CIMDHOG

"Who's that?"

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Thu, 02 May 2019 04:59:00 +0000

"mummy who's that?" one of the commonest questions I bombarded my poor mother whilst growing up. I had been an inquisitive gal more like a gossip... Hush, asking questions about people shouldn't be considered as gossip. I was Interested in stories of the people around me, most time to further boost the imaginative storyline I had for my daydreaming characters.

Each time I ask this question I brace myself because I know what usually follows is not a oneliner or title that the person held but rather stories of circumstances surrounding how they met, the individuals family and friends and if possible their pets and it's generation.

Unfortunately for my dear mother and fortunately for me, she was although not the most popular in the area but let's just say we take a lot of rest stops consisting of short chit chat with numerous acquaintances leading to a lot of stories for me.

This afternoon I ran into an old acquaintance in church and while we exchange pleasantries and smiles my eyes darted to the two girls standing closely behind her aged about 15 &13 smiling sheepishly, with the resemblance I need not ask if they were hers.

We ended our greeting and she proceeded to continue her journey. I took another look at her as she passes by, at that same moment I caught the eldest moving closer to her mother as her lips mouthed the words "mummy, who's that?" and I can only imagine the kind of story that was allotted to me.

Adulthood Friends

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Sun, 23 Dec 2018 11:45:00 +0000

“I enjoyed our talk today”. She said

“I think we’ll be good friends”

My train of thought immediately screeched to an emergency stop.

Friends? Good Friends? In this my adult life? Is it still possible or am I hallucinating? or Did the one sip of vodka I had at the after party go straight to my head?

Although we had been acquaintances with occasional passerby hellos and his and more rarely, I like your hair.

I did not envisage that this would be the outcome of our “outside the hospital” happy hour.

A mutual friend was getting hitched and we decided to carpool aka leech on, someone else to get to the destination of the wedding. Apparently, that was the setting needed to get things spiral out of control.

“Girls will always be girls”, despite the limited space available at the back seat of the Corolla we found ourselves going from minor chit-chat to full-on display of makeup gears and hair brushes, which led to a mini round of borrowing te a tete, and we that we bonded even more.

With our newly found closeness, we engaged in some deeper discussions on career paths and “boys”, her reason for confiding in “me” on this kind of issue still eludes me but all I realized what that experiences were shared, personal statements were made and it all felt wonderful.

In the course of our discussion I had entertained the thought of a full-on friendship, however, I tucked it back to the dark corner where it belonged.

Then she dropped the bombshell

“I think we’ll be good friends”

What!

A friend gained in my early adult -with a lot of awkward-stage?.

Nothing had prepared me for this scenario. The alarm system in my brain went off putting all the other organs in disarray.

What do I do with “adulthood friend”?

Do I have to feed her, clean her and bathe her? If I have to feed her what do I give her, what if she doesn’t like what I give and spits it back on my face? Do I smack her?

I have always been used to childhood friends, we’ve grown together and accepted each other's weirdness

“My goodness what if I scare my adulthood friend with my weirdness”

New Blog post?

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Wed, 07 Nov 2018 20:18:00 +0000

The week has been an exhausting one not actually physically exhausting but more of mental and emotional exhaustion.

I had been stretched to my very limits both mentally and emotionally to points I didn't know I could get to, my emotional drive had been burnt our all I feel is numb, the earlier burning emotion of anger that had enveloped me had gradually slipped away and left me high and dry.

I try so much to poke at my emotional center for a release of a little juice of emotion any kind of emotion to make sure I was human once again but all I got in return was the fume of dust and a hiss from the breakdown of the emotion machine that resided in my head.

I let out another sigh and focus once again on the activities of the past week.

"I should come up with a new blog post" the silent voice in my head whispered in an attempt to distract from the situation at hand.

I flipped my laptop open with reluctant obedience to the voice in my head.

A few minutes pass by and I could do was stare at the blank document in front of me, anytime now the inspiration would come, I said giving myself the vaguest of all consolation.

I smiled at my naive nature and foolishness

I laid my head in the keyboard drifting off to a fantasy land where I hoped life was easier and a lot simpler.

My Earliest Childhood Memory

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Mon, 29 Oct 2018 03:52:00 +0000

Most of my early childhood has been and is still a blur to me I don't remember a lot of it. However, one memory had stuck to me throughout these years.

I can't remember exactly what day of the week it was but I remember it was quite late at night judging from the pitch darkness that surrounded us the only source of light was an eerily lit lantern seated on the desk at the center of the one-room apartment. At the corner was the 6x4 bed which took up the majority of the already small spaced apartment.

How things had led to that particular moment is still very unclear to me, all I can remember was screaming at the top of my lungs twisting and turning trying to avoid the figure of the woman aiming at me with a needle (my mum), the fact that she was a professional nurse and actually does it for a living was of no solace. I continued to scream as my mum continued to wrestle to find a comfortable spot and keep me still enough to stick the needle into my not-so-small frame. Outside the door, I hear knocks.

"Mummy Seun!", it was our next door neighbor "é fi si lé" (leave her alone)

"Iya Seun" (Seun's mother), another neighbor called from the back window, "é ma na mó" (stop beating her!)

Realizing the gang up against her, my mother eventually responded

"É ma da lohun, abéré nikan ni mo fé fun" (pay no attention to her, I'm just giving her an injection)

"Ko buru" (no problem), they responded with a light chuckle as I heard the footsteps of those I thought would be my saviors walk away.

After several more minutes of trying to wrestle out of the lock-down my mum had on me, she successfully inserted the needle into the skin of my left arm. I screamed louder out of pain but within seconds I was left alone to nurse the pain on my left arm.

While I can't significantly remember the pain I felt that night, the struggle of that night imprinted itself in my memory.

Liar, Liar...

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Mon, 22 Oct 2018 05:12:00 +0000

You see, when I was a little younger I used to pride myself in the fact that I don't lie...yep as a kid, I was not much of a liar...lool...I laugh at my own stupidity and naive nature.

Circumstances were different then...I found out I rather be quiet than deny or lie about stealing a popcorn or burning down the house...just kidding, I was not totally into popcorn enough for me to steal. So then my mum knew whenever she asks me about any mischievous deed I had carried out and I remain quiet or try to deviate from the topic when I am being questioned, I was 100% guilty.

I thought it would last but Nah.

No circumstance during my childhood or the adolescent stage prepared me for the responsibility of adulthood and how serious every other person apart from you takes little things. So, of course, little by little the lies start creeping in, from one sector of your life to another.

Be it in a relationship, at your workplace or among your friends... Although if you still have to lie to your friends I think that friendship isn't strong enough...and family.

Lies told in a relationship could be as little as "I'll be ready in 5mins" or "I’m not hungry" or even "I love u" Because let's be real these words have been thrown around so loosely they barely have any meaning or impact anymore. Although there are some lies that people tell to protect the feelings of others.

Lies are also supplied in bulk at the workplace on a daily basis. Of course, his lateness is due to the aftermath of his gaming marathon the previous night but do u expect him to declare that out loud...hell Nah...

obviously the next morning, either his car got towed or there would be a massive traffic or transport commuters went on an emergency strike without warning. A lot of lies being told in daily basis is to save our skin and integrity, in the irony of things when lies are eventually found out which in most cases they do the integrity and skin would be badly burnt compared to before the lie...and had you said sorry and work towards ditching that attitude that would cause a lie...you would have been a better person. Also, the most pathetic is when your lie is so transparent that everyone could see through your lie and they just play along with u displaying your foolishness.

While I'm not claiming to be a bigger person, of course, I lie...once a while, majorly for stupid flimsy reasons but all the same a lie is a lie.

for example:

person: "I called you several times, you didn't pick up"

Me: (well aware that person x really did call me, in fact, I had my phone in my hands while person x was calling but didn't want to pause my game or YouTube video for a "phone call") Ehen?...didn't see it.

Person Z: " I knocked on your door several times, I guessed you weren't in"

Me: (obviously aware of someone knocking on my door, me staying still making sure not to make any movement or breathe too loudly until they go away) Ehen?...didn't know OR maybe I was sleeping.

So as I was saying, wait I forgot the whole point of this post...oh yeah, Lying is bad.

20 Facts About Me

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Sun, 14 Oct 2018 23:48:00 +0000

1. I'm a 26yr old girl...woman, let's stick with "woman", according to the age but age is just a number...also but, numbers don't lie...sigh, I'm getting old.

2. I'm a full fleshed Nigerian

3. I'm a doctor...yep medical doctor, with the stethoscope and treating patients and stuff.

4. I'm single....no further details needed.

5. I love memes, they make the world a better place. I also like sharing my stock of memes on my social media. My motto: Everyone deserves to smile at least once in a day and memes are perfect for that.

6. I don't have allergies...in all my 26 years on planet earth I have not had an allergic reaction to anything; food, drugs or pet(thank God I'm not allergic to pets)...but it sucks sometimes.

7. I love rap music, and I mean actual rap music not some mumbo-jumbo cooked out by some mumble rapper

8. I am an extreme introvert, my idea of a nice time is being indoor with a good internet connection...the added advantage is if it's raining (I just had a daydream orgasm). I have only work and home clothes.

9. I have been makeup-free for most of my life... it's in the upbringing I guess.

10. I'm a very emotional person aka I cry easily...yeah, I'm usually the one sniffing my nose in the movie theater... For any movie whatsoever.

11. I love the idea of cooking, both indigenous and continental delicacies but I barely have the motivation to do it so I'm stuck watching YouTube videos with my mouth drooling saliva.

12. I can't stand anyone who talks down on people its the most irritating behavior there is and I immediately have a repulsion to anyone who does that.

13. I easily detach from people which is what I call my strongest and my weakest trait. I find it easy to cut people off now I'm here friendless...well, not totally; baeless, thank God for memes and YouTube

14. I'm not going to sugar coat it...I'm Fat...I mean "I'm holding a grudge with the weighing Scale" Fat. I walk up two flight of stairs and I'm winded.

15. I have a Sweet tooth...more like a sweet Gastrointestinal tract.

16. I had body image issues...still do sometimes but I'm getting better at it.

17. I save exercise plan on my phone from Pinterest such as ...

hoping it would motivate me with an exercise schedule... Spoiler alert...it does not.

18. I'm a lazy writer, this should not come as a surprise for you. Just look at this blog...

19. I get anxious and sad more often than I want to admit.

20. I am very very Confused.

The Awakening

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Sun, 07 Oct 2018 03:37:00 +0000

She glanced at the table clock positioned at the table beside the bed. She laid there for another ten minutes, reciting words of motivation that would help her get through the day. She tossed and turned on the cotton blue sheets one last time before reluctantly sitting up, sweeping away the bed covers from her plum body structure and proceeding to walk off the bed.

Its been nine months since she resumed work after the tragic accident but she doesn’t feel things are getting any better. The pain and emptiness she still feels do not feel any different from when she first got the news.

She exits the shower after a quick wash. she has been spending less and less time in the shower because that was where the demons in her head scream louder.

She smoothened the edge of her gown as she made her way to the fridge hoping to find a quick breakfast but was met with the emptiness of the fridge, she spun around grabbing her bag heading out to work making a mental note to get groceries on her way back from work.

She glanced at her wristwatch as she sat down at her desk. “08:00 hrs”. From the corner of her eyes, she noticed Julie coming towards her with a rather mischievous look. Julie had been one of the other workers who had worked in this company as long as she had. They both came in as naive fresh college graduates working as unpaid interns and have now proceeded to both be part of the executives of the institution, on multiple occasions she had introduced herself as Toni’s friend to others which she really does not want to haggle over. Seven days ago she had invited her to a party at her place along with other co-workers which she had refused without giving the reason because she felt she did not need any and prior to that had been several other invitations that she had all declined without a reason, unfortunately,

she was about six paces away from her and she needs to come up with something to turn down whatever offer she is coming with and make sure she does not come back.

“Hey Toni” Julie called out cheerfully “how are you today”

“ I'm good she replied how are you too”

“I'm fine, I had one of the most amazing weekends relaxing” Julie responded with that same mischievous smile on her face.

She waited in silence for the next big thing that would pop out of her coworkers’ mouth, a few seconds passed with no other form of conversation between them other than the mischievous smile on Julie’s face.

“So?” she finally blurted out

“Okay!” Julie said flaring her hands up in the air as if being jump-started by a jolt of electricity

“So what are you doing five days from now”

“I don't know yet but I think I would be a bit busy”

“it's on a Saturday how come you be busy”

“it is what it is” Toni replied with a shrug

“Anyway, Femi is coming to town sometime next week”

Femi is Julie’s fiance she had met a couple times before, he is a tall dark young man working and resident in the neighboring state, although how do they had managed to their relationship work despite the distance is still a mystery to her. He had proposed to her the last time you came visiting which was some weeks ago and since then Julie does not seem to have any other topic of discussion except for her fiance which is beginning to bore not only her but every other person in the office.

“He wants to meet with one of his friends from college who also works in the same company as him does but in this side of town”

It was then she knew the trouble Julie was brewing

“Nice for him, but I think I have a family function that day, my aunt is celebrating her birthday and has made it compulsory for all family members to attend I really like to go but family matter”

“Ehen?” ... Julie replied in disappointment

“Okay, I will call Toju, make a case for you and tell her you won't be able to make it. I’m sure she would understand”

“Oh, I forgot you were friends with my sister”

Julie’s laughter of triumph in the working area

“So I guess we’ll see u on Saturday. The four of us would have a wonderful time”

A part of her body wanted to protest but the other part is pinning her down, all of a sudden she felt all her energy go down the drain inhibiting her from protesting any further as if they are expectant of what happens next.

She could only then reply with one thing which was a heavy sigh

She was making final touches to her outfit when she heard a knock on the door, “I'm coming” she called out after the knock.

She looked through the peephole to see three people waiting expectantly with Julie arm in arm with her fiance.

She grabbed her purse and proceeded to walk out the door refusing to give a chance of anyone coming in and making themselves comfortable.

“Toni, you remember Femi” Julie gestured towards him still clutching his arm

“Hi Toni, nice to meet you again,” said Femi smiling down at his fiancee on his left arm

“And this is my Friend Emmanuel”, he gestured at the dark complexioned average height man standing behind them

“Hi, my name is Emmanuel,” he said as he stretches forth his hand for a handshake.

She locked her hands with his, “I’m Toni, nice to meet you”

“You look so beautiful”

“Thank you” she replied trying to let go of their hand lock. After some seconds he let go of her hand

“Shall we?” he gestured to the two cars parked in front of her apartment

“Would it not have been more economical to have brought just one car?”

“Well, I happen to have been coming from a family gathering”

She glared back at her friend who had decided to ignore her and her death stares.

After watching a movie, they headed to a restaurant together and had a good meal talking so long on various topics that made her give brief moments of smile and laughter.

They made their farewell with the other couple after leaving the restaurant and headed back to her place.

The car eased to a stop in front of her apartment.

“It was lovely meeting you today Toni, I had a wonderful time”

“Pleasure is mine... And thank you for the outing, its been a while”

“You are welcome” he replied, smiling at her as his eyes darted briefly towards her apartment..with that, she swung sideways opening the door and made her way to her front door.

Shocked he scrambled to open the door peering his head out the car

“So, I will call you later?” he called after her

“Sure” she replied halfheartedly as she proceeded to open the door closing it behind her.

She waited there for few seconds leaning on the door clutching her chest with her hand hoping it will stop her heart from racing. How could she start feeling things with someone else when Richards’ body is not yet cold in the ground?

She blinked back tears as she staggered to the bedroom and slammed her body on the soft welcoming bed either out of exhaustion over emotions or the actual outing, she could not tell the difference.

She left out a huge sigh of frustration.

“That was nice, we should do it more often,” a tiny voice said at the back of her head.

00:00hrs the clock inside the bed beeped.

Birthday Epiphany

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Mon, 01 Oct 2018 16:12:00 +0000

I recently turned a year older and I celebrated in a grand style as birthdays should be celebrated…lying in a fetal position, tucked firmly in between my sheets contemplating about my life and life in general.

In the midst of my contemplation and whining, I had an epiphany which did not come as a burst of electrical brain activity but rather as a grudgingly accepted fate of reality. Although getting old and growing up are two different entities, and I must say as tempting as it is to jump into a self-proclaimed fountain of youth and forever denying the existence of biological clocks and responsibilities.

I have however decided to rather hesitantly rise up to the occasion of accepting my badge into the University of “getting old”, in this state of adulthood accepting the terms and conditions AKA responsibilities.

How this is going to play out or work out at the end I have absolutely no idea but I have decided to trust my GOD and my guts as I leap into my reserved seat in the “getting old” train on this roller coaster called Life.

N:B: After coming across a simple challenging statement (A writer writes, so keep writing) I have decided to get a little bit more serious with my writing and other things. So I’m putting this out there to serve more as a threat to me. I have decided to start putting up at least one new post every Friday / Saturday…

and as all roller coasters, the beginning might be a little rough both on the inside and on the edges or filled with the stink of vomit making it an utter mess. I have decided to stick to this ride till the end and as the days, weeks, months go by(I pray I make it months) even if it does not get less shitty at least you will still have me…Just Kidding, we will have each other.

The Encounter

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Fri, 10 Aug 2018 03:21:00 +0000

Today had been a very stressful day. I was pissed, hungry and tired all at once. As I made my way through the busy Lagos road with the merciless and scorching heat that only help fuel my already over the top emotions, I had an encounter which i have to confess was the highlight of my day.

A female passerby coming towards me and going the opposite direction with male counterpart, looked me straight in the eye and said to me frankly without breaking her step,"I like your stature" and then continued on her way. For that split second I was confused on how to react,

after all this is Lagos,

but I managed to give her a smile and a half hearted "thank you", and for the rest of the day, I was not the same again.

...but as an over thinker and over-analyzer, which I am proudly...thank you,thank you hold the applauds...(no, continue ...keep them coming) it was all I could think of for the rest of the day. I thought about it from different views and perspective, plus weighing in my forever struggle with body image, I had even set up a debate team with panel of judges in my head supporting and opposing the motion that was made.

Despite all these, those words still brought a smile to my face each moment I think about them.

...and no,the fact that my encounter with her was just outside the psychiatric hospital with the possibility of her recently exiting said hospital is absolutely of no relevance...lol

Yeah, screw your sanity...pardon my French.

So I can say with these few point of mine, I hope I have been able to convince you and not confuse you that a kind word from a stranger could be very helpful in making a bad day a better one.

Thank you

...again, applause...

Pros and Cons of Living Alone

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Mon, 18 Jun 2018 23:59:00 +0000

So at the ripe age of 26, I was forced… lool not forced parse but nudged, to get my own personal apartment I.e to live on my own.

I had always envisioned this moment to be a rite of passage, like my family would one day gather around in wrappers with lit candles and drums for the official moving out ceremony, but to my disappointment, it was nothing like that. Although to be fair, I was partially living on my own as I lived apart from my family with other people, so I guess I didn’t qualify for the ceremony.

Anyways, I got a verbal quit notice or should I say a nudge which I myself have been working towards but all the same, at that instant, my world went quiet and everything was still for a split second thereafter it was thrown into a confusing chaos of getting a new apartment.

Now I have to inform you, the process of getting an apartment in Lagos is a huge frigging deal and full of stress. It is not as easy as parents usually make it out to be when we were growing, then you were just simply informed about the relocation just for the sake of your attendance during the occasion even at that it was not as if your attendance was optional. While I would have loved to expatiate about my ordeal in getting a new apartment I won’t at least not in this post…but I’ll say thank God for Propertypro.ng and NigerianProperty (#notanad #iwish)

So now I’m in my new place and I can’t begin to explain the emotions that come along with it…but I’ll try.

CONS

1. You have to do everything yourself

2. If you live with your parents or guardian I will like to pose this question to you…” how do you dispose your garbage?” and by dispose I don’t mean just putting it in a bag, I mean the route the bag takes out of your household to a safe government approved waste disposal system around arena…or some ish like that. well some might have the answer to that but to those who don’t I will like to inform you that these are the kind of things you will begin to worry about

"disposing of the garbage"

“plumbing”
”electrical works and bill”

“water bills”

“groceries”

“furniture”

The list is endless (lool…happy adulting), and if there is any glitch in having any of the above available there is no one else to point the accusing finger to apart from your damn self

3. Moving: I have always hated the process of packing up stuff into a box moving them to another place and unpacking the same box, its a lot of stress for me. Its almost a month now and I still have not finished unpacking. I still reach out to boxes and bags to get my body cream, spray and hairbrush every morning and as a female that is saying a lot but I don’t see it changing anytime soon…I think….maybe, maybe not

4. Decoration: when you were in your parents' house or in a shared apartment there must have been an image imprinted into your mind of how you envisioned your personal apartment to be like. Well, newsflash, it never ends up the way you imagined it and truth be told after the whole ordeal of gating a place, moving and unpacking you would not care how the place look anymore so far it's habitable and neat

5. RENT!!!: The big R word brings palpitations whenever it comes to mind. It becomes first in your list of priorities. You might start seeing yourself even shoving food aside just to satisfy the R monster

6. You are alone: goes without saying

PROS

1. Your ROOF!!!: while growing up we had been threatened a couple of times by parents or guardians with the “under the roof” statement. Right now you are under your own roof, although it comes along with some responsibilities you don’t mind because IT’S YOUR FRIGGING ROOF!!!

2. Personal facilities: Now you have your own personal facilities that you can use whenever and however you like. For instance, I don’t have to listen for the bang of the toilet door or the flush of the toilet to know when its safe for me to do my business neither do I secretly wait and count the use of the bathroom before I jump in to have my shower and hurry for my 8am appointment

3. Visitors: You welcome whoever you want to welcome whenever you want to welcome guest.

4. The Freedom: this point can not be overemphasized, the relief, the relaxation, the carefree attitude associated with getting your own place is unimaginable.

5. Your rules: It's your castle you decide what happens in it, what and who stays or goes. Everything is under your command…except for Nepa Light

6. YOU ARE ALONE!!!…and this to me is more than a breath of fresh air.

On Exercising

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Sat, 07 Apr 2018 17:29:00 +0000

A wise person once said, “Adulthood involves the vicious circle of gaining and losing the same 10-20 pounds”.

Since my most recent occupation status renewal as a stay at home humanoid, I noticed that I have gotten a little flabby but to be fair I have always been flabby, So I guess the more correct terminology here would be little more flabby. Though I discussed this with no one I was recently chatting with a friend whom has gotten to know about my new found sedentary lifestyle and knows for a fact how much of a miracle it would be for me to make an effort to go outside. It was during the course of our conversation this dude casually dropped the E-word (yes…exercising).

My first instinct was to ask what sort of brand of crack or marijuana he was smoking, but a lot of my willpower I had restrained myself for the sake of our friendship and politely said “NO, thank you. I think I would pass on that”

Few minutes passed as he still tries to butter me up and convince me into the dungeon of exercising but thank God for wisdom and persistence, I was able to make it out of that conversation alive and unscratched.

Fast forward to a few nights ago when my apartment experience a total blackout(its a terrible experience, especially when looking out your window and seeing other apartments lit filled with laughter and joy most of which are coming out of the TV set but yours is left there in the dark and gloom and all you feel is bitterness and sadness right to your soul…however, that is a topic for another time, another day, another season)

Back on track, it was during this trial of a night after having several sessions of lonesome thoughts, quite a number of epiphanies, multiple therapy sessions with myself. I decided to give it a try….a decision I wish I could take back. Laying on my bed, some “At home exercise” that I had come across on the internet began to come to mind. The first and easiest to recollect was the good old fashion sit-ups.

I geared up myself for the sit-ups… “one, two, three”…not so bad, I thought

…“ssssssssix, seee-ven”, the numbers were finding it difficult to escape my tightly pursed lips, my voice was getting weaker, my internal organs seem to be on fire with everything rambling around in a state of confusion, I almost gagged when I felt the bitter taste of bile hit the back of my throat.

“Ten!”… I exclaimed as I hit the bed in relief and for some moments I laid down there lifeless and paralyzed. I could not seem to move any muscle especially those around my abdomen. At that moment not only did I feel my tummy flat, it felt like the whole abdomen had been snatched away.

I laid there in the dark with a glimmer of the light ray from the fading lamp shining above my head and all I could think of was…”Never again….Never….Never again”.

Lets Talk LOVE

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Sat, 17 Mar 2018 16:08:00 +0000

Okay! lets talk about love. I know I am the wrongest person to try to give relationship advice or any form of advice for that matter. In fact, If I was asked if I have ever been in love I cant confidently answer in the affirmative this can be partly blamed on my hyperactive, over-analyzing brain, the other part can be blamed on my anxiety.

SO, what is love?…I may not know know what love really means but I know what love isn’t...

Love does not mean the feeling of butterflies in your stomach…that is just show some sort of gastrointestinal problem and you should try to check that out.

Love doesn't mean your heart skipping a beat when you see somebody….that can only mean an arrhythmia and I suggest you should go and see a cardiologist soon.

Love is not being a cockroach in anyone’s cupboard…child he just called you a pest and you are happy about that?

Love is not just the feeling of fondness you have for someone…you see, our emotions can be quite tricky you can develop fondness for anyone or anything that shows the slightest bit of attention towards you, and just because they are paying you some kind of attention doesn't mean love is surely involved

True, a lot of us has gone through some nasty relationships heck ,some are presently in some sham of a relationship because they don’t want to be alone that I can state for a fact is not love or in any way a form of love

Love doesn’t strip you of your identity or who yo are just to satisfy the other person…While I understand that for two pp to be in love three would be some compromising but I still strongly believe that your true love would accept you for all your positive and negative attitudes , you then begin to build each other up for the better.

There are a lot of relationship experts and coaches with their rules, tricks and formulas, but this simple motto I live by, which I advice you should too.

There is definitely someone out there who is just as dorky or weird as you are and is praying to be with someone just like you.

You might have to wait a lot longer if not forever…but to settle for less in order to live an unhappy miserable life would just be plain tragic.

Types of clothes in a woman's closet

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Tue, 06 Mar 2018 10:53:00 +0000

A woman’s closet is her secret armory, and similar to an armory, the closet is filled with different types of weapons and ammunition each of them having their own designated purpose.

A woman’s place is also a place of comfort and nurturing(yeah…quite conflicting.I know).It comforts and helps build up confidence and no matter how confused you can identify yourself as, your closet is always your closest friend that know who you truly are and understands all your emotions. It has actually helped you live through all your emotions and memories

Here are some of the types of clothing that can be found in most closets:

The Casuals: These are for casual outings on the weekends or when you want to go down the street to get some things. These are the ones for errands.They are the peasants of the group, they do all the dirty work that no one else wants to do.

Work Clothes: They always have their designated parking spots in the closet, always or mostly clean, well ironed, hung or folded in the closet. Their daily use does not degrade their ego. They give casual clothes the snobbish attitude because they have seen the inside of a well establish organization that casuals dream to see.

Special clothes: These are usually some sort of gowns or any other expensive clothing which warrants them to be treated with extra special care and almost like an egg because each time you hold it in your hands you still get dizzy thinking about the amount of money you spend on a single clothing. They only attend classy and expensive events, any outing invitation that does not involve sighting (or a chance) a celebrity or a crush would be thrown into the bin. They are the only ones work clothes seem to relate with only that these also give work clothes the snobbish attitude because they know how special they are.

The Hmm…Maybe clothes: These are the clothes that have tasted the rich and pampered life of being special clothes but times, season and changing fashion trends have sent them into bankruptcy and now they are in the Work clothes category but everyone knows it would not be long before they become one of the peasants.

The Natives: One peculiar thing about these sect is how devoted they are to one another. The bond they have is so strong that it is hard to separate the not so expensive native clothes from the expensive ones. They are a happy jolly sect which has seen both inside of an organization and high valued events but they still remain humble. Although not humble enough to relate with those peasants.

A born Worrier

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Fri, 02 Mar 2018 08:18:00 +0000

We all have in built characters and emotions that cumulatively define the kind of person we have and the personality we carry about, for a lot of us these emotions and characters are as a result of past experiences either positive or negative while in other cases they are habits we have learnt ourselves overtime, either in an effort to become a better person or when they come along “just by chance”

While there are people out there who are care and worry free with no iota of fear for the what might come next, I have to say I have to imagine how that must feel like, not in a constant state of worry, calculating, organizing and planning the next big move.

For me, I’m a worrier, as harmless and thoughtful this might sound it tends to go overboard sometimes…OK, a lot of times. Imagine having a mental cramp about things that you have little or no control over. Its time wasting and energy zapping, time that would have gone into channeling some energy into more productive activities are even kicking back and enjoying life is spent worrying on what is yet to come. While I have to agree that it is profitable to have laid out plans and blueprints for success, I also have to say that it is not of an advantage to take up worrying about the laid out plans.

And each time I want to ditch this filthy and heavy coat of worry I see myself picking it up again at the next available chance making my way back to the same rocking chair that makes a lot of motion with no movement.

When I mention my agony to others it is easy for them to drop the “Don’t Worry” slogan, some might even go a bit further and come up with a few other over-washed sayings which don’t seem to have any effect on my predicament. When I try to explain, all I get in response are facial expressions suggesting my questionable mental state or my ingratitude for life.

I don’t see myself as an ingrate or being mentally unstable (or at least I don’t think so), I just see myself as one who worries alot.

Nevertheless, I live my life full hoping one day I would finally succeed in letting go of this filthy coat and taking on life as it comes.

On being a writer

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Sat, 10 Feb 2018 08:48:00 +0000

Being a writer is not as easy as everyone think it is and it's definitely not as easy as what established writers make it seem. You might think its just about putting pen to paper, or in this case starting a blank new document of Microsoft word and putting down what ever comes to mind, but if writers were to do this all that would be put down would be utter gibberish that would make anyone reading the article feel a little concern for the author with the hope he or she is getting the uttermost care he needs-mental wise.

while i can't proudly call myself a writer (yes, i know i have shamed the writing community and most especially those of you who take time to read this dilapidated blog...again, i'm sorry), i must confess i often times feel a fraction of the pressure established writers go through, the deadline, the constant mental tugging to come up with something new, to be more creative and innovative with each new article, trying so hard to make sure the article is perfect or at least near perfect enough to captivate the audience and earn a few nods from colleagues. The pressure can be mind crushing, soul crushing and exhausting.
The mind of a writer is always tracking down new things and new ideas non-sop. Always on the edge for the new big thing. Mind you, when i say writers, i mean those who have devoted their a part the whole of their life and passion to maintaining the culture of intellectual words in whatever form they deem fit (be it prose, poem, playwrights, comedy, comics, political views or lifestyle) or other original writers who do not fit into a specific genre but like liquid they change according to their content (these are my favourite). i get stunned each time i pick up an article that is more than a page long, i am always flabergasted by the fact that one person really sat down and put together words long enough to fill two or three pages (to me novelist are another breed of people).
i aspire to be one of the established writers who can settle down and put together a two page article or even a captivating novel (yeah i like to dream big), but till that happens you guys will still have to put up with my on and off two or three-paragraphed articles ...(or should i call them articlet)

New Year; New You

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Sat, 20 Jan 2018 22:57:00 +0000

Its gradually coming to the end of the first of January and the most pressing question on my mind right now is: How are your new year resolution going?

Yeah, those bullets of goals you wrote down in so much excitement and hope, with a vision of a better day, a better you ahead of you this year.

Yes, those areas of your life you penned and promised to work on this year to create a better you. You might have gotten as far as to rehearse and recite those goals to friends and family and anyone in between with all hope and anticipation in your voice, mentally gearing yourself up to the process of accomplishing your goals.

Yes, what happened to the drive the fire that burned in your heart as you thought on each point and pondered on their accomplishment.

Oh, so I heard you have given up because the road to your destination was not as smooth as you imagined or want it to be, you gave up because the process seem to be too gruel-some and tasking.

Oh I see, you seem to have forgotten that nothing good comes easy. So because of the demands of the process you give in to the other easier and more dangerous option of giving up and letting go of your goals, letting the fire that once burn violently in your heart fizzle out and die. Leaving you in the same spot you were yesterday and leaving you the same way you were knowing fully well that with no movement the engine parts rust and rot with no remedy.

tough conversation

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Sun, 07 Jan 2018 17:43:00 +0000

Kids are fun to be with most of time especially when they are not yours and they belong to the under 5 age group. However, if you have one or more kids of your own (no matter the age bracket) I offer my most sincere condolences.

As of late, I got an inch closer to the rim of the adulthood tornado.... I had a conversation with a 5 year old...yes, and i'm talking about the full blown, long interval and nerve racking conversation.
as she made her way into my consulting gazing around in wonder, I smiled hoping it would be a touch and go experience for her...or the both of us.
Noticing my smile, (which in retrospect I admit was a bad call if you are not mentally,physically and emotionally up to the task), she asked "who's supposed to be there" referring to the well laid examination couch.
"the patient that comes to see the doctor", I replied with another smile digging my own grave further down.
"they come because they don't wash their hands, right?" she asked
I had to take a few minutes pause while I tried to wrap my head around the possibility of explaining to a five year old that washing of hands is not the only cause of disease. after several minutes, I resigned to fate and willing agree with my little partner.
"yes...yes", I replied
...and right there and then, it was like some kind of switch was flicked and our conversation went through numerous portals and time zones, most of which I was not conscious of but I struggled to brave through it all by giving some absent minded mono-syllabic answers and throwing in a chuckle or two in the mix.
After what seems like an eternity, she said "OK, I have to go now"
"OK, bye bye", I replied eagerly and waving with the same velocity of eagerness
"I enjoyed our talk", she said as she struts away snapping her fingers
...at that particular moment, I began to melt.

Its been two weeks now and i still feel giddy about our conversation and her last sentence.

P.S: HAPPY NEW YEAR
I'm sorry again for not posting in a while...I'm so so so sooooowwwwiiiiiiiii....

So, what's next?

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Fri, 01 Dec 2017 21:54:00 +0000

Step by step he felt himself drawing closer to the snapping point. His anxiety was getting the best of him. Focus was out of the picture as he hardly put his right foot before the left. The tension was rising like he had reached an unknown or invisible ultimatum. He felt his life drastically changing and all his efforts to pull it all together are shattering down to his feet.

“It’s all part of the process”

“life is full of ups and downs”

“this is what kings are made of”

He repeated to himself over and over again justifying himself of his actions hoping even if by the barest minimum his anxiety would be lifted, but the more he recited the more breathless he became by this time he abandoned his recitation and began pacing frantically and hyperventilating.

He had prepared for this moment, or so he thought until today when he suddenly awoke to the reality of its existence and from that moment on all his well laid plans and strategies to keep him going all went ablur and evaporated into the wind.

In a split second his life flashed before his eyes, bring to his remembrance all the moments he lived life to the fullest as though there was no tomorrow. Spending lavishly on unprofitable things that now made him sick in the stomach at the sight of them, they seem to be mocking him of his previous foolish actions and his present foolish state.truth be told he missed those days when he was able to live a free life, when his breathing was not a tool made to choke him

At this point he had found his way to the floor coiled up and rocking gently with tears running down his face. Still the big question keeps banging at the door of his brain and all his senses…

…SO, WHAT’S NEXT?

This is it

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Fri, 03 Nov 2017 21:32:00 +0000

This is it.

This is the moment we’ve all earnestly worked hard and waited anxiously for its arrival. We’ve sacrificed our sweat, blood and everything in between to arrive at this moment in time. A moment of monumental victory. A time that would be imprinted into our minds and hearts as part of our footprints in time.

The smell of joy, extreme excitement, pride and sweat could be palpated in the atmosphere…lots and lots of sweat, but everyone else could not be bothered by the unhealthy state of the steamy atmosphere around simply because of the extreme level of excitement they have attained.

The ceremony started, introductions were made, lengthy speech about the nearest future were delivered, overjoyed family members cheered on, and in the distance a couple of over-attached mothers let out whimpers both in pride and sadness because their little babies have grown up to be an adult recognised by the society as being responsible enough to hand the lives of dying citizens into their hands.

The proud fathers sat calmly in their assigned seat obviously vibrating in their seats from overjoy as they instant reset their factory setting as the “Father of a Doctor”, a title that seem to have none compared to it or higher than it in all existing realms.

Right behind them one could see the rest of the invited guests, both family and non-family members beaming with smiles shining bright like unadulterated diamonds. One glance at them and you would see straight through the smiles to their motif of dumping all their financial and medical responsibilities on the young budding soul who is being inducted. He will be their first point of call whenever situation arises that call for money to be spent or given out, or whenever they remember to engage the poor soul in a forced consultation about a skin tag they’ve had since the beginning of time.

All in all, this is the time we’ve all worked gruelling hard for and nothing can take it away from us.

Time-Out

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Thu, 05 Oct 2017 22:45:00 +0000

Would you live in a lonely cabin the woods with no electricity, no internet or any other form of civilization for 30 Days for One Million Dollars?

If you had asked me this question prior to this moment, I would have given you an answer (which would have been a big and emphatic YES!) in a split question without missing a beat.

However, as at the point I am typing this, I have been out of internet connection for 2 hours 12 minutes 28 seconds, and it has been nothing but a very trying time.

I was introduced to the internet at an early age (ish), and ever since then any situation that caused me to be cut-off from the internet always had me by the “insides” and had caused me emotional pain. Now don’t get things confused, I’m not one of those new generation people that spends like 23 hours of their day staring at their phone, or iPad, or laptop, or any other gadget or falling into ditches, pools or stumbling into other people while texting (although had stumbled to someone once or few times more, but in my defence it was late in the night).

On the contrary I am not, I spend as much time with my gadget as the next guy, assuming the next guy is a person who spends a moderate amount of time with his gadgets. In fact, I had openly expressed my distaste of this habit to any of my friends who are emotionally and mentally glued to their phone.

Then how is it that I feel this unsettling, nerve racking emotion each time I’m cut-off?

I seem to have narrowed it down to one thing...

INFORMATION! and the feeling of being in touch with the world out there, even when I’m snuggling in my bed avoiding human contact (ok, two things).

Even though the sound of the Whatsapp group chats notification and Instagram new post notifications makes me groan in irritation and frustration, but I had the assurance that whatever new thing that popped up, I would have first, or second, at worst third hand information about what is going on presently.

It’s the same way I had always felt while I was growing up (not that I have stopped growing, especially being a 5ft 1ish inches) each day I had to miss school. The feeling that my friends at school were having more fun being together, laughing and playing just ruins the rebellious victorious streak missing or skipping classes is supposed to have (yes, that is the secret to my near perfect school attendance score) and my mum used to say it’s better to go school even if nothing happens than to miss school and you are left imagining all the first class fun your friends are having without you (huh, I guess I just figured out the origin of this emotion).

So, what do I do now with this new found “extra time”?

It’s been 2 hours 36 minutes 52 seconds since my internet was cut-off, and I’m starting to feel dizzy…

Recipe for success

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Wed, 27 Sep 2017 00:20:00 +0000

Here I am again on the downward trend of my roller coaster ride of motivation.

One moment I am bursting with the feel of motivation streaming through my veins, my neurons calculating and organizing the best laid plans for execution of goals. My inner self is restless and anxious about the execution process, my heart skims and tumbles as I replay the process over and over again in my head making sure everything goes exactly as planned.

This excitatory reaction continue to build up until it reaches a crescendo where I exhaust all my energy in the planning process than executing process.

It all begins to dial down the moment one of my productivity tool is not available. The heat formed in my head out of excitation begins to cool down, my anxiety begins to take a better part of me as it slowly evaluates the not so pros and cons of my well laid plans.my racing heart becomes weary and tired of tumbling then it makes it way to a corner to pant and catch its breathe as my anxiety slowly washes away every footprint of the short lived affair I had with motivation.

A good example is o blog post which I had carefully formed and was in the nurturing bay of my cerebrum but was held captive because of the non-availability of a laptop (not that I could not do it on my phone but I wanted to have a laptop you know to make it feel perfect...ok, maybe you don’t know)

Its been a while I’ve had a laptop but this first post came to be after serial episode of ‘self-argument', 'self-convincing’ and ‘self-motivation.

Black Hole

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Mon, 03 Jul 2017 19:44:00 +0000

Do you have something to say?

Yes I do have something to say but whenever I open my mouth to speak I get lost.
Words shoot out of my mouth, i hear myself speak but the rationale behind each conversation always seem to evaporate.

While I struggle to get my point across, I look to the face of my listener trying to discern a tinge of understanding. But alas, more often than nought I'm given the blank stare depicting absolutely confusion.
I try harder and harder to pull the listener from the void black hole I had pushed him or her into but every attempt of that only drives him deeper into the abyss of the black hole.
After several unsuccessful attempts, I face the reality of whats going on, I throw in the towel on the conversation and simply walk away... Leaving the poor soul lost in the black hole.

A fresh start

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Sat, 01 Jul 2017 18:54:00 +0000

I need a clear head.
I need to start afresh.
I have to toss away the old emotional baggage of yesterday that you have ladened upon me.

It's time I move past this stagnation and move on to the next phase of my life.
You have had me under your spell for way too long, so much moss is beginning to grow on my once alive being.
Saying goodbyes has never being a pleasant experience for me. So I have decided not to say goodbye bye to avoid the risk of a future fruitless hello that would drag me down to my former spot.
Instead, I will walk away with my head held high, dragging along the broken pieces of my confidence, my emotions, my pride and hope, looking and walking intently forward to the brighter future I have in front of me waiting for the claim.
Oh, how I wish it was that simple because the minute you walk by me I find myself drifting towards you.

The Jealousy Streak

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Tue, 06 Jun 2017 22:11:00 +0000

One, two, three.... Fifteen; I counted the ceiling tiles for the third time.
For some strange and unknown reason I find myself in this predicament that has robbed me of my beauty sleep; I wonder why they call it beauty sleep.

I picked up my phone again, then suddenly without a fore warning my train of thought switched gear for another direction which eventually led to the big question being popped up.
"What am I doing with my life?"
...and in the space of minutes my mocking brain had spread out hundreds of examples of friends, colleagues, acquaintances, passersby, celebrities, even imagined persons, who at my age seem to be doing better at life that I am doing . They all seem to have it all figured out, nice cars, nice apartment, nice jobs, nice bod, nice yacht, stable relationships, heck some of them even had a twenty-year plan, while I'm struggling to have a one week plan.

Why don't I have it all figured out too?, why do I consider having a great body "The Perfect Mirage."?, why don't I have a fast metabolism and $10 million?, why am I not on a yacht cruising the horizon to a private Island with my Prince Charming?, why do I not blog consistently?, why does my leave have to come to an end?

Here I was in the middle of the night loosing my beauty sleep by using my life to play "the comparison game" with people who had a different starting point than mine, whose game set up were different from mine, and whose goals were different from mine.
As I try to stand my ground in the turmoil of crucifying thought that I found myself, each excuse I raise to justify myself and my present state seem to sink me deeper and deeper.
... After hours of sleep deprivation and self loathing, I cracked a smile...even if it's going to be the last time (for a while); Thank God I don't have to wake up early in the morning, who knows maybe I would skip the morning part all together.

Adult talk

noreply@blogger.com (Cimdhog) — Sat, 01 Apr 2017 09:26:00 +0000

Disclaimer : Readers discretion advised.

I had always been an early listener, according to the testimony of my mother, who had that time felt terrified of my one month old self listening intently and trying so hard to follow conservations around me.

I was not one who was keen on babble talk on useless topics.
While so many others would have looked forward to adulthood for so many reasons, I looked forward to having an adult conversation.
I mentally prepared each of my topics, clothed them in the overflowing cloak of maturity. Each sentence, each word, each syllable springing from my lips with maturity.
Now I'm a lot older sitting across to a friend and our topic of discussion is nothing but silly baby talk. I hear myself talk but each word does not seem to be clothed with overflowing cloak of maturity instead it sounded like silly babbles with shrieking laughter muddled up in the mix.
I may have not gotten where I want to be but I wait in anticipation of when my adult-talk hormones will start kicking in.