The One Percent Difference...

There's a game on my phone - Bubble Shooter or something like that. The gist however is that you have to succeed at one level to proceed to the next, and succeed in this regard means you have to score a hundred percent. Every time you score less than a hundred, it boldly writes FAILED!!!.

So on this fateful day I and my brother get to to this level where after several attempts, we always end up with ninety-nine percent (99%) ad still it gives us FAILED. Then it dawned on me, that there really is a thin line not just between love and hate, but also between failure and success and in general - good and evil.

That single blow that kills a man, that one argument that ends a relationship, that single gesture that changes your life, that one word that affects a life.... these are the one percents in our lives. True we most times do not know what the next moment holds, but to a certain extent we can do our part. We can guard our choices, give our best, and most of the time that best is only one percent away.

You know how back in school, lecturers can mark you up on a test or exam, when you are just a mark or two away from the cut-off point...but life doesn't always mark us up, we have to give it our all. I believe the seemingly little things are the most important things that with time add up to a great life.

I believe that a life of ninety-nine percent (99%) really is no use if the most vital one percent (1%) is missing, I believe that the world itself is ruled by many one percents (1%), I believe that all that is needed for a great life, is one percent - one best percent!

What Do You Think?

Comments

Anonymous said…

I think this is brief but deep.
Well Done!

March 28, 2013 at 1:07 AM

Tiwa Alagbe said…

thank you anonymous...*wide grin*

June 10, 2013 at 11:46 PM

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