FROM THE ARCHIVE: DIARY OF AN INTROVERT
- Prose
- Archive, Diary, Intropection, Introvert
- June 23, 2017
My bed is my favourite place.
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My bed is my favourite place.
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Take a chance.
Live your dreams.
Don’t hold back,
you have one chance.
Hey Babe,
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Dear Adeola,
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I’ve been asking that He reveals to me His love: well, not because I wanted to know more, but because I didn’t trust in His love –this is quite hard for a Christian-y girl to confess, kindly take this line seriously.
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I took a second look at the metal box and thought, hmm…well, what if? Just then the conductor announced, “going bus! Oshodi, going bus!”, my ear tingled at the resonance of this line with my desire to be home before the moon owns the sky.
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Great things start little.
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Picnic’s best with sunlight.
Tales are soothing by moonlight.
The match couldn’t be better.
How clever, earth’s order.
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This is one statement I’ve heard frequently over the years. It’s a simple statement with three words; nothing complex to understand. I grasp the English interpretation of this statement; it is the depth that baffles me.
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Give us a chance.
To see you beyond a glance.
Give me a chance.
All I ask is this one dance.
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