out of this world

Archive for the tag “writing”



Lately, I dread the the call of dusk

‘cos night times are so unpleasant 

Those scary monsters come out to play

Invading my mind,

Sucking at my brain,

flossing their teeth with my locks.

Sticking their bloody fangs in my veins

Bloody blood suckers,

they want me dead

so that they can munch at my heart.

My eyes rotate helplessly in their sockets,

trying to manipulate the gruesome visions.

Mean! Mean! Monsters.

Cowards they are, lurking in the dark,

preying on an helpless insomniac like me.

Insomniac pleading for just an hour!

An hour to experience Sweet dreams.





I was assured it was going to last a life time.  Regular servicing was all it needed.

Maybe I did. Maybe I did not…It broke down mid year when it was most needed. I lost the manual and I ran out of oil so I made a call to the manufacturer but I got no reply because I dialed the wrong number. How could I have been so silly? No manual, no oil and no number!

I decided to take a trip to their warehouse but I needed the engine to make the trip, my faulty engine. I wished I could get it fix. I remembered my nosy neighbor once said  that the ‘everywhere man’ can fix everything. (My nosy neighbor talks funny but she seemed to be always right).

I have heard so much about the everywhere man but never have I seen him. I would not have recognize him if he stood in front of me. I wondered where the‘everywhere man’ could be.”Finding him could save me travelling above to the manufacturer”, I thought.

Five hundred thousand miles away from home. Lost. Tired. Lonely. Broken. Thirsty and dead. Super dead. I laid my head on a solid rock, closed my eyes wished them never to open again. Suddenly, the irregular beat began, so did the pounding. I began to convulse, I hit my head hard on the solid rock but my skull refused to crack open but the engine in my chest vibrated violently that I thought it was going to burst out of my chest. “It was all going to end right here”, I thought to my dying self. I was dead to me. Very dead. “No one is ever going to find me here. No one. What a lonely way to die”, I thought.

Little did I know that my nosy neighbor was spying on me? She saw me sneak out of my house that fateful night. She went in search of the ‘everywhere man’ and She spoke to him on my behalf.

That everywhere man did a good job fixing it. He did unclog my engine and made it as new. He gave me all I needed to service it regularly- the Manufacturer’s manual, number and the engine oil. He did take me home too.  I never knew my nosy neighbor could be that useful to me. Thanks to her nosiness, I got it working again and I got to meet the everywhere man.



(learning process, bear with me).



 Just say NO

I found this beautifully penned words on twitter.

I fell in love with the writing and the message instantly.

Sure ,  I’ld never keep this to myself:

Oreoluwade blogs here:

LIVING IN NEVERLAND blog Affair (episode 2)


HUGO has just finished typing on his laptop. He is about to

send when he gets a call.

He checks the caller – Anna.

He answers.


(listens for a while)



Okay. Coming.

Hugo closes his laptop and walks off.


ANNA sits quietly on the bench.

Hugo walks over to her.


Three weeks.


Yep. And now I finally have



That’s nothing. What happened?


What do you mean by what happened?


Why have you chosen to write about her?


What wrong with writing about her?


your follower…they have read and loved

everything you have written and posted every week for

two years now.have you… did you give them a thought

when you decided to write about her?

you are the guy who has written

about Asa and Nneka and Nse and

Leila and the Asian girl in Girls

in the Hood… now you chose to writes about a

controversial self proclaimed celebrity with a stripping past?


Did you understand the angle I WROTE the piece from?


the angle is stil no justification in my opinion.


It won’t hurt anyone.


JK wrote a book and that didn’t

hurt anyone.


She made love to so many wizards

for so many nights. She too was a

bad girl.

(Anna stares at him for a while.)


You can’t post it.


(sighs, looks at Anna


I’ve been lost for a while. Her

blog helped me find myself. Let’s

forget about her stripping past and

focus on who she is now.


I need this. I’m like Gil Pender.

I need to walk in the rain


Anna looks at him quietly for a while.


What about your readers?


I hope they understand.



you should Follow some of them esppecially the regular ones,

 Get personal and know what they’ll think about



I’ll do that, Anna.thank you.

Anna kisses him on the cheek.


Be a good boy, Hugo. Anna cares.


written by Jaywriterug



LIVING IN NEVER-LAND: Blog affair (episode 1)

 This is not poetry. It is drama. It is not a typical drama .

It  is an experimental piece, WRITTEN FOR FUN AND FOR LOVE OF WRITING.

I  do hope you enjoy it. I will surely like to know your thoughts. 

Amity and Jaywriterug will be taking turns to write the  few episodes. 

Thank you.





 It’s a rainy day . Kingston

 Clare sits on a couch with a mug of hot chocolate clutched

tightly in her palms.

 She stares as the rain drops makes pitter-patter on the


 After a while, she turns her attention back to her blank

computer screen.  She refreshes it but still there was nothing new.


  CLARE (V.O.)

There has been no new post for about  three weeks now. It is unlike him.
(She stands up from the couch and moves towards the window, still

clutching her mug of chocolate.  She drifts to Neverland.)



Why don’t you DM him on Twitter?



Hmmmm… No. I’m not that desperate. Moreover, he does not

  follow me.


JOHN (moves closer to her)

But you are desperate Clare! Look at you, you look as though your man

 has abandoned you for months. Get a grip and do what you do best.
 CLARE (without shifting her gaze from the falling rain)

What do I do best John, what do I do best?



You, Clare built neverland out of nothing!

That isn’t real!

Is he real?
 CLARE (turns to face John)

Are you?
 JOHN  (looks away)

But I love you.

You don’t write.

 ( She turns her attention back to the rain.)



He stopped writing too. Can’t you  see?

( Clare moves back to the couch.)



He hasn’t.

(clicks on laptop screen)

 He must be busy… Or maybe… There must be an explanation for

 his absence.
JOHN (sits beside her)

 Do you think he notices you?



 He does reply my comments.



 He does that with all his readers.


  CLARE (sighs)

 Are you going to help or not?

I love you Clare.



 I will tweet at him.



I will wait. I am patient.



You can start a blog while you  wait.

Pale Blue Eyes plays in the Background


 JOHN (kisses her lightly on her forehead)

You will love me someday.

 ( He walks away.)

INT. Clare’s room.
Clare types briskly on her laptop, pauses to read through,

then clicks ‘enter’.



(She is about to sign out when the notification icon flashes.

Quickly, she opens it.)


to be continued…



Way out

I found a way out of the maze

Time stood still or so I thought 

While I wandered in the maze 

Searching for that which seek me not 

 My part I played well  of this I am sure 

Broken and mended, over and over 

 Out went I never to return to walk

 through the  maze of love


The last leaf of confidence on the

sickened tree of self value fell softly

onto the soil of society. It was now

dead. That tiny bit of worth she held to

her core vanished almost

instantaneously. Poof. The doubt

enveloped her mind like a puff of

smoke from a cigarette. Just by an

inconsiderate comment. They say God

breaks you to make you, but it feels like

the devil makes you to take you. How

can mere letters have a double edged

sword so sharp it pentrates your wall

as if it was melted butter. Now all the

snipers defending it have been hit. Take

no notice of this chipped glass. It has

no bottom so the water cannot be

contained. S.O.S. Stop ourselves. From

the poisoned seeds we plant into our

hearts. Can you graft a daisy with a yew

Written by Kadeen


She tries to touch him. He pushes her away. calling her all sort of filthy names.

He does it all the time, treating her like she is nobody to him.

They used to be inseparable until she said ” I do”.

Gosh! How it drives her mad. She tries hard to control her own temper which is gradually welling up inside of her.

“Stop!” She begs, tears rolling down her face. She can’t stand the rejection anymore.

She moves away from him to the window. She needs fresh air.

She can feel  the walls closing up on her.

She feels faint, quickly, she holds on to the window frame for support.

“Rich … Richard, I…I  only want you to…… love me… I don’t think that is too much to ask… as your wif…” she tries to explain.

He cuts her off mid sentence, “You have no right! No right to demand such of  me!” he barks  at her “I choose when to do whatever !”

It is too much for her to bear. This is suppose to be the beginning of the rest of their life together.

It was barely a week  into their ‘talk of the town wedding ceremony’.

He barely looks at her or speaks to her. she feels like a stranger in her own home.

She can’t stand it. She runs out of the house never to return.

Her lifeless body squashed like a fly under the wheels.


She dragged herself along the dusty and narrow path that led to the notorious twelve pins.

The path was well hidden by bushes so that only those who knew about the twelve pins could access it.

She had heard them talk quietly among themselves about how ‘magically dangerous’ the twelve pin is.

They, the ‘strange ones’, with the funny hair cut.

She had never thought she would be going there herself as she had always sneered at them with the funny hair cut.

As if hypnotized, She found herself  heading there  that  evening.

She craved ‘magic‘ Suicidal as it seemed.

Her heavy feet dragged along the dusty path.

It was a long walk and her throat begged for a drop of liquid.

Any liquid.

Her heart beat faster with every step she took closer to the twelve pins, threatening to bust out of her aching chest.

As she dragged herself along, thoughts of earlier occurrence burdened her  heart.

She needed to forget it.

After walking the seemingly never ending length of the bushy path, she came to a wide opening and right at the

center was the twelve pins.

She headed towards it  with the little strength left in her.

Once she got to the entrance which looked like a lion’s open mouth, she pressed the teeth-like buzzer and a husky

voice asked for the pass-code.

She knew the pass-code because she had overheard it from the them with the strange hair cut.

She nervously repeated what she heard.

The door swung open.

She walked in, her heart in her mouth.

The air in the dimly lit room  was kind of offensive to her nostrils but it really did not matter to her.

She had a mission and the mission must be accomplished.

She found her way to the counter.

She could feel all eyes on her.

She knew they knew she was new and different too.

She had always been different.

She never seem to fit in anywhere.

Her being different brought her this far.

She needed a cure.


She wakes up early staring at the picture once again

Hoping it will give her answers this time

It stares back at her in mocking silence

The silence holds the answer

The answer had been with her all along

She was too overwhelmed to feel it

Her teary eyes could not to see it

Her bleeding heart too feeble to beat to its rhythm

She had it all. She lost it.



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