I woke up with a desire to write up a post...
Yesterday one of these good ideas for a blog post crossed my mind. It was supposed to be something cool. It was supposed to be a short post but it was to be a nice one.
Yesterday I had it all planned out, today ... * well you get the message *
I saw all the comments I was going to get, I saw Ibhade, I saw Myne, I even saw that new girl blogger that had before now never commented or read my blog. I saw her face light up when she read this post and I heard her ask herself " How did he know ? ". I smelt her make-up ... or what was left of it. She had hurriedly put it on just before she left school - them no dey tell person where im go meet im future husband :D ...
You would ask how I know, it's a girl ??... well I just know. I know a lot of things like how water turns to vapour when the sun or any other source of heat, heats it up. I also know that alcohol could alter your behaviour.
I know that Papa Chinedu didn't leave Mama Chinedu with his "clear eyes", No, there was that coloration that hadn't been there, in his eyes, the day he brought her home on his motorbike. He had wanted to hire a car for the day, their wedding day, but she had refused, she talked about one naira and one million ....????? * I doubt she had "clear eyes" too * I doubt that she only listened to the praise and worship tapes produced by her church choir. I doubt a lot of things ....
I doubt the sincerity of Goodluck Jonathan and if you like you can sue me but I doubt that Fashola was a model kid growing up. I'm certain he beat other kids at football and laughed when he dribbled them and they fell down. I'm almost certain he stole 25 kobo from that part of his mama's wrapper where she ties money. I don't know what a model kid is but ... * fill the blanks *
About filling the blanks, it's just like this time where I filled in for Chinedu, yes that Chinedu, the one that got sent out of the boarding house and his parents had to relocate so he could make it to school early everday. That Chinedu that didn't realise the sacrifices his parents made for him. The one that talked to his mother in a tone I considered too "oyinbo". If I had ever tried that with mama gfunc, it's certain this blog would never exist.
This blog where I write down my thoughts and thoughts of what I would like to think of...This blog where I don't often put up posts as much as I should. This blog where I've come to write a post and I think to my self
" I woke up with a desire to write a post ... "
Il y a 4 ans