Hello ladies and gentlemen,
I am not excited. I just feel like I've done something right. I satisfied an instinct and I feel somewhat fulfilled. Imagine finally finding a convenience to take a pee-pee and release that bladder that is threatening to explode; hmmm, what a relief!
This is me coming out, getting stuff out there, sharing. Getting on here is like saying: "Hey! This is me. This is who I am. You can take it or leave it." So ladies and gentlemen, it's
Me and My Words
Someone once said that books are blocks. He made us sing it. It became our mantra. It sounded cool at the time. I was in high school then. Grown up now, I think that was so small a truth. Books are way more than just blocks. Books are like buildings. Words are the bricks, blocks, etc, with which these structures are built. These structures are put together to form big cities and worlds in our minds. Reading books is like venturing into these buildings, exploring their halls, hallways, ends, nooks, crannies, etc, and taking in what each one has to offer. The more you read, the more these buildings are put together to form these great cities of the mind. The *manier the books you read, the *bubblier your city would be; the stronger the books, the *stablier your city; the more informative the books, the more advanced your city, and so on. The world you build in your mind determines to a large extent, your outlook on the world you live in.
That same someone said that readers are leaders and that's probably right. But I say that readers are writers, or at least, potential writers. Writing comes by reading and reading by everything in black and white. If you have ever written anything, then you must have read something. There are no two ways about it. You can observe and learn, you can even comment orally, but if you are ever able to put something down in eligible black and white, then you must have absorbed something in black and white. Who was the first man to write? What did he read? That's a question for another day, but every other person after him had to go through this process. QED.
If you ever get to the point where you are able to string your thoughts in a binding sequence, to play around with words, to paint a picture so clear it could as well play back in the mind's telly; to tell a story so well your audience might as well have been there when it happened; to create a story so binding we wish it never ends; to even spin lines and verses so tasking; long or short, rhyming or not; that stretch and expand our imaginations in a bid to capture the intended picture, then you must have read a whole lot. And when you read that much, your mind bubbles, the contents make rumbling noise and threaten to explode; and explosion is imminent if you don't let it out! How do you run from the things that run through your mind? The faster you run, the faster they run after you. So, to maintain sanity, I write.
If you are an avid reader, you must be a writer. If you read a lot, you must scribble a lot. There is simply no way in the world you can interact that much with words and not come across a set that your mind will always want to remember. NO WAY!!!
Then if you are a word lover, your case is specially critical. You take notes because your mind will always want to remember those expressions that tickle your soul in the way that only words can. You don't watch movies just to get the story, you strive to hear every word. You pause movies to actually take time to laugh at, wow at, cheer at, clap at, and appreciate word plays. When you listen to music, lyrics get to you because more than the beats, you connect with your lovers: words. Figures of expression are magical because they transport you to a realm that only word lovers comprehend. Every time you absorb anything at all that was created with linguistic constructions, you are in a deep intercourse with them. Not every construction will touch your spot but the ones that do have you moaning in utmost pleasure. Note-taking is you taping your soundtrack because you want to relive your orgasms. And because you are made for this intercourse, it never stops. Your passion gets to the point where words cum together in your mind to form beautiful constructions that are as alluring as the ones that seduced you. It's a match made in heaven!
Writing is you bringing these constructions to life and rearing them to grow. The constructions keep coming because you keep meeting with words in whatever language system(s) you mingle with, and it doesn't matter what language systems you mingle with because systems don't discriminate, you can only know/love some more than the others. Your constructions grow in beauty, grace, style, form, and excellence. They mature and find love in some other word lovers. They are eventually ready to penetrate. What a glorious unending cycle!
These constructions are made for love. They should be loved every second, every minute, every blessed day! But they are as patient as they are loving cos they wouldn't force their love on anyone. You have to be ready too; they need to know you want them too.
This is me putting my constructions out there to reach out and find love because they are very much ready to penetrate. If these constructions are made for love and are ever searching for it, and I'm responsible for their happiness, and you, my dear readers are made for this intercourse, then who am I to put asunder to this glorious match?
Readers are lovers. If words are yours and you are theirs, then you should love with no doubt nor fear. My dear readers, welcome to love nest. Love, even when you feel too sick or too worn out or tired. Love, even when it feels like you can't love anymore. Love until there's nothing left to love, and then, come back and love some more. Here, love is in the air, you'll love without ceasing.
Welcome to here: my words arena; fullness of my mind in countless words, my words playground, my words board, my words table, my words court, my words track, my words pitch. I manoeuvre these words to fit in your heart so well that your heart moans an "aaah!" of relief. I bridge the gap between you and these words as I finesse them with such precision that they can't but fill the pockets of your very soul. Here, my imagination jumps up and down, dashes back and forth, stretches and swings with such vibrant energy and passion that their words do nothing but punch through the basket of your mind; words race to your heart, even as it holds out in anticipation; they get to it and hand the baton, then your heart starts racing. I juggle and dribble these words so fast and they shoot into your heart's post with such speed that you don't see them coming. Yes, these words are the loving winners of your heart.
You'll find these words in anything drawn from the numerous ideas that bubble in my head. You know how Zuckerberg asks what's on your mind? Here's simply a link to what's on my mind, where I get to share with you the things that go on in this little head of mine: the memories, the happenings, the conjured, and all the figments of my imagination.
Welcome to here: my mind's gallery. If words paint a picture, then there are no regulations, no limitations, no restrictions, to the pictures your mind's eye can behold through these words.
You'll find works in the Igbo, English, French, Engligbo, and Frengligbo languages, because I am just trilingual for now. Other systems will be added as time goes on and you will know when it happens. Genres commune here. Essay forms meet and merge here. You might even find that there is a genre/form you never knew about. Here's like the future : anything can happen...
Have 💝 yourselves 💏 a ❣️ very 💓 lovely 🌹 experience. 😘❤️😍💋😘
