MAKE IT COUNT

2011-Elections

A few sips of my favourite wine, then I was embraced by sleep. But even in that state I got to look at Nigeria, my darling country. This Nigeria looked different; I needed the sun rays to remind me that I was in Nigeria. I realized that I was involved in a system where it was only normal to smile, where happiness was knitted in the skin of everyone. Everything seemed to work, but then reality drifted in. The failed system envenomated my perfect dream, the fan stopped rolling and I felt the heat sift in, in a few minutes I was in between my dream and reality. I was actually enjoying electricity in my dream, but then I could feel the heat all over my skin. It was a very complex situation for me and I eventually woke up with a heavy sigh. If I was the matrix then I would have happily stayed in my dream world, but that’s all fictional. My soggy shirt is the least issue at the moment; I think there is a shared disillusion amongst Nigerian citizens. I have taking out time to engage in healthy arguments with a couple of Nigerians, and the joint response has been dispiriting. Most people are of the notion that Nigeria cannot be revamped, and that It will take more than an election to resuscitate the country. It’s puzzling and saddening to see that a vast majority of us have obliterated the possibility of having a perfect Nigeria. I look at the issues that we are facing presently, and I think we shouldn’t solely blame it on bad governance. I think the citizenry have been asleep for too long, perhaps we have been enthralled in our dream world, because that’s the only place we see the “perfect Nigeria”.

I was privileged to meet with Fela Durotoye sometime last year, and I immensely enjoyed what he did with his slide show. He tried to represent how far certain countries had come in the past 30 years, and the pictures were taking from an aerial point. Sincerely, there has been no change in Nigeria! We can look at Saudi Arabia that was a desert just years ago, and how far they have come already. My convictions will only be mine, unless I do something about it. Your opinions will only be yours, unless you do something about it as well. It’s almost impossible for a week to pass without hearing people argue about the government and Nigeria in general. Whether it’s the motor park, hotel lobby, fuel station everyone seems to have an idea of how to move this nation forward. I want to look at our individual opinions as small cells that need to come together to form a bigger unit, and the only way to integrate and try to convert our opinions into actual results is by taking part in the election process. I saw a coupon some years ago and it read “if you don’t like politics, think twice because politics likes you”. A lot of us have never voted in our lives even when we are qualified to vote, we don’t think we have to, we also don’t think our votes will change anything. To be candid, when we drive through the bad roads or complain when the electricity goes off, that’s politics at work. We can change all that now, the time has come. I urge you, with all vehemence to participate this time around. Make those opinions count.

Copyright

© Ceeflod.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ©ceeflod.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com

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SORES AND VEGETABLES (18+)

dream_a_z.jpgMy friend Harry sat in the parlour watching Soccer. The English premiership has always been his Saturday ritual. I knew as usual his red and white team would disappoint him, they always do. He kept screaming swear words and banging his hands on the centre table.

“Foolish manager, this old man is bereft of ideas, he should resign”

“But I think it’s still an even game, considering its still goalless” I said, as I watched Harry throw an empty can of beer towards the television set.

“This should be an easy game; this French retard is just wasting these boys”

I knew Harry would go on and on, we’ve lived together for three years and I know exactly how he takes these games. He would blame the manager, the players, the officials and even the supporters for not encouraging the team enough.

I decided to cook myself some noodles. So I put on my apron and gloves. I always feel like a master chef when it comes to preparing noodles. Harry kept screaming, so I decided to block my ears with some music. I wore my headphones and let Fela flood my head. The high life beat synchronised with my cooking. The garlic, onions, pepper, curry made my noodles look like something you will see on cable television. I could still hear Harry’s voice. I decided to ignore him till I heard a loud thud. I rushed to the parlour

“What just happened?” I asked

“This is crap, what is wrong with this team, d***m”

I saw that he had flung the centre piece on the wall. Then I looked at the television screen. His red and white team were down by four goals.

“Come on man, take it easy. It’s just a game. Don’t get yourself too worked up”

But Harry wasn’t paying any attention

“See…muguoya pass, ewo, yes…yes oooooo, kai. This boy is a big fool”

I knew how to calm Harry down. His antidote wasn’t far away. So I went into the kitchen, opened a cabinet and brought some vegetables out. I knew that once the aroma got to the parlour, soccer time would officially be over. First, I had to chop the vegetables into little bits and then wrap them up. I picked up my knife and got hard at work. I abandoned my noodles, as beautiful as it looked; after all, what are friends for.

I was almost done when the knife cut into my flesh, I screamed so loud that you would have thought I was an opera singer warming up for a show. Harry rushed into the kitchen. Blood was all over the cabinet, I wasn’t far away from tears .

“Sh**t, looks serious man” Harry screamed.

“I’ve got eyes; please go get the first aid box”

Harry dashed off. In few seconds he was back with the box.

“Cut some cotton wool and get the bottle of spirit out”

“I have done that, o my see blood everywhere” Harry looked quite frightened

“Now clean it up for me”

“I can’t, I am very sorry”

“Why?” I asked. I was obviously puzzled

“It’s just the blood, just can’t stand it”

“This is crazy, I’m bleeding and you’re here talking about what you can stand and what you can’t”

“Sorry bro, let’s just go to a hospital or something”

“Okay, just picture that it’s Alicia and she’s on”

“That’s so different”

“You told me last week that you could even use your mouth”

“This is an injury, hers isn’t”

“It bleeds too; hers is a big wound man”

“Well I never thought of it that way, it’s an acceptable wound then, come let’s go to the clinic ”

So we went to the clinic. I got the wound stitched. We still had a lot of vegetables that day, till everywhere was cloudy and images were blurry. I forgot about the incident till last night. I was already approaching what scientists call paradox sleep, when I heard Harry’s phone ring. I figured he was already asleep, but the phone kept ringing till Harry eventually woke up.

“Alicia, how are you. It’s really late now…ok, but you’re on…ok, urgghhhh…yes, I can be there in twenty minutes…Please stay that way….That’s my girl..I’m coming”

I have always been fascinated at Marvel characters like The Flash, I love how fast he moves, but that night Harry was faster. In just seconds I heard his car come on, and then he was off into the night.

So much for wounds…..

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© Ceeflod.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ©ceeflod.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com

KILL THE COCKROACH!!

Do you love movies? Ok yes you do…do you love action movies..I guess so! Who doesn’t… have you forgotten Jack bauer already? Do you remember the series..24! , if you do then you must remember that phrase…“Kill the cockroach”, the tyrant that used the phrase to motivate his child-soldiers, it was quite surreal watching small kids blow the heads of adults and it made me wonder how numb their conscience must have been. I know it’s all fictional but it was very believable and that’s why I think 24: Redemption will always be in a class of its own. Now whenever i see Hakeem kae-kazeem smiling in Etisalat adverts I’m always baffled, although he has made so much money by displaying his dentition I still prefer seeing him with the AK-47, howling out commands. Well, today is all about the cockroaches….have you noticed how we all get ruffled when we discover rats in our homes, the way they dash across the kitchen and make funny sounds at night. Our next point of action is always to eliminate them and so we fervently get down to work, can we say the same for the roaches that creep slowly? We don’t get frightened when we see them, we simply try to step on them with our shoes and if they manage to get away we simply let them go. Both of them eat up our food, clothes and books but one gets the serious scourge.

At this point it’s quite possible that you’re confused and probably wondering where I’m headed……just take a deep breath, we’ll soon be there. I always come up with different concepts and angles in order to nail the cross effectively. So what are the rats in your life? The things that scare us so much and we earnestly try to avert…sickness, accidents, Death…Certainly that, nobody wants to die. So we try our best to keep them away, but can we say the same for the roaches? Those things that creep all over us, that nibble on our very existence but it’s so hard to spot them out. They try so hard to equate themselves with normality. Low self esteem, doubt and dwindling aspirations…These are all typical examples of how the cockroaches attack us, the young man that was once budding with desires and dreams is now a claqueur for the rich, and has assumed that poverty is descendible…so since his grandfather was poor and his father is poor then poverty is most likely his birthright, so every day you take whatever life gives you, you tag satisfaction as what is available not what is attainable…..that’s the cockroach getting fat in your life. You manage to keep the rat away, you stay alive, you go to the hospital when you’re sick, you get married and raise kids…. You look alright, but alright is the story of millions in the world today. Alright is a valley, it gives you the rain and sunshine and enough to go on… but then there’s a mountain somewhere…you should have climbed or be trying to climb. The cleistogamous plants are colourful and look almost the same as the other plants in the bunch…..but when you take a closer look at them you’ll realize that they do not open up, they remain closed. When are you going to open up? When are you going to make records out of that voice? When are you going to get that role in a blockbuster movie? Are you trying to get out of the shadows?

I’m several miles away from perfection and I’m just like you…trying to get rid of the roaches in my life, I ignored them countless times and there have been repercussions but at least I’m doing something. I’ve been trying to weigh the effect the kill the cockroach chants must have had on those little boys, all they saw in front of them were tiny roaches but in reality they had several pounds of flesh and blood in front of them, they were brainwashed to the extent where their eyesight held no meaning. It’s one thing to recognise your problems; it’s another thing to see your obstacles as mere roaches. To see the big challenges in front of you as little, little enough to make you want to dive in almost at once without second thoughts…..to already see victory! Believe me when I say victory is place, a place we all need to visit soon, book your ticket now! Start killing the cockroaches.
So today I joint in the chanting

KILL THE COCKROACH! KILL THE COCKROACH! KILL THE COCKROACH!

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© Ceeflod.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ©ceeflod.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com

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PGID: THE CAUSE BEHIND THE CURSE

The title “the cause behind the curse” is my calculative attempt to sum up something so heavy with few words, perhaps the caption serves as an augury for my next lines. I’m going to verbally operate on PGID and hope I can communicate effectively and entertain you as well. Today makes it two years since I started blogging, so it’s a special moment for me. When we tear up animals we are always mindful of their entrails, how bad they smell….so we carefully get rid of them. PGID is one human and societal entrail that’s been left for too long and now it has maggots popping out, it was never opened up in the first place, was never torn to shreds….its lifeless carcass lies by the river bank, it doesn’t have a hand to stir the water like Ebola or claws to hurt like HIV, its steady and defiant ooze is now a raucous of its own. In its solitary it has made some noise, just enough to catch my thirsty ears.

PGID stands for PERSISTENT GENITAL AROUSAL DISORDER. Its name is long….as long as its plague, it’s the menacing guest our parents warned us about as kids growing up. It’s a disorder we have no control over, it’s phenomenal….I use that word because its negatively unique……but it’s still unique. It is the persistent uncontrollable genital arousal in women and is largely unrelated to any feelings of sexual desire. Any form of vibration i.e. from mobile phones, generator sets, trains and sound speakers puts the syndrome into action and in most occasions it leads to orgasm. I read a story recently about a lady, she boarded a train on a very warm afternoon and just as the train left the station she started wriggling, writhing and moaning…she straightened her legs out as the unquenchable spasms kicked in. other passenger were shell shocked and majority of them assumed she was epileptic, but that wasn’t the case. She was simply having an orgasm…her fifth that day alone.

You know that saying? Be careful what you wish for because you just might get it all, some ladies always go the extra mile trying to get to an orgasm but the PGID’ERS can have ten in a single day!. It’s as mind wrecking as being raped, it is stringed with a sufficient level of decadence so “victims” lock their plights up. I watched an episode of A 1000 ways to die, the show has gradually become my favourite…it’s my “popcorn” show and exhibits the menacing ways people get a full stop to their lives, in the episode a man carnally took advantage of a PGID’er and would purposely set her phone on vibration and enjoy the show as she made loud moans on the couch with tears in her eyes. This people have no place for love in their lives, they are always likely to get sexually exhausted and see sex as a painful experience. I know it’s implausible but it’s everywhere, people are thriving with this disorder, my article today is just a microcosm, an attempt to shine light on something that has hobbled in the dark for so long.

Literature says it is caused by an irregularity of the sensory nerves and is more likely to happen to people that have had hormonal treatment. As much as there is no cure it can still be effectively managed, as much as there is a social barricade you can still reach out for help..There is always available help, help shares a common boundary with hope and hope is what keeps us going. So now you know PGID is real, you don’t take advantage, you don’t victimise them….You just offer hope. Its never a good thing when you can’t control your sexual desire, when your heart is not a connecting pipe to your deepest emotions…That’s how PGID exerts itself..don’t add another layer to the CURSE

Copyright

© Ceeflod.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ©ceeflod.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com

BODY COUNT (18+)

You love life..the funfair and frenzy, you relish Friday nights, according to you it’s a perfect avenue to let go of the stress that’s been building up all week, so there you are on that leather couch, sipping from the glass cup in your hands, you’re not too drunk to notice the charming gentleman that’s been winking at you all night long, then in the few minutes that follow you dance with him and let him talk dirty in your ears. Two hours later your naked figure is lying on a bed, used condoms are littered on the floor and the gentleman is obviously fatigued and is knocked out….snoring. It’s a normal scenario for you so you simply go under the duvet and sleep on till morning.

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You find it difficult to ignore the ladies, everyday you walk along the road you come across beautiful ladies and you always try to get them to notice you. All you need is for them to smile at you…Maybe wink or blush…you just need a sign! Then you get to work, you’re a smooth talker so it’s quite easy to get them to believe you. You promise them the heavens; you make promises and profess a ‘specie’ of love deep enough to make Romeo and Juliet jealous, but all you want is ‘victory’, you see every lady as a game of poker and you only derive satisfaction when her legs are spread apart and you’re kneeling in front of her, struggling to get your condom on… the clock on the wall ticks and plays a perfect symphony for you while you enjoy the spoil.

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Two illustrations from very different angles but with striking similarities, sex is so easy to indulge in as long as you can find someone eager enough to “participate”. We even chase after sex like there’s an accolade attached to it, these days it’s as simple as sharing a cup of coffee, sex is now an occupation! It pays the bills, buys you the new phone and even gets you the job. Great sex is economically a good idea…..that’s how the society has made it look. A young man takes serious pride in bragging to his friends about how many “ladies he has laid” and the girls always want to have the richest “sex job”. Even when ‘accidents’ happen there’s no self-flagellation of any sort, no guilt and certainly no dent in our self esteem. The term guilt is frigidly relevant and doesn’t hold any ground with the ailing state of our moral pedigree. As much as we have made sex an expedient diet, how mindful are we of our body count? I’m sure a large number of us won’t be able to fathom what I mean by body count, it’s all about the number of times we have had sex. If you still know your count then you can give yourself a pat on the back! The concept was designed to help us checkmate and control our “sexual exploits”, it also indirectly helps to give us a stronger resolve to reserve sex for those “magical” moments. I came along a picture some days back with a very strong inscription and it read-

Every man you have sex with deposits and leaves a part of his soul in you…..how many soul ties are you walking around with?”

It’s a very short phrase but then its message is as strong as they come…we can decide to decrypt the term “soul ties” whichever way we want but the question that kept popping in my head was ….what if there’s a greater consequence for every body count? I don’t mean the STD’s or the “sin sermons”…what if there’s a lot more? Would you be more cautious when it comes to sex? I’m sure we are all aware of the answer! So why not start today? A drink in the club or money should never be a collateral for sex….we can start making our body count actually…COUNT!

Copyright

© Ceeflod.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ©ceeflod.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com

DEMONS IN PRADA

Every lady likes to look good, and these days the thirst for fashion is at its thresh hold. Every year we see fashion constantly evolve like never before, there’s always a new blouse or a new skirt, and the desire to flow with the trend is insatiable. Personally, I love it when a lady stands out; it’s always an interesting sight when a lady captivates the crowd! The gentlemen fervently drool all the way but then I tend to wonder if fashion gives any insight to a ladies personality. What’s more startling is the fact that every lady looks beautiful these days, with the cosmetics and artificial hair! But the clothes and shoes only serve as a podium for every lady, yes! She sparkles and glows but that’s quite superficial and says nothing of her personality. The lady with the long heels might just be shallow; the woman with the bright clothes may just be cruel, but every ‘”modern dude” wants to judge a lady by what she wears and in most instances that’s the only attribute they look out for. The ladies have noticed this “change” so they invest all their time trying to look good, they stop developing their intellects and character, they leave their talents to gather dust. So beauty becomes their only goal, social media has not helped in any way, with facebook and instagram there is always a reason to dress good for the camera, so the society has beautifully patterned “pots” in all corners of the universe…..the only problem is these pots are empty! I know so far I’ve only been critical but at some point the cock has to crow! This is just a wakeup call to the ladies…definitely if you look sizzling you’ll have the attention of most guys, but what’s the duration of the admiration? A thousand likes on your facebook and that’s most of it! And your webs will certainly bring you guys that are all clogged up with lust. I have always been of the mindset that love is like the wind….it’s not seen its felt! Lust sees…..love feels! So ladies ask yourself today… “How well have I developed myself?” “Am I offering anything more to my society other than pictures?” These questions are pivotal to every lady that wants to take the self examination test. Every girl regardless of her social status or wealth is like a glass of palm wine, nature in all of its dynamicity gives room for “compulsory change”. With each passing day you keep fermenting, and with time you won’t be the “Cinderella” you once were. The beauty fades but the talent and quality stands strong, that’s all that matters. I’d love to take a Ferrari for a spin, I also hope to ride in a Bentley someday, but if I want to buy a car I’d certainly look beyond the grandeur of these motorcars and will earnestly consider the engine and its durability! I’m being quite metaphorical but I’m sure everyone reading gets the scope! The figure is great, the smile is stunning, the legs are amazing….most dudes will love to take a “ride’” or a quick spin! But when it’s time for commitment they will always consider the “engine”, they will weigh your character and evaluate your quality. I think I have scribbled enough words….so my ladies you can decide to redefine your perspective to life today, as you try to keep in touch with fashion today, don’t leave the “things that really matter” behind! God bless you!

Copyright

© Ceeflod.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ©ceeflod.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com

THE SPEECH

The bald headed man with the brown teeth called him out to the podium, although he sat in front and not too far from the stage he felt like he was going to break down. The applause from the crowd was deafening, he took what he felt were probably his most important steps and as he got to the podium the bald headed man smiled broadly displaying his very nasty dentition, he received a warm hug and in just seconds there he was alone on the very high stage. He was amazed at the sea of faces, mostly smiling and looking at him with enthusiasm. He fumbled around with the paper in his hands, he tried his best to hold back from cursing when he realized that he had the wrong paper with him. What do I do now! And then there was silence, he could hear his heart beat, he slowly brought the microphone to his mouth

“Good day everyone…I am humbled by this award and the fact that I was recognised for something so small ehm I meant to say something so big and yet so small like this piece of iron! Oh no not iron I was going to say like this piece of gold” sweat beads flowed down his fore head into his eyes and now he cursed

“shiiiiiit!”…….

Now everyone looked puzzled and some chuckled, he felt so embarrassed, he wondered why people had to give these dumb speeches after an award! I’m good with the computers and programming! Not with these silly speeches, fake smiles and hugs!.

“I’m sorry for the swear word, we programmers have a habit of cursing when we are faced with a stumbling block, this award is not a stumbling block!!…oh God”

Now people were laughing and applauding him, he felt so silly…. These people are getting a free show from me ! he put his hands in his pocket and took his handkerchief out and made to wipe his face with it and just then he saw her….Melanie….they most important woman in his life…..the only woman that dared love a geek like him…he was surprised to see her, she hadn’t told him she was going to come and now here she was with her perfect eyes, smile and that pony tail that simply made her look like a goddess. She nodded her head and gave him the thumbs up smile, he felt the courage simmer in.

“Thank you all for honouring me, I know I made a very bad start here but the thing is I’ve always sucked at these things and would rather talk to my computer with my fingers. I spent my entire night prior to this morning trying to write up something meaningful and after several failed attempts I was able to come up with something good enough but then I forgot to come with it. Sincerely, I was about to give everyone here a good show and absolutely embarrass myself but then I saw someone just now and I think I have found the words, deeply embedded in passion, and hopefully the passion will save me today. There’s never a minute of regret when you do something you enjoy because in the depth of that desire you’ll find ideas and inspiration like never before”

He paused and looked down at Melanie, she was still radiant and beautiful as ever, he smiled back at her and continued with his speech

“I was always too smart, I was always way ahead of my mates but I never found perfection till I found my true desire. If you ever want to be like me all you have to do is listen to your heart, let your heart decide the denouement..Once again thank you very much and God bless you for this award”

He took a step backward and there was silence for a quarter of a second…did I flop!but within a twinkle of an eye everyone was up applauding him, he could even hear screams, he glanced at Melanie and there she was sobbing and smiling at the same time, her mouth formed the words “I love you”. He knew he had nailed it for sure! Alas Nick Kempton gave a good speech!

Copyright

© Ceeflod.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ©ceeflod.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com

LOVIGEOUS

Doubt that the stars are fine, doubt that the sun doth move,doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt love- William Shakespeare

The bible in all its strictness and holiness still got a bit flexible at a point; I scrolled through its pages some days ago and saw some very notable lines about love. Although I have attended church all my life, those words pierced through me like never before. That must have been my 1000th time of coming across that chapter of the bible. It talks about love and all the virtues we must possess before we can become self acclaimed lovers, it got me wondering if God knew that love was going to get so messed up in 21st century and thought it expedient to draw up some road maps for those that can brace themselves up and run to the everlasting best seller for help. I look around me today and I see people with their different notions of love, everyone is a relationship expert till their own love affair comes crumbling. If you survive two weeks with your partner people start throwing surprise glances at you….like “how did this people make it through?”……..just 14 days! That illustrates the times we are in now. We acknowledge the end before the beginning, we say yes to love but deep down we anticipate its end. A friend of mine recently told me that she loves her hobby but she doesn’t see them lasting much longer, and so I asked her why and she offered no viable explanation….” It always ends noooooow” was all she could mutter. I strongly think there should be a degree program for LOVE and its affiliates…an institution that will try to decrypt the technically structured puzzle called love!( I’m sure you’re laughing now and calling me silly). People refer to the folks that talk about love often as being “mushy” but yet love is almost as vivid as the birds that fly and the trees that sway. If you grew up in Africa it gets worse, the only time you receive the approval to flaunt your LOVE is when you are married or just about to…..The African system condemns love before marriage and it is seen as immoral. Just the other day I saw an elderly woman throw out saliva at a boy and girl I presumed to be couples just because the boy suddenly discovered that the girls neck tasted like chocolate and made it his point of duty to nibble at it in public…. So being in love as a teenager or youth in Africa is like smoking marijuana. I’d love to digress a bit today because I have written several articles on love and I really want this piece to have a unique touch to it and that brings me to the very popular question that has definitely been asked in the host of languages that exist…………HOW DO I KNOW WHEN I FIND LOVE???? HOW DO I KNOW HE/SHE IS FOR REAL? Even philosophers have to admit that some questions can only be answered by the same God they do not believe in..lol…. so yours dearly ran to his bible for answers and here is what I found :

Love endures
It’s so sad how easily we give up on the person we claim to be in love with; the inability to patch up and try to move on is really a relationship killer. The fights are bound to happen once in a while but if it’s actually love it can be stretched all the way like its elastic….you can say he makes you cry a lot but you have to self examine yourself….do you love him? Is he worth the tears? If he is then it’s okay to keep believing and I’m sure there will be smiles in no time.

Love is kind
Kindness is pivotal in every relationship and if you ask me I’d say it’s the “oxygen” every relationship needs to thrive in, gender is insignificant here. A lady should return as much kindness as she receives; a guy should capitalise on every opportunity that presents itself to show his lady that he cares. Kindness is usually a trademark at the start of every love tale but we easily let it wither once we get deep in the triangle.

Love never fails
Love is webbed in perfection, its concept produces beautiful results, and it’s the supplement we all need to enjoy our existence. You might say money is all you need to make the best out of life..But in God’s plan he created a space for every one of us to find love and be loved and money will never fill that void. A wise man once said “I found wealth the day I found love”.

These points are basically what we need to answer most questions we ask when we are emotionally perplexed. If there’s no kindness and thirst to be together then you definitely need to make the “hard decision”. Remember…Money, great sex and beauty can never take the place of LOVE, try to recollect the epic tale of beauty and the beast…how love transformed the beast! I know its all fictional but your beast is anything that scares or prevents you from feeling fulfilled….Just find love and scare that beast away!.

Copyright

© Ceeflod.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ©ceeflod.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com

THE SPRINT

On your marks…..

Get set…..

Ready….

Go………

These are the words said before the sprint, I’m not using them metaphorically, and this piece is all about those lines. I always wonder what goes through an athlete’s mind as he kneels on the floor, sweat dripping from his face; he has probably spent three or more years of his life just for that fifteen seconds surge. The drills and hard work could lead to something beautiful, a gold medal……… brooches and the beam light over the podium. It could also leads to tears and frustration; believe me when I say the pendulum could swing in any direction regardless of how determined and motivated they are. Now let’s try to apply this to our everyday life, the student that spends several weeks studying just for a thirty minutes paper or the patient that has waited several months for a new heart to be available, how does the student feel in those few seconds before the exam, how does the patient feel as he lies down on the operating table…………the next few hours could determine if he’ll be alive to witness his daughters graduation but then all he can do is hope for the best. What do we do when we work so hard for something but end up losing them, when we know what we want or what to do but can’t do anything because our fate is in someone else’s hands…..do we quit? Do we allow fear and depression to set in? or should we get on our marks full of purpose and GO!, on the tracks there are always a couple other sprinters all after the same price, the race is never run alone, it’s always a competition….I chose these illustrations because life is so similar to the race track, none of us dropped from the sky, or from our mums sex affair with Zeus….that’s all fictional! Reality is all about the competition, there’s always a war to fight, as children growing up it was probably the class bully, as we grew it became the race for love, success and self relevance. We all know what happens when a sprinter sprains an ankle or for some reason falls to the ground……..nobody stops! Because at that point nobody really cares about you……..everyone is after the same price. Your friends could neglect you at any point, it has always been a constant in life, the people you thought had your back all of a sudden live you out in the cold….what matters at the end of the day is what you make out of life……friends are baskets that could perforate at any time, so as you lay your eggs in several baskets make sure yours is very full and sealed, Don’t be an empty vessel that relies on people for everything, you must steadily develop yourself. Despite the ups and downs we might encounter in the struggle, despite the number of times we might lose out in the race, the idea of victory and the red ribbon against our chest at the end of the race should propel us to push on.

So instead of grumbling and feeling all depressed…….get on your marks and GO!

Copyright

© Ceeflod.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ©ceeflod.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com

A TALE FOR MAC

Mac staggered a little, sweat dropping from his face, his hands felt very hot in his boxing gloves, he could barely see his opponent and it was just his fourth round. The screams and hoots were so loud, mc miller his rather aggressive coach kept screaming words at him “cut loose!” he screamed. Mac knew he could offer better, he knew he could take this guy down before the seventh round. He threw lazy jabs as his opponent evaded all of them swiftly, he tried pushing off with his feet but deep down Mac knew he had to make his movement slow. A champion he had always been, he knew he could box right from when he was just a kid, taking a tooth away from Jason the class bully; his Jewish parents hadn’t helped his boxing career in the least, when he got so deep into underground boxing his father disowned him, the father that had cried tears of joy at his Bar Mitzvah ceremony. He left home with his russack and a picture of his sister Emily in his wallet. Mac went deep into crime, peddling drugs and getting paid in return, in New Jersey the boxing game was synonymous with crime, he knew he had to get into the ring and prices had to be paid. Then Hugo, the Mexican “hooker” brought him into the mix, introduced him to match fixers, they didn’t trust that he could deliver considering his slender arms and rather boyish looks, but they gave him a chance. Few jabs and hooks and his first opponent was spilling blood on the canvas, that got the attention of everyone, few cliques started placing bets on Mac and he always delivered, each victory added to his fast rising credibility. Soon he was out of the streets, got himself a small apartment on some county in Newark, Mac never tangled himself with the ladies, he had seen niggas go six feet for messing up with girls, so he stayed away from them until he met Natalie. She swept him off his feet, his rather blunt arrogance was soon replaced with self demean as he did everything to get Natalie’s attention. It worked perfectly; they started going out soon enough and it was splendid to feel loved, she seemed to improve his game because six months after they got together Stellar Mason, the president of a very popular boxing outfit invited him to come join him, he wanted Mac to go pro. Soon enough Mac was boxing under the spotlight, his fan base grew, he made sure he stayed clean with the people that made him. Stellar and his associates were all street thugs in French suits, but he knew that as long as he gave them their cut he was good. He enjoyed every fight, he didn’t always win but he always left the ring contented.

A year later he was the most sought after boxer, he was already making the headlines of major newspapers, he was making so much money but what gave him the most satisfaction was coming home to Natalie. He knew she had to be his forever, so in the winter of December 1989, on christmas eve he proposed to her, she cried so much that he didn’t get an answer that day, even when she told him yes she still sobbed profusely, they got married the following spring, his marriage gave him a sense of purpose, he took down opponents in the first few rounds, he fought clean without dope, but his techniques were top class, Stellar made so much money from Mac’s fights and match gambling. Mac had a target, he wanted to be the IBF champion that year and he had just one more fight before the title could be his. Few days to the game, Stellar called him into his office, slowly puffing from his cigar; he told Mac that he had to lose the game

“Dimmit, Stellar….. I aint losing no fight” Mac sounded very upset

“Look here boy, it’s a neat one, hit the canvas and 1 million dollars would be wired into your account” Stellar replied

“For six years, I’ve served you without hassles; I need that title, Stel”

“Wish I could help you boy, but the order is from above, you go against them, they goanna get you and hurt you boy” Stellar replied, puffing cigar smoke on Mac’s face

“This is crap! Quite plain crap!” Mac replied as he slammed the door on his way out.

The legendary night

The legendary night

So there he was on the day of the fight, throwing weak jabs, Mc Miller didn’t know it was a lost fight, he kept screaming, David Louino, his opponent kept throwing jabs, hooks, Mac tried slipping away, rotating his body to avoid David’s furious fists. Whenever Mac threw a blow, his eyes always locked with Stellar’s who was grinning mischievously, although Mac made his jabs weak on purpose he still used his techniques to fade away blows and duck, he just wanted to stretch the game a little further. His plan was to get to the sixth round and then let a few of David’s upper-cut blows get to his face, whenever a round was over Miller would scream so hard at him

“You too soft today Mac, we worked so hard for this, send this guy home!” if only he knew!

Mac was quite irritated at the grin David wore on his face, this dude don’t know I can take him down in thirty seconds! Just when Mac thought his game plan was working, David got clean on him, with a straight blow to his face that sent Mac sprawling to the ground; the punch was so hard that the crowd went silent for a while

One..two……three…….four………. the official counted

Mac knew he should stay on the canvas and get this done with, but then he heard a voice, it was Natalie!

“Get up Mac, get up!” she screamed

Five…….six…….

So he staggered to his feet, just as the bell rang for an end to the round. Natalie got into his corner with him.

“Darling, you look pretty hurt” she said, wiping off some blood from his face with her thumb

“Natie, will you hate me if I lose this fight?” Mac asked

“Never! You’ll always be my champion and junior’s” Natalie replied, she had tears in her eyes now

“Junior?” Mac looked bewildered

“Yes love, I am pregnant, he’s goanna be a champion like his dad too”

“Wow” Mac was sobbing now

They held each other, as they sobbed uncontrollably
Miller came around to let Mac know it was almost time to get back into the ring

“I’m goanna be a father Mill, a father…hahaha!!” Mac swollen face didn’t complement his smile

“Congrats boy, now go make me proud” Miller said

When Mac got to his feet, he walked to David’s corner, smiling seriously

“Sorry man, but I’m gonna be a father soon”

David and his coach looked quite puzzled, they were obviously wondering what was wrong with Mac, and then the bell went off. Both men moved quickly, showing great footwork, they exchanged a few jabs and shared a lot of clinging, and then Mac threw his trademark uppercut, then another and another! David staggered but didn’t fall to the floor, he showed some good skills, he slipped, bobbed, blocked but Mac was too good for him, a series of cross blows sent David to the floor. By now Stellar was fuming and making some calls, Mac didn’t care, he knew there was no way David was getting up again, he ran out of the ring to where Natalie was shedding tears of joy, he lifted her up from the ground as he spun her around, he was crying, obviously overwhelmed at his victory. He almost forgot that he had failed the ‘fixers’ but then he glanced towards Stellar, although there was noise everywhere he could read Stellar’s lips

“You are finished” those were the words Stellar’s lips formed.

Mac pulled away from Natalie, he felt a myriad of fear creep in

“Baby, no matter what happens, just know I love you very much, tell our boy about his father’s achievement”

“What’s going on Mac? You scaring me, wh……….” Natalie looked frightened

“Shhhhhhh……don’t ask dear, I want you to walk calmly, get into your car and drive home, don’t open up for no one baby……I mean no one!”

“You are coming home, right? We goanna sit and have pizza tonight”

“Yeah baby, sure, I’m coming home to you, now go baby go” he watched Natalie walk out, until she got lost in the crowd

The officials pulled him away; they took him to the ring and handed the belt to him, a deflated Mac lifted his belt up amidst the cheers and chants. He walked out with his eyes to the skies; he knew they were definitely going to come for him, he said goodnight to Miller, got into his Ford Escort and drove home as fast as he could. His hands were all sweaty and shaking, the pain from the fight wasn’t helping either, he just wanted to be home with Natalie. He could see his house now, the light in the kitchen was on, Natalie was probably preparing something, he was already thinking of the massage she was going to give him. He let his mind wander, he couldn’t wait to get into the bathtub and sip on some wine, while Natalie would talk and giggle in her naturally sexy way. He turned his car stereo on, Olivia Newton-John’s physical’ song was playing

“I’ve been patient, I’ve been good
Tried to keep my hands on the table
It’s getting hard this holding back”
……………

Just then a black sedan wagon pulled up beside him, he looked out of his window, he saw a man he was sure he had met somewhere before. The man had a smirk on his face, and then he saw something else! A nozzle was pointed at him from the backseat; Mac closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The sound of the gun was the last he ever heard, the bullet went through his left eyes, a lot of blood splashed on his leather seat. Then there was silence everywhere, Mac was dead, a block away from his home.

if you enjoyed this piece,then feel free to join me on bbm! that's my barcode! God bless ya

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Merry Christmas!

Copyright

© Ceeflod.wordpress.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ceeflod.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com