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The blogging sphere has crowded up very quickly in the past decade and it even looks like YouTube is taking over. Starting a blog in 2021 se...

Thursday 31 December 2015

Come my dear




I'm seeing him for the first time tomorrow 
I'm excited 
but tensed 
I don't know what to expect 
I'm curious 
A little worried
what he is going to look like

Something in me tells me there's something good in him
Like I'm going to discover myself, live the life I've always wanted 
I'm going to be happy 
I'm eager to see him
Yet I'm concerned
I want to be free
Will he let me live my fantasies
Or will he make me rot in the drudgery of expected roles?

I can't wait to embrace him
But I want to be assured I'll be safe with him

I have mixed feelings 

Queasy yet expectant 
Like one who's expecting,
anticipating yet a little worried about the pangs

When tomorrow comes
I'll be with him
And I'll do my best
And trust God for the rest

Come my dear 2016!



 ©Radiant~ December 2015

Saturday 26 December 2015

Confessions of the Lachrymose




It seems I was thoroughly misunderstood in my last post. I got calls from concerned friends telling me to be strong-hearted 'cause life is tough and I'll face worse situations. I've decided to write this to explain what I casually said then. Maybe someone would be able to relate to it and proffer help based on experience. 

There are some people that have larger tear glands than others. They say they have the gift of tears. They are not necessarily emotional people. A lot of times their crying has nothing to do with how they feel about the situation they are crying about. Let me tell you how it is with me. 

I could cry wolf in emotional events and I could cry same in ordinary events. I cry when I see excellence displayed like when I'm in a concert, watching a singer or a dancer. I remember crying the first time I saw Jackie Evancho's YouTube videos. I still cry when I watch those performances she did when she was ten/eleven. It's understandable that I cried for Passion of the Christ but amusing to some that I wailed while watching Akeelah and the bee. I cry in situations when I feel humiliated. The other day, I was to alight from a bus. The driver had refused to stop completely, expecting us to jump off while it was still in motion. The lady before me jumped off and as I was about to join her, the bus sprinted off, sending me sprawling across the tarmac. I felt so humiliated. By the time I turned to the driver who had by now stopped (I'm guessing under the influence of raged passengers), I burst into tears. I tried to stop it but I only cried the more. I boarded a Napep and still couldn't stop crying though I didn't incur any injury as to make me cry. The motherly woman beside me noticed and pepped me up. 'Don't worry Jesus knows your pain', she said. I wished I could tell her 'don't worry ma'am. I'm fine', but she wouldn't have believed me. 

Recently, I went to submit an application in LUTH for myself and my friends. I had convinced one of them to give it a try though she hadn't finished Youth Service. I had gone through all the rigors: going to the cyber cafe, bank, filling forms, making photocopies, I had reached the last stage- time to submit. Then the man said he had closed 'cause it was past 4pm. I persisted, begged, bought him Malt to cool his brain, yet he was adamant. After much dilly dallying, he finally agreed, sulkily. While he was sorting out the forms, he noticed one didn't have NYSC cert. You should have seen the glee on his face as he gave me back that form and led me to the door. He practically threw me out of his office and locked it up. I didn't follow him out immediately because I was already sobbing. I didn't want him to see me crying. I wasn't crying for being thrown out of the office but for the fact that I was the one who encouraged my friend to apply and she had gone through the rigors of sending the forms through her brother, even the money she wasted buying it. 

You should understand that in these situations, I did not want to cry. It is rather embarrassing to see an adult cry like that in public. If I could voluntarily stop it, I would have. I wasn't seeking attention. In fact, I try to run away from such situations and when it happens I try to stay on my own so as not to cause a scene.

My lachrymosity comes in handy when a crying role is needed in our plays. Because it comes easy, I do it perfectly and people think 'Oh, she's such a good actress'. Lol. Sometimes, it paves way for me. Like once I was in a bank, after standing on queue for 4 hours, it was finally my turn and the teller said she was sorry, that their server was bad. I didn't know when tears began to roll down my cheeks. She noticed and asked what was wrong. I said nothing. She went inside, talked to someone, came out and collected my slip, processed it in an inner office and handed me my money. Or once I went to complain at EKEDC office about the disconnection of our power supply. I was talking in anger and next I knew I began to cry. The poor man was helpless, he didn't know when he asked me to sit down, called his foot soldiers to go reconnect it without me paying a dime of the proposed reconnection fee. 

I'm easily moved to tears even in ordinary events like when someone is telling me a personal story, when I see someone else crying, when I'm accused wrongly or when I've been cheated. So yesterday's incident wasn't about the money. I hope you can now see where I was coming from. Just as you will never understand what it's like to be a stammerer unless you're one (and there are grades of severity), you might never understand what it's like to be lachrymose except you are.

©Radiant ~December 2015
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Thursday 24 December 2015

What Happened To Radiant?


You haven't heard from me for like a month now and you're wondering whatever happened to the passionate and chatty Radiant. Well, I just got stuck in the writer's block. You know I always wait for some kind of inspiration to hit me before I start writing. But today, I was reading a blog post by an 18yr old college girl and it struck me that I had actually strayed from my roots. I used to just write about things that happen to me and that's what blogging is about, right? Like a log of events, call it a journal, a diary, whatever. But recently I've been more concerned with writing a perfect story. So it's not really like I had the writer's block but I've written many things which I didn't think were good enough so I just dumped them. I want to be that blogger that whenever you see her post, you just have to read it 'cause you know it's not going to be a waste of your time- she really has something interesting to say, not just another joker suffering from logorrhea. I always try to make my posts worth it even if it means not having regular or many posts. I just hope that next year will be different. This is more than 2 years and I'm happy with the progress I've made, but I pray it skyrockets next year. I pray the inspiration keeps coming, interesting events (good ones please) keep happening, writing will and energy keep coming, readers keep following and getting blessed, commenters keep commenting, and money keeps coming. Yea, money. I mean that literally. It's time to start making real figures and not just some 0.5 dollars a month. What! Who lives on that? Anyway, thank God this ain't about money. Otherwise, it would have been shut down by now. Hehehe. I thank God for my followers. You keep me going. When I feel like I'm insignificant, a like on a Facebook link to my blog tells me 'just maybe not'.

So to turn a new leaf, I'll start by forcing myself to write something for Christmas. How could Christmas Day pass and I don't have a post on my blog. I'm saying it here so I don't get an option to elope. I have to write something. And I hope it's good. So I'm going to be more observant, more in tune with my inner self because that's where the inspiration comes from. At worst, I get to say a merry Christmas to my followers, but I'm sure it wouldn't be that bland. I know inspiration comes when you're prepared for it. Actually, the truth is when I'm so occupied in thoughts and activities, I don't get anything to write. But when I'm expectant, like waiting on it in the midst of my activities... boom! something just happens that is worth telling and so I pick my tab and it just flows. Enough said. I better get to work. 



Meanwhile, Merry Christmas!!!

Radiant~ December 2015