Memory Box

“A Sacred being in time she is”

 

In  time, her reflection will morph with space. Her mannerism is brisk yet mild. Like the whiff of camphor, memories flood in with no back window,

They stagnate there, never gliding away.

She is always quiet. Slightly hard-headed. Seldomly detached. Never over-bearing. No, never over-bearing. So that she may be worthy of love,

A dream that disrupts her tossing at night.

She’d watched herself grow without changing. Drowning herself in  knowledge and skills. Migrating to new world in search of peace. Sinking herself  in despair, deception and abandonment,

What a cynical admiral of love, she’d become.

At every stage of her evolution. she’d considered herself weaker, so the age to shed her harsh shell drew nearer

 

 

“But what use is counting time. When she, herself is a  representation of it”

 

One puff is all it takes to rouse her biggest critic, even then, the high was not enough to cleanse the crater that lay siege in her salty lungs,

Something else broke inside her.

Expunged of all conditions before the fall. She ponders the bitter sweet moment she lust for, but control eludes her. Hence, she shut her doors, her eyes, and her heart,

Never more to be opened again.

Finally folded her life into a memory box. A day at a time. Delved into past insecurities. Unravelled the spool of her wounds.  She’s sailed through a fluster of change,

And made a stop at every port.

Many-a-night she’d stare out the window. And wish upon Nebula. For abundance in strength. Maybe she grants her wish this time, maybe not,

Only the sardonic hands of time will tell.

They dubbed her, fallen phantom. She is  sacred for nobody taught her the subtle charm of humility. The heritage that cradles her venerated heart,

In her time, she will be extraordinary.

As she nestles her head on cotton clouds, she see the quaintness of this fiction-less mosaic . A moment she clearly wasn’t meant to miss,

The conditions that sets ablaze an estranged part in her precious box.

Earth to Mars

Make up a story

You can live in

Translate it into everything you see

The edgy night, the cloaked stars

It’ll ripple your life over and again

In perpetual cycle

of the present moment

Chiming to a hastened ocean breath

 

 

The less one can see

The more limitless

The mind is programmed to be

The harder it is to stay grounded.

What if I discovered a way

to do both

to go from Earth to Mars

What if.

A Painful Soul

“Scars

from battles hurt

as It should”

 

 

Way back when waking up every morning was a struggle (honestly not too long ago), I used to write into  my Journals aka my ugly notebook. I sometimes browse through them when I feel stuck.

My first journal is actually really depressing, I can’t believe the state of mind I was in back then, but there are some OK memories in there too.

This week I decided to reedit one of my poetry from it to prove to my readers who battle mental illness, and to myself that life can indeed get better. It is a journey, I still struggle and flop. However,  I am no longer that person, yet it is my story of which I’m proud 😀

Happy Friday!


 

Eyes

like alabaster

reaching into the darkness

of my soul,

I gasp.

 

Aroused

Inside me

A faux without doubt

Another life I’ve lived

stringing cords of distrust,

 

Or paranoia

the  definition of toxic

screaming out someone else’s pain

sliding through impressionable doom

unwillingly

 

The taste

like kolanut lingers

on my tongue

masking the chamomiley one

the ones before left

 

Scars

from battles hurt

as It should

yet I must separate the truth

from fallacy

 

Staggering

dysmorphia is crippling

oodles of bubbles ripple

through a heavy

fragile heart

 

let the  legs sink farther

quaking in unison as they bite dust

again and again

my soul will find your

darker soul.

 

Help.

friend, help!

For in solitude, I live

In solitude

I will dine.


 

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Love Only

 

” Love alone is the plug”

I’ve been dealing with  a lot as of  late. As a result, I have been meditating more to get me through. This phrase have helped me this week to counteract negativity, that’s why I decided I’d drop it  for anybody who needs to be empowered as well.

 

“There is no condemnation.

There is no judgement.

There is only love.”

 

I suppose the quote came as a result of  the fact that I have been too  hard on myself. I want to speak perfect Deutsch and I want to speak it yesterday.  It has been stressful on me because I held myself to a deadline that I think I may not meet.

On top of that, my sister got a tattoo. I tried to be as supportive as I could be when she told me she was getting one. Full disclosure, I didn’t know how to react or what to expect. When I saw the tatt, I kinda wished we would go back in time so I could tell her that it’s an absolute no from me.

These two  abstract emotions were what occupied my mind.  I believe in God’s holy book, and even more in his love. His love for me will manifest  in love for myself, and love for others.

For me that means that whether I meet my deadline or not, I can’t kill myself, in fact I ought to be proud of myself, and my sister. She’s young, maybe she will perhaps make terrible mistakes as I have, but she’ll bounce back even more so, as well.

For you, it could mean anything from self-love to world peace, whatever it is, I pray God’s guiding hands pull you towards the direction he wants you to go.

Namaste.

 

Know Thy Worse Self

We’ve all heard it. We’ve watered it. And it’s grown, and it’s growing faster than innovation. It is the voice of destruction. The one who wants to kill you. The one who will stifle you, and choke you to death without justice.

I’ve listened to it whine, all my life. It’s told me how senseless I am. That I’m too dumb to ever be taken seriously. I am too weird to ever have a meaningful connection. I am too abnormal, no body could care less if I spoke or not. It said, I might as well blend in with the bland wall and disappear. Worse still, no one would notice if I’m gone.

For a long time I committed to it, it’s presence was seethingly stark in my earlier works.

Most days, I tried to reason with it, I accepted it, then I pleaded with it. Then, I  just disappeared like it told me to.

For a very very very long time, loneliness was in the air I breath, it was all I wrote about.

 

It wasn’t up to me, it wasn’t in my power. I began to realise how innovative I could be, then how fierce I am.

It’s okay if no one understands what my poetry is about. It’s gibberish, but even gibberish has added meaning to the heart. It’s fine that I’m not a jaunty influencer that everyone can connect with.

I’m weird, I know and nothing can take that away.

Nothing, not even you, the darkest side of my psyche can conquer me. I fight everyday to know my worse self, for only then can I truly destroy the bitch.

Once I had my wings broken, now I’m clawing my way out of darkness.

Letting myself know that I’m stronger for being weak.


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Image: pinterest

Melancholy Monday

I woke up today with the cold  blues. It had been raining through the night and I wanted to just sleep and write.  Here’s what I came up with, Let me know what you think in the comments.

Cheers to Melancholy  Mondays!


 

I wrote a song for you

Though you will never hear it

I made up a story we can live in

Translated shadows into some thing quaint

If you stayed, you’d have seen it wane

 

The browning of a willow

Reeks of sage and olive wilting away

Giving up it’s power to photosynthesise.

The storm so raw and daunting

will never drown  our melancholic atmosphere.

 

You remind of the mortality of our being

The passing rain that never dries up.

When I write these personal stories about you, Us

I do it because it’ll transcend  life

I suppose it already has.


 

Image source: Pinterest

My Journey

 

Graduation week. I was fatigued, mentally, even before it began and although I turned to exercise to recuperate, It only seemed to worsen with physical stress. The only person this was harder on was my sister. My beloved Viktor was on an emotional rollercoaster, he was trepid with anxiety. Now some may wonder why graduation would be anything but Joy and relief,  while some of you might already have guessed it. My parents, the Ukuts, were coming to town.

Naturally, I was more worried about my boyfriend’s first encounter with my parents than I was about the graduation, to further complicate things, Nigerian tradition demands a formal introduction.

Dr Otuekong Ukut has made quite a name for himself because he is determined and strong-willed. He’s the type of person you notice in a room because of the panache way he carries himself, he can be rather obdurate—kinda like me. Then you have my Mum, Mfon Ukut, a torrid energetic Leo and a colossal bundle of fun.

To God be the Glory, both my introduction and graduation hit off well and I unknowingly achieved two important milestones in my life. I will definitely not be missing med school. Next week, I will go back to posting on Fridays. Here are some of the photos of events that took place these past days. Official Grad photos will be uploaded later.

arrivederci, Dr Idara-abasi Ukut. 30/06/2018

 

 

memoirs of Alex

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Metamorphosis

A blank slate.  I’ve hit a wall and I’m intently searching the recesses of my mind for anything worth writing, a scribble even. Really, it’s not that I’ve hit a wall. Quite the opposite actually, I am a dreamer, I hope my visions will never cease, but the block is irrefutable. Communication being a tool I am yet to master efficiently,  perhaps this block in itself is actually a call for notable change.

 

I admire bloggers that have mastered this skill I am reaching for. To turn a seemingly mundane story into something captivating. I need to be as good someday; hmm someday. A multitude of ideas is, in fact, vacant without the right prose, grammar; and that subtle finesse, the icing on the cake.

 

Looking at my week, It was chilled! felt chilled at least, but there is a turmoil. An elephant in the room of some sort. I am close to obtaining my degree and a prescient of transition tides  approaches;

what if these last steps are the hardest”

Sigh.

Nevertheless, even changes breed inspiration.  Here is a spontaneous piece;

 

 

A phantom in the room

An apparition of nightmares

I hear it wading

 

It follows me everywhere

from when I awake

in sweaty fits of night terrors

’till when my head drops

after inebriating on laudanum

 

An elusive illusion

remorseless as he is

Comes to steal

To destroy and kill.

 

Out of nowhere

A glint of light

Cherubic and luminous

Comforts me peacefully

Reminding me that this cul-de-sac

Will breed notability.

 

 

 

 

The Girl Behind Alexander

Life is a journey and twenty-four years today, I started mine.

Coincidentally, Memoirs of Alexander began one year ago, today. What are the odds, right?

  Lol. I stun, I’m a stunner. But seriously, being twenty-three came with such unexpected growth and awareness, both personally and in social settings.

I was and perhaps am still the woman who wants things done her way, and being twenty-three taught me that it’s okay to not be perfect. It’s okay to show my vulnerability and it’s okay to let others pick me up.  Honestly, this one was a hard pill to swallow and it is gonna be a looooooong journey, which is why I am happy I began now.

 

Another thing about Idara-abasi which you may not have sensed is,  on a scale of one to ten, my confidence is perhaps a 3.5.  In my previous age, I discovered, with the aid of Memoirs of Alexander, that this possibly stemmed from being sexually assaulted at a young age, (I was a sweet, quiet kid, y’kno, exactly what the pedophiles like), and my inability to process and communicate it.  You can find the blog post here. Luckily, I found a medium to voice that, and now, I’m blossoming into the woman I was always meant to be.

I let my uniqueness, creativity, and wits speak for itself

 

I believe in a strong mind, and to achieve that I need a strong body.  Together, they’re okay— but not great, because there is an even bigger part of this equation that I struggled with my entire life.

Faith in the Lord Jesus. Phillippians 4:13. Restoring my faith is perhaps my biggest achievement being twenty-three.

There are constantly two forces fighting in each of us, the Holy Spirit and the spirit of the world. Galatians 5:17. I was always aware of that internal turmoil and like Jonah, I fled from God. I wasn’t ready, I didn’t want to be.

I am neither astral nor churchy, In fact, I am mostly a skeptical and pragmatic person, but I am slowly seeing the light and perhaps if I let it lead me instead of being such a dang control freak. Perhaps, I will be ready.

So here I am a blogger,  an epistemophile and soon to be MD, most of who I am today was not my plan, which again reminds me that God’s plan and time are not the same as mine.

I am grateful to the ever faithful, God. I am grateful to my family and friends who stuck around through my know it all and isolation-depressive phase.

I am grateful for the chance to connect with bloggers, readers, & supporters. You guys will continue to be a blessing to me.

So there you have it. A very long piece about myself, lol. If you made it this far, thanks for your audience. I would like to interact with you more, let me know what you think about this post.

Till next time,  remember, we are loved.