Different

Must we let society dictate our fate?

Must we allow our tumultuous mind gain control?

What seed could sprout approval from your heart?

what is it you’re afraid to  give up, or the world may take away?

It all begins with one person. One mind. One entity

Yes it begins with  who you believe you are

Time and again we draw ourselves towards the fear of unconformity

When we were truly born to stand out

If only I’d know it all along

I threw away my beliefs so no one would think I was conceited

I could be ostracised, as a freak of nature

But I was never meant to be her

and she was never meant to walk like me

and we were never meant to think alike.

We are divergent and that works better

so what is it you believe in?

shout it from a rooftop today.

 

the Middle East: Sept. 29- Oct. 5, 2018

I was going to write a post surrounding Christian Ronaldo’s alleged rape accusations, until I saw this.

The world is in such a mess right now and none of us had the option to choose which part of the world we want to  a citizen of.

There are so many rape accusations, people coming out with the #MeToo, Africa, as always is in a power play, so is America, Hungary is now a mini Russia, Sweden is suddenly racist, China is still the most racist country in the world today, Refugees in Germany, UK  and Paris are creating chaos.

It’s too much, every where is dangerous.

That is why I will ask you for a favour right now as you read this, please say a prayer for the world, it doesn’t matter how long, just acknowledge these crisis in your heart and ask love to exude through you.

Let love reign.

Thanks for coming to my Tedx Talk, Oh, and don’t forget to subscribe .


 

 

Palestinian protesters hurl stones during a demonstration at the entrance of Erez border crossing between Gaza and Israel, in the northern Gaza Strip, Wednesday, Oct. 3, 2018. (AP Photo/Khalil Hamra)

Muslim women walk in the courtyard of the 7th century Umayyad Mosque in Damascus, Syria, Wednesday, Oct. 3, 2018. President Bashar Assad told a little-known Kuwaiti newspaper Wednesday that Syria has reached a “major understanding” with Arab states after years of hostility over the country’s civil war.

In this Tuesday, Oct. 2, 2018 photo, participants attend the opening of the Syria rebuilding exhibition at the fair grounds in Damascus, Syria. With back-to-back trade fairs held in Damascus this month, Syria hopes to jumpstart reconstruction of its devastated cities by inviting international investors to take part in lucrative opportunities.

A Syrian student sits on the ground while studying in the Takiyya complex, an ancient construction with landscaped courtyards built on the banks of the Barada River in Damascus, Syria, Wednesday, Oct. 3, 2018. President Bashar Assad told a little-known Kuwaiti newspaper on Wednesday that Syria has reached a “major understanding” with Arab states after years of hostility over the country’s civil war.

A Palestinian medic wears a plastic bag on his head as a protection from teargas fired from Israeli troops during a protest on the beach at the border with Israel near Beit Lahiya, northern Gaza Strip, Monday, Oct. 1, 2018.

Relatives of 15-year-old Palestinian Ahmed Abu Habel, who was killed by Israeli troops on Wednesday’s demonstration at the entrance of Erez border crossing between Gaza and Israel, carry his body out of the family house during his funeral in town of Beit Lahiya, northern Gaza Strip, Thursday, Oct. 4, 2018. (AP Photo/Khalil Hamra

Palestinian protesters take cover next to the border fence during a protest on the beach at the border with Israel near Beit Lahiya, northern Gaza Strip, Monday, Oct. 1, 2018.

In this photo released on Monday, Oct. 1, 2018, by the Iranian Revolutionary Guard, a missile is fired from city of Kermanshah in western Iran targeting the Islamic State group in Syria. Iran’s paramilitary Revolutionary Guard said Monday it launched ballistic missiles into eastern Syria targeting militants it blamed for a recent attack on a military parade. (Sepahnews via AP)

Palestinian protesters hurl stones during a demonstration at the entrance of Erez border crossing between Gaza and Israel, in the northern Gaza Strip, Wednesday, Oct. 3, 2018. (AP Photo/Khalil Hamra)

Lebanese soldiers stand guard as Lebanese Foreign Minister Gebran Bassil tours a golf club, with diplomats and journalists, one of several locations they visited near Beirut’s international airport, in Beirut, Lebanon, Monday, Oct. 1, 2018. The ministry-organized tour, including a golf course and the soccer club, was an effort to dispel Israeli allegations of the presence of missile sites there. (AP Photo/Hassan Ammar

In this Thursday Sept. 27, 2018 photo, a father gives water to his malnourished daughter at a feeding center in a hospital in Hodeida, Yemen. With US backing, the United Arab Emirates and its Yemeni allies have restarted their all-out assault on Yemen???s port city of Hodeida, aiming to wrest it from rebel hands. Victory here could be a turning point in the 3-year-old civil war, but it could also push the country into outright famine. Already, the fighting has been a catastrophe for civilians on the Red Sea coast.

In this Monday, Oct. 1, 2018 photo, fans of slain former beauty queen, fashion model and social media star Tara Fares left flowers and candles at her gravesite, in Najaf, Iraq. Fares won fame in conservative, Muslim-majority Iraq with outspoken opinions on personal freedom. Last week, she was shot and killed at the wheel of her white Porsche on a busy Baghdad street. The violence reverberated across Iraq and follows the slaying of a female activist in the southern city of Basra and the mysterious deaths of two well-known beauty experts. (AP Photo/Anmar Khalil)

In this photo released on Monday, Oct. 1, 2018, by the Iranian Revolutionary Guard, missiles are fired from city of Kermanshah in western Iran targeting the Islamic State group in Syria. Iran’s paramilitary Revolutionary Guard said Monday it launched ballistic missiles into eastern Syria targeting militants it blamed for a recent attack on a military parade

Source; Apnews.com

AUTUMN’S SONG

A gale  blew past us

As we took a walk through the botanical garden

Nestling a love song on October’s leaves

 

Flying golden leaves, free falling

Wilting willow branches’ calling

Like a rising phoenix, more or less

 

Screaming school kids, Haunted playgrounds

Apple bobbing and Candy apples

Nesting a love song on October’s leaves

 

See the the crisp browning of dragon’s breath

Shadowing the mixed scent of pumpkin and poetry

Like a rising phoenix, more or less

 

The simmering embers make a comeback

Diluting Summer’s exotic air

Nestling a love song on October’s leaves

 

A cup of tea like communion wine on every lip

Merrymaking cradles on every hip

Like a rising phoenix, more or less

 

A picturesque view we’ve come to adore

lures us to a scintillating shore at four

Nestling a love song on October’s leaves

 

Like a Phoenix wing, more or less

We know neither a steady beginning or a quick trip

If venom drips off a ghoulish organ,

Let’s join to sing October’s songs forever more

 

Image source: Twitter

 

Jimmy Fallon’s Hilarious Family Hashtag

Jimmy Fallon’s back at it again. Every now and then, he does a segment where he gets fans to tweet their funny stories. He already did one for “How I Got Dumped” and it was hilarious.

This time, Jimmy wanted to hear weird family stories. And boy oh boy, people delivered.

jimmy fallon

@jimmyfallon

It’s Hashtags time! Tweet out a funny, weird, or embarrassing thing a family member has done or said, and tag it with . Could be on the show!

Jimmy started with a pretty tame example. Not a bad start.

But Jimmy was soon to realise that wasn’t so weird after all. I mean, it’s not like his parents used kids as traffic cones.

There were stories about grandparents and dentures.

 

Or what about this story of the year round Christmas tree.

Finger painting, anyone?

Does your family sneak off in the dead of night to go on holiday?

This story’s kinda sweet tbf.

F. Scott Fitzgerald did not have this in mind when he wrote about the green light.

Getting roasted by your grandparents is the worst, let’s be honest.

“We are looking for a 4 here.”

I love aisle five of Disneyland.

There’s always next year…

And finally, never argue with a dog — they’ll always win!

Source: Buzzfeed, Twitter

The Bloggers Recognition Award

To God be the glory I’ve been nominated for another one. Thank you Regina and Douglas, for the honour  I think that Isaiah46ministries.com is such a great blog for all. I love the stories and I just marvel at the spartan-like strength and endurance. Discovering their blog has been a blessing to me.

This few months have indeed been a whirlwind for me, so my apologies for the late acceptance. So, the blogger’s recognition award, definitely a surprise to me, I thought I just got lucky the first time, I guess I got lucky twice. lol

 

The rules of the award are simple according to this blog post

1. Thank the blogger who nominated you and provide a link to their blog.

2. Write a post to show your award.

3. Give a brief story of how your blog started.

4. Give two pieces of advice to new bloggers.

5. Select 15 or more bloggers for the award.

6. Let each nominee know that you’ve nominated them and leave a link to your post.

The Origin and Purpose of Memoirs of Alexander

When I began blogging, I was like a prey in a glade surrounded by darkness. I had no friends to turn to, eventually I started penning down my thoughts and feelings here rather than in my ugly  little notebook. It was perhaps a cry for help but this blog was unarguably the best decision I made at the tome. I had a chance to question my limits and explore my inner beauty and to encounter God’s wisdom all through typing my thoughts and ideas, and now I’ve reached the point that I’m ready to help others with similar stories as mine.

My Two cents 

I would definitely want them to figure out their purpose or niche and then simply have fun with it, irregardless of how many visitors they get. It is important to enjoy blogging because as a beginner, every other element is out of  your control (believe me I’ve tried). If one looks at the aspect of stats, you may not enjoy blogging as well as when you write for the couple of  people who shows up just for you.

 

And the Nominees are….

 

fauxcroft

My Slice of Mexico

Heaven’s Sunshine

Quiet Storm in Motion

Gasping for Light

Sgeoil

Penned in Genuiz

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

Young

My mother’s thigh were my stepping stone to the world beyond when I was born.

Day in. Day out. I sat there listening, never understanding the sounds from her mouth.

I clung to her bosom, it was all that I had.

I remember my first movie, Elizabeth Taylor being swooped off her feet.

Maybe I could be a damsel in distress in a marble courtyard  someday, I mused.

It was such a  honor to be chosen as a damsel when I was young.

Some night, mom was my enemy, other nights, dad was my enemy.

Both nights I had someone I could confide in, an ally. My brother.

He stood up for me when  I was defenceless.

The hero I’ve never known until the day he became  mute.

The intimacy I had never appreciated until we became estranged.

Not by time, space, barrier, but by words.

I watched him detach, I watched him change.

Before my eyes I saw him become what I could never describe, what he may never be able to explain.

And that day came when I held his hand, I cried and bursted out in anger

He bowed his head for he didn’t want me to notice the creeping duress that was becoming too real.

His unflexible smirk revealed a cold war unfurling within him, he was no more than ten.

When I was born, I clung to my mother’s bosom, it was all I knew .

I knew my knight in shining armor all too well,  until he went missing, hidden inside a conch.

Now, I have even less than I did then, but I have chosen to be a knight to nobody, but him.

He is small and compact but  will always be my ally.

Then I met a man and when I told him this, he told me, “youth is wasted on the young”.

As we steadily approach the third decade of life, I have to admit that perhaps he was right.

 


Thanks for reading my daily thoughts . Have a lovely weekend and don’t forget to  share your comments and subscribe to get my free ebooks . Much love <3

Image Courtesy:  Silas Onoja on Twitter

 

The awakening

Most times I prefer that it become adaptable to the audience by letting you read meaning into it, but this one is personal.

We’ve had to deal with our fare share of insecurities in a way that’s unique to us. Ergo, no two war stories will ever be the same.

After a scheduled coffee date this week,  I was forced to stare at myself  in the  mirrored hall and I couldn’t help but Thank God, because I saw myself for how beautiful I truly was.

Before then I made futile attempts to not look at myself because all I saw was a grimy shadow of imperfections. I thank God for my journey thus far. I thank him for the courage to love myself the way he intended.

 

 

Don’t look at me

for I wear shame like a crown

worthy of thorns

worthy of scorn

worthy of everything, but mercy

 

The person I saw the other day

she looked back at me with vulnerability

so I mocked her for being weak

I mocked her for I knew she has much shame

exactly as much as I have

 

In the day time I yearn for worthiness

the worth of love and belonging

An impression I never fanthomed

the abyss that leaves me empty and dry

Drowning in a sardonic rash 

 

And I searched for it in her

for forthnights and moonsons

for decades and eras

for milleniums and eons

till I was emptier and drier

 

It drove me crazy

For in many men the courage  existed

I went astray connecting deeper with her psyche

and  she had no compassion for me

just like I had none for her

 

So I laid there pleading

I grew numb. My teeth  bleeding

I could tell she was scared of me

but her shame kept her locked  away

in iron clad glates

 

In her eyes a glimmer of compassion

Her voice chocked with hope

Hope was all I needed

to reveal her courage

and rid her fear.

 

I began to tell her

everything she is good at

I was beginning to see it

even if the world didn’t

Yes I see it!

 

Then did she rise and break the fetters

I thought she would smite me

I couldn’t blame her

yet her eyes gleamed with empathy

She rescued me, like Heracles did Theseus

 

 

She cleaned me up

she took my hand

we walked together

out of the seat of witness

I have never felt worth until now

 

This is what vulnerability feels like

I formed ground-breaking connections

These all happened while she sat cross-legged on a  mat

chanting in deep breaths;

I am enough!

 

 

 

Therefore I am

With each fleeting moment, I am confronted by what is, and what isn’t. This is seemingly a colloquial thought, one might argue that the things we see and feel  are meant to be and that’s it. If we allow ourselves to reach beyond our psyche and tap into unprecedented knowledge,  it may become more feasible that ‘what is’ stems from what exists as much as what is felt, and the interfacing harmony of it. It is the interpretation of time, space, and soul  as the core of our existence.  It is something that is intangible and unquestionably fleeting. It is what René Descartes summed up in five words.

There was a time that I thought being imaginative was a delirious habit. I’d stare at a blanc wall and a tumultuous mind would recreate that wall in the most alluring, pristine way and even add dimensions to it. Whether I realised it then, or not, this was a form of  existing consciousness. Then along came the Ego, the imposter I assumed to be the real me, he’d coax me into believing how awful that imagination was.

Of course he’s right, it’s only a boring wall.

Except that it’s not. It’s whatever I want it to be because I could seat in the core of the soul, where distilled emptiness and silence  harmonises the wall to my creative desire. In a way, it is a knowledge that redefines artistry and philosophy, including writing. Therefore, I employ us to tap into that seat of consciousness, never-mind what the Ego thinks. It isn’t real, but you are.  Your mind can either establish or annihilate you, and I believe that in our own little world, we can be heroes.

Who am I?

“I think; therefore I am”—René Descartes

 

Who am I?

who sees when I see?

 

who hears when I hear?

who knows when I’m aware?

 

Who am I?

who watches my dreams when I am dreaming?

 

Who feels love when I feel love?

whose hair turns white when I’m gripped by fear?

 

Who are you?

whose shadow are you living behind?

 

Are you your father’s child?

are you a workaholic or alcoholic?

 

Are you still donning the frock  of guilt and despair?

are you still afraid of who you are?

 

 

 

 

sources;

Ramana Maharshi

the untethered soul—Micheal sing