) and having read a few of my work, he thought I’ll be just right to help him out with this.

We came to an agreement

No Payment involved! You see, he was my friend after all and I won’t feel right taking anything from him. Apart from that, this was his first foray into a venture like this and having been there a coupe of times, I knew he would need all the money he can get his hands on.

So what did I want?

Absolutely nothing, I couldn’t careless. I honestly couldn’t. Out of the ‘goodness” of his heart, he offered me credit on the final product and I said fine, whatever works.

We were all set to begin. . . I had one request.

I have a job and a life. . . This won’t take top priority every time. I’ll try my best to give it top billing any chance I get but just remember it’s not always going to be.

Okay.

So how do we do this? I write I send it to you?

No, I want to watch you write. . . He tells me.

Huh, never worked that way before but…okay, I guess but seriously, having someone looking over your shoulder does not make for a great working atmosphere.

It didn’t work.

So we changed things around, after every couple of pages I would send it for a review and he’ll give me feedback. Again, this is not the most ideal because it breaks momentum but I went with it. I would write, send, wait and wait for feedback. When I get do get it, it’s a pouty remark about something not going in line what an idea he had in his head. Slowly we were getting toward unrealistic story telling, where there was no doubt in my head anyone who happened upon it would roll their eyes and gag at the silliness of it but hey, I went along for the ride because a few times when I made a suggestion, I was told in so many words, that write is all you I’m supposed to do.

Things went smooth or awhile but I started to notice an attitude change and since I had gone out of my way not to offend him, I figured it had nothing to do with me. So I pretended not to notice, made silly jokes to ease the tension and carried on.

Everything came to a heed when he sent me an I'm and I wasn’t around to respond because. . . You know that little thing called HAVING A LIFE and he loses it. Tells me he doesn't like been kept waiting.

Excuse me?

Did he think I would be sitting around waiting for him? I also have other things to do?

Well. . .  he tells me, he was trying to be nice to me by collaborating but  it all ends NOW. Whatever it is I wanted from him, I won’t be getting it.

Are you serious? This is what I asked. . . Tell me you are joking? Whatever I want from you? Are you forgetting who approached whom here? Are you forgetting who turned down your money?

He was going to pay me he said but not anymore.

Okay, at this point, I am freaking pissed off because I thought it was rude of him to blow up like that when there has have been a few times I’ve had to wait for him to reply my Ims. I understand he’s a busy person and I made it clear I also am busy.

A few emails went back and forth that when I found out the real reason for his Mr. Jekylle and Hyde personality -  He was no longer doing the project and he had wrongly assumed that I would demand payment in lui of the credit he had promised. So instead of telling me this,  he did the classic ignorant thing, he turned it into rough.

“I was going to pay you but not anymore, bye bye our collaboration ends and it is all your faul because it took you 30 -45 mins to respond to my whistle.”


My anger dissipated and I  told him he needn’t have gone that route, all he had to do was tell me what happened and that’s when he tells me my writing sucks, it was not up to par. . . At this point, you can imagine what I did.

Fell on the floor laughing my behind of course! Oh my Goodness, what a child.

Oh really? Now it sucks? Now it not up to par? Now when you want to back out of an agreement, my writing…the one you praised, the one you told me you thoroughly enjoyed, the one you thought was funny. . . That writing sucks, that writing is not up to par?

I laughed some more.

Gah! To say I am disappointed is an understatement, I excepted more from him, you know….maybe that was my mistake.  Giving him more credit than he deserved but you know what’s worse? People. . . About half a dozen people had warned me. Be careful they said, he is not the person you think he is. He is childish, belligerent and hard headed but worse than that, he thinks the world revolves around him but I thought to myself. . . The same way some of you are probably thinking, there has got to be more to their story.

Unfortunately, there isn’t.

Aaah! Now I know why I can’t cry. . . The source of the criticism is not fit to erase my chalkboard let alone read what I write on it.

Bwahahahahahahahahahaha!

bwuahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
i laugh with u
am going thru something similar right now
i know i should be pissed
my head tells me to be pissed
but the other thing thats frankly always in contest with the deciscions of my head is laughing so hard
dont ask me wat that thing is cos i really dont know
not that illd waste precious time trying to figure that out anyway
but yes am laughing with you Baby Jinx
human beings are really the funniest and down right "dumbest" of species ever!

please a toast to the folly of human race!

Baby Jinx, sorry, Sisikill.

Take a cue

Methinks Baby Jinx is a reincarnation of Sisikill. If I'm wrong, please put out that torch of conviction burning in my head. If I'm right, I only wonder why Sisikill'd be banned. The other option is she made the other personality up to say somethings she wouldn't be caught dead saying. Yikes! Oxymoron. You sha grab.

As to the thread, Baby Jinx, I think you probably gave that guy that much leeway cuz you already had a high regard of him. I bet you wouldn't give him that much attention if he was a regular G. I. Joe. And I think you are a wonderful writer (I believe in First impressions). I like the way I feel initiated when you pass off inuendoes that aren't so obvious. (what's wrong with me today, ever heard of an obvious innuendo?). Anyway you are delightful. I'm something of a writer too. It's my calling sorta. But I believe to be a good writer, you need to have gone through life some. I'm only 22 and don't know jack. I'm doing a masters programme (My dad thinks that the 'way to go' and I think that way I won't be afflicted with the "labour market wahala' at least for one more year) I really don't dig engineering any more. Naija offers no prospects. I wanna write. I began this journey when I had a crush on a significantly older and significantly wiser and significantly more sophisticated chic when I was in SS1. I began writing poems. I still kept some of them and have been tweaking them for the past eight years. It was true love, you see, so the thoughts were very pure. No words like those meant. When I got to the University, I began to read out of more than a sense of duty. I joined a club and fell in love with Ludlum, Kai. My hand hurts. I'll come back tomorrow and continue. I also HAVE A LIFE even if it doesn't transcend listening to music, playing Football Manager, and sleeping. It's still A LIFE. In the case that I'm getting boring, please tell me to stop while I can, nah, Bleep it! This is the thread where everything goes and the rules are no rules and Sisikill doesn't recycle!

@ Bluespice
Oh my twin!!


@ Vesc

LMAO! Oh Yeah I gave him too much leeway because I held him in high regard (Gah! What was I thinking?) and that's why Baby Jinx is here today.

By the way, Vesc. . . will you e-marry me? 

I know I said I'd come back tomorrow but I just couldn't contain myself. So this culprit is Some Egomaniac Under Nairaland? I'm sorry, that was the best I could do on short notice. Last millisecond I checked there were 251951 nairaland members. I'm pretty sure there exist about a fifth of that number. The excess can be accounted for by the banned and re-registered members. Nice going Some Egomaniac Under Nairaland, great business ethics! Me, I do not care to get banned, so usually have the good sense to steer clear of Some Egomaniac Under Nairaland. Very clumsy huh? I love the sound of it though. Some Egomaniac Under Nairaland.

I'm sure you'd withdraw that offer once you get to know me, maybe you won't, maybe you will. Are those lashes still batting? I'll think about it? 

Clears throat and tries to fit ass in the ass impression made on the sofa.

, I fell in love with Ludlum. Forsyth. Clancy. In short the genre of espionage. Recently I'm wandering into the literary greats' collection. I'm doing more of the classics now. Just to get in touch with my writer spirit. My main problem now is I cannot remain on track. I know many experienced authors will say that I'd best let my self go and all that. Bull! When I let myself go I find myself in oblivion. I need a partner, is what I need. So baby jinx what do you think about a collabo?

Meanwhile if you finally get around to PM me, I'd send you some of my works. Doesn't need priming or professional advice cuz it's of only sentimental value to me. The ones I'd need comments on, I'll tell you. But that all remains to be seen, doesn't it? I'm a patient bloke. So maybe you'll PM before the World Cup. I won't be missing that.

. . .  i hereby declare by the authority vested on me,
Baby jinx _{[size=4pt]aka sisikill [/size]} and Vesucci man and wife

Baby jink please tell u have some more for us

So, i am back - smiling actually this is a smirk not a smile
aiite ill tell u why this is important,
ok, i smile actually laugh a lot emphasis on lot
but this is only when im with my friends or in my multimedia class
hence bluespice sitting down smiling means one of a few things-
she just perfected a great scene in her head for the next murder story she's about to write
she just thought of how best to slooooowly kill a certain person
a baby just passed,
she just heard another pathetic story of a fool in love. . .
u get where im heading i'm sure
anyway its neither of the aforementioned reasons
its cos im actively involved in a game of manipulate-me-i-laugh
u ever been in a situation where someone is basking in the thought of having u wrapped around the lil finger or being so easy to be manipulated,
when in the real sense of it u are the one doing the whole job!
well, welcome to my world!
ok that apart, ever wonder why human beings are really so gullble?
i mean my dog u give him a piece of meat but he hesitates for just a while even if its a minisucle of a second he waits!
humans?
no! we accept everything we hear, see even imagine! to be real
i mean which other species can convince itself of a lie so much that it can pass a polygraph test when questioned on that lieok,
i know its pushing the limits comparing humans with animals that cant speak our! own language
but just imagine,
try to place them in suc a situation u know they will not act that way!

ok im not entirely sure if anyone will understand wat i have said it might be wisdom too advanced for us
or just the workings of a very very tired brain
either way,
a toast to the gullibility of men!
and when i say men not males
a whole epistle is coming soon on them. . .
oh how i love talking of men . . . . . .

Ever heard a true "ghost-in-the machine" story? I have. It happened to me in fact.

I bought my first laptop in last year, right after NYSC. I actually had to save like a miser in order to complete the money. Anyway, I finally got the money ready - forty-five miserly grand (in naira, of course ) - and I bought the laptop. It was an IBM Thinkpad. You know those laptops that have a knob in the middle of keyboard (instead of a finger touchpad)? Right, that was the type of system I had. And I luuuuved it, God knows I did. In fact, it turned me into a sort of software rat - java compliers, java builders, fast-download softwares, compatibility suites/programs, games - you name it, I wanted to get everything into that square piece of plastic contraption. In the end, the whole thing back-fired. My laptop developed a mind, nay, a ghost of its own. I know the cliche is well-worn and all, but it's the only way of aptly describing what happened: I raised a ghost in my IBM machine.

I think the last straw (or rather the last blow to the IBM coffin which raised the ghost) was the day I tried to install the sixth (consecutive) upgrade to my Windows XP op. system. I think it was the sixth, I'm not sure anymore, might have been more. Anyway, I got done upgrading the baby, restarted the machine and found out that my "Stand by" icon (from "Start'" had become inactive. Dead as a door-nail, if you please, but that was it. I tried every computing and configuring gimmick I knew, but the dead icon remained dead. But it didn't end there. Some icons simply disappered, others brought up an entirely different menu when clicked, and of course good, old "Stand by" remained dead. In the end, I just freaked out.

Now, I don't scare easy, see? I admit that after three grueling days of battling with my IBM, the fatigue had begun impress upon my crocodile-thick composure. But that hardly enough reason to start having morbid, "ghost" thoughts. What really undid me was when my girlfriend started saying laptop was infected with a "Stand-by" ghost. She actually called it that - the Stand-by ghost. You can't imagine the effect that had on me. And she kept on saying it all the time. Actually, I think it was because I'd had very little time for her since the IBM got "sick", but that hardly justifies what she did. Well, at last I had to agreed with her; I had a Stand-by ghost in my IBM machine.

I have a new laptop now. The IBM is back at Onitsha with my parents - somewhere under the loads of books I used in secondary school. I think the Stand-by ghost is still there, too.