Everyone needs a breakdown.

Sometimes, I think I can do it all. I want to do it all. I need to do it all. Asking for help does not come naturally to me, nor is it  a skill I have mastered; but I am slowly realising it is worth practicing (I'm getting better). I have been at university now for three weeks or thereabout and at first I was fine; I'm always fine: I try my best not to complain, I sit and do my work when I can, I make people laugh, I try to remain emotionless and normal. It is hard, no doubt. The stress hits you like a high speed train as you try to cross the tracks just minding your own business. There is a lot to do and there are so many things going on.

I make lists, sometimes I write lists or just copy a list again and again throughout a day just to make sure i have done, and I do, every single thing I need to. I micromanage. It's an extremely efficient way to plan your days and ensure the smooth running of your life. If I didn't micromanage myself, I would be more lost than I already am.

I need a friend I can trust and confide in. I need someone who will understand me. I need friends like my old friends. I want my old friends. This is the thing: you can micromanage your life as much as possible; I made myself believe everything was going well when deep down I know it isn't. School and work wise I am fine; but emotionally, I know I am very messed up. I stay searching for something - and honestly I don't particularly know what it is. I am hungry for something. Starving.

They say everything happens for a reason.

I broke down today for a reason. I let it all out today for a reason.

I can write as many lists as I want. I can plan my life as specifically as I desire. I can try my best (85%) to control my emotions and stay calm and collected.

But the truth it, with everything going on, with where I am,

with the life we live

Everybody needs a breakdown.

At least once in a while.

It is like a reset button. You crash. You reboot. You reemerge.

It's a cycle.

Previously posted on other blog - October 7th 2015

Waiting on Painting

Basically,
I have been waiting for my nails to dry;
For a few minutes now I have sat,
I have sat thinking,
In painting my nails I have been forced to think.
Aren't girls lucky.
In trying to make my hands more beautiful,
I have been given the opportunity to sit solemnly.
This, I usually always do;
But now, I have to sit for a long period,
Unable to do anything else,
I like it.


I have just applied my top coat,
A layer of clear nail varnish created to protect the masterpiece underneath.
I have applied this successfully,
I have done my job.
Now, I live the next few days in hope that it does its job.

Top coat is that unseen layer of
hope, faith and love
that is required in living life as a
Christian.

You cannot see it,
You cannot feel it,
physically;
But,
You know it's there.

Tired.

I am extremely tired, sad and a bit lost (but finding my way), and I feel like I am gasping for air inside a vacuum.
I feel like a vacuum. An empty space of nothingness. I feel alone; completely and utterly in the sense - alone.
I am tired of feeling alone.
I am tired of being alone.
I am tired of faking who I am.
I am tired of pretending.
I am tired of trying to be so many different things.
I am tired of not being able to see clearly where I should be going.
I am tired of being stressed about the little things and the big things.
I am tired of feeling everyones pain when i don't even know my own.
I am tired of my work, my life and my discomfort in my body.
I am tired of feeling ugly, less beautiful, not worth it.
I am tired.

I went to church today after about 3 weeks of not attending, and I just feel a few things have been re-highlighted. You know when you re-realise that your lost again and you're just frustrated as to why this keeps happening to you. You ask yourself what it is you are doing wrong and what direction you keep missing or what it is you aren't seeing. It's extremely frustrating I know. I am extremely frustrated.
But, I guess this is life. You have to keep finding your feel. Take  deep breath, dive and remember that once in a while you have to come back up for air.
Resurface, take a step back, analyse, correct, fix, stretch; and dive back in.

Where is Happiness?

I need to be nicer. Not because it is the key to success or anything, but because it is the key to probably my own happiness. You see, being nice does not just affect the live of those you are being nice to, but it radiates the fact that you are an angel: you skin glows, your eyes glisten and you feel lighter. You see, being nice is like a weight being lifted off your shoulder. Imagine this: you are having the worst possible Monday morning, you do not want to go to work or school and you especially do not want to deal with other human beings, because well, it's Monday. So you go around the entire day with a slouched face and back and an angry look on your face; everyone around you tries their best to ignore you for the whole day, thus you are trapped in your own little bubble of frustration for the entirety of the day (and possibly week). That doesn't sound very appealing now, does it?
It would however be much better if you as a person, wakes up every morning, no matter what you may be going through or the deep stricken pain you are going through in your heart or physically, thanking God that you are alive and that you appreciate it, you decide, every morning that you will try your very best (and hardest) to be happy and to showcase the sunlight that radiates from within your heart.
This is still a battle for me, as I oh so easily get irritated, offended and annoyed - I hide most of this anger and annoyance with laughter and silly jokes whilst pretending to be happy. But, honestly, there is no point pretending. It may be hard at first to feel genuine happiness for the longer you appreciate life and learn to appreciate many more things and people, the easier it becomes.
The road to becoming a solar panel for happiness is most times tough, but I tr to remind myself, I am a medium for which some people may first be introduced to God, therefore I should not waste such a gift, job and opportunity showcasing my moody side, but I should ensure my happiness is always center stage, in order to bring happiness unto the audience, crew members and critics of the show.

Post Novel: Americanah

First things first, this was an amazing book. I feel like amazing is not a good enough literary word to describe how this book made me feel. Chimamanda transported me all over the world. She gave, what felt to me like first hand knowledge. She made me fully believe the experiences of these characters. The love story of Efemelu and Obinze jarred my heart open: it made me believe in love and it made me hate love. I wanted to dig deeper into their lives, probably even interview both protagonists in order to help me understand what exactly they were thinking. I wanted them to explain themselves, with me acting as a jury. I wanted to decide who was wrong, right, or at fault. I wanted to meet their parents and have a conversation, especially with Obinze's mother. She seemed to me as the ideal simple (not too extravagant like other Nigerian women), beautiful woman: smart and understanding of youthful love. I felt like even I could tell her anything and I wanted her to give me advice and ask me to translate my name for her. I was shaken by each individual character and almost surprised at how Chimamanda was able to give delicate details of each of them, helping us readers better understand their personalities and attributes. In whole, the book is one I thoroughly enjoyed and as usual for me (with great books) I did not want the story to end. Once I arrived at the last chapter, and I knew it was the last chapter, I felt as sense of loss. One criticism though, as with many books written by great authors, I felt the story ended too abruptly and it felt a bit rushed. I simply wanted more of an explanation and not just the quick 'and this is how the story ends' that you get with most books, almost making you feel as though the author ran out of time or the book was becoming too dense and she had to cut out what to her felt irrelevant - but I SAY THIS TO ALL AUTHORS, NOTHING IS IRRELEVANT! I SIMPLY WANT TO KNOW MORE! Give me all the juicy details! Please. The ending itself upset me quite a bit; not that it was such a shocking ending or anything, but it just left me saying "wtf really?!", and I was confused. To end on a less threatening note, after and while reading the book, I felt myself inherently speaking little phrases of Ibo like "ogini" and "ndo", which I'm not even entirely sure what they mean - Chimamanda did this to me.

7.03pm on a Sunday

Sometimes you just wanna slap your mum. 

But in my country, it's a taboo. 

- the angry daughter mixtape coming soon...