atoms&void

1.  "I don't know why but I feel adamant about going to that town. I used to be eager but now I feel indifferent. I am also not certain about what the future holds for me there. A land of red earth and a beautiful sunset - It sure sounds like a daydream but what is the point of going to a place that is filled with uncertainty for the future? Who wants to lead a blind life. Who? I do not want to leave. Come Monday, I do not want to ride with that bus which will take me 200 miles away from the comfort of my home. My anxiety has never been more out of place. O ti rẹ mi gaan . Nsukka, I am not coming to you with open arms, rather I am coming to you with clinched fists, my anxiety and some money for okpa ." 2.   The bus pulled into the park at about 9pm on Monday evening. It had rained for most of the journey and as the vehicle wheeled on the partially flooded roads, you couldn't help but feel like you were never going to make it. The two boys who sat behind you ...

I make friends with people for the smallest reasons and I thought it was worth writing about. My social skills are surprisingly high. I don't like crowds but at the same time, I can randomly walk up to anyone just to tell them I like the color of their shirt. I'm one of those persons that enjoys watering people with compliments, even if I don't know them. I like people and I also do not like people. Sometimes, I feel like I'm a contradiction to myself. I feel a lot. You can even say I'm a FILA . Also, I am very very horrible at making puns. I get shy sometimes but the gra-gra quality in me will not let me give it away. I grew up in Sapele. People who come from here are not soft and amicable. So it grew on me. I could come off as rude but in my own defense, I'd say I was only trying to defend myself. You know, in these parts, you always have to expect danger. So, how I am able to make friends with people still baffles me. The most recent of those-fri...

When I was five years old, my mother was critically ill. She was in and out of the hospital like a clumsy drug dealer going in and out of jail. She was always weak and could not even bring herself to bath her own body. She was sick for over a year. Here's the full story, but at some point, everything will begin to fade away. In the middle of the night, a day after I had just turned six, I was awakened by the sounds of people shouting. They were calling Jesus and asking Him to come and take control. My elder sister, Sister Kim, was also crying and praying. I had never seen her pray before in my whole life. I walked up to where they were gathered and I saw my mummy in the middle. She was lying on the floor and blood was coming out of her mouth so I began shouting "Mummy! Mummy!" My daddy saw me and immediately told me to go to the room. So I did as I was told. On my way to the room, I heard Papa Maro, our neighbor, saying "I still have fuel in my okada, let us ...

6:45AM On a Thursday morning, I wake up feeling grunted. In my sleep, I dreamt about this; A Pastor walks up to me after church. He tells me he wants go speak with me and he even calls my father to join in on the conversation.  He tells me I am too young to die. He says all the money my father has spent on training me through school cannot go down the drain. He shakes his head, he feels bitter. He frowns so hard that lines appears on his face. Then he says 'we need to kill a cow for sacrifice, otherwise she would kill herself. She would commit suicide.' My father is displeased. He orders that a cow be brought forth for the sacrifice. They do as he says.  The Pastor takes off his shirt and bounces on the cow with a sharp cutlass. There is blood everywhere and surprisingly, the cow didn't rascal before falling to the ground and dying on the spot. It bleeds to death and then the pastor friend says 'She is no longer going to die but do watch her intently.' * My phone is...

    It is 21:19, it's night time and I am outside, seated outside my  hostel. The air is cool, a faint smell of urine from a nearby toilet hovers above my head. A young lady in her early twenties sitting nearby strokes the strings of her guitar as she hums slowly to one of Timi Dakolo's song " Medicine ". There is a tingling sensation in my head or my heart. I think it's my mind, there's a tingling sensation in one of those. Isn't it just magical what the strings of a guitar carefully handled by a professional could to to your spirit, soul and body? I get why David's strokes on the harp calmed King Saul's nerves. I feel some sort of connection to the deranged king, I think we share the same bond. We're both crazy but all for the wrong reasons.    I like a boy. I know I say it all the time but this time, I'm serious about it. He's light skinned (not usually my type but the heart wants what the heart wants) he has nice hair, a weirdly str...

Hi, my name is Atoms&Void I was born in the most beautiful time of the year  In April, not December  My cousin says I broke the dawn I haven't broken anything since then I cry more than it is appropriate to I laugh more often than I cry  I weigh 55kg  I don't know how to ride a bike or to swim or to laugh without shutting my mouth with my hands  I love John Green and cakes and sunsets  I eat cake everyday  I hate chocolates People say I am plain, like an open book People also say I am mysterious and difficult to figure out  I think people are confused  My thoughts are mummies  They scares the shit out of me I am 5'5 but 6'2 at heart  I am straight but I respect all gender orientations  I will love you for as long as I can  My definition of long is three months  My eye bags are not a result of lack of sleep, they carry the tears I have refused to pour out  I am horrible at making decisions  My smile is li...

What exactly makes one a photographer? I've seen some stupid posts made by people who are clearly bitter and enjoy getting off over people's self-esteem. Posts like: "Just because you took a shot of some flowers, clouds, the sky, people, objects etc doesn't mean you're a photographer." "All clould photos look good, you're not a photographer." What then makes a person a photographer?  Owing a camera and being conversant with the different camera angles? Apparently putting watermarks on the photographs you shot, by yourself, doesn't make you a photographer either. Some of the shots I am going to post do not have watermarks on them. I own all copyrights to these.  I bet this still doesn't necessarily mean I'm a photographer. Next.  Good enough?                     Still not good enough?    ??? "AlL siLhoUettE loOk gOoD yoUr nOt A pHoTogRaPhER"                   ...

This lock down nor be small thing e don cause Boys dey hungry boys not get work Ejiro na girl for the compound she carry stove dey cook stew Boys wey they lament inside houz begin jolificate say time don due "Wetin we go do like this" Efetobore ask Tega "Shey we get rice make we boil rice, this one go mega" Na so boys take boil rice for another man stew This na the story of the things wey dey happen for the street One hour later Efe and Tega carry plate go Ejiro gate "Who dey houz o" Efe talk. "Hope say we nor late" Ejiro open her door, she tie wrapper, she get big bust "Wetin be this" Ejiro ask dey look the plate wey them hold Tega con talk say "Give us small stew na small we want nor want overload" Ejiro change am for them "Shey una dey mad? which kind level be this na" The boys sidon for ground say she must kill them now now Landlord con come outside Wetin be all this commotion about The boy...

Picture this. I am standing in the middle of a garden, dressed in a sun dress with my hair tied up in a messy bun I am a dark sink girl and my feet is bare. In my hands, I am holding a rose flower. I pluck out a petal and with ever petal I pluck out, I wispher "he loves me", "he loves me not". When the petals have all come off, I slowly sit and curl myself into a ball. I curl myself into the smallest form I can be and laugh loudly. I laughed because what he doesn't know is that wild hearts can't be broken.

I am writing this 48 hours after I took an indefinite leave from my social media accounts. For the past 48 hours, I have been able to successfully immerse myself in a few books. I'd only mention two. •Fifty Shades of Grey by  COLLEEN HOVER • Maybe Someday by  JEN STERLING Both are filled with the normalized cliché sentences and quite a handful of descriptions of the opposite gender that made me cringe with disgust. I only came to the conclusion today that I shall abandon my long love interest for romance novels because they are all mostly a farce. They never happen in real life. Why didn't I know this any sooner? How did I survive through 8 years of my reading life sticking my head inbetween pages of stories that were always blown out of proportion? How am I only realizing this, days before I turn 21? I never felt this way about romance novel before and I know just the reason for this. I have fallen in love— with an almost  twenty-fucking-seven, awkward,...

Hi, I saw you the other day at the restaurant. You were waiting in line. I saw how often you tossed your handkerchief from one hand to the other. I'm sorry but I couldn't help but notice how your hands trembled and when the waiter asked what you wanted, your voice was barely above a whisper. I watched you walk around in search of an empty seat at the restaurant. You settled for the area that was less crowded. I want to know who hurt you. I could see the pains in your eyes. I want to know why you chose to be by yourself. Your eyes were bloodshot red and the way they twitched, it was as though they were trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to let loose. I wanted to go over and give you a warm pat on the back, tell you everything is going to be alright, make you smile and even if would have lasted for only a few seconds, I wanted to know what your laughter sounded like, maybe like crackling bits of wood at a bonfire? I'm sorry but blame my cowardice for not ...

16. Pick a girl or a boy, whichever you're into. 15. Ask them out for lunch or dinner or whatever. 14. Have fun with them basically. Listen to them talk, if you're going to make it work, you have to listen. 13. Proclaim your love to them. 12. Tell them you love them despite their flaws. Speak metaphors to them, tell them that their smile is the face of the sun on a beautiful April morning. Tell them that they are a work of art, that the patch of hair by the side of their face doesn't make them look like half man-half goat, instead it made them unique, one of a kind, the last book on the shelf in the library of life or whatever. Tell them that their laughter is a beautiful symphony, tell them that the sky was adorned with a crimson moon the night they came forth from their mother's outstretched legs. 11. Talk to them everyday, I mean everyday.  Tell them you'll stay forever, till infinity. I'm talking about everlasting love. 10. Do not ask for a ...