Relationships. With God, with family, with friends. In the end that’s all that really matters. We come with nothing but we leave with a lifetime of memories. So I put pen to paper in self examination. How many lives have I touched? How many people have I inspired? How many people will attend my funeral? How many will genuinely miss me? In life’s journey I have picked up jewels as well as pebbles. I am passionately loved and deeply despised, still struggling in the battlefield of my mind. Am I called bitter and resentful or happy and enthusiastic? Is life one big party or a pilgrimage. If love is mainly an emotion then how can I love my enemies? No, it’s an act of will, a determination to do the right thing in spite of your emotions. Yet love comes in different shades, my love for my parents differs from my love for my siblings still yet, my love for God. Does God still wrestle with man? Answer, he still wrestles with me in a match I pray to lose.

What epitaph will be written of me? How will the world of spirits welcome me? Will I elevate to the world above or will my sins make me sink to the world below. So many questions, so few answers. A friend of mine is a revolutionary; he has big dreams of changing the world. I face a tougher task, changing myself. I sit at my desk surrounded by the great dead. Writers who have gone on before me. C.s Lewis makes me think, P.G Wodehouse makes me laugh, George Herbert’s words are really deep and Robert Frost is truly rich. J.R.R Tolkien takes me on an adventure and Jean Plaidly brings me home. Writers too many to mention, words too deep to forget. I am Aslan333, a writer, a poet, a friend. A father, a son, a husband, a brother, a child. As I sit at my desk meditating on this drama called life I am reminded that it’s all about relationships, with God, with family, with friends because in the end that’s all that really matters.

aslan333:

Relationships. With God, with family, with friends. In the end that’s all that really matters. We come with nothing but we leave with a lifetime of memories. So I put pen to paper in self examination. How many lives have I touched? How many people have I inspired? How many people will attend my funeral? How many will genuinely miss me? In life’s journey I have picked up jewels as well as pebbles. I am passionately loved and deeply despised, still struggling in the battlefield of my mind. Am I called bitter and resentful or happy and enthusiastic? Is life one big party or a pilgrimage. If love is mainly an emotion then how can I love my enemies? No, it’s an act of will, a determination to do the right thing in spite of your emotions. Yet love comes in different shades, my love for my parents differs from my love for my siblings still yet, my love for God. Does God still wrestle with man? Answer, he still wrestles with me in a match I pray to lose.

What epitaph will be written of me? How will the world of spirits welcome me? Will I elevate to the world above or will my sins make me sink to the world below. So many questions, so few answers. A friend of mine is a revolutionary; he has big dreams of changing the world. I face a tougher task, changing myself. I sit at my desk surrounded by the great dead. Writers who have gone on before me. C.s Lewis makes me think, P.G Wodehouse makes me laugh, George Herbert’s words are really deep and Robert Frost is truly rich. J.R.R Tolkien takes me on an adventure and Jean Plaidly brings me home. Writers too many to mention, words too deep to forget. I am Aslan333, a writer, a poet, a friend. A father, a son, a husband, a brother, a child. As I sit at my desk meditating on this drama called life I am reminded that it’s all about relationships, with God, with family, with friends because in the end that’s all that really matters.

Nice inspiration my brother! But please, stop worrying about those that will attend your funeral. It adds no true real value to a life that has expired! Think of those you will positively affect their lives! Include your enemies as those that matters and try to have peace with them

point noted but your looking at it from the wrong angle. consider those who would bother to pay their last respects at your funeral and you will know people you shoul build stronger ties with and not waste time on fair weather friends, i.e picking up jewels as well as pebbles in lifes journey. try reading "man in the mirror" by Pat Morley its a good book.

I am the Janus-faced man. Hiding my pain with smiles; living in silent despair. Still I ask, “How does one forget the pains of yesterday when he still feels them today? I am trying so hard to not dwell on past mistakes, future consequences; struggling to escape the darkness but getting burnt by those in the light. I cry out to you my Lord, my friend. My strength is all but gone; my feet are on slippery ground. These are my words, my cry. These are my tears, this is my pain. This is my addiction, am pouring out my heart. I have warmed your pews on Sunday and broken your rules on Monday. My way has brought so many pains; brought her grief. Here is my confession, the road to your forgiveness.

My words like a hammer shattered an already fragile heart and my heart ached within me as tears welled up in her eyes. As I watched I said to myself, never again. Never will I break another’s heart so, never will I feign love where there is no inner glow. As I watched her walk away I made a silent prayer of forgiveness not only from her but all those before her. Never was it my intention to hurt her so but I was ill advised by friends and driven by lust. Lust oh lust what a cruel taskmaster you have been. How I wish you could be conquered in my loins, how I wish you could be tamed. I pray she learns to forgive me, I pray her wounds heal; I pray she finds another, I pray this time his love is real. I walk silently to my house with a heavy heart reminiscing on a tough year. I dwell on pains I have caused and others I have received; of a lady I tricked and a friend who left me deceived. Alas I am alone again just as I was at the beginning but this time I search no longer, instead I embrace loneliness as a long lost friend, trying to rediscover the path to righteousness. For I know that with the eyes that saw women as prey began this road to shame. I have degenerated into all I loathe, becoming the shatterer of hearts and breaker of oaths. I beat my chest as tears begin to flow, that I can cause another pain so? That I can be the author of such emotion; such tears. No I say, never again. A woman’s heart is not to be toyed with nor is mine strong enough to bear such grief. As I walk back home I pray silently for strength to harness my tongue. I cry out “Lord give me a new song”. Not this tune where deceit marks my ways but a path where I will cause no more pain.

I hurt you deeply my Father, my God when I brought pain upon all those you hold dear. This is my confession, my repentance. On the road to forgiveness; and the start of a new day.

this rose withers in the heat of despair

Still, my heart trembled as I read your last entry. And it would have been better to hear you have moved on. All the best.

I am touched, i am moved. I love this.

Indeed we owe God much and can give him nothing, and we always seem to be out to break his heart. I love your writtings man. We pray for Mercy. And Grace. And Faith.

Nice, very candid!!!

@ myne white, frank 3.16, amazyn and shilling thanks for your coments

Days turn to months and months to years. Old friends become more precious as the hereafter draws near. I count my blessings, things money cant buy; like the look in my wife's eyes and the smile on my daughters face. Like the sunlight dancing upon a lake and sun rays beaming through my window. To love and know you are loved. I am a man not ashamed to cry. Tears of sorrow, tears of joy. Remembering the birth of a girl and the death of a boy. Memories lay trapped in my heart. Times I chased the wind and was blind to what lay before me. You.

Love conquers all, your love conquered me. You make a castle a home, a chair a throne, a heart of flesh from stone and a smile from one once so alone. Ours is an untold love tale, a never ending story where love never fails. As our bodies merge into one in passionate lovemaking our souls become entwined in a bond of friendship born of love. The offspring of our love grows before our eyes, she has your eyes, my daughter ; a bundle of joy that is mine. As my joy overflows into the pages of my diary I pen my blessings, thanking  God for his precious gifts, thanking him for you. I love you J.

If you could share how your rhema affects your daily experiences would be good.

Deep thougts you have.

The monotony of it all. Chasing the wind; searching for meaning. How do I rekindle the flame, renew desire? I walk close to the edge yet no one knows. I flirt with death yet no one sees.  What balm is there for a broken spirit? Who will help this gladiator fallen in life’s arena. Should I pray with no proof that anyone hears? Should I believe based on another mans experiences? Should I be silent when turmoil rages within? Should I smile when it is clear that I am lost? I approach the “men of God”, those who seem to have a hotline to the heavens but they portray a persona so unlike the “man from God” who chose to ride a mule instead of a horse even when the crowds screamed in adoration. Must I feign joy when questions rage within? Must I believe his love and close my eyes to so many unanswered questions. Does the punishment fit the crime, is an eternity in torment just punishment for eighty years of sin? How would we react to a human ruler who tormented his enemies in a cell, yet we so easily accept a loving Father who does so. Does he do so, or do we misunderstand his words, misinterpret his scriptures. Justice means the punishment fits the crime and it is a poor philosophical argument that would make an eternity in torment payment for eighty years of sin.

I wonder what “screwtape letters “are being written over my soul. Will this path I take draw me closer to the heavens or hurl me to the underworld? Yet I must be true to myself because on the last day I will stand alone, no preachers no family no friends. Just I and the Almighty; and my sojourn on earth will determine if that day will be one of a Father scolding his son or a Judge passing judgment. I write these words to remember, I pen my thoughts to document my spiritual growth. Like John the Baptist I am not afraid to ask “are you the one” and like Thomas I would readily admit “my Lord and my God”. Read these words aslan333 and ponder because this is your journey, this is your life.

looking forward to your book. You've got talent!

What does it mean to be Nigerian? Is it the pride of a specific geographical area or belonging to a particular tribe? Is there an ideology that binds us together or just the stubborn desire to not be torn apart? Is there anything that sets the Nigerian apart; anything that makes him unique? Can I readily give ten reasons to be proud without thinking too deep? Life is a collective journey we share together, arguing about how we came to be here and debating on where we are going. This is a new year. A time to reflect and set out with new vigor. We must pray for our nation with all our might while working hard to build our nation with all our strength. Can one man make a difference? Lost in thought I ponder over the choices to be made this year.

This year I choose to smile. To see not only the gutter but a starlit sky. To see not only the hate but the overflow of love that is mine. Not living in ignorance of the evils beneath the sun but struggling to make a difference for my little ones. I pray for strength to remove bitter roots grown deep, learning a better way of warfare and placing my sword in its sheath. For if the religious zealots hate us so, must we hate them too? Is building bridges and mending fences such an impossible thing to do? I must learn to hate the sin and not the sinner, the player and not his pawns.

This year I choose to walk. To soak in the beauty of this earth. To bask in the presence of my loved ones with joy and mirth. To watch the rhythm of the waves as I sit by the sea, to scribble down words as I enjoy the old trees breeze. I will try to renew my friendship with my pen, to take time to bond once again; as I grow into the man I want my son to meet. As I mature into the man I want my son to be. This year I pray the Lord speaks, I pray he speaks……….

“A man who’s planning a divorce sits his 7 year old daughter on his knee
My child what do you want for Christmas
And his daughter replies “love mummy”
And the great fornicator is struck to the heart
Oh Aslan333 I speak every day but you’re too “busy” to listen”

Hmmmmmmmmm a new year it is. New thoughts, new words and answered prayers. A voice so new yet so familiar. Guard me this year through the perils I must face. The enemies without and above all the enemy within
                                                           NEW YEAR SCRIBBLES

A diary of you
A diary of me
Unleashed as the auroras do,
At night for all to see.

nice

today is my birthday, the equinox day
my Lord i thank you, for keeping me safe
although at times i might seem ungrateful
although at times i might seem cold
my Lord i thank you
for ever keeping close

i close my eyes and think back
on days gone by
on how much you have blessed me
unworthy i wonder why
my Lord i thank you
for letting me see today

so if sometimes i do sin
dont be filled with wrath
for you have let me live this long
and for you i sing this simple song
my Lord i thank you,
for always being good

Ever seen a geode before?

Putting pen to paper seems harder now.  Weaving a tapestry of words while I wear a frown. Give me a reason to smile, give me courage give me hope. Give me a reason to laugh give me strength help me cope. The pressure is starting to get to me and I wonder who sees the crumbling walls. Who stretches out a helping hand? Who will standby lest I fall.

I write to remember, I write so you won’t forget. I write to show I will conquer. I write to live beyond death. Yet I am tempted to drop my pen, my one true friend.Oh Nigeria when will you leave the pages of documents and enter the minds of your inhabitants? When will man say he is Nigerian before telling us his tribe? When will the velvet revolution begin?

I sit at my desk listening to Tracy Chapman’s “matters of the heart” album and I too dream of a world. I get lost in the rhythm, I am carried away by the words. It is getting harder to write, words desert me.
                                                                                 Aslan333

@nabulea ?

Tracy Chapman hmmmmmm

I'm challenged with all your single words. What an advantageous advice u just rendered, Thanks.

Great write up!

@keyne, gabrielle and cinorita thanks

I must be a diamond because the pressure is so intense. I must have substance of gold for HIS purifying fire bathes me until my strength fails in the darkness of my troubles. Then HE sends a candle burning bright and I am drawn to its light. The light of love. There I rejoice in the simplicity of her love for me. The way her eyes light up when she sees me. The way I feel when she is near. This money can’t buy. This is most precious to me. Yet when I talk to her the words don’t always come out right. When I watch her sleep words are a poor vessel to capture such a sight. Still I pick up my pen and open my diary as the sun rays beam through my bedroom window. She opens her eyes, looks at me and smiles “you’re writing again, she says. It’s all about God, I reply. It’s all about you. The fuel that keeps my heart burning, for she is God’s gift to me, living proof of how much he loves me.

I put on the television and hear the politicians lie and I wonder at our obsession with titles, our lust for power. I am filled with grief for the country I call home. Where mediocrity is celebrated and looters feel no shame. Where “pastors” who are just motivational speakers, gather followers to themselves in the name of God. The situation seems bleak and I cry out in despair  “Lord it’s so hard” and a gentle whisper replies “I never said it would be easy”  But Lord things are so tough and he replies “this is earth not heaven, it is for a moment, don’t make it a lifetime.”

And so I guide my heart, careful to not drift away. And I build my faith lest my love waxes cold. Lest my god becomes my stomach and my glory steeped in shame. And even though my body ages my mind is renewed as I develop a disciple’s worldview, a Christian worldview.

A geode is a paradox of sorts.
Crusty without.
Royal within.
Or as you've likened: coal under pressure equates a diamond.

@ nubulae hmm ok

'We come with nothing but we leave with a lifetime of memories' - love it. Deep and melancholic.

'We come with nothing but we leave with a lifetime of memories' - love it. Deep and  melancholic.

From a Lovely Friend
From a Lovely mind
For a Lovely Reason
At a Lovely Time
In a Lovely Mood
In a Lovely Style
To wish You
HAPPY BIRTHDAY

thanks i saw your message on my fb wall

First, I must say that this is my first post (reply) on Nairaland. I usually just read and continue to read (posts). I couldn't help, but let the writer of "Dairy Of Me" know that he has done a great job in relaying his thoughts. By the way, Happy Birthday in arrears.

Heart.