“as darkness closes in… THE ILLUSION OF A LIGHT”

In retrospect:
1.) I am always attracted to ‘unusual’ things and people hence the insane admiration I have for @Janus_aneni and @Elys_ia

2.) To fully understand this piece I’d advise you read the episode 1 of it.
https://jennifermelah.wordpress.com/2012/08/11/once-upon-a-time-darkness-closes-in/

And emmmm this piece is kinda Xrated. So feel free to stop reading now!

“The emptiness i felt even while at the university was enough to fill up a thousand other ‘me’.
What i had lost could not be made up for by the routine of “university life’.
In every new person I encountered I saw a piece of her;
In every smile I heard her laughter.
In every frown I saw her tears.
All these though were the ‘fallacies’ of my vision and deception of my mind.
I lived like my life had ended,merely going through the motions.

Yemi was my ‘hostel mate’ and occasional friend. As much as I could tell he liked me or more appropriately was physically attracted to me though he never officially made a move on me.
He didn’t need to as he eventually became my first fix.

That first time is forever etched in my memory probably because it was also my ‘first time’.
My room was completely dark and I lay silently on my bed as naked as a jay bird. I was soBbing quietly and the ‘why’ I cannot now remember.

There was a quiet knock on my door and I ignored it hoping whomever it was would go away but that was not to be. Another knock. Silence. A third knock after which my door creaked open.

The light from the passageway seeped into my room and thru it I could make out the muscular frame of Yemi. He walked in and left the door ajar as he needed the partial source of light.

Still on my bed I mumbled a weak,almost inaudible hello.

‘Hey Jemimah…’ He replied in his rich baritone voice. ‘I just got into the hostel and tot I’d check up on you’. A pause. Silence. ‘Are u alright?’ There was concern in his voice.

I nodded!

He stared at me for a while and then shut the door behind him. Again my room was as dark as pitch.

He groped his way to my bed and sat next to me. I was lying very still afraid that any move I make would betray my mood. I was exhausted. I wanted to be left alone but could not make up the words to send that message across.

‘Jemimah talk to me. Are you alryt?’ His voice was calm. Soothing.

I nodded again.

In the dark his fingers found my face and he stroked my forehead gently. I was overwhelmed by a feeling of deja vu. I exhaled.

From my forehead his fingers found their way to my lips and traced the outline of my mouth. My face was damp from my tears. My lips also. At this point he knew that I had been crying but in his wisdom asked no questions. I exhaled again and softly, without intending to, kissed his fingers.
It was an act of sheer impulse. I still cannot understand why I felt the need to do that.

He stopped.

I stopped.

My heart was racing now though I was as still as a photograph.
In only but a few seconds I had evolved from sad to slightly relieved to impulsive and foolish and to…’Expectant’???
I knew not what was going to happen next but I was waiting on it.
Yemi got up from my bed and for a brief moment I could feel his eyes fixed intently on me.
I didn’t make a sound. My mind was in disarray.

Slowly he undressed and slipped naked beneath my sheets right next to me. We lay still for a while not saying a word to each other because truly words were not needed as we were communicating in a language that defied words.

He stretched out one hand and touched my naked skin. Slowly,with the carefulness of a chef eunuch he put one hand on my shoulder and pressed my body gently so that I would turn to him.

I turned slowly and his hand touched my breast and then I was in his arms so quickly that our bodies came together in one line of electricity and he finally had his arms around me, was kissing my warm mouth deeply,was crushing my body and breasts against him and then rolling his body on top of mine.

Now I was all eagerness,Surging against him in a virginal erotic frenzy. The motions were swift,kisses long and hard,suddenly the temperature in the room shot up by a few hundred degrees and the sheets were no longer needed;and In hasty passion we explored.
When he entered into me the pain was blinding and I gasped.

‘Oh…I…’ he started to say.

By feminine instinct then I moved and the apology that was forming on his lips were cast to the wind. He drew me even closer,his lips claiming mine in wild abandon as he withdrew and thrust over and over again,easing the pain,creating a whirlwind of hot wet need that surpassed the ache-both the physical and the emotional ache.

I moved with him. My body as slick as a greased pig,my blood on fire,my mind ruptured as faster and faster he stroked pushing me into a place I had never bin.
When I came I cried out in sheer joy.

For as long as the orgasm lasted,I was totally free from the pain of my loss. There were no thoughts. No haunting memories. Just this powerful wave of blankness. Alas! I had found my respite-or so I thought.

In all these time though,the tears never ceased and the void in my heart was never filled.

Still for a long time I craved that ‘feeling of freedom’.
I became hooked on it like an addict hooked on nicotine.
I needed to be ‘fixed’ on a regular.
And Yemi was to be the first of many.

*to be continued*

P.s: as usual all grammatical errors were intended.

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the VAGINA MONOLOGUES…

In Retrospect:
I don’t prioritise God!

I read a lot of print and online media hence my ‘superior intellect’.

Don’t try to understand why I wear a green pair of socks. Its beyond human comprehension.
Lol.

Exams are fast approaching. So much to write about but so little time. For the next couple of weeks I’d be featuring a whole lot of other writers and bloggers and occasionally with a little ‘something’ from me as some sort of outro.

The Vagina monologues is an episodic play by Eve Ensler that deals with an aspect of the feminine experience, touching on matters such as sex, love, rape, menstruation, female genital mutilation, masturbation, birth, orgasm, the various common names for the vagina, or simply as a physical aspect of the body.
I chose this piece for reasons I am yet to understand. *sighs*

Finally as a warning if you decide to read further,just remember, YOU DECIDED!

*From the Vagina Monologues*

(Host)
I’M JUST GONNA ASK YOU A FEW QUESTIONS
AND JUST ANSWER WHATEVER YOU’RE COMFORTABLE ANSWERING.
DON’T GO ANY FURTHER THAN YOU FEEL LIKE GOING. AND IF YOU WANT TO ADD SOMETHING LATER ON TO A QUESTION I’VE ASKED YOU, THAT’S FINE TOO.

((Host)
WHEN WAS THE FIRST TIME YOU SAW IT ?

(Guest)
YOU KNOW, IT WAS SORT OF LIKE AN ACCIDENTAL THING. THERE WAS LIKE A MIRROR ON THE FLOOR, AND I WALKED UP AND I WAS LIKE, WHAT, WHAT WAS THAT? I HAVE TO GO HOME AND DO SOME RESEARCH. I DIDN’T LOOK AT MYSELF ‘TIL PROBABLY IN COLLEGE.
I DON’T EVEN SAY THE WORD TO MY OB-GYN.
AND I WENT TO THE LIBRARY, I’M SNEAKING IN THE LIBRARY,
LOOKING THROUGH THE BOOKS, AND YOU KNOW,
LIKE I’M COVERING THE BOOK WITH LIKE SOMETHING ELSE. AND THEN IT’S LIKE,
“ADMIRE IT, IT’S A BEAUTIFUL FLOWER,
YOU KNOW, IT’S LIKE ROSES”. I’M LIKE, WE’R E NOT LOOKING AT THE SAME THING. I TOOK PHOTOS OF IT. I HAD A POLAROID CAMER
AND I WOULD GO INTO THE BATHROOM
AND TAKE A PICTURE.

((Host)
ARE YOU EMBARRASSED ?

(Guest)
YES. ALL THOSE THINGS ARE KIND OF LIKE SECRET. YOU KNOW,IT’S LIKE YOUR OWN LITTLE JOY.
((Host)
I REALIZED THERE WAS NO CONTEXT
IN WHICH WOMEN EVER TALK ABOUT THEIR VAGINAS. SO, I JUST STARTED CASUALLY SAYING TO FRIENDS OF MINE, WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT YOUR VAGINA? WHAT DO YOU THINK? AND OVER THE COURSE OF ABOUT THREE TO FIVE YEARS, I HAD INTERVIEWED OVER 200 WOMEN.
HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE TALKING ABOUT IT ?

(Guest)
VERY STRANGE. I THINK IT’S LIBERATING, BUT IT’S KIND OF FUNNY TOO. I AM ANXIOUS, KIND OF NERVOUS, NOT REALLY SURE OF WHAT I’M GONNA SAY. I REALLY THOUGHT IT WAS GONNA BE LIKE, UNCOMFORTABLE, BUT IT’S NOT.
YOU MAKE IT KIND OF EASY.
((Host)
I’VE BEEN ON THE TRAIL FOR A LONG TIME
AND I DON’T THINK I’M GETTING OFF IT ANY TIME SOON. EVERYTHING ON THE WALL, ALL OF THESE WERE GIFTS OR PHOTOGRAPHS OR THINGS THAT HAVE FOUND ME OR HAVE BEEN GIVEN TO ME AS I TRAVELED AROUND THE WORLD.
WELL, FIRST I’D LIKE TO INTRODUCE VAGINA BARBIE, COMPLETE WITH DUCK LIPS.
A LOVELY…
VAGINA CANDLE.
THIS SALAD HERE…
THAT’S A VAGINA SALAD.
THIS IS A VULVA PUPPET.
THEY ACTUALLY TALK.
THERE’S A WHOLE WORLD OF VAGINA LIFE OUT THERE,WHICH I FIND THRILLING.
SO, WHEN THE SHOW WAS FIRST DONE DOWNTOWN,GUYS WOULD CALL UP AND SAY,
CAN I HAVE TICKETS TO “THE VAGINA DIALOGUES” ?
AND WOMEN WOULD CALL UP AND SAY,
CAN I HAVE TICKETS TO “THE MONOLOGUES” ?
I’VE HEARD PEOPLE CALL IT “THE VIAGRA CHRONICLES.”
AND THERE WAS THIS PUNK TICKET TAKER,
AND SHE WOULD SAY, “LISTEN, IF YOU CAN’T SAY THE NAME, YOU CAN’T COME.
NOW, TRY AGAIN, TRY AGAIN.”
I BET YOU’RE WORRIED.
I WAS WORRIED.
THAT’S WHY I BEGAN THIS PIECE.
I WAS WORRIED ABOUT VAGINAS. I WAS WORRIED WHAT WE THINK ABOUT VAGINAS. AND I WAS EVEN MORE WORRIED THAT WE DON’T THINK ABOUT THEM. I WAS WORRIED ABOUT MY OWN VAGINA. IT NEEDED A CONTEXT, A COMMUNITY,
A CULTURE OF OTHER VAGINAS. THERE IS SO MUCH DARKNESS AND SECRECY SURROUNDING THEM, LIKE THE BERMUDA TRIANGLE,
NOBODY EVER REPORTS BACK FROM THERE.
IN THE FIRST PLACE, IT’S NOT SO EASY TO EVEN FIND YOUR VAGINA.
WOMEN GO DAYS, WEEKS, MONTHS, WITHOUT LOOKING AT IT. I INTERVIEWED A HIGH-POWERED BUSINESSWOMAN, SHE TOLD ME SHE DIDN’T HAVE TIME.

LOOKING AT YOUR VAGINA SHE SAID, IS A FULL DAY’S WORK. YOU’VE GOT TO GET DOWN THERE, ON YOUR BACK, IN FRONT OF THE MIRROR, FULL-LENGTH PREFERRED. YOU’VE GOT TO GET IN THE PERFECT POSITION, WITH THE PERFECT LIGHT WHICH THEN BECOMES SHADOWED BY THE ANGLE YOU’RE AT. YOU’RE TWISTING YOUR HEAD UP, ARCHING YOUR BACK, IT’S EXHAUSTING!

SHE WAS BUSY.

SHE DIDN’T HAVE TIME.

SO, I DECIDED TO TALK TO WOMEN ABOUT THEIR VAGINAS. THEY BEGAN AS CASUAL VAGINA INTERVIEWS, AND THEY TURNED INTO VAGINA MONOLOGUES.
I TALKED WITH OVER 200 WOMEN.
I TALKED TO YOUNGER WOMEN, OLDER WOMEN, MARRIED WOMEN,LESBIANS, SINGLE WOMEN,
I TALKED TO COLLEGE PROFESSORS, CORPORATE PROFESSIONALS,ACTORS, SEX WORKERS.
I TALKED TO AFRICAN-AMERICAN WOMEN,
ASIAN-AMERICAN WOMEN, HISPANIC WOMEN,
NATIVE-AMERICAN WOMEN, CAUCASIAN WOMEN,
JEWISH WOMEN.
AT FIRST, WOMEN WERE A LITTLE SHY,
A LITTLE RELUCTANT TO TALK.
BUT ONCE THEY GOT GOING, YOU COULDN’T STOP THEM.

WOMEN LOVE TO TALK ABOUT THEIR VAGINAS, THEY DO.
THEY REALLY DO. MAINLY BECAUSE NO ONE’S EVER ASKED THEM BEFORE. LET’S JUST START WITH THE WORD VAGINA.

VAGINA.
IT SOUNDS LIKE AN INFECTION AT BEST. MAYBE A MEDICAL INSTRUMENT
“HURRY, NURSE, BRING ME THE VAGINA.”

VAGINA.

VAGINA.

IT DOESN’T MATTER HOW MANY TIMES YOU SAY THE WORD,
IT NEVER SOUNDS LIKE A WORD YOU WANT TO SAY.
IT’S A COMPLETELY RIDICULOUS,
TOTALLY UNSEXY WORD.

IF YOU USE IT DURING SEX, TRYING TO BE POLITICALLY CORRECT YOU KILL THE ACT RIGHT THERE. I’M WORRIED WHAT WE CALL IT AND DON’T CALL IT.

IN GREAT NECK, NEW YORK, THEY CALL IT A “PUSSYCAT”.
A WOMAN TOLD ME THERE, HER MOTHER USED TO TELL HER,
“DON’T WEAR PANTIES, DEAR, UNDERNEATH YOUR PAJAMAS,
YOU NEED TO AIR OUT YOUR PUSSYCAT.”

IN WESTCHESTER, THEY CALL IT A “POOKIE”.

IN NEW JERSEY, A “TWAT”.

THERE’S “POWDER BOX”,
A “POOCHI”, A “POOPI”,
A “PEE-PEE”, A “POOPALU”,
A “POONINANA” AND A “PICHE”.

I AM WORRIED ABOUT VAGINAS.

*Outro*
Actually am not. Worried about Vaginas I mean.

Just thrilled by the fact that someone could start a talk show about something as ‘sensitive’ and ‘classified'(picture this word as written in red block letters) as Vaginas. Even saying the word out loud is a bit strange for me.

When you come to think of it there are so many things that we,especially in this part of the world(and by this I mean the Nigerian society) are reluctant to talk about. But these are real issues affecting real people.

Walk into a room full of girls talking about sex and you tend to feel like you are in a whore house. I know because unfortunately I used to be guilty of this ‘crime of prudishness’. Sometime ago I was in my classmates’ room and there were like 4 other girls there(all of whom I hope are not reading this). Somehow we or rather,they got talking about piercings. The argument was which piercing was more painful: that done on the tongue or on the clitoris.

THru out that very awkward argument I was more or less dumb. As much as it grossed me out I couldn’t leave for 2 reasons:
-i really was obligated to wait for my friend because we needed to go somewhere together.
-and as inappropriate as I tot it was, it was an insightful argument none the less.

Afterwards for a long time I was of the opinion that those ‘girls’ were dumb and that the conversation/argument was really silly. Now though I beg to differ,at least to a certain extent.

Truth is as much as things are taking a different turn (I mean girls go around dressed like circus clowns and boys think its ‘dope’ addressing a girl as ‘pretty little thing’ ) we are still very much as conservatve about our conversations as our grandparents probably were in their days,give or take a few exceptions.
*Notice my use of hyperbole here*

(At this point I’d have to say this:
When u shag and brag,or tell tales of your sexcapades or talk vulgar and trashy,it doesn’t make you any less conservatve. Just incredibly silly and crude.)

That aside,some sundays ago in my fellowship at school the topic of the sermon was ‘sex’ and it was an enlightening experience for me. Though I could not help but notice how the various speakers tried as much as possible to avoid terms like ‘penis’ and ‘vagina’ and ‘boobs’ and other such ‘words-that-must-not-be-mentioned’.
Its funny really. There are still boys that cringe when they hear the word menstruation and when some girls hear you say penis they look at you like you have the mark of the beast on your fore head.

And over there is someone having a talk show with ‘Vagina’ as its predominant theme.
Wow!

But why is it almost impossible for us to ever comfortably talk about these ‘seeming’ inappropriate things considering the fact that we are all adults. Agreed there are some really ‘deep things’ that should be left unsaid and conversations that are just unnecessary,there are also things that should be voiced. Let’s please talk about the elephant in the room. For instance,(and the next 4lines are a figMent of YOUR imagination)
You want to know if your boyfriend has ever been silly enough to measure his penis,ask him!
You need help understanding the technicallities of your girlfriend”s menstrual cycle,ask her.
Lol…

Sex,sexual organs,sexual pleasures and other related concepts dominate our society presently. Sometimes though not everything is as it seems and as regards this issue,ignorance is not bliss. To make right decisions you need to be well informed and enlightened. So if there is something u are curious about,something you need to know,something you need help with,something you need more clarification on and etcetera etcetera, ask someone or as my friend would always say,’Google it’.

Still, Me wey dey talk sef I sometimes give the word Prude a whole new definition. I anticipate a time though when I would not only be able to talk about some ‘things’ without wincing but also in so doing people would not consider weird or ‘un righteous’.

What got me started on this ‘matter’ sef?
(Bbm thinking smiley)

Anyway,I plead sleep deprivation and partial insomnia.
Go Figure.

Nice weekend y’all.

P.s:
1.) Phrase- ‘deep things’
Meaning- refer to @Nugwatweets

Phrase- ‘superior intellect’
Meaning- refer to @Jamestha3D

2.) Yes yes yes I can speak and write pidgin english. Don’t let my accent fool you.

3.) As usual all grammatical errors were fully intended.

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once upon a time…”DARKNESS CLOSES IN”

In retrospect…
1.) If u are over 20 and have never kissed a member of the opposite sex please see me.LOL!

2.) SEX is NEVER a casual affair. For everytime you indulge in it outside the confines of marriage you lose a part of ‘YOURSELF’.
Still I have this conviction that some of our actions are spurred off by ‘series of unfortunate events’ that may have happened over the course of our lives. Having said this allow me to further say that there are some of US who “go through’ men and women without reservations all in a search for that which is greater than ‘US’.
Hence this post!

Now…

“She was buried on a thursday mOrning.
Even up until that morning I was still in denial of what was an obvious truth- that one phase of my life had ended, and another the most difficult was about to begin. I refused to see or acknowledge my ‘loss’ for what it really was, something terrible that could not be altered.

The defining moment came when we processed round the coffin and on getting to where it was I gazed inside.
She looked so peaceful and beautiful.
Dressed in white like a sleeping bride awaiting her groom.
Overwhelmed by mixed emotions I touched her hand but it felt cold. Way too cold.

Still in a daze I shook her a bit but there was no response. Not even the flutter of eyelashes. She remained still. Un moving.
My reality dawned on me.
I was shocked albeit for a short while because the initial shock gave way to unspeakable agony.

At that moment I felt dizzy with grief’s vertigo,cut off from family and friends,tormented by the realisation of my ‘loss’ and nauseous from the pain therein.
I crumbled to the floor but the sound of my fall was drowned by my own screaming anguish.

For the rest of the ceremony I was catatonic. People spoke to me but I could not make out the words. The touched me and I felt nothing.
I worked the crowd as expertly as I could,found my way to my room and shut myself in willing with every will power that I possessed that I could as well,shut myself out of my present pain.

This was my reality.
I had lost someone whom I loved deeply and who loved me as well. Though the relationship we had was imperfect,as all relationships are,it was nevertheless vital and growing.
With her every conversation was a memory,every silence a thousand words.
Alone in the solitude of my room,my loss was so over whelming that it was the dominant emotion-sometimes the only emotion- I had.
I felt like I was staring at the lump of a huge tree that had just been cut down in my backyard.
That lump which sat all alone kept reminding me of my beloved tree that I had just lost.
I could think of nothing but that tree. Everytime I looked out of the window all I could see was that stump.

Truth is our sense of identity depends largely on the roles we play and the relationships we have.
What we do and who we know contributes significantly to how we understand ourselves.
Losing her was like undergoing an amputation of my familiar identity,more like the amputation of myself from myself.
The amputation of the self I once was.
The self I could no longer be or become.

Weeks passed and in that time what kept me going were my habits of living.
My life as I once knew it was over.
The process had been halted.
The continuum disrupted,the growth stopped.
My motion picture became a snapshot.

Sometimes I thought I would go crazy with all my illusions.
I would wake up in the morning,rush downstairs to the kitchen for my usual cup of lemon tea with her only to find the kitchen empty and lifeless.
I would drop down on the hard cold floor and cry my eyes out until Dad found me and helped me back upstairs to the comfort of my room.
On such occasions he would hold me close and try to help me understand a loss that I knew he also could not fathom. But I was beyond consolation. My heart and human spirit cried out for her and the physical tears that I shed reflected that.

I remember counting the consecutive days in which I cried.
The tears came for 40 days and then they stopped.
I marvelled at the genius of the ancient hebrews who set aside 40 days for mourning as if 40 days were enough.
I learned later how foolish I was.
It was only after those forty days that my mourning became too deep for tears.
So my tears turned to brine;to a burning and bitter sensation of loss that tears could no longer express.
In the months that would follow I would actually long for that time when the sorrow had been fresh and the tears came easily. The emotional release would have lifted the burden if only for a while.
Still I had no way of anticipating the sufferings I would have to endure in the months ahead.

Exactly 9weeks after mom’s burial my admission into the higher institution of learning came through and it was to be my first time away from home for a long stretch of time.
I was not excited
And It was impossible for me to be any ‘sadder’ than I already was.
I was indifferent to it all.
My father felt the change would be good for me.
My siblings were too caught up in their own lives to spare mine any thought.
I took those things I felt were necessary and stepped into a whole new world.
Along with my physical belongings I carried with me a constant pain throbbing in my chest,refusing to go away. This pain that occupied my chest created a void in my heart that nothing else could fill,not even my vague concept of God.

3 weeks later I found my temporary relief.
And it all began with Yemi…

*to be continued*

P.s: as usual all grammatical errors were intended.
And my birthday is on the 15th of August. Want to send ur birthday wishes??? @JNyX_Melah
Nice week y’all.

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