Pardon my randomness

If you saw my last post, you’d catch my drift. So this isn’t turning out like I expected and I’m not finding it funny. 😐

Challenge 1: Consider what you want to accomplish with your blog. Write down three concrete goals you want to achieve.

I have nothing to write. No goals. Nothing I want to accomplish here that is SMART (you know, the whole specific, measurable  …. thingy). You see, all I really want to do is write. About me. The world I live in. The people around me. What I make on them all. And most importantly, find inner peace.

I’m constantly at war with myself. Living right or not. Living in the moment or not. Forging ahead or falling by the way side… It’s endless.

It’d be nice to  write:


  • Gain 20% more followers by October 15th and increase my average daily hits 30% by December 31st.
  • Publish three times each week during April, May, and June.
  • Establish a new weekly feature on my blog by April 30th (Throwback Thursdays, Wordless Wednesdays, Soup Sundays), and publish that feature each week through June 30th.

I want none of those.

Writing – even when it’s a dead end and makes no sense – is like music to my soul. It just kinda liberates me and that’s what all of this is about. It’s writing ’cause I feel like it. ‘Cause it makes me hold on to something in the depth of my sadness – or happiness. ‘Cause it sometimes reaches out to someone else. ‘Cause it bares my soul…

So my goals – random as they may seem:

  • Learn to breathe – through and through. {This MIGHT mean refraining from posting mishaps I encountered to posting happy activities and steps I’m taking to attain halcyon: adventures, relationships, who knows :) }
  • Establish a new feature on my blog. {Talking about me all the time could get narcissistic? }
  • Spend time visiting  blogs I love, reading their stuff and commenting on their work – Spice is life.

Phew! That’s it.

Once more, pardon my randomness.


If things get weird around here, I apologize in advance.

I signed up for WordPress’ Blogging University – just because. It’s a 14-day challenge titled Blogging 201: Branding, Growth, and Traffic. It’s supposed to help me define my blog’s brand, make sure I post effectively and consistently, make the most of my existing posts among other things. That’s hardly why I signed up.

I think  for the next fourteen days random topics are gonna be thrown at me and I’m supposed to work and unleash the creative genius in my inner mind to make a good post – I really do hope that’s what it is, ’cause that’s why I signed up.

I’m too much of a planned individual, I thought a little spontaneity would do me good, so, understand if my posts for the next two weeks have no bearing, are as boring as I am or just make no sense at all.

It’s for the greater good – so to speak

A series of unfortunate events


It’s was the period after break. I was in SS2. Someone hit the table in the rhythm every QC girl knows, to usher the teacher in.
“Good AAAAAfternoon ma!” we all chanted. To which she replied “Bring out your new practical English textbook and open to chapter  ‘x’”.

I do not remember the chapter now.

“Let somebody read to us”

Odunola began.

“May your roads be rough…..”

There was a pandemonium as we all shouted “God forbid!”


April 2014

Thirty minutes ago

I walked with steady strides oblivious of the happenings around me, clutching my nylon to my chest like my life depended on it. Horns blaring, bikes swerving, people cursing. It was too short a distance from the bus stop  to my house to have all this fiasco, I thought. But I didn’t care much. I had been numbed. Momentarily. Till I found a safe place to break – My dad’s room.

Last week

I had realized that my seat of dissatisfaction lay in my lack of activity. I made a list of interests and promised I’d pursue them, one after another. It was photography this month. I bought a camera.

One hour ago

I boarded my last bus home. I was on the seat next to the open door where the conductor hung – in the typical Lagos way. I had my handbag, a nylon containing my newly acquired camera and an umbrella, all on my lap. The conductor, with his armpit over my head, asks for my fare. I reach into my bag to get my wallet out to pay, and somewhere in-between avoiding his under arm and getting the money out; the driver swerves and his sharp turn sent my nylon flying in the opposite direction, outside the bus. It was seemingly a short moment between when it fell out and when I got the conductor to run back to get it, but in that little moment, tires had run over it. Tires had crushed my camera.

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Twenty minutes ago

I rushed into my dad’s room and I broke down. They weren’t tears streaming down silently, they were deep racking unending sobs from a soul that’s known to much grief in the last seven weeks. It just went on and on, and my dad – amongst other things – said: “It’s life, things always happen, you have to learn to bear it” (How does anyone even learn that ?!)


I’m learning that my roads might have to be rough.
I’m also learning that halcyon and breathing might be a long way off.

“Man is disturbed not by things, but by the views he takes of them”- Epictetus