Mad, black single female

You know how it always seems like a good idea to get over last person you were in a relationship with using (for lack of a better word) the next person you meet but it never works out quite that way? I think the English dictionary calls it rebound.
You always feel like it's gonna work this time, and you're always wrong.

You always end up in a lose-lose situation, you don't get over the last person you were with and you're unable to move forward or to have anything meaningful with the next person.
You start something you can't finish and then crawl outta the rink looking out for respite.
Yeah well, if madness is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result then i'm as crazy as Aro full of loonies.

Legend of the seeker

A lot is said of how hate, malice and grudges are a dead weight to live with and carry around but not enough is said about The Guilty Conscience. Another dead weight that eats at you slowly yet constantly until there's nothing left of your soul. Secrets are the feeders for the guilty conscience but on the other hand who do confessions benefit?
The confessor? Who feels horrible for being the exposer of the secrets that could scar the other person (confessee) probably for the rest of their life. How would he/she ever sleep again? Could they ever be at peace with themselves again knowing the pain they've revealed? Would the confessor not be filled with constant regret over this? Then again getting it off your chest could be a big relief, not wondering what would happen if/when the truth gets out.
Or the Confessee? Who hears a truth they were hitherto unaware of- ergo living in the bliss of ignorance- and consequently their life, heart and soul is forever scarred by the hurt, pain and/or betrayal of the revealed. Is it not true that what you don't know doesn't hurt you? On the contrary, though, all the doubts are removed by revelation and you are able to deal and move on.
So my question is this: are confessions overrated?

To me. On my birthday.

Now this is a song I love to pieces and Most of the words reflect how I feel. This is apt especially on this day. My birthday. I love me and I know I am not a perfect person even if I am as close as it gets (wink wink) but as much as I try (and hope) to improve on this person, I cannot apologize for who I am. C'mon who is perfect, Really?
Brandy Camouflage 
I´m a work in progress
I´m a seed growin' into a flower
I´m a storm that´s rising
I'm getting stronger with every hour
And God knows I ain´t perfect
Tell me who in the world is
All I know is that I´m searchin
For somebody to love me with

These flaws I´ve got
There apart of who I am
Take me or not
But I finally understand
I´m so done trynna to be
everything you want
And I had to stop
Cause baby you ain´t worth it
if I gotta Camouflage
For love, for love
No I won't Camouflage
For love, for love
I won't Camouflage

I need a lot of improvement
Not even half way to destiny
But I´m a train that´s moving
And everyday I´m picking up speed
And God knows you ain´t perfect
So who are you to put pressure on me
that´s why I´m still searchin
For somebody to love me with

These flaws I´ve got
They're apart of who I am
Take me or not
but I finally understand
And I´m so done trynna to be
everything you want 
cause I had to stop
Because baby you ain´t worth it
if I gotta Camouflage
For love, for love
No I won't Camouflage
For love, for love
I won't Camouflage

I´ve learned from my mistakes
The only way you´re gonna be happy
Is if someone's down to take
you when it´s good and
it´s bad you see
I tried giving half of me
In the end I came up empty
And that´s why I´m searching yeah
For somebody to love me
with these flaws

These flaws I´ve got
There apart of who I am
Take me or not
But I finally understand
I´m so done tryna to be
everything you want
And I had to stop
Because baby you ain´t worth it
if I gotta to Camouflage
These flaws I´ve got
There apart of who I am
Take me or not
But I finally understand
I´m so done trying to be
everything you want
And I had to stop
Because baby you ain´t worth it
if I gotta to Camouflage
For love, for love
No I won't Camouflage
For love, for love
I won't Camouflage

If I gotta Camouflage

Cause baby you ain´t worth it
If I gotta camouflage
Baby you ain't worth it
If I gotta Camouflage


Disclaimer: this is not a cry for help or love and it's words do not 100 percent reflect how i feel, but you get the drift, Innit?

Stuff only dreams are made of

The car comes to a halt in front of my office just as i step out of the double glass doors. I can't see anyone through the tinted windows and i can't help but wonder who it could be. Not until you step out, then all my wondering is brought to an abrupt halt, there's a big smile on my face and you can tell that I'm glad to see you. You walk up to me with a smile on your face and that look in your eyes, the look that churns my insides. i recognize the Calvin Klein scent that always precedes you. Your finely tailored Armani suit rests perfectly on you, beneath it your immaculately white well-pressed shirt. All these are lost on me as you get to me and hold my hands to your chest, look deep into my eyes and ask me to do you the honour of taking your last name and spending the rest of my life with you. I stare at you shell-shocked until....

Just saying...

They say "crime doesn't pay", does that mean my job is a crime?

Darn Vegas!

So a few days ago I took a chance and did something...well, crazy beautiful. I dunno why or even care, neither do I care about the aftermath. The only thing I wonder at is how crazy I can be...:). I took a chance, let go of my cares and fears and did something I otherwise would never ever have ever thought of doing. I might never do it again but I did it and a part of me is glad. A part of me is still waiting for the storm to come, but i anticipate it bravely with gusto and my head held high. I am glad I will not have to spend the rest of my life wondering what woulda happened if I had taken the chance and ran with it. Whatever the case. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, so Shhhhh......

I dunno but somehow this song seems apropos

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,
but what if it don't
What happens in my head, stays in my head,
but sometimes it won't
What if you knew what I was thinkin',
would it make you like WOAH,
I don't wanna risk, putting my foot in this,
so I keep my mouth closed
All you hear is...

(mmm mm mmm mm mm)
Can I button my lip so the truth don't slip?
(mmm mm mmm mm mm)
Gotta bleep out what I really wanna shout
Whoops!,
Did I say out loud, did you find out?!
I want to have your babies,
Get serious like crazy
I want to have your babies,
I see 'em springing up like daisies

Some of my feelings keep escapin',
so I make it a joke
Non chalant I keep on faking,
so my heart don't get broke
I'm in a big big big big ocean, in a tiny little boat
I'm known to put the idea out there,
if I know it's gonna float
All you hear is...

(mmm mm mmm mm mm)
Can I button my lip so the truth don't slip?
(mmm mm mmm mm mm)
Gotta bleep out what I really wanna shout
Whoops!,
Did I say out loud, did you find out?!
I want to have your babies,
Get serious like crazy
I want to have your babies,
I see 'em springing up like daisies

Cause in my head there's a slot machine,
and I'm betting your the one in my hopes and dreams
Trust me it would scare you if you knew what was going on in my brain
Trust me it would scare you that I picked the church, or their school, or their names
If you knew it was all about you,
every wish, every candle, every coin in the fountain
Trust me it'd scare you
That's why I go

(mmm mm mmm mm mm)
Yeah, Oh Yeah

(mmm mm mmm mm mm)
Can I button my lip so the truth don't slip?
(mmm mm mmm mm mm)
Gotta bleep out what I really wanna shout
Whoops!,
Did I say out loud, did you find out?! (yeah)
I want to have your babies,
Get serious like crazy
I want to have your babies,
I see 'em springing up like daisies


....Or something like it... *grinning like a Cheshire cat*

My manic Mondays

Growing up, I used to love Mondays so so much. People may wonder how or why. I'll tell you.
Well, it was like this. I had a very strict Dad who was also a workaholic (throughout all his years working in a government establishment, he never took a day off, not even for a sick leave) which was really good for us kids. When the cat is away, the mice kids will play (read: lounge, relax and flex). That was how Mondays came to be my favourite day of the week and Saturdays my worst (aside that my Dad would be home on Saturdays, they were usually house cleaning days).
In the days i left the house for campus, Mondays were not necessarily my favourite days but they definitely were not my worst. Sometimes i actually used to look forward to Mondays, because it was a time to actually show off my new baffs or see some classmates and talk about the parties that happened over the weekend or preparing for the shows coming up that week. Depending on the greatness/newness of my outfit, I was pretty cool with Mondays. All in all i guess i loved all days equally.
When my Dad retired, i became indifferent about all days, they were all the same to me cos the Big cat used to go out or travel only when he needed to and that could be any day of any given week.
Now when i started to work, i didn't love Mondays as much anymore but i know i didn't hate it. In the first days of the job, i loved my job so much. I was working in an organisation i said i wanted to work in, although in an entirely different capacity than i anticipated but whattheheck! I used to love my job so much I'd go to work on Saturdays and sometimes on Sundays after church too. So Mondays were okay by me. In fact when i heard people complain about Mondays i used to feel sorry for them, until recently
Two Sundays ago, i couldn't believe how much i was dreading the day to end and hoping for Monday to not come. You see, it has never been like this for me and it got me thinking....Am i getting bored with work? Do i hate my job? Am i getting frustrated? is it just my job or Lagos in general? Either ways, i don't like the feeling and i sure as anything do not want it. So again  i pray:
Dear God,
Please don't let me turn into one of those people who write poems, songs or books and even build entire worlds of philosophy on how much they hate Mondays. I might not love it as much as Saturdays now, please put the spark back in my Mondays. Rekindle our love life, me and Mondays. In any case Lord, let me be at least okay with it. Thank You in advance.
xx