a week in my mind and you won't want to go home...

Tuesday, 31 March 2009

Song of your Life

10:51 Posted by Sir Scribbles 3 comments
If you place your hand on your chest you feel the Rythm of your heart and if you listen hard you'll hear the song of your life. Every day you're alive a new verse is written and your lifestyle is the chorus. Some songs will make you laugh, some will make people cry, some will bring love and some will spark hate. Your song affects you and those who listen to it, what song are you singing and whose listening to it?

Duality of insanity

10:50 Posted by Sir Scribbles 1 comment
The world sees "Insanity" as a negative state of mind and those exhibiting it as "Mentally unsatble". However, to a "Mad man" the world is "mad" and he is the only "sane one". If we were all "mad" and there was just one "sane" person we would consider ourselves "sane" and the "sane" person "mad". Who then has the right to judge "sanity", is it the "mad" person or the "sane" person who, technically, have equal rights. Afterall we are in some context either one of the two or both at once.


10:47 Posted by Sir Scribbles 4 comments
To say someone is beautiful is to say the perosn is immortal, beauty doesn't die, not with time or age. Beauty is infinite and immortal and even after the physical presence of a beautiful person expires its essence lingers on like the constant scent of a perfume, a remnant of the beauty that was once physical but now intangible. Immortal even after death, a beautiful person therefore never dies but lives forever.

A stroll through the neighbourhood offered me an encounter which I am yet to explain elaboratly, as at this moment this is all I can say:"The constant bass from my earphones distracted me as the sweet smelling breeze blew past me. I then took a second look because my first was unintentional and saw the most beautiful song ever wriiten, My eyes were humbled for they couldn't stare too long, I looked away in respect. Respect because I imagined a stanza for her feet, a chorus for her body, a note for her face and a wonderful tune for her hair. What a beautiful song she was....

Till this day I know not her name but when the memory resurfaces I cannot but wonder if I'll ever see her again. She is stuck in my mind singing forever and that has made her Immortal

Wednesday, 25 March 2009

A day in the life of the Scribbler.

08:59 Posted by Sir Scribbles 1 comment
This is a true story but the names have be changed and some details omitted

Now I'm not usually this Ill-lucked but today just seemed to be one of those days where every mishap I'd considered and avoided throughout the month staged a coup to wreck one day for me.

I woke up with a headache, how does one wake up with a headache? after a few minutes I decided not to take medication...it was too early for that! "It's raining today, how nice" I thought sarcastically. So I did my morning exercise which involved a run down the stairs to the Loo, then a power-walk to the kitchen, a push up to wrap up the kitchen bin and then a short jog outside to toss the bin bag in the rubbish bin. Apart from the headache my day proceeded as usual

"Robert!!!!" my Friend yelled

"Wetin be that?" I answered

"Guy u go help me do something today o!"

"Wetin be dat?" I asked walking back into the house and heading for the sitting room.

"Shey u dey comot today, U fi' branch Tesco pick up some stuff for me?"

"When dis one start wey u go dey send me message guy? How much u go pay me?" I asked jokingly bt with a stern look on my face.

"Behave urself jo! I go give you my bus pass nothing do you, U fi' waka go anywhere today but abeg just help me collect my stuff for Tesco"

"Okay no worries" I said

The rest of the morning went as usual, the rain had stopped and by 2pm I headed down to Tesco. At Tesco I walked up to customer service and told them I had a package I wanted to pick up and handed them the reference number my friend gave to me earlier.

"Okay that's alright" the man at the counter said "I'll just need proof of Identity and proof of address. A passport, drivers licence of bank statement would be just fine"

"Oh!" I said "I haven't got my passport or any of the other stuff you just mentioned on me at the moment, would a student ID card be alright"

"Well has it got your name and address on it"

"No" I replied, "Just my name "let me get it for you"

I put my hand in my back pocket reaching for my wallet, pulled it out and rummaged through Bank cards and call card. I found the ID card and handed it to him.

"Sorry sir this won't be enough evidence for me to hand the package over to you, U see the delivery tag has an address on it and a phone number and if you don't have any proof on you matching this address I'm sorry I won't be able to give it to you"

"oh! that's alright" I replied "I come back some other time to pick it up then"

"Sorry Sir, today is the deadline for collection, if you don't collect it before the store closes at 7pm it'll be returned to the depot and your money refunded...and it's 5:25 already"

I was already getting cranky, "Na help I kon help pesin oh!" I though to myself. I pulled out my phone and scrolled though my contacts to find my friend's number. I dialled him and lifted the phone to my ear....

"I'm sorry, You do not have enough credit to make this call"

I was tempted to swear! I turned back to the man and pulled the most pathetic of beg faces you've ever seen. I'd used this on Lecturers to get term paper extension, bus drivers to get one stop hops and most of all my parents to get cash. The man stared ta me and said "You know what I'll give it to you this time but next time you have to show ID and proof of address you hear?, I need your phone number though, just in case someone comes around asking for this package then the store can contact you" I nodded in acknowledgement, scribbled my phone number on the sheet he gave me, picked up the package and left towards the closest bus stop.

On my way to the bus stop my phone rang. I pulled it from my pocket and the caller ID read "Call 1". I answered it and the voice on the other end was familiar.

"Ah Mr. Robert it's Ted from Tesco's customer service"

"Oh! Hi Ted, wats up?" I replied

"Uh! I was wondering did u have a buss pass on you when you came into the shop?"

Till this moment i can't understand why I said No.

"Well you see we found a buss pass on the floor a moment ago and I was just wondering if it belonged to you but since you say you didn't have on one you then no problem...."

"No! no! no! no!" I screamed, "sorry I did, it's blue and has got a one week free pass on it"

"But sir you just said you didn't have on one you"

"Yes I know, the pass is not mine, it's for a friend, he lent it to me so I could get around today, can I come pick it up?"

"I'm sorry sir but I'm afraid I can't give it to you, the only way I can help you is to call the transport office report it. If your friend calls them later and quotes the pass' number then he can claim it"

"Oh my God" I exclaimed "I'm coming back to the store"

On my way back to Tesco it started raining and by the time I'd gotten to the store I was drenched, panting and vexed. I pulled the pity face again but Oga was having none of it. He said he couldn't give the pass to me because there was no way he could prove it belonged to me or my friend. He then asked for my friend's name, I told him and he called the transport office again.After giving them my friend's name he nodded a few times with an occasional "Uh hun" he dropped the receiver and told me the office had checked their system and said the card was not registered to that name.

"What a day" I said "Okay u know what, I'll just get my friend to come over and pick it up" I was tired so I walk and annoyed so I just got on the next bus home.

On the way home I started to thought about stuff that might also just go wrong today and were in my power to avoid or be prepared for. I thought about my house keys and remembered putting them in my pocket, I thought about the stuff I picked up from Tesco and the carrier bag was in my hand, I thought of other things and concluded that I had no worries.

Front of my house and I'm frantically searching my pockets for the keys, I felt coins, receipts even gum but no keys but I remember putting them in my pocket....or was that when I went to throw out the bin...Oh! my God it wasn't when I'd left the house to Tesco that I took the keys but when I went out to empty the bin! I was tempted to swear, only one option was left as I stood outside in the rain....I had to meet the Turkish guy.

The Turkish guy owned a shop near our house and the backdoor of his store could give me access to our front door (I'm not saying how and why). The only problem was the Turkish guy is always pissed, I swear I've never seen that guy smile, always boning. I walked into his store with my bags and dripping wet. He muttered some things in his language and I knew ha had just Yabbed me!...I pulled the pity face again and asked him to open the door for me...surprisingly he did without hesitating...as I walked past him through the door I heard him say a few more words in his language....That's why I'm going to google the translation of the "N word" in Turkish. It had been a horrid day yes but the climax of it all happened when I told my friend about his buss pass and he started yelling about me being careless....I was so pissed that I threw his package at him and headed to my room. On my way up I asked him what was in the package that had put me through all the crap I'd faced today....he smiled and said "It's soap, You know I have sensitive skin?"....I was tempted to swear....and I did!!!

Online etiquette

02:40 Posted by Sir Scribbles 2 comments
The number of pple who sign up and are constant patrons of social networking sites these days is through the roof. I won't bore yoou with the statistics (That punishment is for my Lecturer who gave us the assignment in the first place) but I doubt u won't be surprised when you see them. I don't deny being a social networker myself, an avid one for that matter, how else could I find old class mates and keep in touch with friends so easily.However, recently I've seen and heard lots of pple criticising these sites saying that they make pple's private things public and all what not. So I decided to compare online social networking and life in reality if I may call it that and My case study, FACEBOOK.

Now I'm a member of Facebook as well but somethings just seem to...tick me off. I'll talk about 2 aspects of facebook and compare them to relatively similar acts in real life. Facebook's Wall, Status updates.

So facebook's wall, I liken it to a cast, like the one u wear wen u break an arm lol! U know how pple like to sign on casts of friends with stuff like "Hope it heals soon" and "I told u to break a leg and u did?", well that's facebook's wall for you. You write on my wall and all my friends can see what you wrote. You say "Hi wats up?" on it and everyone I know now knows u said Hi. So in reality if I saw a friend of mine on the street and waved to her screaming "Wat's up!?" a facebook wall representation would involve me calling, texting and emailing everyone I knew telling them I saw you on the street, waved and screamed Wats up?. That's even on the soft side. Some tend to go the extra mile in Facebook wall writing and say stuff like "Saw u on FB and u looked familiar, what sec. school did u go to?". It's a simple question with the wrong querying technique because I'm sure the person's inbox is just a few mouse scrolls away and it wouldn't take anything to substitute the wall writing u intended to do for message sending....etiquette pple etiquette!

Next is Facebook's status updates and in my opinion the most abused feature of facebook because of the variety of pointless things you find on it. I may be guilty of this social infringement as well but I've seen worse, "I'm tired", "I'm sleepy", "I love him", "I am praying"...What in flippin' name is that about? In real life would u tell everyone you know that u were sleeping or u were feeling tired. If the brain was a hard disk and u were connected to facebook do u realise how much space would be wasted on irrelevant data. Imagine u owned a T-shirt for everything u ever felt, emotions et al. Would u want everyone to see them....maybe some of them but not all. C'mon pple the aim is to keep urselves connected and happy not tormented and frustrated. If u feel tired, rest, if u feel sleepy, sleep, if u feel the need to talk to God keep it between U and him but never consider a facebook status update in between.

Facebook users aren't all that bad though. As a blogger I'm writting from my own experience and perceptions even though it's hard for me to imagine anyone who will be fascinated by a friends inability to sleep referenced in a status update. I just think we should just keep the private things private and the public things public...maybe I just have a different view on the social networking thing but I doubt I'm the only one. don't get me wrong social networking is a blast when U r at ur online peak but there comes a time when u reach your saturation point and then all the crap u never noticed before pops up everywhere u look on your profile lol!. So if u think facebook's not cool then that's ur opinion and I may have given you even more reasons to back up ur argument but as for we who are already snared I say balderdash...Facebook rocks lol..Ironic isn't it?

Tuesday, 24 March 2009

Vanity's Mirage

16:03 Posted by Sir Scribbles 8 comments
This is a true story but the names and locations have been changed to protect identities...plus I don't have enough money to withstand a lawsuit lol!

Now this is my first attempt at blogging and I come from a background of constant online chatting and emailing so if u see 'nd' it means 'and', '4' is 'for'...u get the picture.

Okay it starts with a girl, we'll call her Rita, I never knew Rita personally but I always had this idea of the kind of girl she was in my head. In my own little world I saw Rita as a spoilt, slutty, Daddy's girl. She wore the designer clothes, the gleaming shades, the killer handbag nd the shoes to match. Rita could never be seen chatting with the Nerds or the socially impotent, Never! If it wasn't the guy with the biggest car it was the guy with the biggest pocket and these were only substituted by the guys with enough guts to initiate a conversation, I didn't have such guts. I'd never heard her voice and kept my distance I thought "Well, I no reach dem so why should I even bother". Sometimes I'd be chatting with a bunch of friends and her name would come up, automatically I'd tune the rest of the conversation out. I'd have my own lil' conevrsation in my head, "Rita is just a baaadddd girl!, I bet she sleeps with all those guys I see her with, plus she has to be an Aristo'. Just by looking at her you'll know, all dat money and you say it's her Popsy who gave her?...Rubbish!. I bet she'll do anything for an LV bag".

By the time I was done my friends would have changed the topic and it usually meant they were talking about another girl. One name always echoed in my head when they mentioned it and that was Pamela. Pamela was God's gift to mankind. Like Rita I didn't know Pamela personally but I saw her as what I call "Wifey material". Calm, composed, intelligent, sweet and a true lady, whever she walked by Guys never stared for too long, not because she was unsightly far from it but out of respect. I hated not knowing her and felt proud not being associated with Rita. "If all girls wer like Pamela we would still be in the graden of Eden" I said to my friends one day. They all agreed and bear in mind none of us knew any of these girls personally.

I remember one day I stood in a queue waiting for the evening bus and behind me stood Pamela, I felt numbed by her presence. Her hair spelt like vanilla and the gentle breeze that evening didn't help by blowing the scent towards me. We got on the bus and I sat behind her, a seat I thanked the lord for blessing me with. The bus drove past a group of parked cars and I spotted Rita, ostentatious as always locking her posh car and tossing the keys into her designer bag. I hissed, not to loud but loud enough for Pamela to hear. She turned, I bowed my head "Mugu she is looking at you, maybe na b'cos I hiss, dullin guy look at her jo!" I looked up and saw Pamela staring at me with a smile on her face. I smiled back and within 5 minutes we were sitting beside each other joking about trivial things and having a laugh. She said she was going down to the library, "What a serious girl" I thought. She asked me to join her, I said I had no books with me, she said it was a Library and we both laughed.

We'd been sitting beside each other for almost 30 minutes, an occasional comment would trigger a giggle between us but our silence said it all. She flipped through her notes and scribbled on a blank page, tore it out and handed it to me. I opened it and there, scribbled in blue ink, in the most beautiful hand writing I'd ever seen were the words "I kinda like you". It had taken me approximately 1 hour and 22minutes to get my future wife to tell me she liked me "another hr and we'll be walking down the aisle" I said to myself jokingly. She stood up and asked me to help her get a book she always used for her coursework but was always on the top shelf. We walked, her in front, to the back row of the book shelves and in between two shelves. She pointed at a red cover book and I stood on my toes to retrieve it....and then the most humble, homely girl on campus grabbed my nyash! The act was so sudden that I nearly screamed. I stared at her puzzled and she immediately grabbed my neck and planted the wettest most cherry flavoured thing I'd ever tasted on my lips. I wanted to continue, never stop, but this was Pamela, Wifey material, good girl Pamela. I pulled away confused and reluctant and then She whispered to me in the most angelic of voices "If your scared someone might hear us don't worry, nobody ever comes back here, trust me I know". I wanted to do this, she'd already left a sweet aftertaste in my mouth, "Don't dull o!..is it your first time? don't worry I'll be gentle" she said again but I couldn't, I was too confused to function in the way she wanted me to and so I ran. I ran out of the Library and straight to my room. I lay on my bed thinking, what had just happened? I asked myself. Pamela?....how can. I asked my self this question for 3 years and the words "trust me I know" echoed in my ears everytime.

Graduation day, I sat in my gown staring at my certificate. I'd done my best no doubt and now it was time to face the big bad world. We'd been making fun of a guy who fell down while climbing the stage to receive his certificate. It was time for the Merit awards and The Chancellor announced that a very special award was to be given. The award was for a student who had shown exceptional character and academic excellence while at the University. I wondered who it would be "so many names came to mind, even Pamela's" We all sat back waiting to hear who it was.

"We have decided to announce this first unlike our tradition because we feel this student has always been in the fore-front of all her colleagues...and ladies first"

The congregation laughed.

"And the award for Best student graduating set 08 is Miss Nkechi R. Tunde-Martins"

We all clapped, I turnerd to my friends and asked who it was but they couldn't hear me over the loud cheers coming from all present, I clapped nonetheless. From the aisle adjacent to ours I saw the recipient, she walked towards the stage and I clapped even harder as she got closer . I hadn't recognised her while she approached the stage and was a bit curious but the large videoscreen above turned my curiosity to confusion. "Nkechi R. Tunde-Martins?" I muttered to myself...."Rita!" I said as I stopped clapping and turned to my friends asking if it was he same person we all knew. They next 15 minutes saw me go from confused to amazed to foolish as my friends elaborated to me how Rita had been a First-class student from Year 1 and the Class represenaive of her course. She was the daughter of a widow whose husband and willed everything to her and her 4 brothers all of whom were students at the University. "Her brothers? The ones we see talking to her and driving around in those big cars?" I asked "of course" they replied, "Did u think they were her boyfriends?" They all laughed and I joined in not for the same reason but as a facade to cover my overwhelming guilt and foolishness. Vanity had played a trick on me, just like a mirage.