A Painful Soul


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!



like alabaster

reaching into the darkness

of my soul,

I gasp.



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



The taste

like kolanut lingers

on my tongue

masking the chamomiley one

the ones before left



from battles hurt

as It should

yet I must separate the truth

from fallacy



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.



friend, help!

For in solitude, I live

In solitude

I will dine.



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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.


For the culture

Dear Motown lover, I absquatulated to Narnia

to see the gold ensemble of  war ships north of  the  loch ness


To feel the warm orange  sun pacify  my bosom

and finesse the taste of smooth jazz and  Scottish scotch


‘Tho I have been exiled into solitude,

I  couldn’t hide from your bearded face


I  remember that beat, the extended sense of rhythm

I needed it like I needed to hallucinate


like I was breathing  forcefully without it

It was an aesthetic I needed to share


I found a place beyond grassy dunes, overlaying damp rusty urban roofs

through a collection of beaded curtains,  is the glistening of vintage hues


This place sets my heart ablaze, my oh so cold and pale heart

The only sane voices I hear this days speak through the bass


I will still be in this place 59 moons later

threading the thin clouds of imagination and unconventional literature


Some days I’m numb, some days I’m woke

both days I can’t stand the blood of vengeance out there


So I replay this vibe in my head, over and over and over

and over on those midsummer nights


And I write these poems for you everyday,  for the culture

Just in case you come searching for me someday.


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Image from: lushpin.com






Ready to let it go

Yesterday was a considerably long day because I made a phone call. This phone call was one which is particularly important to me.

It was my brother’s birthday, and I needed to confront parts of myself that is connected to him. If you haven’t already, please visit my post titled; Young. If you gave that a read and you were wondering what that was about, here’s the other part I purposely omitted because I wasn’t ready to go into depths that day I published Young.

My brother started behaving different when I was maybe 8 and he was 10. I was prolly the only one who noticed at the time until his grades came in.

We went from being best friends to me wondering why he was so withdrawn. He wasn’t talking much and I spent a lot of time hypothesising what it could be, I just couldn’t fathom it.

I was mad. I was resentful, I eventually became withdrawn as well.

When folks ask questions about my family, I’m always avoidant. A lot of people actually think I’m the first born until I get too comfortable and spill, something I regret immediately after, they would then go; ” Oh, you have an older brother? what’s he doing, where’s he at?

And I would deflect and feel ashamed

The authorities, doctors in Nigeria didn’t know either. When I learnt about Autism and Autism spectrum disorders, I began comparing it with his routine and repetitive mannerism and I was so sure I’ve diagnosed it.

The more I researched Autism and Asperger’s, and compared with him, the more I realised this wasn’t it. But for lack of better diagnosis , I stuck with it.

When his MRI scans came out, it showed that the plump parts of  the internal capsule that connects the left and right hemispheres of the brain did not develop completely, so called agenesis or hypogenesis of the Corpus callosum. Extremely rare tho

Finding the pathology brought a touch of closure for me, I guess. Since I was 8, I’ve only ever wanted to understand what it was. For those interested, I will leave a link here and below.

Odudu didn’t go to uni or technical college because he doesn’t have the mental capacity to deal with it.

Nevertheless, his meek soul is one I’m proud of.  A lot of our childhood experiences taunted me with guilt, shame and with a touch of inadequacy, feelings I’m all too familiar with and extremely tired of. Right now, I’m working on  building a new ,unbreakable relationship with my brother again

When I struggle to get my life together and to get a continuous stream of income, only 30%  is about my future.

Life is not fair but my brother deserves a future and it’s up to God and me to bring it into fulfilment.

Thanks for reading my daily thought <3

Here’s the link on Ageneis of Corpus Callosum

The Pre-extinction of Mankind

It is the year 3005. Approximately a century of a light year,  man is on the verge of extinction. The ozone is depleting, unfiltered rays shone through. Each Human  had a 100% chance of getting cancer if they were exposed to the atmosphere.

Augusta sat at her grandma’s heel, they’d just had lunch. The grub is meager now-a-days, all food, even confectionery  truck  foods had GMO traces in them which is gastronomically toxic. At the time of discovery, less than 3% crops were organic and while the world steadily ate their way to the grave, Australia  proved resilient to the natural selection of humanity.

Augusta loved stories, her favourite were about the life before the extinction era,  she was curious about civilization and the millennials. She’d revere in the stories like she lived then as she’d never known smart phones or social media and today was no exception. Luckily grandma Alex is the best story teller alive, literally, as there were only 300 humans alive.

Grandmother Alex enigmatic eyes loomed into the distance. She knew the story her grand daughter would request far too well. She relived it as many times as she reiterated it. She heaved heavily as if it’ll hurt to utter a word. She started;

“I come from a time of great triviality. We could have done better because we knew better. It was the year 2017 and mankind was at the peak of evolution. The world had 3 trillion occupants with oodling birth rates and a recline in  mortality.

I was a young student at the time, my ultimate goal, to become a neurology specialist. I was insouciant to the world around me,  It was the only way to stay sane… little did I know what life had in store for us. The migration rate was explosive, with the ongoing war in the Middle East, and economic stand of third world countries, everyone wanted a better life elsewhere than home, including myself, albeit this was the beginning of the end.

A neo-viral disease surfaced,  The terminal ailment was traced back to a CNC mechanic in Cardiff. I was the resident physician on call that day.  He presented symptoms of a complicated flu, 11 days later, the young man made a complete recovery, or so we thought. Later that evening, he suffers from status epilepticus and died within seconds. A culture of his blood sent to the lab suggested that the infection was a recombinant cluster of Ebola and Dengue virus. Attempts to identify it’s diverse symptomatology failed and sure enough, the disease spread fast.

Vietnamese migrants were the first to be associated with the disease.  East-Asia crumbled under the blow of an epidemic, the economic instability worsened it.  Attempts by the world leaders to aid Asia proved futile. Europe and USA went on the defence, abandoning Asia, watching under quarantined roofs as one subcontinent vanished. There was an uprising by world activists; liberals protesting the governments, and thus began the third world war.

Lives were destroyed. Dreams shattered, and families  separated.  Meanwhile Russian biologists worked secretly on a trial antidote for the pandemic, it was solely in the interest of the government. Nonetheless, the grim reaper spared them not.

By 2020,  the rate of inborn errors of metabolism had drastically tripled, and the world population was halved yet again. This was indirectly linked to GMO in food produce.

All these while, Australia went A-wall. That seemed to have a source of hope. Unbelievably, it worked. Almost no one migrated there. In that period, Australia was simply forgotten. The underdogs survived the greatest tribulations of Mother nature.

You, my dearest Augusta, are the descendants of the fittest survivors, grandma concluded.

Although Augusta loved that story, she knew it was a far greater burden for Grandma Alex. She made a solemn promise to herself that she’d never make her millennium old relative relive the worst era of her life.

An so it was, because as nightfall came and they rested their eyes, so they could fight tomorrow. Grandma suffered a stroke.

Today is  29. 2. 3005, General population of the world, 299 survivors left.


I wrote this story a while back but held back from publishing it. I guess now’s as good a time as ever. I hope it makes sense to you and you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Don’t forget to let love shine through your words, and deeds.

Bless your beautiful hearts. Au revoir.

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


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


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….



My Slice of Mexico

Heaven’s Sunshine

Quiet Storm in Motion

Gasping for Light


Penned in Genuiz