Walking The Green Mile

                                                                        (Photo credit: Flickr)

‘The Green Mile’ is a 1996 serial novel written by the prolific writer Stephen King. I watched the movie a few days ago and the finality of the film astounded me. The film also expounded on living, healing, empathy, racism, supernatural, love, and friendship,

Someone once wrote that we’re all on death row, it’s a price we have to pay for being alive. The important thing is, have we lived at all?

Now today, I would like to write about living your life to the fullest. Which brought me to this song ‘Forever Young.’ I loved it when it came out, the only song by ‘Jay-Z’ that I understood, although I must confess I don’t know the lyrics to most of the rapping but it’s a song that filled me with nostalgic memories.

Growing up in the idyllic town of Ilorin in Africa, life was simple and filled with lots of laughter. There was this carefree attitude to things, I believed I would be forever young. I was a bookworm, if I wasn’t singing in the church choir, you’ll find me in choreography practice. I loved my growing-up years.

Now twenty-five years later, things I took for granted then are so important now. The fierce sun blazing relentlessly on my pale skin, the cold December month squeezing the blood out of my lips, running away from my mum after plundering the pantry, checking my dad’s room for loose coins, chasing after my cantankerous brothers, watching horror films with my favourite brother and, daydreaming about the future!

What did I miss? Oh yes, my first kiss! Oh, my! That was something else, and I won’t be getting into that now. I am discovering new memories; I am telling new stories with my family, friends, and people I associate with.

The thing with life and living is, every moment is significant, and we need to cherish it. As we walk down the green miles of our lives, let’s leave a jolly legacy.

I intend to do just that.

I believe everyone would have a wonderful Bank holiday, at least here in the UK. If you’re my friend and reading this from other parts of the world, have a blast this weekend! 🙂

Much love, always!

 

Today’s Ours…

 

Life’s full of uncertainties, and honestly, we just have to live on regardless of what the day may bring.

How do we really deal with stuff we aren’t expecting? Do we curl up in a ball and bawl our eyes out, or do we just ride the storm? Do we fight with clenched teeth ready to conquer? I say we live each day believing that we have the strength to overcome whatever comes our way.

Ruby Dee was an American actress and writer’s whose words positively impacted my life:

Today is ours, let’s live it.
And love is strong, let’s give it.
A song can help, let’s sing it.
And peace is dear, let’s bring it.
The past is gone, don’t rue it.
Our work is here, let’s do it.
The world is wrong, let’s right it.
The battle is hard, let’s fight it.
The road is rough, let’s clear it.
The future’s vast, don’t fear it.
Is faith asleep? Let’s wake it.
Because today is ours, let’s take it.

 

 

I hope you’ll all enjoy the rest of your wonderful weekend.

Let’s live each day to the full!

Much love, always.

The Ruins Can Come To Life!

 

‘In life, you can’t walk in a straight line, events have a habit of derailing your plans, so be prepared”.

Peter Nelson.

Well, Peter Nelson was my late dad, and he said these words to me and my husband on our wedding day. Things happen that you may not have control over, so get on with your life.

However, it is easier said than done.

I have experienced loss in a deep and personal way, and in my moment of anguish and pain, I actually believed I wouldn’t be able to go on but I did. Time heals, the pain remains in a way but the miracle of time is that it lessens and you would be able to move on.

This past year has seen huge changes on the global stage, and things would always be changing. My dad’s words always echoed in my mind, ‘be prepared.’ I should be prepared for changes, hopefully, positive changes. Which brings to mind other questions.

How do we truly enjoy life when we’re faced with debilitating circumstances?

Imagine a wife abandoned by her husband, ran off with a younger version of his wife. How would she begin the arduous task of rebuilding her life? Or a woman who fell out of love with her husband and left the family home. How would the man rebuild his life?

What about a young life blighted by drugs? How could such a life be transformed?

The scenarios above may well change. I’ve seen couples on the verge of divorce getting together again, and drug addicts living sane, fruitful lives. Miracles do happen. But often times, we have to create it.

I believe the ruins can come to life.

What miracles are in the offing around you?

Enjoy the rest of your weekend friends!

Much love, always. 🙂

 

Solemn London

 

(Extremism is like a cancer, eating deep into our freedom…)

As a lover of peace, freedom, and justice, I am appalled and sickened by the continuous senseless attack on innocent people by Islamist Extremism. Enough is enough! This evil must be rooted out, we can’t allow this to continue. Things has to change. Our tolerance as a nation is akin to weakness, most of my friends, even Muslims, believed as a country, we’ve pandered towards Islamist extremism, we need that to stop!

As a Christian, I can’t openly practice my faith if I were in Saudi Arabia but here in the UK, and every part of Europe, Muslims are free to practice their faith. I believe liberalism and political correctness is changing the landscape of this country.

In the wake of the Manchester and London Bridge Attack, I read William Blake’s poem with tears in my eyes!

I wandered through each chartered street,
Near where the chartered Thames does flow,
A mark in every face I meet,
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

In every cry of every man,
In every infant’s cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forged manacles I hear:

How the chimney-sweeper’s cry
Every blackening church appals,
And the hapless soldier’s sigh
Runs in blood down palace-walls.

But most, through midnight streets I hear
How the youthful harlot’s curse
Blasts the new-born infant’s tear,
And blights with plagues the marriage-hearse.

************

 Islamist terrorism will not prevail in our nation but I also believe the Muslim communities have a lot to do to eradicate the vermin of extremism.

What are the Imams teaching young impressionable youths in their mosques? Why are young virile Muslims full of hatred and bitterness against Westernisation? I do believe that most of those who hate this country shouldn’t have any business living here.

There would continually be an excuse for evil to reign. The West had been blamed for majority of the crisis in the Middle East but if I remember correctly, the Arab Spring was not caused by the West. I believe in love, forgiveness, and peace. But I also believe in justice. And if there was one consolation to the debacle and orgy of violence unleashed on our cities in recent days, the death of the three cowardly Jihadists was decisive and just.

In this sad times, I pray for the families of everyone affected by the Manchester and London Bridge Attack. As our Prime Minister had said, Enough Is Enough!!!

A Liar In Heaven

Tobias Amos slid the knife into the drawers, stealing a quick look back. He stared at his hands in dismay; it was as red as the sweet chilli sauce Mama bought a day earlier.

‘Where are you, Tobias?’

Mama’s voice bellowed a few yards away. He scanned the room in nanoseconds; saw the red gown Mama loved wearing on special occasions hanging loosely on the sparsely filled wardrobe. He dashed towards it, yanked it off the rails, wrapping it delicately around his crimson fingers, allowing the blood to soak through, his eyes the colour of a limpid pool.

He closed his eyes and was transported to the events of eighty-six thousand four hundred seconds earlier. He could feel the knife ripping through the supple milky flesh, the bones cracked, the gurgles of blood splintered about the basement like the paintings of Michelangelo. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his long scrawny neck.

Mama entered the tiny room, she took in everything, the deranged look on her son’s face belied the calmness she felt. Tobias Amos stood still like a statue, watching his mother’s reaction.

There was an uneasy silence.

‘What have you done?’ She asked in an icy tone, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

There was no answer. He kept his eyes down, all the feeling of conquest and elation he’d felt had evaporated like a mist in the night.

‘Tobias Amos, what have you done?’ This time, Mama inched closer, towering over her whimpering son, whose bravado had dissipated…

******

I haven’t written for quite a while but today, this just came pouring out. I have lots of manuscripts I’m working on, and lumping this with other unfinished projects is a mammoth task. However, I don’t believe in letting a good story plot go to waste. We’ll see how this goes!

I hope you’ll all have a wonderful weekend. I’ve visited several websites and blogs, if I haven’t been to yours, please bear with me, I’ll touch base soon.

Much love friends!

:):)

Here In Paradise…

                                                                                    (Photo credit: Flickr)

On Friday, March 10th, 2017, it was precisely 7.25 in the morning as I walked up the steps of Westminster Station en-route my office. I walked briskly, mentally calculating ‘my-to-do-list’ for the day and then like an image out of a disaster movie, I saw two people, a man and a woman. The man was hovering over the woman, his lips quivering, his gait was like a man under the influence of alcohol, he tried to move away from the woman and almost fell. My gaze turned to the woman, her pale face had obviously borne the brunt of living on the street. Her face was lined with weariness, her eyes devoid of happiness.

I stopped in my tracks.

I didn’t know if I should offer money, or simply give a hug. People pushed past me, a man swore under his breath, but it was loud enough for me to hear the words. I fidget with my bag and moved out of the way, my heart broke into a thousand pieces as I watched them.

The man and the woman were oblivious of my presence, and sadly, I turned away.

Here in paradise, (at least that could be the thoughts of millions of people in other parts of the world) we shouldn’t have homeless people. Throughout the day, I couldn’t concentrate on anything. There was something about that couple, they may as well be working in one of the imposing offices in Whitehall, or maybe, as tourists keen to see where most decisions in the UK were made.

Centerpoint is a charity here in the UK helping homeless young people but what about middle age people, old men and women? I have a passion for the homeless, although I’ve read that some do make themselves ‘intentionally homeless,’ but still, I couldn’t expunge their image out of my mind.

I did some further research and realised that there are many homeless charities all around us. Below are some of the charities in London:

There’s also West London YMCA, they  provide the same services as most of the organisations I’ve listed above. I think if we live in paradise, we should be able to do more for people less fortunate than we are (I know, we’re not all millionaires but we could always volunteer at a homeless shelter). I will volunteer at some of these wonderful charities doing such wonderful jobs, changing people’s lives.

If you’re living in other parts of the world, it wouldn’t hurt to give money to a beggar you see on the street or a homeless person. Some of you reading this may think, ‘well, she’s so naïve, most of these folks are drug addicts and rapists… maybe murderers.’

Maybe, some of them are, but some aren’t. Life’s just dealt them a hard hand.

Maybe Phil Collin’s song, ‘Another Day In Paradise’ would be a great way to finish this article.

I hope you’ll all enjoy the rest of your weekend.

Much love to you friends, always!

🙂 🙂

 

 

Brave Heart

 

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(Photo Credit: Flickr)

”Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.” Desmond Tutu

***

John Parker wanted to tell the kind man who’d saved him from death, but the words caught in his throat. He mumbled inaudibly then coughed loudly. He desperately wanted to unburden and bare his soul to Anselm but realised his new friend would probably call him a monster.

Time dragged on, and Parker waited. The silence in the room was as thick as a winter fog. How could he utter such words to a total stranger? How could he tell Anselm that his girlfriend of 12 years had been diced to pieces and kept inside his deep freezer. Why? Anselm may ask. ‘Oh,’ he may simply shrug his skinny shoulders and just give an excuse, maybe, because he caught her cheating and their seven-year old daughter, Amber, wasn’t his after all. How could he tell Anselm that he, Parker, was a psycho, a sociopath, a sadist whose pain went deeper than imagined? How in heaven’s name could he tell his new pal that he’d been in prison; a prison of the mind where walls whispered obscenities and the only respite he got would be to slash himself open. How could he say such words?

‘I don’t think I should be in this room,’ Parker finally said and a sad sigh escaped his trembling lips. ‘I should go now.’

He stood up but Anselm stopped him with a wave of his large hands.

‘Sit down,’ the older man said firmly. Parker obeyed, his eyes staring straight ahead.

‘You’ve done bad things. I see it in your eyes. Even there’s pain in death, killing yourself doesn’t make it all go away. Get yourself treated, ask forgiveness and turn yourself in. There’s still redemption son.’

John Parker stared at Anselm. His English was flawless, he’d dropped the German accent.

‘Who are you?’ Parker asked slowly.

‘I’m your conscience,’ was the apt reply and the room began to spin.

John woke up with a start, his heart beating wildly. He sat up and checked the bedside clock. It was 3 a.m. in the morning. He’d been dreaming, it was a huge relief but the incident in the dream wasn’t far from reality, his eyes sought his wife of 12 years who was sleeping soundly. He’d been hiding the voices in his head well, it was difficult explaining to his GP that he’d been battling severe depression for three years. After the loss of his job and his wife became the breadwinner, he’d slowly sunk deeper into the quagmire of depression.

There’s only one brave thing left to do, he tapped his wife gently on the shoulder, it’s better safe than sorry, he thought.

***

NP: Guys, I’m sorry I couldn’t post this story yesterday, I tried but life just got in the way. I totally had a different plot to this story but then, it occurred to me that men hide their frailty. They go through life as brave hearts, pillars, unmovable and then they crumple! If you’re a man reading this, please, don’t bottle things up if you’re not well. Life is in phases. Talk to your spouse, close friend or even your doctor. Depression affects a lot of people in our society today and some needless deaths could easily have been avoided if things hadn’t gotten out of hand.

The first part of this story is here if you want to catch up: https://seyisandradavid.org/2015/08/11/dreaming-when-awake/

I hope you’ll all have a wonderful weekend!

Much love, always!! 🙂

Failure Is Not Terminal!

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 (Photo credit: Flickr)

“I really don’t think life is about the I-could-have-beens. Life is only about the I-tried-to-do. I don’t mind the failure but I can’t imagine that I’d forgive myself if I didn’t try.” Nikki Giovanni

“No man ever achieved worth-while success who did not, at one time or other, find himself with at least one foot hanging well over the brink of failure.” Napoleon Hill

“It is hard to fail, but it is worse never to have tried to succeed.” Theodore Roosevelt

When we have peace within ourselves, we can think clearly. I stared at this picture for ages and it gvae such tremendius joy!

Just like this amazing creature, let’s pause and gather our strength, we can succeed!

I love these three quotes on what I’ll call ‘the near success syndrome’ a.k.a failure. Life is so dynamic yet mysterious and sometimes, what we call failure could well be delay. My dad used to say that the fear of failure mostly propelled him to succeed. He did failed miserably in some aspects of his life, but he succeeded in several as well. To ignore failure or looming failure, we must have courage. Courage is also borne out of the ability to build on one’s failure and squeeze success out of it, Abraham Lincoln failed continuously before he became the celebrated figure most people adore today.

I also believe that dreams have a way of taunting us if we don’t do much about it, I don’t think losing or failing should discourage or cut our enthusiasm short. Succinctly put, don’t give up! There’s more to learn from failing than not attempting something in the first place. I also believe that success derived from failure is the sweetest of all.

I don’t why I’m writing this, but if it touches someone to continue living and not give up on their dreams, then I’m happy.

NP: I’m still hard at work writing my books, it’s not as fast I would have loved but it’s still worth it. I’ll still ensure I visit all your blogs as time permits. I appreciate your friendship and visits guys, thank you!

I hope everyone would enjoy the rest of this great week!!

Much love, always. 🙂

The Bystanders

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(Photo credit: Flickr)

Today marked the 7oth year of the liberation of that notorious death trap in Poland, Auschwitz. It’s a solemn day for the 300 hundred survivors who attended. Roman Kent, who gave a very moving speech where he implored people not to become bystanders, those words stood out for me. The word struck a chord in my heart, and I realise that by and large, we could be guilty of being a bystander.

We can do more to make the world a better place, but rather, we sometimes turn our eyes away, thinking, ‘it’s not my problem, I’ve got enough of my own.’ True, we all have one baggage or the other tied to our tired gait, but if every human on this planet (minus ISIS, Hezbollah, Al Qaeda, Boko Haram  and all those crazed lunatics prancing about killing innocent people in the name of their blood sucking god, they relish in murders anyway), decides to stamp out evil, malice, hatred and our differences, we would be living in a crime-free world indeed.

I don’t want to be a bystander, I really don’t. If we all feel like that, maybe, there would be a chance that the world would prevent another near annihilation of innocent people.

For this post not to be an irony, I have to state categorically that Auschwitz is practically repeating itself all over the world. Killings of civilians continue unabated while the world looks on unperturbed. If I were to be the president of the world, I would abolish all weapons of mass destruction. However, since I am not, and would never be, I think I would be able to abolish hatred on my street.

Spreading a little love around need not bring any ills to the giver, and while I go to work daily afraid of a bomb going off by a crazed Jihadist, I still have hope that one day, all that ails the world would soon be forgotten.

I know we can’t choose where we come from but we can choose where we go from there.

I remain your loyal friend. 🙂

NP: I have missed several posts from some of you, please bear with me friends. This new adventure I’d recently embarked upon (writing two novels at once) makes me search for time, but I would find it and visit your lovely sites soon!

Much love, always! 🙂

Unknown

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”It is said that in 1923, seven of the world’s most successful men met at a Chicago hotel: the president of the largest independent steel company, the president of the largest utility company, the greatest wheat speculator, the president of the New York Stock Exchange, a member of the President’s Cabinet, the president of the Bank of International Settlements and the president of the world’s greatest monopoly. Collectively these tycoons controlled more money than there was in the United States’ Treasury.

Now, fast forward 25 years and let’s see what happened to them. Charles Schwab, president of the largest independent steel company, lived the last five years of his life on borrowed money and died a pauper. Arthur Cooger, the greatest wheat speculator, shot himself. Richard Whitney, president of the New York Stock Exchange, spent three years in prison. Albert Fall, a member of the President’s cabinet, went to prison for bribery. Leon Fraser, president of the U.S. Bank of International Settlements, shot himself. Ivan Kreuger, head of one of the world’s largest monopolies, also committed suicide. If the recent economic upheaval has taught us anything, it’s that money brings neither security nor happiness.”

I agree with the writer of the above stories that we ought to use our money to reach a hurting world with love because that’s the essence of life, the only way we could truly live. I read this a few weeks back and it had a profound effect on me and I thought, why not throw this open and find out what others think?

Now I’ve got a question for you guys! Where do you think you’ll be in 25 years? I get to choose the best answer and whosoever got this right and I’m sure many would. 🙂 would enter my world of creation, which means that I’ll use the best answer to write a short story based on the commenter’s vision of the kind of life he or she would be living in 25 years’ time.

In the meantime, you can all listen to these awesome guys, their song is truly refreshing! You can achieve a lot if you put your mind to it! And in 25 years, you could be on top of the world…

I know I’m creature of impulse but I just feel like doing this! 🙂

So where do I think I’ll be 25 years time? Hmmmnn, I wonder…

Love you always guys! 🙂