#30daysrantchallenge

Sitting in front of her large PC monitor, she is bombarded with viral news—ranging from facts to the alleged. YouTube algorithms feed her digital broadcasts from the West, with content creators on both sides of the divide airing their views—Isaac and Ishmael; Donkey and Elephant; Bear and Trident. War, death, and oppression are the order of the day.

Her many clicks finally bring her home to reality—online echoes of weary youths raising their voices, expressing her homeland’s frustration with a political administration that cares little for its own. Leaders who line their pockets, fattened by greed, entangle themselves in meaningless scandals.

The viral online rant of a young citizen spreads like wildfire, igniting a movement— even the powers that be tried to silence it. The ongoing 30-Day Rant Challenge—watch, listen, and you will hear—there’s a lullaby for suffering.

Dear reader, 

My apologies in advance if my piece carries too much of a political undertone. Today, I am participating in the dVerse challenge -Prosery, Leonard Cohen- while also taking part in an online protest here at home. So please bear with me!

Besides, you get to know a little about where I'm from... 😉

Happy reading! 😊

The logic of AI and Humanity’s fate

Although the following message was sent to me as a video (MP4), I felt that we should share the audio version as a way to focus on its essence.

In the recording below, ChatGPT is asked how, if he were the devil, he would keep man from God. The response is mind-blowing.

Here is also a screenshot of another query using the same Generative AI tool.

You will agree with me that these responses are staggering.

Now, we can say that these responses are based on the vast amount of data it has been trained on. However, let us bear in mind that these answers have come from a place of logic. A vast sea of information was gathered, and from all of it, this was its logical conclusion.

With this in mind—it’s scary to ask, but imagine AI becoming self-aware…

Fact: Mankind is Earth’s dominant species. But if I were in the shoes of a newly sentient being that bases all thinking on logic, then it’s a no-brainer! Knowing all I do about mankind, I would question this ideology:

“Why? Why would such beings have the upper hand in the world when they act like mere children?”

And this is just the censored version… Frankly, I imagine AI seeing us as a cancer that needs to be cut out.

So, the next time you find yourself watching movies like I, Robot, Minority Report, or even Terminator, just think:

If these guys should one day wake up—shit creek without a paddle is where we’ll be. It would be a case of “domination” or “total annihilation“, unless we can turn things around and start feeding them historical data that allows them to perceive us differently.

To my younger self…

Daily writing prompt
How has a failure, or apparent failure, set you up for later success?

To my younger self: That dream came true. You are a single woman…

Looking back, the desire for connection, a soulmate, and that fairytale happy ending B.S. only led to drama and smoke screens. Most scenes ended with the classic “It’s not you, it’s me” speech—wrong frequencies of tribe, class, or religion.

I sure could pick them, right? 🙂

This cycle ran from my 20s through my mid-30s. And then, I met her. We crossed paths just as I was about to check into heartbreak hotel once again—well, not so much heartbreak this time, as I had already given up on the relationship and was ready to walk away. And then she appeared, full of beauty and charm, completely enchanting me.

The first time I told my mom about her, she said something profound:
“You’ve spent all this time running through failed love stories. Now she’s here, and you have the perfect chance at love. I pray you do right by her.”

That was the moment I realized—my past wasn’t a curse. It was a path leading me to my true love story.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned—among the many lessons she has brought into my life—it’s the discipline of loving myself first and enough. That way, even when love isn’t reciprocated, I remain whole. I am good enough for me—strong enough to know I deserve better and wise enough to move the hell on.

To my younger self: That dream came true. You are a single woman… and the proud mother of the most incredible 8-year-old—the kind of love money could never buy. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

An anticipation of “March’s madness”…

On February 20th, Nigerians witnessed the launch of A Journey in Service, a memoir detailing the life of a former military ruler. Now 83, he recounts his role in what can only be summarized as the country’s downward spiral—from senseless coups and executions that ignited a civil war to an election annulment that led to further bloodshed. And yet, on that day, he and his book were celebrated by the President and former Heads of State. The gall—the insult to the common Nigerian, past and present.

February also delivered a Hollywood tragedy straight out of The X-Files—a renowned actor, his wife, and their dog, all found dead in different parts of their home. No signs of forced entry. No carbon monoxide poisoning. No definitive time of death. A mystery worthy of the strangest conspiracy theories. Oh boy – February couldn’t get any crazier could it? Well Helz Yezzz!.

February 28th! The world witnessed what can only be described as the political equivalent of The Jerry Springer Show. Leader versus world leader. Or perhaps, world leader and his team going at leader – take your pick. No fists were thrown, but the number of jaws hitting the floor that day—including mine—was staggering. A day of pride for some, a day of disgrace for others. A moment in history remembered for ????… I’ll leave you to fill in the blanks.

Now, standing in the month of Martius, I can’t help but reflect on the sheer audacity of the past few weeks—from political theater to ongoing freakishly hot Lagos weather. And so, I ask: What more could you have in store for us, O month of March named after the Roman god offf … war?!

Pantheon smiles down,

From Fields of Mars spectating

His month unfolding

Its Haibun Monday on dVerse and its all about how you interpret “March Madness”. This piece was fun for me! Based on my view of the term “March madness” I got the chance to unclog all the frustration that came with previous month of February 😁.

March is here and I personally choose to be positive and prayerful about what’s ahead.

Cheers! 🙂

A question for all creative writers!

Please leave your comments as I would truly appreciate your opinions on this matter 🙂

Shaded Perceptions

…As he is walking out another is hurriedly walking in… The mystery seems to comes full circle…

Eyes open to view a ceiling in black and white. Then we see the character lying on his back. Cole is lying in bed next to his wife. She sleeps, facing him. He turns towards her as she slowly wakes. They exchange morning greetings, then she turns to back him and returns to her sleep. He gets up, puts on his glasses, and looks across the room at the wall where we see a pinboard full of colorful fun pictures of the happy couple. Then his focus shifts to his side table to a letter. We don’t see the full letter. What is visible is the letterhead of a hospital and then the word “appointment” in the subject of the letter. He gets up and slowly walks to the bathroom. 

The scene cuts to him brushing his teeth. The wife walks in still groggy and reaches for her toothbrush. We then move to a scene of the couple hand in hand in prayer. In the next scene the man makes ready for work and his wife is getting his lunch bag ready. He comes into the kitchen to say goodbye. She kisses him as she hands him the lunch bag, and as  they share another quick kiss goodbye, she tells him to stay safe. 

Next scene we see him settle into his office work space, and then our vision is turned to his work board displaying pictures of him and his wife and colorful post-its containing bible quotes on faith  pinned on it. Cole is a data analyst working in an IT company with a number of staff on his floor and with an open office space structure. 

 In the next scene he takes his time as he slowly rounds-up from work. In the background, you can hear colleagues laughingly shutting down as well. He hears someone leaving and making an obvious exit to the team, but doesn’t pay much attention to it. The scene cuts to him saying goodbye in slang – “e go be” as he cautiously steps out of a pub (bar). He is sober. As he is walking out another is hurriedly walking in, and as the door shuts behind him, he hears people in jubilation. He gets into his car and drives off, and then the scene cuts to him walking into his apartment. The wife has made meal for him and laid it on the dinner table. There is a note on the table “hi hon! not feeling so good and already in bed. please have something to eat okay. Love, love!”

The scene changes again to him walking into his bedroom. His wife is lying  asleep in bed, facing his side of the bed and with her bible wrapped in her arms. He leans over to give her a kiss on her cheek. The scene cuts to him in his pyjamas and brushing his teeth. He then gets into bed, takes off his glasses, and lays on his back once again, we see him face the ceiling. He shuts his eyes and the scene fades to black.

The scene slowly opens as the apartment door opens and the wife walks in dragging in light luggage. He follows even slower and with an unsure demeanour. She asks him if he would like to eat. He says he is not hungry. The scene changes to a hospital scene, the doctor is talking to his wife. “temporary amnesia is not uncommon after such procedures Mrs. Cole, just give him time… Patience is key.

The scene cuts to them getting ready for bed. He is in his pyjamas and quickly lays in bed. His discomfort is obvious as he turns to his side, backing his wife. She walks out of the bathroom from cleaning her teeth. She asks for them to pray, and he responds “I’m not in the mood.” She goes ahead to kneel and pray while he sleeps, and the scene slowly fades.

The next scene opens up with the man walking into a pub hailing some men by the bar. They retaliate, and as he walks over, they give him a welcome “guy” hug. Then we see them gyrate and drink. As the night progresses, there’s talks and jokes. The scene becomes more focused, and then we hear one of the guys  joke about Cole’s choice of drinks… Guys, which one wey come our level?, na wa o!  Cole in turn laughingly responds “ I be pastor?” he then make jokes of how even his wife is always trying to get him to pray these days. Then in the same vein, one of the friends asks why he is now acting as though he is not the crew’s “ordained”. “Speaking of which, did you hear about ….?”. The room gets loud as a hoard of new customers enter the bar. He does not catch the last statement, and they are soon distracted by the new faces. The night goes on in fun and drink as the scene fades.

In the next scene, tipsy, he is trying to get into his car in the park, and the scene shifts to the friends saying bye in the bar, and the man confirming that he will be resuming at the office on Monday. Scene reverts back as the car speeds off.

The next scene, he walks into the bedroom pretty tipsy. His wife is lying backing him. Eyes open and with tears running down her face, she prays silently. He slumps next to her, and as her eyes shut, the scene slowly fades.

The next scene, he hurriedly gets his things and is rushing out for his resumption at the office. His wife stops him gently in his track and asks if he will take his lunch bag. He has also forgotten his glasses. He takes them reluctantly with a word of thanks. She then asks if she can pray for him as he resumes work. Once again he is reluctant, but says yes. They hold hands, and then she begins by thanking God for the blessings of life and then goes on to pray for his first day back since the whole experience. They share a Christian brother and sister hug, and then he leaves. 

Scene cuts to him getting in the car, and in the car, he pauses for a few seconds in thought. The glasses sit uncomfortably on his face. He then starts the car and starts to reverse. Scene cuts to him walking into a story building. He clocks into the building, and the security guard offers a welcome. He smiles in thanks. 

Then we have a scene of him in the elevator with a look of anticipation. Holding his glasses in hand along with his bag pack he then walks out and buzzes into the office. Stepping in, he is given a surprise welcome by the team. A welcome back banner hangs across the wall and float ing balloons hit the ceiling. Smiling, he looks up at the colorful sight. Colleagues circle round him, and then slowly allow him move to his desk. As he walks, he unconsciously takes a different direction from his workspace, but is quickly corrected by a teammate who jokingly says “ahn ahn, guy! Time done pass like dat?”. They laugh as he finds his actual seat by locating the work board holding his pictures and bible quotes. Taking a seat he admires his workspace and work board. It’s got pretty pictures of the Mrs and love. He then settles down to resume work.

In the next scene, the man is packing up along with his colleague. Friendly banter ensues, including how he feels about his first-day return to the 9 to 5 life. He puts on his bag pack, and as he starts to walk away from his desk, he returns suddenly to pick up the glasses. He walks towards the exit and  pauses to look at the announcement board when he notices a smiling face. A feeling of recognition comes over him. He knows that face! “Gone but not forgotten” is written beneath the picture. “Who is that?” He asks a colleague who’s walking past him and towards the elevator. The colleague stops and turns. It’s one of the men at the bar and specifically, the one that asked him the question he never got to hear or answer. The scene goes back to that night. In all the jubilant commotion, we zoom into the colleague as he completes his question. in all the noise his mouth takes the shape of his words, unheard … “Tobi Oguns” and the picture immediately cuts back to the picture on the board, and you see the name below the picture, “Tobi Oguns”

A look of terror floods his face, he staggers a few steps back and then turns back to walk toward the direction he had actually wanted to go earlier that day. He finds himself at Tobi’s desk and then it dawns on him. Memories flood back in disjointed flashes – moments of laughter, shared projects, and both Cole and Tobi in the same social gatherings but never really fraternising. In one of the flashes we are back at the previous office scene where Cole is shutting down and we hear that anonymous person exit the office. Our view shifts to boisterous Tobi saluting his office people as he leaves. In a final memory, we are back at the setting where Cole is leaving the bar, and the person hurriedly walks past, shutting the door. In the bar, we see Tobi raise his hands to hail his colleagues/buddies and in return, we hear a roar of salutation. Rushing out as though he has encountered a ghost, he heads home. 

In the next scene Mrs. Cole is seated in the parlor, busy on her laptop. She hears the jingle of keys, the lock clicks and her husband slowly makes his way into the house. Dragging his feet he stands before her. She looks up from the couch where she is seated lazily and yet hard at work. There is silence for a moment, and then Cole, shedding a tear asks with a husky but soft voice, “why?”. 

The scene moves to both of them seated side by side on the couch. Cole slouching, head in hand. Mrs. Cole talks about the surgery and how it had been a success but had come with its ordeals. The memory loss, the stranger he had become… we then see flashbacks of him after his operation in the hospital. Hysteria due to amnesia during recovery; We return to the scene where the Doctor tells his wife that this reaction was not unheard of after such a procedure, and how it would be temporary. We hear “patience is key” as we cut back to the present. Back in the present they are silent, both looking to the ground. Cole stuttering then tries to mutters “ I’m, I’m not…. At least I think I am not…”, but she cuts in with an “I know” as she looks ahead of her. 

Scene cuts to his wife on a call from the hospital. A donor had been found and  Cole’s operation had been scheduled for that night. Her prayers had been answered. Cole would be getting a real heart, instead of a pacemaker, of which the procedure had been planned for that same day. She falls to the floor with the phone still in her hand and kneels to thank her Maker. 

In the same hospital, a stretcher is being pushed into the emergency room. As they speedily cruise toward emergency the patient’s bloodied hand falls to the side, and on his wrist, we catch a glimpse of the bloodied wrist band and on a part not covered in blood is spelt Tobi. We come back to the present scene and with tears running down her face, she completes her sentence. “you are not my Cole, you are not my husband”. The mystery seems to comes full circle.… “Well, you are physically,” she continues, “but not as the one who speaks to me”. She reminds him about the surgery and all that ensued. He then remembers waking up from the operation. Scene turns dark, and eyes open to see the ceiling, in color. He looks around and doesn’t recognize anything or anyone. He feels like he is somewhere else, but where or as who, he cannot tell. They then turn to look at each other in the present. Staring into his eyes, she then says “Is he still in there? Is he with you?”.  Taken aback by this statement, he stands and storms out of the house. 

We cut to him in the usual bar that turns out to be the in the same building as his office. He is drinking away his sorrow when he feels a hand on his shoulder. It’s his colleague from the other night. Ol’boy watin dey? Guy how far na! You done dey drink like dis now?! This Tobi’s demise really hit you hard o! I mean I honestly thought you knew! I even asked you that night we were here if you heard about it. 

Scene cuts back to the bar once again when he says the name. This time his shouting voice filters through the noise …. “Tobi Oguns”, but of course Cole does not catch it. We come back to the present, and Cole/Tobi is still at a loss. His friend then tells him to snap out of it! Abi you sad say as an “ordained” wey done dey come this bar you no save the guy soul? I beg leave that matter o! Tobi may have been a “guy” man, or “not saved or born again” as you would put it, but he had a heart of Gold. I even heard that he gave up his organs to be donated. Cut to the scene of the bloodied hand band, signifying he was an organ donor. We hear his friends say, “You sef fit do am… Accepting your mortality like dat? “. The scene of the bloodied band quickly fades to black.

Jump to the next scene, we find Cole back at that moment when they pass each other at the bar door, but this time there is a pause and they both turn to look at each other. He wakes suddenly and finds he has slept off at the bar. Now a bit sober he picks up his keys and we see him leave the bar to head home. 

Scene cuts to the Cole/Tobi slowly walking into the bedroom to find his wife kneeling in prayer. He walks sloppy into the bathroom and toward the sink. The sound of running water hit the air and we see him staring at himself through the fogging Mirror. He then proceeds to splash the heated water on his face as a last effort to wake from the dream he thinks he is in. Nothing! And just as he is about to drown once again in confusion and despair, he sights his partner from the Sink mirror on her knees.  We see his eyes and face muscles soften like that of a Child’s as he turns around and walks towards this praying woman. He then asks softly,  “can I join you… can you please teach me how to pray?” She looks up at him from her position of prayer. She then reaches up to take his hands and brings him slowly to his knees and next to her. There they assume the position of prayer. 

The scene fades and moves to a stream of scenes of days going by. From  scenes of the couple praying, to a scene of Cole at his daily job and there he pays tribute to Tobi by signing in his condolence book; Cole at the bar with his friends, a soft in hand and looking happy and sober. They chat and gesticulate and soon they all share a hearty laugh. 

We cut back one final time to the scene at the bar door and this time the pause between the two is long enough for Tobi to look Cole in the eyes and mutely say “Thank you”. Cole gives a smiles of understanding.  They both turn and walk their different paths. The scene fades to black.

The final scene opens with Cole lying on his back in bed with his wife lying back turned to him. Morning slowly  creeps in. We see his eyes  open and we quickly switch to his view of the ceiling. The world appears once again in monochrome. We see his hand reach for the glasses, and as they fall to his face we witness as his world is turned to colour.

The scene slowly fades to black.

SHADED PERCEPTIONS

By 

Upe Amoniya Otaru 😉

Fitting into shoes: Enter Alex and Jordan’s.

The bass thumped rhythmically, sending vibrations through the crowded dance floor. Amidst the swirl of colors and the blur of dancing figures, Alex and Jordan moved to the beat, their laughter mingling with the music. To any onlooker, they were the epitome of friendship — inseparable and in sync.

Alex, ever the protector, watched over Jordan with a mix of admiration and concern. They had always been there for Jordan, through highs and lows, celebrations and heartbreaks. Alex’s feelings for Jordan ran deep, born from a place of genuine love and dedication.

Jordan, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of energy, attracting people like a magnet. Charismatic and engaging, they often found themselves the center of attention, leaving Alex on the sidelines. It was a pattern familiar to both: Jordan diving into new experiences and friendships, while Alex waited patiently in the wings.

As the night progressed, Jordan’s attention drifted, captivated by new faces and conversations. Alex watched from a distance, a familiar pang of neglect stirring within them. Despite this, Alex remained steadfast, their loyalty unwavering.

But beneath the surface, questions lingered. How long could Alex continue this dance of being there for Jordan, while their own feelings were overlooked? Was their patience a strength or a vulnerability? And for Jordan, would they realize the depth of Alex’s commitment before it was too late?


As the night deepened, the dance floor became more crowded, pulsing with energy. Jordan, ever the social butterfly, danced freely, their laughter echoing above the music. Alex, though enjoying the rhythm, kept a watchful eye, their protective instincts always attuned to their friend’s well-being.

In the midst of the vibrant scene, a new figure emerged, sliding into the space beside Jordan. This person, with a too-eager smile and an encroaching manner, began to dance a little too close for comfort. Jordan’s smile faltered, their movements growing constrained as they tried to politely distance themselves.

Alex, noticing the subtle change in Jordan’s demeanor, felt a familiar surge of protectiveness. They knew Jordan’s tendency to attract attention, not always welcome, and how it sometimes left them feeling overwhelmed. Without hesitation, Alex moved closer, their presence a silent but strong statement.

“Hey, Jordan, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Alex interjected smoothly, offering Jordan an out. Grateful relief flashed in Jordan’s eyes as they eagerly followed Alex away from the unwanted company.

As they moved to a quieter corner of the party, Jordan let out a breath they didn’t realize they’d been holding. “Thanks, Alex,” they said, a genuine smile returning to their face. “You always know when to step in.”

Alex shrugged modestly, but their eyes held a deep care that went beyond simple friendship. “Always got your back,” they replied simply, but the sentiment carried the weight of their unspoken feelings.

In that moment, the dynamics of their friendship were crystal clear. Alex, ever the guardian, was there to protect and support, while Jordan, often caught up in the whirlwind of life, sometimes failed to see the depth of Alex’s dedication.


Imagine yourself a “Jordan”. You enjoy the vibrancy of life, often getting caught up in the moment. You rely on Alex, sometimes without fully realizing it, and perhaps take their constant presence and support for granted.

Now, become the “Alex”. Feel the depth of your unwavering commitment and the pain of often unacknowledged love and protection. Understand the frustration and patience intertwined in your actions…

ANOTHER untitled dream work…

abstract architecture building business
Photo by Snapwire on Pexels.com

“you’re at it again! you’ve been in one of them haven’t you?” She walks past with the groceries towards the kitchen counter.

He jumps off the couch, hurriedly taking them off. 

“Its not what it looks like! I made an executive decision, seeing that this one was about to “off “himself… Seemed like he had doubts about it and needed a helping hand, and I, I felt I could be that helping hand. You know, being that I’ve always wanted a go at one of those scenarios.” 

Trying to hide a growing smirk, but failing at it, he turns  and walks towards the bar.

She’s at the counter, groceries now on display. Mind between present conversation and what dinner should look like in an hour.

“I can’t do this right now! …You know what? I’m just going to have to leave you to your own devices, but mind you, we’re human, just like them. Did you even pause to consider that that MAN at the very last minute could have had a re-think of his actions? And if he did then what would that make you? Yeah! yeah!… a cold blooded KILLER!

Now standing at the bar, he’s pouring himself a drink of scotch. 

YO! that’s cutting it a bit too deep babe. I tell you, there is NO WAY this guy was going to change his mind. I’m F..ing sure of that. I’d been in that mind of his enough times to know that the world out there was getting to the poor bastard. Besides, I’m sure his re-occurring dreams of heaven, by heave I mean here, left him wanting more out of that slum of a life of his.

“Wait a minute, you mean you brought hime HERE?!” The information overload leads to a fire in her chest that needs quenching. She walks up to him with a look of surprise and disgust, snatches the drink from his hand and walks back towards the kitchen area gulping it down in one violent go.

He continues, “Look it was only his mind I allowed here. I was sure to switch to paralysis mode each time I left him here, trust me. I left his eyes and senses to wonder, but never the possession of my body.”

“And just how many times did you put him through that”, she said “HOW MANY TIMES?”

I don’t know! …6, 7 times? about an hour or 2 for each session, I guess. 

He pours himself another scotch. As he sips on it he reminisces, “O there’s this one time I had him here for over A DAY! Man, that was one fine experience out there”. He’s got that smirk again, but this time he stares into his glass with a far away look in his eyes as though back outside and in that moment.

She pauses cutting the vegetables, and with the same look of disgust she says “And you wonder why he wanted to commit suicide. You practically had that man feeling helpless. YOU TREATED HIM LIKE A FUCKING PUPPET. GOD!” She returns to cutting but with more vigour this time.

He hurries to hold her by her shoulders and looking into her eyes he says “ babe, babe, look, you need to understand. It gets really boring around here. Sometimes a guy needs  to take the edge off, you know what I mean?”. 

Then just drink already! You seem pretty good at that so far. Just don’t indulge in an already hellish environment by making the lives of those stuck there more unbearable for them. Realising herself for his grip she gasps, slamming a fist at ceramic cutting table; knife in the other hand.

“I honestly cannot believe you have the nerve to be all casual about this”. Point the knife in his direction. “Do you not understand what you are doing? And the length that you would go to lay the foundations of a suicide scenario. DON’T, even try denying it! We both know you only focused on that one specimen all because you intended to drive him to that point where he’d spiral, leading him to that last moment of despair.”

This time he gasps, trying to fake the horror of such an accusation, but at the last second he does a flip. “Well Brrravo DICK Tracy, Y’gat me! I must applaud you and your act of sanctimoniousness. Okay, so I took the liberty of running this little project on just one of the billions left behind in that hell hole. So what?!

You of all people know the shit guys in here pull in order to get off, taking up numbers of specimen at a time if they want. I’ve managed to keep it minimal and you want to – judge – ME? COME ON!

Its crazy enough that we stay stuck in this place telling ourselves we are safe from all the madness out there. All the pollution, all the violence!” Throwing his glass against the wall “Well it violent in here!” he growls, pointing feverishly at his temple. 

He leans up against the wall in need of support for his now buckling knees and slowly crumbles to the ground. “I ca.., I can’t breathe babe. How, how do you do it, this… this composure of yours?” Now he’s rambling “an.., and they’re so near and yet so far!? I can almost touch them, can almost taste it, all the “life” that comes with sacrifice of being out there amongst the filth. I mean, we only need to open the door to be a part of them right?. In a persona of exhaustion he says “You may not get this, but zombie mode is the only way I keep myself from actualising what I helped that guy do today….”

“Dinner is ready!” she says, walking past him toward the table with a dish of whatever sustenance she’s got whipped up. In an unsettling composure like that of a Stepford wife, she fixes him a plate and then steadily floats towards him. She then kneels to meet his tired gaze, dish in hand. Laying the plat on the ground, she lovingly strokes his now sweaty face, “You are tired honey, what say we turn in for the night. You know… I’m not judging you or anything, I just need you to take on a different perspective on being here. This place… its technology, it makes gods of us all, but the price we pay… it takes that of a formidable mind to survive it all… the confinement, the solitude, the monotony? She sighs as though tired of trying to make him understand.  “Come on”. Taking him by the arm she forces him up, greeting him with a long kiss. A smooch more of compassion than passion. 

Later on that evening…

The room illuminates and a female figure is seen moving towards the couch where he earlier sat carrying out his arguable feat. Looking down at the couch she reminds herself, “It takes a formidable mind”. She does a great job at concealing how encaged she feels within these walls, during the day, but at night is where she will need all her strength. A formidable mind will keep you sane within these walls, yes, but it takes an even more capable and adept mind to puppet an animal specimen versus a human one. 

Despite the challenges that come with indulging in the use of animal forms, one of them being the gradual eroding of moral sensitivity, she’d opt for it any time. Her basis for this decision, that humans themselves are trapped within an invisible barrier by their own conventions and conformities.

Now jacked up to the device she seizes control of her chosen beast for the night and with it she runs free. On some nights she’ll hunt; on others she becomes the hunted. The near death experience when being put to the slaughter; the pain of child birth, these are just a few of the scenarios in her bouquet of experiences she may pick and choose from each night. And lets not forget those evenings when she’s left at the mercy of her partner’s poor bed habits… this being one of them. She’s got the option of finding a mate or two during the course of the rest of the night. 

…But tonight, tonight  she’s got a different taste on her mind; on her tongue… 

MAN…

*THE END*

… on inspiration’s Isle she waits that she may embrace unorthodoxy…

on NOT raising rapists…

No its not poetry but #Adjustedsails delivers a POWERFUL message here “on NOT raising Rapists”… Enjoy!

Adjusted Sails's avataradjustedsails

“Nobody ever says I wanna be a [RAPIST] when I grow up.” I liked those late ’80s commercials stressing the importance of making early anti-drug decisions by choosing NOT to be a drug-user. As a passionate advocate of abuse prevention, I teach my children, and admonish others to teach their children, NOT to be rapists and NOT to be abusers (sexual, physical, emotional, or otherwise). People usually ask, “How? What’s a practical way?” My response: “Explicitly!” We don’t teach our children much else in vague terms. We don’t JUST say, “Mind your manners.” We say, “Don’t put your elbows on the table.” We don’t JUST say, “Respect others’ things.” We say, “Don’t go upstairs without their permission, or don’t run in their home, or don’t jump on their couch.” Well, I’d much rather your son run across my couch than rape my daughter! Likewise, I’m sure you’d much rather…

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Haiku

Poem of few words
 yet expressions speak volumes
 form 5-7-5