"made of" not "a maid of"

Growing up,am sure am one of the numerous kids who were familiar with the line "there's a thin line between love and hate". Now all grown up (or atleast mostly grown up),i have figured that there's pretty much a thin line between everything good and evil, and the thin line is basically the choice(s) that we make.

If i want good grades,putting in extra prep hours could be the thin line,or if i want to be great in life,hardwork could be the thin line,and if i want a good president,my vote could be that thin line. So also there's a thin line between been 'made of' and been 'a maid of'. In case you haven't noticed,i have a thing for dreams. Not the dozing off and cojuring images kind,but dreams as in visions,aspirations,goals et al.

So am lying down and thinking of a lot of things when i remember a statement someone once said to me "...you are flippant,with so many ideas in your head,from subtle to absurd". Hmmm...anyways before i could allow it get to me,a voice in my head retorts almost viciously with "yeah right,that's because you are made of dreams,or would you rather be a maid of your dreams". Right then the sigh sound *hmm* turned to a *lol*.

Seriously,don't let anyone put you down,when they say you are flippant and have too many ideas,tell them its 'cos you are "made of" dreams. Savour every positive dream of yours as much as you can (its your right) and refuse to listen to the words of men that make you think you're just not good enough. Because the more you listen,the more you actually begin to believe it and then your dreams would start to drain out of you,till you become no longer "made of",but "a maid of"!

Comments

My Daily Bread

The body of a goddess...that's how I thought of her. With shoulders slightly broad; making you think of just the right amount of comfort, narrowing down to her waist...the tiniest I had ever seen....then the roundness of her buttocks, with a firmness that made you want to grab them hard. Watching her undress was pleasurable, caressing every part of her with my eyes, taking time to linger on all the right places...a goddess amongst men. She stepped into the bathroom, leaving me eagerly waiting for her reappearance. I wanted to have her now...I shifted to ease the pain throbbing in the bulge between my legs. I waited patiently for her return...longest moments of my life. Ah!!! there she was. I felt like prancing on her like a Lion on heat, but I had to wait...I knew I had to wait. I did not want to scare her off, that's why I had to be discreet - even while watching her. I looked at my time; 6.25am - it was almost time, five more minutes and he would be gone. I had watched them...

Impacting your world...

Just yesterday night I was watching CNN Heroes and I saw so many young people with great potential of their own who have so few opportunities to explore or express it. Still, they bravely persist in striving to make their mark on the world, even in contexts of deprivation and conflict. In the course of our lives we have the opportunity to meet and possibly interact with people who’ve made measurable impact in the world, including well-known experts, authors, researchers, journalists, scientists, innovators, business geniuses, and entrepreneurs. Yet among these world influencers are also everyday people who have found a special niche in which they’ve contributed at the highest level. It’s critical to note that people who’ve made a real difference aren’t all privileged, advantaged or “special” people. Many have come from disadvantaged families, and crushing circumstances, but have found ways to pick themselves up and rise above their circumstances (and their genes) to transform their o...

The Acknowledgement

Like from a distance, I could hear my mother’s cry…more like wailings. She sounded like a wounded lion that was going to scream her heart out, as she repeatedly screamed my name… Adeola! Adeola! Adeola!! Unshaken I stood there staring at the body of my father….or at least the man who used to be my father, until a few minutes ago. I willed myself back to the room and the activity around me…the lifeless body of my father lay on the bed, with a knife poking out of his chest. The crimson color of his blood gradually taking over the once ash colored pajamas he wore. I had just stabbed my father in the chest…with a force ad precision that left no room for his survival. ******************************************************************************** The sound of the bell rang through the long corridors signifying the time for counseling sessions. Reluctantly I got up from my bed, dragging through the process of wearing my flops and throwing my shirt on. Buttoning up with the speed of a...

Mind Conversations

Search This Blog