I would really like to know which of these three categories of humans you fall under.
1)Those who read the manual.
1)
2)Those who don’t read the manual (I belong here)
3)Those who create their own manual.
How does someone create their own manual. Wouldn’t it be wise to follow the specifications from the manufacturer since the he/she knows best? Well, I believe creating your own manual is the best route.
I believe saviour’s complex is the emotional need to act as a saviour to someone. Sometimes, such a person actually needs us and other times, the ‘saviour’ makes up a need in the life of the person. I believe saviour’s complex is the emotional need to act as a saviour to someone. Sometimes, such a person actually needs us and other times, the ‘saviour’ makes up a need in the life of the person.
You would think that after I discovered my inability to become a global superhero through breathing exercises that I would abandon my idea of saving someone. No! I decided to become a local champion.
I used to think Poetry was a way of saying something profound in a coded way. Anyone who could decipher the real meaning of a poem had to be a genius.
By the time I left secondary school, my idea of poetry included any high sounding (intellectual) thing in verse form that rhymed and employed some unusual figure of speech.
But real poetry outside the four walls of an outdated educational system is much different. Much more fluid.
Some of them are original and some of them deserve to be flushed to minus land because I don’t know what will posses you to say that someone is the “Cockroach in your cupboard.”
Telling me that I’m the only sugar in your tea, I pause and think and remember that sugar dissolves in tea and what does tea mean to you? Do you even like tea? I mean, people take tea without sugar. Maybe, I’m overthinking this thing but I think lovers should do better by paying original compliments to their lovers.
Perhaps, this was the sort of the people in the country that Buhari saw and decided to proclaim all Nigerians Youths as Lazy. I would concede but these men do not even make up a significant fraction of Nigerian Youth
Hello,
I know I haven’t been writing for a while and I want you to know why. Yes, I am still alive. Very much so. This is going to be a long letter and I would encourage you to read to the very end before you make any comments.
This was the best Jollof rice she had ever cooked. She glanced at the three plates of red Jollof rice, fried plantain and big chicken laps. Cold cups of fanta and a big bowl of iced fruits would compliment the meal. They often ordered their food from a restaurant. Joseph said he didn’t trust her…
Joseph kissed his dead wife’s frame before he bent over Aduke. Aduke shut her eyes, hoping that he would kiss her. His hot breath fanned her face. “I know you’re awake.” Aduke drew in a breath. She wished mama had told her that she was marrying a grieving widower. “Do you even love me?” “Go…
Aduke’s eyes surveyed the bungalows. Mama hadn’t specified which one belonged to her family. She pulled her box into the compound, gawking at the naked boy running in circles. “Michael!” She screamed, hoping she got the boy’s name right. He kept at his play, laughing.“I’m not Michael.” She grabbed his slim dark arm. Her eyes darted between the bungalows “Where is your house?” The…
I’m jealous of your wine shirt. that hugs your chest like tomorrow will never come. That kisses the nape of your neck and hangs on to your muscled arms. It has the privilege of lying on my dream pillow I’m jealous of your blue slippers that holds the feet I crave to kiss. They protect…
