TalkBlog

I enjoy reading, but I struggle with writing. Writing feels conflicting because it asks me to be honest in ways I am not always ready for. Some of the things I write embarrass me. I think they expose thoughts I would rather keep hidden. And I think writing makes them permanent; this is because I worry too much. I imagine someone reading them someday and being shocked by how dark and twisted parts of me can sound. I worry about that future reader.  I worry about myself. I am going through what feels like one of the hardest things I have ever done. Close people know I am struggling, but they do not know the full extent of it. They can see that I am not butterflies and rainbows, but they do not know how much of my joy is performed. I smile and hope that one day I will grow into the happiness I am pretending to feel. There was a time not long ago when I almost slipped into a deep depressive episode. I could feel myself descending, very fast, like I was in quicksand. I wanted to hold on...

  Have you ever crossed paths with someone and felt an inexplicable connection? It's an experience often attributed to the Red String Theory, a captivating idea that proposes soulmates are connected by an invisible red cord. I recently came across the Red String Theory on tik tok, and I have been hyper-fixated on it.   The Red String theory is a Chinese legend that suggests that two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of place, time, or circumstances. it tells us that this thread may stretch due to distance and tangle up due to circumstance; but in the end, the hands of fate eventually reunite these two people.           As a self-professed hopeless romantic, I have heard a lot about the concept of soulmates, that there is someone out there who fits you perfectly, the ying to your yang. You would hear stories of Lovers who passed by each other for years before suddenly seeing past the covering cast, and we ...

--- Hey there, Popsicles! Today, I'm opening up about something weighing on my mind for a while now. it seems I can see it lurking in the shadows of my life like an uninvited guest at a party - the feeling of being an imposter in my own life.  You know that moment when you finally start to relax because everything seems to be going your way? Well, I barely get on that feeling for a solid 3 hours at a stretch; you know why? because there's no peace for me in this world. The moment I decide to curl up with a warm sock, a cold glass of yogurt, and my favorite book.  that's exactly when life decides to throw me a curveball. And me? Well, I decided to just stay delusional, I mean Staying Delulu is the Solulu  I've never been that person who juggles life like a pro, matter of fact if there's an award for people who suck at multitasking I would soar through and beat records. (now I imagine myself smiling like Simone Biles holding up medals) well in reality I probably would...

  T oday I write because I have made a pact to turn in two pieces each week. Knowing me, I would say that's not at all sustainable. But today I would sit pretty and channel my violent tendencies onto my laptop. At least it would only highlight my mistakes in red instead of flat-out saying I'm saying nonsense. I write because, in this form, I don't hear the voice questioning everything I say or telling me what to do. I have imagined love; I have aspired to love (maybe marriage); or so I thought, as long as my memory could permit me. You know those 5-tier cakes with those stairways and the bride and groom? The messy order of photographs had the emcees going on and on about the list of people, the couple had to take photos with. And hell, it was chaotic, but it's me; I live for chaos. All I knew at 4 was the beautiful dress that the lovely aunties had to wear, and then the smoky, tasty jollof and beef waiting for me after. With the way we were training with the husband...

Everyday it’s a battle with self; Today the anxiety wraps around    me like a glove. There’s a swelling in my throat and a tightness in my chest, I keep telling myself to take a breather. But I feel like I’m under water, I’m submerged in the ocean of my thoughts. I’m fighting back the tears but some teardrops find their way through the barricades to my eyes.  The World is here to see a show,let’s give them one worth watching  🧶

  Maybe I’m supposed to figure out this whole maze called life alone? Or maybe I could just opt out (un-alive myself). Today I am furiously tapping on my keypads because the emotions I feel are anger, betrayal, disappointment, and pain, will you call me entitled for holding people by their very words? Am I the asshole for expecting some form of integrity? Well, I’ve been quiet here basically for a ton of reasons, the wall of cards I built and called my life scattered at the very gust of the whirlwind, some pieces went never to return again, and every time I try to write about it theirs the battle of emotions and waterworks. Maybe putting this out would do someone some good, I have no idea what it is supposed to do but here it goes. I came across this old photo on Snapchat and the caption was indeed true “No matter how horrible the worse feeling is, there’s going to be another one which is even worse and you don’t know about it yet” I was probably going through a rough patch whe...

These days I have so much to say but most times I just stay at the blinking cursor, is it writer’s block, I have no words to trap and put down; they’re flying free like birds outside the Sydney museum. It’s definitely not joy that I feel down in me, this is intense pain it's swelling up inside of me and I’ve not been drinking yeast.           A mad professor told me once “I think it’s funny that you expect people to treat you the way you treat them” (inserts Joker laughter) life isn’t a fairytale your fairy godmother won’t appear one day and “hipity bipity boop” away all your pains you would face it and you would face most of it alone.  I feel we are going through similar struggles and so we should try making things easier for each other. It's rather disgusting to see broken people break other people ; but this is becoming a norm. 2019? We go buy benzzzzzzzzzz! Lol, you didn’t tell me I would see shege, you didn’t tell me I would f...

Today boredom brought back some nostalgic feelings, yeah, and today I’ll be talking about my horrible dates I know they may not beat your stories but they sure left me with this gut feeling in my throat. I’m going to change the names of these characters so I can save them and hope they change when you probably meet them its Calabar by the way most men here are definitely recycled( that’s if you’re in the city; and drop that silly idea I barely go out., as matter of  fact I’m a couch potato who complains about being bored and most times makes no move whatsoever to save myself and I have bad luck with guys) I'd tag the guys as Specimen A, B, and so on( sorry if I seem sexist) but these were my white rats, but I wasn't inducing them with Asthma.(Apologies; it's 2019 all jokes are sensitive) So specimen A I didn’t plan to meet the human being but sometimes my love for food lands me in the weirdest situation "HND" says food would kill me someday and I no l...

Who needs Dopamine transmission? being with you does the trick- anon On Loving the stethoscope… When I took the plunge I had no idea what the water currents felt like, if there’s one major decision which put me at crossroads of should I or shouldn’t i. It was the decision to date HND. What I know for sure is that after the first month or so everything changes, you get to be around this person more often and you get really comfortable around this person. I was quite comfortable at the beginning anyway but I obviously had my reservations, I remember this evening he was walking me down to where I can board a car; it was dark (thanks to the children of the underworld who stole solar panels for the university street lights) well if you know me well you’d know seeing well in the dark is an extreme sport for me most times I would walk right into a puddle before I realize. Well, he had seen a gutter ahead and offered to hold my hands to cross over in my stubbornness I told him “no...

Time after time I always envisaged the day I’d find love in a coffee shop, so I had a lot of coffee and a caffeine addiction. So I sat in coffee shops reading novels while sipping on my hot creamy coffee hoping that one day “love” would bump into me spilling my coffee on my “Sefi Attah” and I would bend over to rescue my book drowning in the small puddle of creamy coffee, and maybe like those western movies he would be a perfect gentleman who would get to it before I do and apologise profusely and maybe offer to buy me another cup. Or perhaps I felt “Love”  would sit at the other end of the coffee shop taking quick glances at my book cover and ask out of curiosity why I choose to read Mario Puzo’s “ The Godfather” or Sun Tzu’s “ art of war” and probably tell me how he finds it intriguing that I make such book choices. After a long debate on God knows what I’d remember I have to get to a meeting and I could rush out leaving him with no contacts, but its “ Love” anyway. He wo...

Its 3:52am, I’m having those nights all over ( you know those nights when you get up and then going back to bed is so difficult) yes those nights. I’ve been up since about 2:26am because my roommate took my duvet all to herself and the weather is awfully cold but we make sacrifices for those we care about right?                                      So this is me and my huge glasses, a sweat jacket alongside socks covering my awfully cold feet, and the cravings for potato chips and Coca-Cola(I almost started frying my own sweet potatoes at this time but ). Plugged in headphones on the highest volume so I can't hear the raindrops but I guess they find their way to bother me, I mumbling to the chorus of  Jon Bellion's “the good in me” from his album The Human condition my best followed by Growth Your heart's a vine that I've bled trying to climb Yeah, you're making a ruin of me Tr...

5 senses All five senses are screaming nonsense, They are aggravated because you swept them off baby, You could have been discreet, But my eyeballs keep rolling, In your direction, Because your walk is alluring. You could have raised the tone, But your baritone delivered my ears from noise, And relieved it with your very own inspired song, No wonder you are claimed as 1derful. Now, my, Taste buds couldn't acknowledge you, There are already weaken by your tongue, You indeed master your words and the desserts they serve, Making my tummy rejoice without ever tasting. And hmmm, How you smell good! Nah, this might be a lie, Never have I come close to your natural scent, But the pleasentness you give to the rest of my senses is your pass. Touch, That's right, you have that touch, That only endurant souls  simultaneously leave and hold. My 5 senses are on the edge, As you keep "em interested, Captive, they are, Still screaming nonsense, Who c...

Growing up as only child has giving me a rare view of life, I’ve been constantly tagged with the only child syndrome with this tag which is somewhat overwhelming most times.  Just to correct the notion I don’t think any child decides to be an only child really, we should stop that. I’m an only child and aside growing up without siblings I don’t think I’m less of a human being than people with siblings. I never personally chose my status as an only child. The feeling that comes with being an only child could be somewhat contradictory at some points, one minute I’m excited about the new video game my dad bought for me and the next I feel bad because I’ve seen the game is fun in a two player mode, one moment I’m excited about my big box of clothes and the next I wonder what it would have felt like if I had  senior sister to give me hand-me-downs or a younger sister who would constantly borrow my clothes and wear them when they feel I’ve forgotten. This roller-coaster f...

so got some E-mails bout my recent silence well basically lets say before an artist goes on tour she sources for inspiration now back to my Article on Markets here in Calabar. Well my last trip  to Marian Market was epic, Nigerian markets are full of vibe there's never a dull moment, I was dropped off at the unity bank just opposite the market then i saw Children and Women running after two "Big Chicks" chanting the well known Nigerian phrase (Ashewo: just what we call Whores over here) well the crowd chased this two girls for a considerable distance. Then i asked a trader the reason and she just pointed out the fact that they wore clothes that were transparent without Underwear :).  Then back to my tour There's  an overhead bridge for the feeble minded pedestrians ( Better safe than sorry) Okay Coming down you see like a car park just there This work of art Caught my attention though had to go Closer to get a better shot Note calabar is full of many Scul...