Wanted: Best Friend

It is truly scary

when thoughts develop lips

then speak,

holding real conversations

like best friends, both mentally instabil

Whirlwinds trapped in physicality

How bad I want one

even loners need friends to survive

one who will be there a decade after

no matter the race, gender or preference

One I wouldn’t try so hard to keep

or give reasons to stay

one that doesn’t care about roots of my tangled past

and the thick thorns isolating my heart

so long as my ideas dance freely

and emotions bloom with every feeling

And maybe I’ve had one or five before

At a time I couldn’t value treasures

because being open is still funny to me

but I’ll ask the man above one last time

For a treasure who will stay

and the grace to not fuck it up.

Happy New Year

Rest your head on my bosom, camaraderie

for we’ve swam long rivers and hurdled hills

we’ve known each other for 10 long moons

and I hope we will 10 x 10 more

I’ve come to you in times of crippling doubt,

you’ve had my back when I was singled out

and even when I couldn’t think clear

you pulled me from the other side of fear.

Let you head linger on my bosom a while longer

as we greet the sun at the dawn of a new day

beginning at the first day of a new century

I bid you not to part ways

lets start together, hand in hand

Fill this vase with happiness and tears

Sip from each other’s chalace

we can stare out of the window on rainy days

Wait until the clouds are replaced by rainbows

say you’ll honestly be there,

in fairytales and in the real world

because If I were asked to tell my life’s journey

it would start with me and continue with you.

Happy 2020 Bloggers, Readers, Visitors. Camaraderie.


My first weeks in Austria. Although Austria is quite close to Hungary, about  4 hours drive, I’ve only visited the place in my dreams. 16 days ago,  I unplastered myself entirely from one country to the other in search of…. well I really don’t know yet.

My blindsight, as I’ve realised, is that I tend to forget to stop and smell the blooming roses. Last year, while I was squirming over my finals, regret settled on me like a morning fog. Turns out I never once patted my back for making it thus far. This attitude is what I aim to change .

God has indeed been wonderful, even in my  inconsistency. It took months of preparation, prayers, and learning Deutsch to get here and I couldn’t be more satisfied with the outlook on things. I’m learning to cherish the process, no matter how slow.

The last time I resided in a country, as opposed to touring it, I learnt a lot about who I am, and now Graz presents another stepping marble stone  to experience myself in a new  culture.

Since this is my first update since the beginning of the new year, I really want to thank my fellow bloggers and readers for the support. We ended 2018 together and practically walked  arm in arm into January.

The biggest lesson 2018 taught me is on  friendship, and bonds.  A random instagram video I watched back in December went.  “2018 is the year God revealed the true motives of people in your life”.  Fortunately and unfortunately, people I cared for, either packed up and abandoned ship or grew closer to my ever troubling waters.

Now I know that it doesn’t matter how long friendship is, what will be, will be. Stay tuned and  stay warm. Love, Idara.

The Age of Loneliness

A famous adage says, “True friends are like stars you don’t always see them but you know they are always there”.   Not to be a cynic but I think that quotes like this should be up for debate, and it probably has.

The truth about friendships is that it is in fact subjective.  It is based on factors such as the frequency of communication,   mutual activities shared, and most especially, the gains of the camaraderie, this could range from wanting a Yes girl/ wingman to needing company because we were in a place we thought we couldn’t escape from till we did. Eventually, that bond came tumbling down the wall of Jericho. Kinda like an endergonic reaction. Albeit, in group settings, the tension be slightly defused—Most times.

Fortunately for me, I have come across wondrous people that embodied the apparent role of love and patience. Unfortunately, I just came across them. For the most part, I have convinced myself that there is only a 7% chance that I have an antisocial disorder, but I can bet that 55% of the time, I understand people and will dissociate myself if ever I sense obscurity.  My problem is I would always rather be myself. I assume that is a fairly adequate reaction to bullshit.

However, as much as my ego-syntonic-self hates to admit, I will not be good for everyone, people could dislike me for varying reasons. The truth is that it feels like a stake is repeatedly rammed into my chest when friends leave, but my zen shouldn’t have to be sacrificed.

I  love love, and friendship quotes et cetera, but the cinematic wonder in storybooks and fairy tales is notoriously uncommon, for me at least; It may seem sad, but I’d rather reveal my truth than polish my face with deceit, after all, I’ve never been good with makeup.



Entree  nous

Viridian jewel in thine mouth

Vixen to the core

Consolidating solitude in a foyer

wishing a single prayer


Whom amongst us is pure enough

Confrontation being a con

Confluencing with the Ego

Trust never more  earned

A path all but one claim to walk


The turntable spins Cinema Paradiso

Quickening our gilded fix

Intoxicated with the age of loneliness

And all it’s fathomless wonders

An unlikely exergonic reaction.

The Tin Man’s Friend

The light from the tv illuminated the room

Alexander sat on the sofa. Family guy was on, the episode about the Nigerian prince that scams Carter Pewterschmidt. From the side of her eye, she caught a shadow sprawling in the cornfield. It must be the neighbor’s cat, that destructive fur ball that somehow finds its way into her yard at night. She went out there to chase it away.

There was no cat—or raccoon. She crept silently through the small field. Nothing. Half-way back, she felt a jolt that destabilized her, lurching her towards the mud beneath her. A voice above her startled her.

I….m, I am mighty sorry, I didn’t mean to cause you tumble ‘nd rumble.

She leaped into the air, almost instantly. She made out face made of metal, limbs made from old curtain rails, and a body which appeared to be recycling cans. His speech was slurred.

His metal face twisted into what she could only imagine was a smile.

“May I stay here? my home has been destroyed. Promise I won’t be a bother”.

His meekness spoke more than his demeanor. She was more amused than terrified.

“Where is your home?”

“The landfill”, he was pointing west.

Empathy welled up in her heart, “sure you can stay”.

“Mighty thanks, Ms., I will be gone by the break of dawn”.

She began to walk away, from what was inarguably the most bizarre encounter of her life.

“Have an oil spill rocky dream Ms. ….”, he trailed off.

“Alexander”. She added quickly.

He chuckled. ” That’s a funny name for a girl”

“I guess it is”, she played along, “and what is your’s?”

“I never had one”, he mumbled.

“I think I’ll call you Tin Man”, She said, stepping through the door.


There was no trace of Tin Man the next morning.

She went about her work conversantly, finishing with dinner in front of the tv. She found herself wondering if the man of tin had come back. Eventually, she switched the tv off and went outside.

There he was, playing with a cat, completely distracted that he didn’t even see her approach. Then he did.

“Ms.., I call him skittles”

Does he talk too? she joked

“I enjoy the company of furry animals. They are rarely alarmed by me”.

Speaking of company, do you have any family?

“No, I was made by a team of robotic experts at a factory in Sapele”. His head hung as though it was heavy. “But my units started to malfunction, early. They stopped producing me, I was worthless, then they abandoned me in that landfill”. He again pointed West. “I built the rest of my body and my home from scraps”.

“I am not Conversant with my primary function”, he added.

She was amazed, She’d heard of Artificial Intelligence, but she’s never heard of an articulate, self-building robot. Her lips grew into a grimace

“I have no family too”, she admitted. “Just an old tv, and a journal”.

He frowned.

“Mighty sorry to hear that, Ms. I was programmed to believe humans ain’t supposed to be alone,” His eyes lit up almost immediately, “perhaps I could be a friend to you”.

She grinned. “would you?”

“It would be my pleasure”, he retorted

And so they sat in the yard under the night sky and be bid her well before the last vanishing star. He’d come back every night to be with her. Thus, the queerest of bond was forged between a raggedy tin man and a lonesome writer.

Image source: ailustra blogspot.hu/2012/08/homem-de-lata-ti-man.html

Ode to a friend

With my eyes, I saw Orion

sculpted jawline, strong chin

Intelligent & prideful

 we’d compete, and you’d make it to top three


I wasn’t fair to you,

 just like he wasn’t fair to her

 I’d been a bad friend

my arrogance lead me

to the point that even when you

 were at your humblest,

 I turned away from you.


We should talk more

 I will call you more,

 sorry, not now. Not today.


 Then I see it

 tears trickle down, down, down

 I called. 

only this  time,

you’re not there to pick.

 You never will.



If my heart implodes,

it would be because

I couldn’t stop it sooner

from drowning.

Lost seemingly, without you.