Cupid’s double Edged Arrow.

The image that comes to our head, when its, mentioned is that of a charming little baby, with curly hair on it’s head, little cute wings ,probably dressed in white or in black(Although he has been around for a while, age is nit a reflective factor) and looking so really cute
And in it’s hands are what I will call “a life determinant” the bow and arrow it carries around has an effect of making the world go round at the same time it could make the world come to an End.
The power bestow on Cupid was to fire it’s arrow on anybody it choose to, and the result will be what people will see and they will say the person is in love. I would say Cupid’s Blessings is also it’s curse. No wonder when Sam Cooke sang his ever blazing “Cupid” song he was shot at the later part of his life. Most people don’t ever see the thorns that lies in the blossom of love.
Where do I start from now, this world has witness a lot of relationships ,and love gone sour ,a perfect example would be that between Bush and Osama Bin Laden, am sure that’s more recent. At first when Struck by the arrow, the feeling is good, I would say if most people should be asked what is the best feeling they have ever felt ,it will be that of love it makes you feel stupid but at the same time you are still good with it. The impression is quite good at first, the chocolate, the flowers ,nice words, poetry, I mean if you are not careful you might lose your head to it, even if you die in its course ,you will feel justified even though it’s not suppose to be so. That is love when the shot from Cupid’s arrow is still fresh and Clean, But months after, you will start seeing Fault in the one you love, that same person you would love to spend the rest of your life with, that same person that has been the reason you wake up every morning you will say to yourself ”I have a reason to live”. but it now turns to “I have a reason to die”.
What most people don’t know is that Cupid’s arrow was blessed at the same time cursed, what kind of arrow brings pleasure without bringing pain?People see only the good side of love, but they don’t talk of the opposite side,I would say the tree of love was also planted with that of hate,it grows along with it,remaining dormant till the right time when the law of diminishing returns sets in. Then that’s when love turn to hate, I mean its so crazy that couples don’t see it until they have gone deep into it before they realize what is happening. Ike and Tina Turnner never knew it would be like this ,before we knew it Tina was asking ,What’s love gat to do with it”. I tell you it has everything to do with it.
Some questions are rather left unanswered than answering them, but the real fact of the issue is never to let one’s head down, when you have to keep it up.Love to me ,I would say is the most complicated word in the whole world, I mean people say it, use it, without even knowing what its all about, you can say you love when you only want to have sex, but has a guy I might tell a girl I love her because of what am seeing, good body ,nice legs ,firm boobs ,and that Lips like Angelina Jolie. and she has great legs like Tina Turnner ,I could just dazzle her head a little bit, and after a month we start to date and we are having sex, I would do that for some months, then we brake up, is that love? But for that moment of dating, to the girl that world is nothing compare to what she is having, but before you know it, the only language they both will understand will be that curses and fights the Guy’s aim of having sex with her is achieved but it,s never seen that way. Love, it made Angelina Jolie had the tattoo of her famous love (Billy Bob Thorthon),and when it was all said and done, she said “Never have a man’s name tattooed on your body as I did”(Cosmopolitan October edition 2007 page 36)Is that advice not to fall in love? and if I may ask why is that people turn to be love advice experts after their crashed love affair .i mean everybody does except me(Hope I don’t fall in as much as I want to fall out).
All over world Cupids double edged arrow has re-shaped people’s life, some from good to bad, others bad to good,and some just stay on the same edge,Whitney Houston could have a second option before singing We have something in common with Ex-husband Bobby Brown(I guess they don’t any longer),and Jennifer Lopez wouldn,t have sang “Love don’t cost a thing” considering P.Diddy really flashed her good money and Ice,but is her relationship with Mark Anthony worth anything?.And so many good love stories come to unhappy, heart breaking ,rib-cracking end.But that is enough reason for us not to love again,after all life is nothing but a risk,and how much of that risk are you will to take is that question ,when would you stop learning?
I would say till the day,the breath in my lungs cease,till that that I would not be able to move my eye lids again, till my heart beat stop doing it,s function.Till then I would keep on the gospel of love,
Even if takes my life,I would know that am justified.
Cell-phones buzzes ,my ex-girlfriend is calling .But have you really consider the fact why Cupid and Stupid sound alike .Let me know.

My father and I

For some fathers, this may never be true. For others, the opportunity to become not just a good father, but a friend to your children, comes with time and the will to reach out to your children.
My father was a great parent when I was very little. I didn't see him much as he traveled extensively for work, but I remember so many fun times. My father taught me to play football (and how to let my baby sister win), to draw, to ride my first bike. He encouraged my love of reading, and taught me how to enjoy the theater. He smiled on my playing 'dress up', but also brought me Lego so I could learn how to 'engineer' a city. He instituted special 'daddy-daughter' days for my birthday, where we would spend the whole day together. When I was six, he took me to a restored chalk pit where there was also a painting gallery and wildflower trails. When I was seven, he took me to the Tower of London for the day.
This all changed as I grew older, and moved from small, cute kid, to difficult, shy preteen. I can't even remember when our relationship changed, but I do remember the misery of my teenage years: A man whom seemed interested only to yell, a man whom got frustrated by my difficulties understanding his 'help' with my math homework, and a girl who didn't understand her place in the world or how to stand up to the bullying she faced both at school, and, eventually, at home. The fights became constant: I could trigger my father with one ill-advised sentence, and the rage of his anger was frightening observe. What should have been considered normal teen rebellion was taken as ingratitude and something to be both punished and obliterated. Running away from home & locking my door became frequent themes, and the fights didn't cease as I became older and more opinionated, more determined to have my own independence.
At age 21, when I was finally old enough to receive government funding for my education without living at home, I moved into a friend's spare bedroom. I had to get away from my father, from the increasing fights which often involved the rest of the family, or even my friends when they objected to his treatment of me.
The fights still continued everytime I visited home: My father demanded my student tax credits one year, despite the fact he wasn't contributing to my education. When I refused, he threatened to ban me from my family home.
I thought I would never be able to have a good relationship with him, that we would never be able to be in each other's company without a fight. I was sure I hated him. I was sure I would never forgive him, especially when my sister was diagnosed with both anorexia and bulimia, the daughter whom my father had called 'fat' throughout her youth. I blamed him for the fact she was dying of starvation.
I blamed him despite him calling to tell me that she had agreed to be hospitalized. I thought he wanted my 'help', as he had every time before when my mom had been in the hospital or away: that he wanted my help while she was at the hospital with my sister.
But I was wrong. My father was, along with my baby' sister, falling apart. He was suddenly realizing how close he was to losing one of his daughters, before he had made any effort to know either of them as adults. He began to change slowly, as slowly as my sister's recovery and weight gain. As she gained in strength, he developed empathy.
The tyrant began to disappear: My father was concerned my sister was overspending her energy; he hovered constantly. He watched what she ate like a hawk, encouraging her to eat more food almost exactly as he had when she was a baby. He suggested family outings for the first time since I had turned 18, and when I visited, I was no longer met at the door with complaints about my behavior and attitude. After a weekend's holiday with my friends, we dropped by my parents' new house so I could give them a 'tour'. My father was polite and even joked with them. In the car on the way to my apartment, my best friend since age 12 turned said she could hardly relate him to the man he had been.
When I brought my boyfriend home for the first time, over a year ago, he was warm and welcoming, a direct contrast from the man whom had verbal fights with my previous boyfriends. When I lost my home in a fire three months ago, my father and mother invited my boyfriend and I to move in with them until we found a new home. He helped us pack up what we had salvaged, and then took us on outings' during our time living with him. He volunteered to move us into our new home. In short, he was no longer the man whom had terrorized me during my childhood with his temper and demands for perfection.
My father realized that his daughters were their own people, strong and worthy of love and respect, only when he was faced with losing one of them. In doing so, he opened up to us and reached out, regaining our trust and love, becoming mine & my sister's friend. He looks for jobs for me in the paper, he sends me funny emails. When I call, he wants to talk to me, to hear about my week. After 15 years of fighting, we are finally on the same team' again.
I am not yet sure I will ever fully respect my father, nor ever forget or fully forgive his treatment of my sister and I during our youths. What I can say now, however, is that my father is my friend, and that I love him dearly.
He has become a good father, and I have come to realize him as such, and that I need a father, 'even' at age 26. It is never too late to need a father, and therefore it is never too late for a father to become a loving support to his children, and worthy of the title "a good father".

Winning the war against terrorism

Despite the old adage that generals should never fight wars on two fronts, most wars (in varying degrees) are fought in just such a fashion. Even if the soldiers fighting the flesh and blood campaign are all in the same trench there is always another campaign being fought for the 'hearts and minds' of the folks back home. The current war against terrorism (there have been many) is no exception.
But folks back home have always needed victories to cheer them and ensure their continued support for a war, and there is one different and, perhaps, unique facet of this current war that may make it difficult to achieve any kind of victory, however we may want to define it: Our enemy doesn't exist in any tangible form.
What certainly IS tangible and beyond doubt is that we in the West are under threat. The attacks on the twin towers and on Bali, Madrid and London as well as on numerous western targets around the world are testament to that. We are at war with SOMEONE because someone is certainly at war with us.


However, our mysterious enemy is not obliging us by arranging his forces in serried ranks on a battlefield, at one under a flag. He knows no borders; He has no nationality (those who bombed the twin towers, Bali, Madrid and London were Saudi, Indonesian, Moroccan and British respectively) and he has no political requirements or demands. He simply wants our complete destruction. Whether that wish is a fanciful delusion remains to be seen but what is certain is that his weapon is terror and his banner is Islam.
Yet we are not at war with the Islamic World because most people in the Islamic World have no wish to be at war with US. It's a complex puzzle, frustrating and unsettling.
But why should our task be so complex? Terrorism, Guerrilla wars and insurgencies have been around for a long time; the Romans, 2,000 years ago, would wearily attest to that. But the guerrilla campaigns in the history books were almost exclusively about territory or political ideology. What our bygone terrorists/freedom fighters (depending on which side you were on) were saying was either "Get your colonial ass off our land" or "Get your communist/fascist ass out of the Presidential Palace".
The campaigns of old could be (and still are) brutal and prolonged but they were comprehensible. It was simply a matter of taking sides. We knew our enemies and we knew what they wanted.
This war on terror is a different matter. Our enemy is an irrational abstract, invisible and diaphanous. We can't really fight him with the weapons we have to hand so we do what humans have always done with abstracts: We replace them with symbols. That way we have something tangible to hold on to and to deal with, something to comprehend. The symbol we have created to replace our abstract enemy is: "Al Qaeda".
Whether it's a plot foiled in London or an atrocity committed in Baghdad the culprit will always be the same: "Al Qaeda". Our media love the term. It is a term that saves us from thinking about complexity and cause. It is a term that provokes the right images in our minds. It is a term that makes some sort of sense of our enemy. Yet it is a nonsense term and until we address the reality behind it we will simply be like Don Quixote tilting at windmills.
But the reality is bewildering. It is a matter of history, economic hardship, frustration, hopelessness, paranoia, jealousy and good old-fashioned angst. It is a matter of Saudi wealth and poverty in the back streets of Cairo. It is a matter of jobless young men in Morocco forced to seek money in a Europe they detest. It is a matter of young British Muslims unable to see a future in what they see as an alien and hostile society. It is a matter of all these things and much, much more.
What is also true is that those who have decided to fight the West are as guilty of replacing their complex (and very human) motivations with symbols as we are our fears. "Jihad" is perhaps as much a fantasy as the modern-day SPECTRE that is "Al Qaida". How much more easy it is to die for "Jihad" than it is to pointlessly throw away your life because of hopelessness and hatred.
Any victory in this war against terrorism will only come about when we are forced to face up to the fact that a significant amount of young Muslims blame us in the West for their problems. A victory will also only come about when the Islamic World takes a long, hard look at itself and faces up to its own shortcomings and stops blaming the "Great Satan" for its own ills. That victory is a long way off and the road to it seems endless.

ITS NEVER TOO LATE TO BE A GOOD FATHER.

Now that is if any damage has not been done to the fabrics of family-hood and if even done if it has affected its DNA and destroying its main structure. The role a father in a family is more than just more than providing the basic needs of the family and making babies ,he is the emotional financial spiritual and physical head of the family, all what goes on in the family still boils down to him ,being at the receiving end of the family's dirt. Well apart from that the I never had a promising father myself, he tried teaching me to be a man at an early age, giving me all the basic rules he tried so much it got to a point he started failing, not because he wanted to but because he thought he could only make me better, simply because I was the unimproved version of him, the inexperienced side of what he was, all he wants was to make me a better person that himself, allowing me to succeed where he failed, cross those bridges he failed to cross in life, but in the end I only became a mixed creature of hard lessons and tough love.

Whether good or not we of the male side of life human race will get to that stage one day when we will find ourselves as fathers to others ,when we play roles that conflict with our basic principles, when we have to try so hard we will end up bending those rules we think are unbreakable. The father tries so hard to get his little one to open up to him but its like each step he takes to reach the child, he drives him back to his mother's love or someone who he thinks can do better than the father. the child is now left with no option but to just see the man leaving with his mother not as his father but as just someone he thinks might be his father if only he tries harder .But is it ever too late to be a good dad. My father was someone I really respected, but I could not say that I loved him, I guess I loved him so much I feared him too much. I tried reaching out to my kids bit I guess the more I tried the more I get farer away from them I could remember the time I took Tom{my last son) to a basketball game as we were watching the game he kept looking at my face to see if I was really into the game as he was, but honestly I was far away from the game centre itself ,my boss gave me a query that day and the light of getting fired was shinning brightly at my face, tom saw it clearly I was not there with him, even though I was sitting beside him physically I was far away from him, I was in the middle of this when I heard the crowd shouting Tom's team just scored a point ,I then realised it was game over and he told me his team won, on our way home that night he only asked me two question that left me thinking through out the week, he ask "Dad where we you during the game" as if I was not with him but he I knew what he was saying .Days later he went out with a neighbour to see the finals of the game he got home smiling with a winning cap on his head jumping around I could only guess that his team won the game, he later came up to him and said "its good to see you waiting up for me" to him I think he just said it was good you were not at the game with me. His sister was trying to quit college and go to a fashion school in New-york I wanted her to be a Lawyer because really she's gat all what it takes to be a good Attorney but all she wants is to get into that fashion school that has become the foundations of her fantasy, she used to be my pretty plumy baby, but in just a night, a simple father-daughter argument turn out be a cold war between us, she woke the next morning to be my mother-in-law{did not really like her because she thought her daughter was too good for me},then I realised I am about losing my little baby to a law school she never wanted to attend, it now dawned on me that its better to have my way than to lose her to a world she's not prepared for, I had to bend my so called principles and allow her to get into her fashion school thank God i did what I did then I still have her love and trust till now. I guess my father would have been the millennium father I wanted him to be if the grim reaper had not reaped him off his family tree, now I guess it was too late for him to be a good father he was trying to be. But now as I journey through this path of life I would try my best to be that good image he was trying to be, he tried so hard I made him fail. But to me he never failed he wasn't just going to stop tying. But really is it ever too late to be good father?

Vampies

It's almost a day gone. And I can't say for once ,this is what I have done today, or accomplished, something like a rewarding task done. At times I feel my presence in this world, is like a burden on the world itself, something like an out of place object. Like I'm here for nothing. Colours and weather seems not to be friendly with me, my shadow at times even disagree with me. I wake up at night and ask God, if he has answers to my questions, but all I get is this deafening silence that does more damage to my brain than cancer. This is not living, neither is it fulfilling, just like an experiment, am just like a mouse being used to prove a theory. But if I may ask, do I really have to go through this everyday? why was I born into this world, when my duty to be in it is not even defined. God could have done better than featuring me in his latest horror flicks. But it's like am just a product of tricks being played by some heavenly being up there. Am I frustrated.

Enough of the wailing, I said to myself, what can I do to better my present situation. But how can you improve yourself when all the factors of life are not working with you. something like a grand conspiracy which I'm just unfortunate to be part of. I know it's not fair but what can I do, just have to keep playing the game till my time is up. Don't have to worry about blazing out in glory, or something like that, its one way out and one way in. Like a cattle bred for slaughter. Friends,what am I thinking, people like me don't have friends, we only have acquaintances, they only come and go, trying to see if you measure up to the friendship level. like if I have what it takes to stay in the "clique" thing. What if all these was a test of my real personality?, to see if can stand this on-going heat, if I can take charge of situations around me. I guess not, my addiction to the dark side had done me more favour, than been on the good side. If I could find my own salvation out of this place of pain, locate my own gateway to paradise. But I had this fling with paradise once, a beautiful lady, a passer-by just for no cause, she smiled at me .gosh it was heaven to me. That was just what I needed at that time, sort of refreshment. Till I exit out of this ghetto I will take that with me. And nobody, not even with all the sorrow in this world will deprive me of that. Then what would be my story? what do I tell my unborn seed's ,that I was just an actor playing his part, and the curtains are about to be pulled down on me, when the ovation is even at its minimal. No I tell them that I tried, but I wont stop trying, maybe I failed trying but I never stopped. I see people dressed in fancy suits and clothes, I pity them, because they try to cover so much sorrow, they suffocate themselves up in their fancy outfits. But me! I lived life, and I did not allow life to leave me instead, I had in all sorted out, in my own way. And when I'm gone it shall read on my tombstone," He had life figured out, he lived it out". That's out I want it, hope they that would find my body would be kind enough to have it that way. I'm just another hopeless, homeless man on the street. My home is not where my heart is, but where my heart would be when I'm gone .I'm just a closing page in this book called LIFE.

Death of a Parent

It was 2.45am.Woke up from a bad dream, and it seems all the weight of the world was going to crash on me. Having bad dream, that was something, seeing my father died in my dream, that was something else. And for once I was scared beyond limits. That was almost two weeks ago, forgetting the dream was going to do me some good. I gained admission into college and I started feeling good, but once in while the sense that something was about to be taken away from me, kept creeping upon me like a disease's, I had no idea of how it's going to be, but I know it's coming up on me fast, something like an hurricane. The last time I heard, Dad was still doing fine. As healthy as a horse. Learning was going on fine, I was about writing a test, when the urge to go home came on, well I had to, and I did. Got home and Dad was still doing fine, mom was out of town to see her Sister. We got talking and has he talked, I kept looking at him, like this was going to be our last talk.


We all slept that night, after a nice meal my sister helped preparing. Went to my room, prayed and slept. Mom came back, before I woke up the next morning. Collected some money from Dad, dropped me at the park, and I was off to school. He said good-bye and I thought it was going to be forever. Well it wasn't. The semester was over, and I went home. Dad was still around. I felt I was going crazy like I wanted him Dead. Something tells me, I was going to be the end of him. Maybe I'm being over-protective. And the though of him dead is something, I can't live with. Friday was my Birthday, it wasn't that big, just the family and few friends around, Ann was around, a girl I was asking out. For once I had forgotten of my wired behavior, it was like mom noticed it too. Hope she wasn't hiding anything. It was during the dance, suddenly Dad slumped into the ground. That was it. Doctors said, his health has been failing for a while now, he wasn't trying to get his family worried. I think that was selfish of him. Come to think of it, I was trying to protect someone, who knew his game was over. That night I was at the hospital with him .Drips all over him, with so other wires, whose destination into his body I cant say where. Relatives and friends came over, seeing them got him back on the track. We all though he will be getting out soon. Doctors confirmed it. My fears debugged the fact, that he will be coming home. I guess not. I was suppose to get something in school, and come back the next day. Got a phone call from my brother. The old man just left the building. Arrived home that night ,went straight to see Mom in her room, she was weak, I guess the amount of tears that left her body made her weak, a part of Dad also left with them. The Funeral ceremony was not that much, he wanted it that way. Still I hadn't shed a tear, but it all came flooding when he was being lowered into his final resting abode. I felt a sense of deja-vu then. My nightmare was now my reality. His death made me worse than I was, at the same time made a better person. At times I wondered could I have stopped him from falling off this world Into his present dark place. No I guess it was meant to be. The huge space he left, could never be filled. Mom was trying to be strong. I hope she is not trying too much. It's been a year now. And at the one-year anniversary I felt he could have saved himself if only he wanted to .But then I realized he gave up on living before .he gave up the ghost. Now I all could think about him was why did he do it .I don't even get to see him in my dreams, like my other siblings do .I guess he is trying to see enough for me. He is gone physically. But I still believe he is still with me. Only wished I never had that dream, that I never slept that night. And more important .He did not gave up on his family. Guess it was meant to be. His death gave me a new meaning to Life.

Dromen

Dromen, volgens de Oxford Leerlingen Woordenboek, Vooraf kunnen als een serie van gebeurtenissen, beeld gedefinieerd worden en gevoelens, dat gebeurt in uw geest terwijl slapend: of een staat van geest of toestand in welke dingen kan niet schijnt gedefinieerd worden Reaal te zijn. Naar mij een droom, is slechts een deel van ons tweede leven. iets houdt van het inactieve deel van ons leven, wij activeren enkel hem, wanneer wij slapen. Een plaats waar wij ontsnappen naar, van alle problemen van deze wereld, die niet is echt vreedzaam te zeggen, omdat onze nachtmerries nog steeds de de plaats van vlek op met het lelijke kleur zijn en maken de plaats, een plaats van gruwel en tegelijkertijd, ons weinig veilig verblijf. Maar indien wij enkel ons opmerkzaam hulpbronnen recht kunnen leiden, zouden wij het best gebruik van onze Dromen misschien kunnen maken. Dromen kunnen het hoogste punt in ons leeft Een plaats zijn waar onze hoop en visioenen een betere kans van het overleven staan. Een kans van was gerealiseerd en exploiteren. Dromen zijn geestelijk geneigd, een kleine fractie van onze dromen gaat een lange weg in hermodelleer ons leeft hier op aarde. Als een noodzakelijke middelen naar een einde zijn dromen noodzakelijk naar leven. Een man die niet droomt, leeft niet. Zo''n een man kan dodene enkel niet klinisch beschouwd worden. In een droom kan u die dingen doen die u in de echte wereld Een plaats waar u niet kan kunnen doen kunnen zetten uw tekens en kunnen een onmogelijke hoogte van prestatie. bereiken En tegelijkertijd, dromen kunnen als handelen van bestanddelen gezien worden die het leven van een man scherpen. Kijk eens naar het Bijbelse Teken van Joseph" de dromer" een man die zijn eigen lot in zijn handen door zijn dromen nam, hij regeerde zijn volledige familie, werd hij ingelijst, sloot in een gevangenis, daar hij op ontmoette twee van de best dienst mannen van Farao, zijn butler en zijn bakker, daar hij herdefinieert het leven van de twee mannen. En ook zag zijn weg om op de Eerste minister van de Egypte provincie te zijn. De soort van dromen u heb, stel vast wat u van houdt zou zijn alsof, het alsof een proloog naar een boek is, dat legt welke een zou moeten verwachten in het boek uit en Zou Moeten Definiëren dat het stijl is en stel tevreden. Geweldige Oorlogsheren zoals Alexzendra het Geweldige, Adolf Hitler, Julius Caesar dromen heeft gehad die hun getroffen hebben leven, positief of negatief ofwel aanmoedigende hen naar handtas ofwel verlaten hun campagne. Ook revolutionaire leiders hebben hun aandeel van de illusioned wereld ook, zoals van Malcolm X, de Huiszwaluw Luther Koning jr, Winston Churchill en de rust gehad. De macht binnen een droom, zou niet moeten onderschat worden, omdat het ware feit over dromen dat is, zij stellen vast dat u in leven. Alfred Tennyson zult gaan zei dat" Dromen waar zijn terwijl zij duren en hoe veel niet wij in dromen leven"? . Dit uitlegt de luxe die een geniet van in de droomwereld, waar u wat dan ook u zijn kan, wens te zijn, de President van de Verenigde Staten, de Britse premier, een drugheer. Maar alle deze is slechts enkel waar terwijl zij duren, omdat echt wij leven in dromen, het slechts een tijdelijke illusioned wereld. niet is En voor u hem weet, u bent terug naar de zelfde wereld zelfde positie u was. Sean, een achttien jaar oude jongen, geboren en verhoogde op de wilde zijde van Brooklyn New York heeft hem iedereen gehad die van verwaarlozing als een zuigeling, naar kinderhinder, gegegekoppte wordt te misbruiken van een gebroken familie die naar ontbering van de basisbestanddelen van levensonderhoud gegegekoppte wordt. gegegekoppte met het feit die opvoeding schijnt gene plaats voor hem in haar onderwijsprogramma te hebben. De ouders waren zelfs naar arm om dat opvoeding te beseffen en De gezondheid is noodzakelijk. Hij beweeg in de straat,. werd een bende lid en een drugsleurder. Goed de straten, zich heeft zijn eigen weg van bevrijd te worden daarvan is onnodige onddelen, werd gearresteerd en verstuurd. de laatste hoop voor een beter morgen. zijn mamma werd schoongemaakt medicijnen gevangen te nemen en verzoende met de echtgenoot, kreeg een betere baan en plotseling dingen werden beter in het huis. Enkel dat hij niet daar was om hem te zien gebeurt. Zo dat wat hij deed dat, elke keer hij was wil zijn aandeel van het nieuwe geluk thuis, hij slaapt hebben en dromen van het. wanneer gevraagde waarom hij zo dat veel slaapt, hij zei dat "bijgevolg dat ik met mijn familie aan wanneer dan ook ik kan ontsnappen en zijn wens naar" hij zelfs aan tijden beschrijft gebeurtenissen thuis. Dit aan tijden bevestigt wat verder aan zijn huis ga. Arme Sean maakte nooit hem steunt huis, werd hij in de badkamer, door een rivaliserend bende lid, slechts drie dagen neergestoken naar wanneer hij vrijgegeven zal worden. Op zijn stervend bed aan het ziekenhuis, glimlachte hij en vertelde zijn mamma, die zij nog steeds kan laten hem steunen wanneer dan ook zij wil, Maar enkel In haar DROMEN

Durma e desempenho acadêmico

Тем утром, когда я пробуждался, я чувствовал, что часть собиралась оставлять меня, но я не мог действительно выяснять то, чем это собирается быть, но я знаю, что это прибывает, как это собирается поражать меня и когда и где - вопрос. Но я знаю, что это - кое-что плохо. Получил мой пакет сумки и был прочь, чтобы работать, очень теплое, имеют ли, осколок птиц, живя жизнью как они это, прохладный бриз, хлопающий мое лицо ни без какой боли, и синие облака, кажется, оплакивают мою неудачу, чтобы прибыть. хорошо игнорируя все тени того, что я чувствую, что это собирается сбивать меня, но что я не понимаю, я добрался, чтобы работать и первый взгляд, который я получил от моего женского босса, походил "на Вас спускающийся по утечке Shawn", я надеюсь, что взгляд не был в результате нашего последнего, бросаются, хорошо я пробовал быть, что тот нечувствительный парень, который только нуждается в сексе как новый рожденный ребенок, нуждается в молоке, я только пробовал сказать ей, что наши короткие отношения собирались быть свободным типом вереницы, не прилагая большие эмоции и прибыль. Позже я был в состоянии овладеть мной и мной работа старта, должен был защитить счет на некоторого богатого Клиента, который я думал, не дает проклятое о моем резюме о том, насколько хороший я, не говорить о факте, что я был то, что парень с волшебством заходит в офис, женщины достали, богатые жирные женщины в ней в начале шестидесятых, пахнущий как старая тратта с платежом в долларах. Целая защита оказалась хорошей, это походит на добавление достаточного количества соуса к булочке с начинкой, это только дает Вам правильное чувство, хорошо это в стороне, мой смысл де-javu был все еще там. Уберите остальную часть моих бумаг, тогда я решил не пойти, чтобы завтракать, и я пошел, чтобы проверить старого приятеля, который имеет книжный магазин вниз улица, это было давно, я приехал сюда, я знаю это, прогулки стороны, кажется, сердитый во мне, обвиняя меня в том, чтобы не быть тем заботящимся парнем, которым я был, к несчастью для меня, мой старый приятель сказал ту же самую вещь также, Декан становился старше, что его возраст, который я предполагаю, он имел выключатель его жизнь с его книгами, потому что они выглядели чистыми и хрустящими, не игнорируя запах, который идет со старостью, и инертностью, оставил его место в небольшой спешке, чтобы возвратиться, чтобы работать, почти споткнулся старая леди, которая похожа на мою маму, (Бог благословляют ее душу), .My, отдых дня на работе был примерно моим столом и мной, Энн, мой помощник был только капризен обо дне, Бог знает то, чем история будет сегодня, таким образом я не потрудился спрашивать ее, она ощущала что также и увеличение вина того, чтобы не быть заботящимся на ее лице. Мой счет в банке собирается быть следующей головной болью, я получил примечание от задней части, истекающая дата моей ссуды прибывала весьма ближе, что я думал. Оставленный работу и возвращался домой, решенный, чтобы не взять поезд, из-за последних недель, поезд бомбы нападают, .The автобус прибывал поздно, таким образом я решил ждать, затем я все еще задавался вопросом, собирался ли я получать mugged или выстрел, мой день не собирался заканчиваться как это, кое-что, что это все еще собирается случаться. видел, что некоторые люди собрались в лотерейном магазине, никогда не верил в материал, это был способ правительства заставить нас напряженно трудиться и не думать о проблемах, подошедших на нас. Я позже присоединился к ним, та же самая старая леди, я почти споткнулся, была там, так был Декан, мой помощник и последний человек, я мог вообразить меня целым миром, моим красивым нахальным ближайшим соседом, я играл лотерею, и я выиграл 100.000 $. Так наконец я сделал так, чтобы это натолкнулось на меня наконец, Это был мой удачливый день, ничего себе, никогда не знал, хорошие вещи входят в уродливые пакеты, хорошо я возвращался домой и установил меня к красивой пище. Будильник был настолько громок, я должен был только повернуться и пробудиться,тогда я понял, что это была только мечта. Тогда я понял, как ho бедные и неудачный я был то, прежде, чем я ложился спать вчера вечером,

Does love live here anymore?

When people say they are in love i just look at them and laugh,why?i think fate and love has dealth with me so baD that i can,t believe in it,s doctrine anymore.i once had it all,money,a good job and a dashing handsome Guy who i believed then loved me.Till i woke one day to find out that he was just using me like a rag,to get rid of his past. it was late April,when i met joe,we had it all.its was like all the fun and love on earth outrightly belongs to us.till he started behaving funny,well i thought it was just because i have been giving him too much of what he was hoping to share with me for the rest of our lives. Then he brought the heavy bomb on me,when we broke up.I was lost,hoping never to be found again.I see people around me falling in love,and i telling them ,they are in boundage.Then i came to the conclusion that there is nothing as love. And i ask myself,does love still exists?No will be my answer,until maybe if i get saved my that has left me dead.

Vampires,The Tom Johnson Story

It was just like every other night. work was quite stress full, my boss had told me to take a vacation, I had been acting strange .I know, maybe it was the note that I got from my wife, that had me upset, she just filled for a divorce I really saw it coming marriage had been a vow I wasn’t trying to keep .All along I had this strange dawn trying to cover like a the early morning sun, it got worse when I was at the club two nights ago, me and some friends went in to get some drink, and there she was, at a far corner, east side of the room, I could not see her face but something telling me that she is my deliverer, from what? if I may asking, but the question were not coming, all I could ever think of is that am I her chosen one? All this left me hanging at a cliff top ,I wasn’t afraid of falling, or dying either, I was afraid of change, how long am I going to be trapped in this cage? am letting myself in or .I’m just a willing captive who thinks bondage is necessary. As I left work that night, I took a bus straight home, thank God I wasn’t late for the bus this time .The young man sitting beside has a garlic stink oozing out from his nostrils, he looks careless and weak ,the lady at the other sit was with her headphones on a Rock fanatic I could guess her hairdo speaks it loud. I alighted from the bus, I had arrived at my destination, having a feeling it was my final destination. Another feeling was telling me that I have just started a journey into the unknown. It was really dark, and I was a meters away from the house, then it was more of a felling, then I realised it was really happening ,just like a dream coming true, there she was standing with some people, her own kind of park I could say, the moon was up there having its fun, trying to mock me I guess, shinning so bright it could light up the world. Then I realised the change has come, she came up to me, she smiled ,and there I knew it was not a myth, her eyes were brighter than the sun, her teeth, sharper and looking so fierce like an African warrior ready for battle. Her body was something I had dreamed about wanting it with all fear in me, she was the outcaste of the night, she was my fear, my hope to a better place, my destruction ,my paradise, my change. Her other cronies were all over the place, running wild ,waiting fro her to say something. She was a vampire. But why me? She turned to me, looking at me as a lover will look at her beloved, ”you have always dreamed about me, wanting me,” she said then I knew she was the cause of my problems. Then all life from childhood to this my present state of horror and disarray flashed like a lighting I knew it was more then me, something like a responsibility I wasn’t willing to accept. She came closer and smiled at me I was enchanted by her mere closeness,I felt a deep sweet sharp pain at the left side of my neck, my jugular vein point to be precise. Then that was all I went blank. I woke in a uncivilised environment, sort of a dark palace cave, I was sitting on a chair that represents something of a higher position ,clothed in a funny black regalia, I felt strong and funny ,a little bit itchy, there she was sitting beside me, looking accomplished, like a groom, whose bride has just returned home. Standing in my was the whole park, looking happy. there lost king is back home. She smiled at me, “welcome my prince” she said, then I knew my coming to this place of no definition was an anticipated one. Then I went blank again. I woke up in my room by my Mickey mouse alarm, almost late for work, I got dressed for work in a hurry, I was about boarding the bus, then I had this strong feeling ,like in my dream I saw her passing by, smiling at me. I touched my neck and I realised it wasn’t a dream.

How to recover from a Broken Heart

you have a headache, you get to use drugs that can take care of the headache, if u have a terrible toothache you might use some pain-killers and they will do the magic. What do you get to use when suffering from a broken heart? That’s rhetorical as theirs really nothing useful, the truth about this is that, broken hearts never do heal up completely, it might seem not to be there but looking at it closely it exists, the scars are more terrible than the cursed scar Voldermont left on Harry’s head. Apart from the fact that you can get to find someone who can talk you out of the pains of a broken heart, it’s really a long way in getting your heart mended. Ken my buddy didn’t recover well the last time his 3-year relationship with Eunice went to the knackers, because he declined getting a bigger apartment, ken at times had to hide his caller identity whilst calling her up just to hear her voice or if lucky the answering machine does the job, it got to a point I had to wade into the matter because he was almost losing it then. Find peace within yourself, that’s the first step to take if you want to get to the recovery terminal, forget about your ex-(even if still feel their warmth)try and see beauty in everything around you, believe she left you good because someone better is coming your way. Get yourself to start something new, go for a workout class, explore yoga, join a book reading club, anything positive in nature that will keep you busy and at the same time giving you a chance to discover your inner-self. Exploit something that will bring tranquillity to your being, it’ll help you a lot because you have to find peace within yourself before you can relate and mix well with people successfully. See her as a friend. The funniest language in this world is coincidence, I don’t really know how it happens but its just happens, you keep seeing those people you really don’t want to see, or people you are trying to avoid, and it’s a times in unpleasant situations, meeting them in Bus-stops, trapped in jammed Elevators, at the mall and other places you have no choice but to exchange pleasantries, and really it will be so immature of you to see her and ignore her, especially if she is with someone, she’s going tell your successor that you are still that baby who refuses to grow up, rather than a vendetta, initiate a hug followed by pleasantries. Get introduced to her date and maintain calmness (even though in pretence) but maintain your composure all the way and try not to lose it. Once you can achieve this, then you are ready to date someone provided you are willing to, or would you prefer to still mourn your ex who is busy getting her groove on with some other Romeo. This next approach is really tough, but as tough as it’s effective. Don’t go about changing the pictures, the furniture’s, your bed sheets and stuffs you know will remind you of her, because really their absence will create more damage than just a broken heart, instead polish and utilize them optimally. The fact that she left you doesn’t mean she has to take your personal belongings with her, they are yours. It’s the spirit of Hatred that will make your change your stuffs, so I say let them stay. Make yourself feel good, don’t go about feeling sad and blue because she left you, the world is out there waiting for someone like you to take it on, don’t let her close the door on your face instead leave the door open and let someone special walk in through that door, don’t sit at home gazing an brooding over old pictures, and videos, instead you should be out there taking new pictures and making new videos, you never know MTV or the paparazzi might hire you. And what I will consider the last step; is you start seeing other people, because really you don’t expect her to stay single for life because of you. See old friends, relatives’, college mates and even make new ones. Move around, visit interesting places, there a lot of beautiful ladies out there wondering who will take them home (to mama that is). So why not take another chance and give it a good shot while you’re at it?

Sex and Sexy

I have always wondered on the reasons why a lady has to be beautiful at all cost, flaunting so many attractive features and must always have sex appeal to be seen as a woman, or else she could as well not exist at all or exist as an insignificant 3rd creature created after man and woman. Why should a woman carry this sex thing with her, wherever she goes its not that a man’s mind is deprived at what he sees, he’s just reacting to what he sees "wow you look like a girl I can take home to Mama" he was just trying to be polite he actually meant "…take to the bed". I could accept to the fact that some men could be excessive in rising to the occasion upon sighting a female but what it is, is that, should they be proud of it and flaunt it big time or be proud of it then flaunt it with caution or should they be ashamed of exhuming feminity or sex appeal?. As a proponent of feminty, I will want to define the feminine sexual appeal without depreciating morally. I want to see sex appeal as part of God’s good gift to man and also as a way of life, where women are allowed to spice up their day, be proud of their body, feel comfortable with what they wear without sending out the wrong signals. The issue of sex is a function of the female’s sex appeal, which is because of her sexual awakening. It is something like a call to duty or like a soldier called up to war. ladies rise to the occasion when it comes to flaunting their sex appeal thereby creating an abstract view of what sex might be even though the act itself has not taken place. "Look, its everywhere you see them flaunting the boobs, exposing enough cleavage to be called breast. Swinging those hips in such a way a blind man could hear them talk, exposing their pant and thongs with little or no clothe with it, wearing erotically inclined colognes and perfumes strong enough to make a man jerk off. All this gang on what lies at the bottom heart of those at the receiving ends (MEN) is sex, sex, sex… The final act that fulfill all his hopes and dreams the act that gives the final definition of what a woman’s true sexual appeal is. Men don’t see what the true essence of what sexual appeal is in a woman, they only want to have a taste of those components that builds up the whole essence of womanhood. He sees the true sex appeal in having sex with the woman in bed, the groans and moans, the sucking, licking, biting, sweat and the final outburst of his accumulated input or frustration he has endured for long by the hands of the woman. But really I don’t think its time to differentiate between sex and sex appeal. One should be seen as the exposure celebration of the essence of feminity while the other that explains the act of love showing appreciation to the right one at the right time for the right people (married people). And not otherwise, its time to see a lady walking by looking all sexy and funky to be appreciated and not to be devoured by the lusting eyes of men standing by who have already pictured her in bed with her legs wide apart screaming in so many unheard languages. And ladies please let’s celebrate the true essence of female sex appeal with a sense of modesty and not sticking "playboy images" directly to the faces of men saying "take me, take me I want it". But what it should be saying is that "if you want it, you have to respect it, respect it, love it to earn it. And to all randy men outside I would say "don touch it, leave it. And to the ladies outside there flaunt it".

Before I Sleep

That morning when I woke up, I felt a part was about to leave me, but I could not really figure out what it’s going to be ,but I know it’s coming how it’s going to hit me and when and where is the question.But i know it''s something bad. Got my bag pack and was off to work, a very warm whether, birds chipping, living life like they own it, cool breeze slapping my face without no pain, and the blue clouds seems to be mourning my misfortune to come. well ignoring all shadows of what I feel it’s going to bring me down, but that I don’t understand, I got to work and the first look I got from my female boss, was like "you going down the drain Shawn" I hope the look wasn’t as a result of our last fling, well I was trying to be that that insensitive guy, who just needs sex like a new born baby needs milk, I was just trying to tell her our short relationship was going to be a loose string type, not attaching much emotions and gains. Later I was able to get hold of myself and I starting working, had to defend an account for some rich Client, who I thought doesn’t give a damn about my resume of how good I am, not to talk of the fact that I was that guy with the magic touch at the office, the women came by, a rich fat women in her early sixties, smelling like a old dollar bill. The whole defence turned out good ,it’s like adding enough sauce to burger, it just gives you the right feeling, well that aside my sense of de-javu was still there. Tidy up the rest of my papers, then I decided not to go to lunch and I went to check up an old pal, who owns a bookshop down the street, it’s been long since I came down here, I know it, the side walks seems to be angry at me, accusing me of not being that caring guy I was, unluckily for me my old pal said the same thing too ,Dean was getting older that his age I guess, he had switch his life with his books, because they looked clean and crispy, not ignoring the smell that comes with old age ,and stagnancy, left his place in a little hurry to get back to work, almost tripped on an old lady that looks like my mom,(God bless her soul).My rest of the day at work was just about my desk and me, Ann my assistant was just moody about the day, God knows what the story will be today, so I did not bother to ask her, she sensed that too and increase the guilt of not being caring on her face. My bank account is going to be next headache, I got a note from the back, the expiring date of my loan was coming quite closer that I thought. Left work and was going back home, decided not to take the train ,because of last-weeks, bomb train attack .The bus was coming late so I decided to wait, then I was still wondering if I was going to get mugged or shot, my day was not going to end like this ,something it’s still going to happen. saw some people gathering at a lottery shop, never did believe in the stuff, it was the government’s way of keeping us busy and not thinking about the problems coming up on us. I later joined them, the same old lady I nearly tripped on was there, so was Dean, my assistant and the last person I could imagine I the whole world, my beautiful sassy next door neighbour, I played the lottery and I won $100.000. So finally I had it come upon me finally, It was my lucky day, wow, never knew, good things come in ugly packages, well I got home and fixed myself to a beautiful meal. The alarm clock was so loud I had to just turn and wake up ,then I realized it was just a dream. Then I realized how ho poor and unlucky I had been before I went to bed last night, That morning when I woke up, I felt a part was about to leave me, but I could not really figure out what it’s going to be ,but I know it’s coming how it’s going to hit me and when and where is the question.But i know it''s something bad. Got my bag pack and was off to work, a very warm whether, birds chipping, living life like they own it, cool breeze slapping my face without no pain, and the blue clouds seems to be mourning my misfortune to come. well ignoring all shadows of what I feel it’s going to bring me down, but that I don’t understand, I got to work and the first look I got from my female boss, was like "you going down the drain Shawn" I hope the look wasn’t as a result of our last fling, well I was trying to be that that insensitive guy, who just needs sex like a new born baby needs milk, I was just trying to tell her our short relationship was going to be a loose string type, not attaching much emotions and gains. Later I was able to get hold of myself and I starting working, had to defend an account for some rich Client, who I thought doesn’t give a damn about my resume of how good I am, not to talk of the fact that I was that guy with the magic touch at the office, the women came by, a rich fat women in her early sixties, smelling like a old dollar bill. The whole defence turned out good ,it’s like adding enough sauce to burger, it just gives you the right feeling, well that aside my sense of de-javu was still there. Tidy up the rest of my papers, then I decided not to go to lunch and I went to check up an old pal, who owns a bookshop down the street, it’s been long since I came down here, I know it, the side walks seems to be angry at me, accusing me of not being that caring guy I was, unluckily for me my old pal said the same thing too ,Dean was getting older that his age I guess, he had switch his life with his books, because they looked clean and crispy, not ignoring the smell that comes with old age ,and stagnancy, left his place in a little hurry to get back to work, almost tripped on an old lady that looks like my mom,(God bless her soul).My rest of the day at work was just about my desk and me, Ann my assistant was just moody about the day, God knows what the story will be today, so I did not bother to ask her, she sensed that too and increase the guilt of not being caring on her face. My bank account is going to be next headache, I got a note from the bank, the expiring date of my loan was coming quite closer that I thought. Left work and was going back home, decided not to take the train ,because of last-weeks, bomb train attack .The bus was coming late so I decided to wait, then I was still wondering if I was going to get mugged or shot, my day was not going to end like this ,something it’s still going to happen. saw some people gathering at a lottery shop, never did believe in the stuff, it was the government’s way of keeping us busy and not thinking about the problems coming up on us. I later joined them, the same old lady I nearly tripped on was there, so was Dean, my assistant and the last person I could imagine I the whole world, my beautiful sassy next door neighbour, I played the lottery and I won $100.000. So finally I had it come upon me finally, It was my lucky day, wow, never knew, good things come in ugly packages, well I got home and fixed myself to a beautiful meal. The alarm clock was so loud I had to just turn and wake up ,then I realized it was just a dream. Then I realized how poor and unlucky I had been before I went to bed last night,

Dreams

Dreams, according to the Oxford Advance Learners Dictionary, can be defined as a series of events, images ,and feelings ,that happen in your mind while asleep: or a state of mind or situation in which things do not seems to be real. To me a dream, is just a part of our second life. something like the inactive part of our life, we only activate it, when we sleep. A place where we escape to, from all the troubles of these world, not really peaceful to say, because our nightmares still’s stain’s the place up with it’s ugly colour, making the place, a place of horror, and at the same time, our little safe abode. But if we can only channel our mindful resources right, we might be able to make the best use of our dreams. Dreams can be the highest point in our lives A place where our hopes and visions stand a better chance of surviving .A chance of been realized and exploited. Dreams are spiritually inclined, a small fraction of our dreams goes a long way in re-shaping our lives here on earth. As a necessary means to an end, dreams are necessary to life .A man who does not Dream is not living. Such a man can be considered dead only not clinically. In a dream you can do those things you can’t get to do in the real world A place where you can set your marks, and reach an impossible height of achievement .And at the same time, dreams can be seen as acting ingredients that sharpens a man’s life. Take a look at the Biblical Character of Joseph” the dreamer” a man who took his own destiny into his hands through his dreams, he ruled his entire family, he was framed ,locked up in a prison, there he encountered two of Pharaoh’s best service men, his butler and his baker, there he re-defined the two men’s life. And also saw his way up to be the Prime minister of the Egypt province. The kind of dreams you have, determine what you like would be like ,it’s like a prologue to a book, that explains what one should expect in the book, Defining it’s style and content. Great War lords like Alexzendra the Great, Adolf Hitler, Julius Caesar have had dreams that have affected their lives, positively or negatively either encouraging them to purse or abandon their campaign. Also revolutionary leaders have had their share of the illusioned world too, like of Malcolm X ,Martin Luther King Jr, Winston Churchill and the rest. The power within a dream ,should not be underestimated, because the true fact about dreams is that ,they determine how much you will be going in life .Alfred Tennyson said ”Dreams are true while they last ,and do not we live in dreams?” .This explains the luxury one enjoys in the dream world, where you can be whatever you wish to be, the President of the United States, the British Prime Minister, a drug lord. But all these are just only true while they last, because really we don’t live in dreams, it’s just a temporary illusioned world .And before you know it, you are back to the same world same position you were. Sean ,a eighteen year old boy, born and raised on the wild side of Brooklyn New-York has had it all ,from neglect as an infant, to child molestation ,to abuse from a broken family, to deprivation of the basic ingredients of livelihood .coupled with the fact that education seems not to have a place for him in her curriculum .The parents were even to poor to realise that education and good health is necessary. He moved into the street, .became a gang member and a drug peddler. Well the streets, itself has its own way of getting rid of it’s unnecessary elements, got arrested and sent off to jail .the last hope for a better tomorrow. his mom got cleaned off drugs, and reconciled with the husband ,got a better job, and suddenly things were getting better in the house. Only that he was not there to see it happen. So what he did was that, each time he wants to have his share of the new happiness at home, he sleeps and dreams of it. when asked why he sleeps so much, he said “so that I can escape and be with my family at anytime I wish to ”he even at times describes happenings at home. This at times confirms what is going on at his house. Poor Sean never made it back home, he was stabbed in the bathroom , by a rival gang member, just three days to when he will be getting released. On his dying bed at the hospital, he smiled and told his mom, that she can still have him back anytime she wants, But only In her DREAMS.