Dairy 3 "Roseline234"

so today I had to wait an extra hour for the laundry people to deliver my tux, I have always waited for this moment, I actually thought it was going to happen on two different days but dare I say God was on my side which showed once again that I am the good guy in this story. As I knotted my bow tie it reminded me of father’s funeral, I wanted to wear blue but mama thought I should do things the traditional way

 "Black is for mourning and we are mourning your father, this ain’t no hill billy circus convention"

She always found a way to use hill Billy in almost every witty sentence and have it make sense with her good old clean Texas accent, strangely I never picked up the accent, I mean I could bring it out when I really wanted to but it was never part of my usual daily accent. I had never been so confused as they lowered fathers white and gold coffin down the ground in Jack James memorial ground, from the video I looked a confused as a teenager trying to find the porn part of a birthing video, it hurt me to my soul to think i saw it happen, the two bald men that walked up to him in the back yard as he pulled his yams from the ground, they struck with a go-to-hell which got me bothered about were father was gonna end up.

That was six years ago today, luck shined on my when I six month old paper come flying to my phase as I walked the street of Rhode island from the hands of a hobo , it read

“TWO FRIENDS BECOME RABI AND PRIEST ON THE SAME DAY”

Bless sweet baby Jesus it was the two of them, they may have had caps covering their stinking bald head but their eyes, I could see it, those killers looked straight into my eyes from the paper mocking and laughing at every tear, pain and loss me and mama felt since that day. I rushed home like  Mary after she saw the stone rolled away, I have tracked them ever since then, they never stayed in the country long enough for my plan to manifest and the key to my success is patience

But you see when cousin Judith decided to marry and Clement a catholic young man and they could never decide where on whom the wed them, a Rabbi or a priest, this was one of my easiest ones, I just opened an account with bridetobe.com, there is a website for everything these days what ever happened to stuffing your problem inside until they came out the end as a good poop. We talked endlessly about shoes and bags and table cloths if white or off white when with dark blue or navy blue. As I sat through what was not my worst conversation ever; when the time was right I advised her to have a priest and a Rabbi wed her and guess who had one of each in her address book, Roseline234.

The story of the rabbi and the priest was a peculiar one, they both have lived rough lives with drugs women, alcohol; the usual drill until they had a some divine intervention and their soul was saved, that was what the paper read six months ago,.

But it wasn’t their soul wanted.

within

I pick up a pen to write my thoughts

The way i feel

The way it is deep down in me

The way my heart beats, the rhythm it moves to

But then i get scared, what would i find

Death or life

Can i contain what is within?

Am scared, really scared of what I’ll find

Can i control it?

Would it control me?

Would by thoughts eat me up?

Then i cloud it with flowers

A beautiful garden

With roses growing at all end

But then the grass runs dry

And the roses black

They are corrupted

I dare not conjure

I dare not raise

I dare not look within

Least i see my doom

Video Diary 2 "Cock Block"

So i know most of you expected this video to begin with some hot stuff that would get you hard or wet, like a video of me peeling the flesh off her head exposing her brain, and dapping the fresh blood off with my tongue, oh the taste of pure ion, the sting it gives my tongue. Well perverts sorry i couldn't , it confusing how all humans possess this organ yet some find a way not to use it, i say they are the real geniuses how the fuck does one pass by the brain and straight to the ass to think, wonders of the world.

  Clara was the one at the door alright, she was looking so..... What’s the word? You know that word you want to use to define something and it doesn't come out? Yea that one. She was looking half dressed, literarily and also for some BDSM action, she had the whole chain thing going on everywhere, it would have been more exciting if i was in the mood for strangling but sadly not like i said i loved to try new things it would be while before i try strangling again, too stressful and the fella never stays still, too much noise and racket.

  She had a thigh high leather boots and a little black dress, a Vera Wang dress. Yes I know a Vera Wang dress but that but that's an entry for another day mama thought me a lot, long hair was down cover her back which the dress exposed, i could see her nipples where angry through the dress and  her vagina? Twas on fire, we sat and talked for a while, she wanted to know all about my equipments, my tools, i told her i just got the Monkey Swing 5000, you could see her eye light up like a child on Christmas day but her eyes were nothing like Patty's.

   So i paused conversation for a while to go get some wine, i had forgotten my manners. While pouring the Merlot 67' a knocked came at the door, i wasn't expecting anyone. She asked if i was and i said no, i told her to get it so when i got to the sitting room you would never imagine my surprise, disgust and confusion. My eyes twitched a little, it was my angry tell, the wine glasses shook in my hands

  "Are you okay sir" the Jehovah's Witness asked me with a smile that burned through me causing a tear to form in my twitchy itchy eyes

   Bottom line, i had to spend my 16th birthday in bed with a bottle of "The Fuckeruper" while i tried to bore a hole through my palm with my cigarette.

Ultimate cock block

Dairy 1 "The Bell"

   I have always wondered, if I’d ever find time between my ever tight schedules to kill myself.

How would i do it?

   Maybe the slow slit on the wrist might be lovely? Monica seem to have loved it,  she seemed to have kept calm, eventually, after screaming for what seemed like hours, or maybe she was dead when she kept quiet, oh well how am i to know? I had to leave, it was happy hour at Mac Donald’s, double size hamburgers and a diet coke, no one misses that, well, i don't, patty works there.

   She has these set of lovely hazel eyes i would love to keep in a jar and her teeth are impeccable, white as snow, her pointy nose like the tip of a shiny arrow.

   My name is Isaac newton, you might wonder what a fine young man in this century bears such name, and I’ll tell you. You see my father Bright Corns met a soothsayer before i was born who said and i was going to be popular and have an impact on peoples life, so my dad being a scientist didn't know any one more popular than his role model Isaac Newton, he didn't even give me his name as a last name, he started training me in the lab as soon as i could walk, it eventually paid off, i mean i built all the equipments in my lair myself.

  I decided to create this diary because most of my works have gone unseen,  i am what everyone calls a serial killer or the NYC C.I.D calls Unique, they say the similarities between my works are that there are none, well what can i say i love to try new things although i beg to differ i am a smart , neat and nice young man, i am not a killer, i might end peoples life or give them a nudge to the other side or even end their worries, that doesn't make me a killer, that is such a harsh word to use on me. I love my work so much and if the police put in the level of dedication I put in my work in theirs maybe they would have found me but they are busy with names and tags

  Her name is Clara, we have been chatting for a while online, she is into extreme BDSM like me, my problem with her is that she is a hoe and with the money she makes from it, she doesn't even take care of her little son well, call me a savior but that is one less mean person in the world, he'll find a better foster family, the thing is i promised to screw her brains out.

  I have to cut this short. She is at the door i think. She is so fine.

  What a lovely 16th birthday present from me to me.

Pause..........

                                                          XoXo

                                                            I.N

Worshipping Mary

There has been this age on argument between the Catholic Church and other denominations regarding their HONOURING Mary, mother of Jesus. Here am going explain to the best of my ability logically the why it is not wrong.

When you decided to honour someone even as a society it is because the person has done something worthy of emulation.

History place Mary at the age of 15 to 18 when she was betroth to Joseph be married, she was also a virgin, firstly we see that it is pretty much hard to come by these days even at that age bracket Mary was, am sure God didn’t wake up in the morning  to throw a dice in other to select which of the 10,000 virgins was to become the mother of his son, there had to be something special about Mary that God loved, so please she is not just a road Jesus had to use because as you can see he loved her.

Marry was to be married to Joseph when the angel appeared to her and told her everything her response was “I am the lords servant, be it done unto me according to your words” she made this statement knowing the implications, ladies just put you self in her shoes, a virgin about to be married tells her fiancé that she is PREGNANT, but still a VIRGIN, and the HOLY SPIRIT is responsible plus the child she is carrying is JESUS do you see how that sounds, but she had to stick to her story because it was true, imagine what her friends, parent and people would have said about Miss Goody Two Shoes, the shame she would have felt! But by the grace of God Joseph was convinced and he continued with the marriage setting things right, when she was almost due, the census came up and the heavily pregnant marry had to travel with her husband by cattle days and night sitting, sitting uncomfortably probably without a back rest, when they finally arrived Mary was already due and looking for a place to stay and only God know how close she was to birth. We can imagined how stinky the manger was.

Regarding the catholic honouring and celebrating Mary, how wrong is that? Don’t we celebrate our mother on MOTHER’S DAY and our fathers on FATHER’S DAY? Isn’t mother’s day more celebrated that father’s day? Would Jesus be angry that we celebrate his mother? Didn’t he respect and love her enough to perform miracle earlier than he would at the Marriage of cana, he only did that because his mother interceded on the matter which is the case with many young men and their mother and we are called Christians (Chris-like, like Christ)

1 corinthians 6. 1-3

1.       Dare any of you, having a matter against another, go to the law before the unjust and not before the saints?

2.       Do ye not know that the saints shall judge the world? And if the world shall be judged by you, are ye unworthy to judge the smallest matters

3.       Know ye not that we shall judge the angels? How much more things that pertain to this life

So if the catholics believe she a saint and pray to her to intercede, because of her assumption into heaven, her life on earth, and her maintenance of virginity after the birth of Christ which I know is in contest because of

Matthew 12:46 “while he was speaking to the people, behold his mother and his brothers stood outside, asking to speak to him”

The Catholics says they were is cousins

Ibo people have argued long that they are part of the lost Hebrew tribe, similarities have been seen in there languages.. In ibo language everyone of close relation is called brother or sister even if you don’t have same parent, their isn’t really any word for cousin

John 19: 26-27

When Jesus saw his mother there and the disciple he loved standing nearby, he said to her “woman, here is you son” and to the disciple “here is your mother” from that time this deciple took her to his home

If he had brother why would he hand their mother over to a disciple????????

And about her being the mother of God, if you are a believer in the trinity, God the father, God the son , and God the holy spirit, well she is the mother of God the son

CHRISTIANITY IS NOT A RELIGION

It’s been a while since I wrote, I hope my topic caught your attention, yes I said it. CHRISTIANITY IS NOT A RELIGION it is a LIFESTYLE.

That word RELIGION is one of the worst things to happen to this world starting from the Jews killing by Hitler to the Islam bombing, down to the underage marriage. to the Medieval Witch Hunts.

But my basis here is Christianity, these white men brought this religion crossing the same seas and oceans these slave traders crossed to bring us this GOOD NEWS but as usual Africans or more Specifically in this article know it more than those who brought it.

The early followers of Jesus after he died where called CHRISTIANS meaning CHRIST-LIKE            in the sense that they emulated the lifestyle of Jesus that is why the early church which is the present day CATHOLIC CHURCH have their priest be celibate following that aspect of Christ’s life but presently Christian is nothing beyond going to church and reading the bible, greedy pastor standing at the pulpit reading the word that they have never and have not intentions of attempting to follow, the member are not left of, have you noticed that the so called born-again are the most wicked, stingy and the best gossips of all – time. This is because they carry the word on their mouth not in their heart.

THE BIBLE is a collection of historical event first of all passed down by the most unreliable source in the world called THE MOUTH which slowly changes little details to suits its self, then before written down in old Hebrew a lost  language from which it was translated to Latin before English, all these processes have changed is to was in different place but Chris gave us TWO rules

1.       Love your neighbor as you self which is further expanded as love your neighbor as Christ has loved you

2.       Love your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength

Christianity does not just lay in the bible it lays in the heart were love is, when you love someone you never harm or judge unjustly.

·         True Christianity lies in the ability to live the lifestyle not read the bible or attend all the vigils

·         It does not lay in giving huge donations in church where people get to see you and starving the poor girl that live with you or saying we are managing when you brother asks you for money, if you can’t show love to you neighbor then the love you think you show to God I assure you it does not pass your roof

·         It does not lie in giving cloths that are almost rag to charity in the name of alms giving

·         It does not lie in judging every actions of your neighbor , if you don’t know ask, if you don’t agree argue, if you can don’t just sit and judge, how would you like it if after obeying the ten commandments throughout your life you get to hell for judging a SINNER

·         It lie in accepting the Adulterer brought to you for judgment and the thief that is at you left or right, you see what Jesus asked, he said , if you have not committed a sin throw the stone, he didn’t say if you have not committed adultery, no sin is greater, don’t think my hell fire would burn hotter than your because am a murderer, homosexual, prostitute or thief just because you tell white lies

·         It is in the accommodating of everyone, both sinner and saints, it is in true forgiveness and kindness

·         If you judge people you have no chance to love them. Am not talking about judging little wrongs of your fellow Christian brother there is a very thin line there( 1corth 6)

 Personally I believe the bible isn’t as accurate as we all want it to be but through Christianity is in faith, blessed are those who haven’t seen but yet believe…. Truth is, if you truly want to practice Christianity the God in your heart would guide you

R.I.P (Return If Possible)

                                                                                                                 

We spoke throughout the evening of things that bothered him, of his unique ways of seeing Africa and some of their barbaric and unnecessary traditions, of the heart of men and their evil thoughts as sharp as a samurai’s sword.

 The night began chilly and windy; the moon appeared glowing through the window, the cricket were not left out with their chirping that sounded like they were all over the room it was the like every other night but tomorrow? That was unknown, i was taught that it gets pregnant today to give birth tomorrow and that all we had to do was wait. Curse be upon the father of tomorrow for it bore a bastard in my hands, a bastard I knew nothing of its origin, a bastard I was never going to accept, a bastard the came with blood a cold as the winter snow ball, a blood that mother earth was scared to accept, a blood that the million tears that followed it couldn’t wash away, a blood that made my heart beat stop with life in it.

As sat up on my bed that morning after the millionth sound of the crow that morning, the light dashed through my eyes and a cold feeling run through my stomach,  a sensation like never before as if a ghost ran through me.; the feeling reach my soul yet I couldn’t hold it to comprehend its meaning. As my bare feet touched the cold ground it went numb and I felt it no more, I made to wiggle but it stood there watching me, I looked up to the ceiling and my head  fell down back on its own accord, my eyes went north, east, west and south by itself. I closed my idea rapidly and held it tight to gain control so when I opened it everything was normal I gain except for the tears that gathered around my eyes itching my eye lids. I moved my feet to the bathroom, When i water splashed on my face sleep went dripping with it. The moment had come, the moment the skies wished it would never watch, the hour a tale that would be told for centurt began.

We greeted and the day began, who was I to know the music I would soon be forced to dance to? I was a mere mortal in the hands of life who only moved to its will. When I came back and saw him lay there my whole life rushed before my eyes and hit a brick wall, by blood ran cold and I could feel my heart no longer beat, goose bumps pop out all over, i was numb to my eyes , I could barely move, the strength I used to scream I didn’t know where it came from. He was gone I knew it; I just knew he was no longer here. I could no longer feel the weight  his presence carried, a lion had fallen. The Stripes of the leopard had changed. I didn’t know how to react, if to cry, how to cry but I found some strength that put me through the wait,  to give back to mother earth the dust she gave the us and to God the soul of his servant, I wanted to talk to him bit but how could I? I wanted to ask a few but how could i?

 Then the moment came for the last words, and then I wrote a letter, the longest letter I had ever written.

Dear Dad,

                 I see your signal but it is a fading wave, it moves my spirit but is that your spirit too? I remember the good times but aren’t memories not too weak to hold on to? I was too dumb to have understood the darkness I saw moments before the moment.

 The pen I write with shivers as I did that day, the day I left you for five minutes thinking you were fine was the most foolish assumption I have ever made and to think I would never be able to change it is as painful as only I can imagine, my only consolation is that to be absent in body is to be present with the lord. The fruitless attempt made to lift you proved that your strength didn’t just lie in your spirit alone but dust to the earth and spirit to God who gave it

When my young eyes saw a high tower glowing with darkness its mortal soul felt the hands of death and it has left me cold to the spine, heavy at heart and with a blow to the head. You walked the life briskly but when I glance back my tiny hand grasp a million of memories’ of you,

Your soul was yanked off from you, I know it, I saw it, but in the end when the fire burn we would see who burns.

                                                                                                                                                                Love your son