” Thank you ladies and gentlemen” “Now, I will call on our mummy here to present the award for the best student in Government for the academic session, may I have a round of applause?”  Mr. Lanre was booming on the mic with the full force and gusto expected of an event anchor. I was sitting calmly in the designated area for final year students of the college, my heart beating rapidly. “You might as well get up, boy, you know this is yours” James said, turning to me. “Man, I.. I don’t know, let’s just hope, right?”, I said, faking a smile. “Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this award is one of my very own students, a great, eminent scholar and she is also a very social person…”.                                                                 ‘She? What’s he talking about?. I paused and took a deep breath. It could be a grammatical error, a slip of tongue, I’m certainly not a female, that’s for sure’. “… yes indeed, this person is no other than….. Ezeanyi Jane!”                                                                   Silence. Deep Silence. Emptiness. Blandness. Void. A multitude of faces turned to me on my seat. I could not face them but I knew they were all thinking one thing. What happened? Right from SS1, I had seemed destined for that award, and here it was, stripped away from me, right before my eyes. Heavy as my hands were at that moment, I managed to applaud feebly as she made her way on to the stage with her mother. Yes, she was my friend, but I found it exceedingly hard to be happy for her at this particular moment. I felt robbed. “Ex….Excuse me please”, I muttered to James as I made my way up and away from the canopy. I didn’t have a single idea where I was going to but there and then, I felt murderous, or rather, like I’d been murdered.                                                                               As I trotted aimlessly down the sidewalk, I saw my uncle from afar. Oh God, I’ve disappointed him, I’ve disappointed myself. I tried to turn away but he caught me by the arm. “Ayomide, where are you going?” I looked at him. Slowly and solemnly, holding back tears from falling from my eyes..”Uncle Johnson, let’s go”. “What do you mean, let’s go? Go where”, he asked. “Uncle Johnson, we have to leave, now” “This is your fucking graduation, we can’t leave now, you haven’t even gotten food..” “Now, Uncle Johnson, else I’m going to fucking break down in front of every goddamn person in this place. Let’s go”. I turned around and walked as fast as I could, away from him, away from everyone, I felt betrayed. July 19 2018.

2018 was a rather disappointing year for me. I was disappointed in the society, I was disappointed in school, I was bitterly disappointed in people, and most of all, I was disappointed in myself. I learnt a lot of lessons about good, evil and morality. I learnt about the vanity of life, the wicked and conceited nature of men and even the weakness in myself as a person. Throughout the year, my mental structure was on the verge of collapse. Stress, Anxiety, Fear, Worry, Angst, Lust, Hatred, Envy; my mind was feeding on too much of these things and it became a very insecure place. It all starts from the mind. It’s in the mind. You don’t love anyone, you don’t hate anyone, you have no worries. Everything we face, first builds up in the mind, rather than anywhere else. Before you do it, you think of it right? Superiority, Dominance, Charm, Charisma. It’s all about manipulation, influence, the ability to hold people spellbound under an illusion. My favorite villain of all time is Batman’s Joker, but of all the people who have played that role, none enthralls me as much as Heath Ledger’s joker. That raw ability to be a psychopath is something I have always admired. The drive to do crazy things, to be a maniac, to be a complete madhouse, just because you can. I loved his Joker because you could always see the sheer lunacy in his voice and even by mere eye contact. Another thing I love about the Joker is the fact that there is no sane motivation behind any of his actions. The man’s unpredictable. He’d bomb a hospital today, the next day, he’d be stealing a crown jewel from some Scandinavian country. And no one, fucking no one can ask him why he did what he did (Probably because they’d be dead anyway) The third thing I like about The Joker is, he’s a fucking sadist. That is something I do not have and I wish I did. The ability to torture people in the most horrible manner and not bat an eyelid. Power. Dominion. Influence. And of course, a deadly smile and laugh, which he always wears on his face. He’s so good, even Batman himself acknowledges that The Joker is the best foe he has ever come up against. That’s something to aspire to. The ability to be so good at what you do that no one could fucking deny how great you are, even your enemies. To be honest, I don’t give a shit about New Year’s resolutions. What makes this year different from the next? We do. People do. Fuck January and the other 11 months, we could make a difference anytime we want to. I figured people just need that extra semantic piece of motivation to finally do something reasonable with their lives. And there it is again, the vain and futile nature of humans. People sometimes see me as negative energy because I try to be frank, honest and straightforward in all my dealings and conversation but I have to be honest, I lie. A lot. But unlike most people, I lie for the benefit of others, not mine. I am the worst person to ask for fashion advice because, unless you’re my mum, my sister or my best friend, I would tell you that you looked great, without even looking. I figure people have better opinions of you when you tell them exactly what they want to hear and so fuck it. Why do we put emphasis on the value of truth and honesty when we ourselves don’t do it?

Personally, I think a lot of drama could be avoided in life if people just swallowed their pride or were truthful and tolerant. Some people label me as a proud person, I really am not, I just tend to have a strong belief in myself most times. Not myself per se, but my knowledge. A lot of girls think they’re smart just because they raise their hands up in class and suck their teacher’s toes blah blah blah (Boys do this too sometimes but it is predominant among females) I believe intellect is something that’s relative, diverse. For example, I; Mide, am a very bad mathematician. My math knowledge is similar to that of a seventh grader but on the other hand, I can beat my chest on some other subjects like English Literature and Government. If you judge me by my ability to perform calulations as a measure of my intelligence, you’d believe I was the dumbest boy on earth. You don’t judge a fish by it’s ability to climb a tree. That’s exactly the problem with the Nigerian Educational Sector, but anyways, I won’t go into that now. After all, politics is a boring subject is it not?

In my final year of high school, which was earlier this year, my friend Joshua and I would often talk to our favorite teachers about academics, socials, and trivial issues of life. Among these teachers was Mr. Adewale; a man whom I cannot forget in a hurry, because he gave me a lesson in pride and self-exaltation, which is why I know the difference between those two concepts today. We both went to Mr. Adewale’s class and sat down in front of his desk, discussing about Government and politics. Of course, we found him easy to approach as he’s a relatively young man who we felt we could relate with. The conversation led to a dispute on intelligence and intellect. He asked us if we considered ourselves smarter than majority of people in our class to which we replied in the affirmative. “Do you consider yourself as smart?”, he asked me. I can never forget that day. “Well…relatively, when you compare with others in our class..” Joshua laughed and said he agreed with me fully. “Ah, I know your problem now” he remarked “Excessive hubris, that is it. Do you even know the meaning of hubris?” “Of course I do” I thought. Hubris was a verb meaning extremely musked out and dusty. I told him this and he smiled knowingly. “That’s not the meaning” “I know it is sir” I said, “Let’s see what Mr. Oxford has to say about that”. I reached for the dictionary  on his table and looked up hubris. I was wrong. Or rather, I had confused it with another word; “debris”                                                                             “Well”, he said “You certainly can’t claim to being alpha intelligent when you don’t even know the meaning of the word”. In an attempt to prove our intelligence, Joshua and I exchanged facts with him, some he knew, some he did not, and some, he countered with a more accurate fact. After a while, he simply laughed and went on to lecture us for quarter of an hour about various world happenings and historical facts and figures, some of which we knew, some which we did not, and some which we countered with our own. He pointing out to us that, throughout the course of our conversation, not only had he learnt new things, but we had also. He said that the fact that you know something someone else does not, does not mean you’re superior to the other person, it just means you have made a conscious effort to acquire something he did not. He said that the day we considered ourselves elevated or superior to other people would be the day we started losing ground. “Always be thirsty in your search of knowledge” and till today, I have made sure I have that message at the back of my head. To always be thirsty without satisfaction because this life is full of mystery and shrouds and as long as there is life, there is knowledge unknown, and hence, we are doomed to remain forever thirsty, in search of what we know we can never fully acquire, but yet we chase doggedly after it to acquire scraps, bits and pieces of the bigger picture which we can never fully comprehend. I like being the smartest person in the room and I feel challenged when there is someone of equal or superior intellect. This fuels my drive to do more and learn more. I was only the first position in my class once. Fola; the girl who always took the top spot told me something I also cannot forget. “I don’t understand you, you’re smart, you almost never read for anything and yet you always pass, the problem is, you’re either to lazy or to scared to apply yourself fully to academics.” I felt insulted then, but I think back on her words now and make sure I always keep my head down. As smart as you may be, you hold yourself to be or people assume you are, there is always someone out there better than you. And you have to push yourself to be the absolute fucking best, which is my solitary goal in 2019. Being successful gives you some leeway to be an asshole, I always point out the example of Jeff Bezos, who might be an ass, but no one cares, he could purchase all their homes anyway. And that’s exactly what I intend to be. Weird. Eccentric Strange. Uncool. Rich. Successful. Mide. Have a very merry Christmas and an exceedingly blessed new year ahead.

Ooh I’ve written two hundred and nineteen words in this post, I hope this is a sign or something




“Young man, come over here”, she motioned to me from the podium. To say I was scared shitless would be an understatement. I climbed to the podium, away from my schoolmates and stood by her side. “Show us your nails”. I looked at her with eyes full of despair, begging her with my body language, my hands still by my side. “I said, show us your fingers before I give you a slap here!” Slowly and reluctantly, I raised my palms up, turning them so my finger nails would face the student body. Wild gasps everywhere. Juniors and Seniors alike hooting with amusement and laughter, my face teary and sight blurred in shame and humiliation. “Students!” she bellowed into the mic again. “Is this a responsible child?!”. “Noooooo”. After proceeding to give a long droll speech about irresponsibility and juvenile delinquency, she handed me over to the principal for further disciplinary action. 2015. January.

I don’t know what to talk about. Politics? Soccer? Movies? Music? Or just ranting?

Either ways, I woke up in an unhappy mood this morning. Which is very strange because I sleep unhappy most times but then I wake up with renewed energy, but today happened to be different. I had a dream, which like most of my dreams, I don’t remember clearly, the main action I remember occurring in the dream was a parting of ways. My grandfather and I walked a dusty path in dusk and we both conversed freely about what we did talk about when he was alive; politics, truth, and epistemology. When it got to a point, he stopped me and smiled. We both looked forward and saw my grandmother; who died 7 years before in real life (7 years, time goes so fast.) On seeing my grandmother, he looked so happy. I had not seen a smile so radiant on his face for a long time, especially when he was diagnosed with cancer. He looked at me, and I understood it was time to go. He entered into some invisible barrier and they were re-united, they hugged each other in love and somehow I felt.. Wow, this is actually love. I tried touching them but they stepped backwards, choosing instead to wave at me from a distance. I wished I could follow them, I still do to be honest but there’s still something I have to do here. I don’t know what it is but whatever it is, I have to do it. I mean, if I didn’t have a reason to be here, I would not, the fan that broke loose from my room ceiling and headed in my direction didn’t cut me. I almost choked on an Ice pop not once, but twice (Gee, talk about being iced out) And there was also this incident I remember vaguely but my mother always talks about. I was about 5 years old and armed robbers broke into our old house downtown. You see, my dad was a cop back then and he’d probably made a few enemies I assume, so they broke in with weapons and arms, about 4 of them. My mother was heavily pregnant with my third sister then and so it could’ve affected her badly. We also had visitors; my extended family members and our neighbour’s wife so it was quite a rampage that night. “Where’s the money? Where’s the fucking money?” “We know your husband has money in this house, where is the fucking money?!” I didn’t like people oppressing my mum (well, except me I guess) and so I stood in front of her before they hit her with the gun. “Watch it!, Are you stupid? Don’t touch my mummy again!” I yelled. My mum tried to push me out of the way but I kept coming back yelling “You want to fight?! Fight me!” and pounding my fists against their knees (Or wherever I could reach as I wasn’t an exceptionally tall child) “Boss, let’s waste this one, and show them a lesson” said one of the bandits. My mum hauled herself in front of me, begging for my life and telling me to keep down. Long story short, this author right here could’ve had his life terminated before it even started fully. At least if I had died then, I’d have been proud and gone to heaven straight away. Wish I could say the same now. And yes, I would still do it again today. I would gladly lay down my life for someone who matters to me because.. I always have it at the back of my mind that I’m living on borrowed time for some reason, and if I feel the world needs you or your talent more than it needs me, then goodbye world. I’d rather die today for a just cause and impact the world, than live for 90+ years as some old worn out shoerag.

Thirty. Thirty years. That’s the time frame I give myself to do everything I want to do in life. Three decades. Some people accuse me of rushing into things like opportunities, emotions, relationships and whatnot. But I do believe in leaving in the moment. Carpe Diem. Seize the day. Life is all about your mind, that’s what I’ve figured out. If you have the ability to manipulate people, to make people conform to your will, not necessarily by coercion, but by their own will, you’d go far. A good example of this is Kanye and his Yeezy brand. Torn sweaters looking like they belong to Hobos and whatnot, yet people still grab them at every opportunity. Why? Well, I’ve never been an exceptional student of Logic, but I’m sure this is some kind of logical fallacy. The appeal to inappropriate authority. Argumentum ad verecundiam. They want to wear it because they follow this line of thought

  1. Kanye West wears the sweaters
  2. Kanye West is rich and famous.
  3. They like the idea of wealth and fame
  4. They want to be associated with emblems of wealth and fame
  5. Therefore, wearing Yeezy’s would help them do so

As you can see, the normal factors involved in buying a brand are neglected (Quality, Affordability, Material etc.) They just buy because it’s associated with Kanye, who is what they aspire to. I don’t know if I’m actually passing a message to anyone, but that’s where I want to be. I want to be able to put on some funky ass white socks with a fucking thick ass red sweater and rainbow coloured grill, and no one talks shit about it cause they want to be it, because they want to be me. You see, in this generation, everybody is uniform. No one wants to stand out and be themselves anymore and if you are.. If you do things that “normal people” don’t do on a normal basis, you’re termed weird or eccentric. I really do not mind, I’d hang out with transgenders, gays, lesbians, goths and emos, even if you’re a fucking Oompa Loompa. As long as you don’t judge, you’re cool and you vibe well with me then fuck it, we’re friends. I really don’t like when people where a mask of positivity and expect you to act like everything is alright when it’s not. Just smile, walk about, talk about sunshine and rainbows? Bullshit. What is this? Fucking Sesame Street? MLK and Malcolm didn’t die for this, man. And so if you’re out there, anywhere in the world, and you’re being stigmatized or segregated for being unique, my heart goes out to you. Stay weird. Normal people have droll lives. Until next time, see you later- Mid3



As a young boy, I was unlike many of my age at the time. Sure, I did play around to a reasonable extent and cause one manner of mischief or the other, but I preferred to stay alone, solemnly unbothered in peaceful silence, reading about the Cold War, Stalin, Hitler and other historical figures with my Encarta Premium app or rather, reading my Uncle’s Maxwell Leadership Bible (which I still have to this day; although I regrettably read it less)                                                                                                                                       My mother would often tell me to go outside and make friends but I was wise enough to know that ‘friends’ are usually just human elements of compounding whatever sorrows and issues you had in the first place. And so I stayed secluded in the comfort of my room or my private study, sometimes staying there a whole day, coming out only when I needed food, a drink or the loo. Sometimes, I wish I could go back to that period again, to a time I didn’t really care for people’s opinions, women or whatever. A boring yet simple and educative life. 

During this period of my life, I learned a lot of fundamental truths about humans and human life that helps me even to this very day. I learned through studying characters like Apollo, Zeus and Diogenes, that the nature of humans and humanity is ludicrous. People can be easily manipulated to succumb to your will if you are charismatic enough. Of course, some people are harder to manipulate than others, but in the end, everyone is sand or clay that can be modelled by anything, be it family, society, environment, religion, you name it. This factor must have contributed to my identity crisis later in life because… on deep examination, you wonder, who am I? Am I just some sort of machination of societal beliefs and values? Am I who I am because that’s who my dad and mum want me to be? Who am I really? As my close friend, Joshua would say, sometimes Ignorance is indeed bliss. Critical thinking leads to depression. Albus Dumbledore would tell you the same thing if he were alive.. or you know..if he were real. Over the course of life, I’ve also met some fictional characters who I took as better than humans. Harry Potter was one of them, Snowball in ‘Animal Farm’ was another. Also, I saw slight images of myself in some real people, people I never knew personally but I’ve read and researched extensively on. Michael Jackson, Jordan Belfort and Fela Kuti all fall into this category. In Michael Jackson, I see a talented character, always trying to be happy and make people happy at the same time despite being stigmatized due to his child like behavior and being over pressured by his record label and his family. Michael Jackson was a lonely figure. In his autobiography “Moonwalker” which I’ve read repeatedly, there weres quote that caught my eye which he wrote himself 

“I put a lot of mannequins in my room in the past. I still have mannequins in my room, because I used to be very lonely. Painfully lonely. So lonely. You have no idea. I used to walk the streets looking for people to talk to. I’m talking about the height of one’s career. “Off the Wall,” “Bad”, “Thriller,” and people…I would walk up to them, strangers, and say ‘Will you be my friend?’ They’d go ‘Oh my God, it’s Michael Jackson!’ That’s now what I wanted. I wanted somebody to love you or be my friend for me and not for the external me.”

Michael Jackson

“People think they know me, but they don’t. Not really. Actually, I am one of the loneliest people on this earth. I cry sometimes, because it hurts. It does. To be honest, I guess you could say that it hurts to be me.”

Michael Jackson

He was very lonely and despite this, people still labelled him as “weird”, “eccentric” and “Wacko Jacko”. He died a rich, wealthy man, but also a lonely and unhappy man. In some ways, I really connect with him and how he felt. Alone.

Jordan Belfort on the other hand was a crook, and quite a talented one too. I read and watched his book “The Wolf Of Wall Street” in which he narrates his experiences living as one of the wildest men in America. Believe me, I’ve seen a lot of bad motherfuckers in my life, but Jordan Belfort is the single most crazy motherfucker I’ve ever seen, Spending a million dollars on a single party, “doing enough drugs to sedate the whole of Guatemala”, and even throwing money at FBI officials. Sure he’s not exactly the best figure to look up to but I don’t really give fucks. He made 400 million dollars before he was 26, if that’s not a good figure to look up to then I don’t know what is.

Fela Kuti. A legend. In my opinion, he is and will always be the best artiste Nigeria has ever had. I listen to his music everyday and I have over twenty of his songs and LP’s. It really ticks me off when people see listening to his music as barbaric and ancient. He spoke the truth, and if there’s one thing I’ve learnt in these past few months in the university, it’s that no one wants to hear the truth. No one wants to be confronted with the bitter facts of life and about themselves. If you speak the truth, you’re seen as an obstruction to peace or someone who stirs up controversy. Well I say fuck that. Everyone lives like robots, they want to do what their peers are doing. Oh, he drinks, he’s very cool, oh he smokes, he’s very cool. Bullshit. Be yourself. I could drink or smoke as long as It doesn’t harm anyone, it’s no one’s fucking business. Same applies to anyone. And if you don’t, It’s also not anyone’s business. I remember an occasion when I was listening to Fela’s ‘Zombie’ in the privacy of my room, at a moderate volume, when someone came in and asked why I was listening to Fela. At first I was amused. What the hell. Are you seriously going to tell me what and who I can listen to? What are you? Fucking Gestapo? Of course, I said all this in my head (You’d be surprised at the number of raging thoughts that stay hidden in my mind everyday). He then went on to explain how someone of my age should not be listening to that type of 80’s/90’s music and I should listen to more contemporary tunes. He then proceeds to play ‘I Love It’ by Lil Pump and Kanye West (Brilliant selection of contemporary music isn’t it?) and I am forced to listen to almost three minutes of misogynist lyrics which would certainly have a horde of feminists raging at me had I played it in public. I could not believe how fast I went from Fela’s powerful political lyrics and melodic horns to the music of an 18 year old who can’t even spell “ignite” properly

” All my niggas getting ignorant, like a lighter, bitch we ignant

Lil’ Pump (I Love It)

I find it extremely sad that we, Nigerians tend to hold foreign ideologies and products in higher esteem than our own. This is exactly what Fela would’ve referred to as “Colonial Mentality” Black is bad, White is good. That’s the message we pass everytime we choose to buy Rome or Shanghai instead of Lagos or Kano. Support Nigerian businesses, grow our economy, vote during elections. Nigeria won’t just get better overnight, we make it better with our hands.

Well, that’s about it for this post. Thank you for reading if you made it as far as the end. I leave you with the words of the late Steve Jobs. “Stay hungry, stay foolish”



I SWEAR I’LL NEVER DRINK AGAIN                                                                                          I SWEAR I’LL NEVER DRINK AGAIN                                                                                            I SWORE I’D NEVER DRINK AGAIN                                                                                            I SWORE I’D NEVER DRINK AGAIN

Overdose, happens to those we love most                                                                                    Leaving them comatose, thorns prickly like a rose                                                                      No memories of what happened before I slept                                                                              Hangover. Got all these memories hanging over my head.                                                        Like a facecap, don’t know where to go, Lord show me a map                                                  I’m falling into white and red wines, enticed by her sweet lies.                                                Failing to be wise, i’m taken by surprise                                                                                        Shot after shot I take, leaving ethanol in my wake, my sanity’s at stake.                                Considering this, my liver should be muddy but yet I sip this bubbly cause it’s lovely    Makes me forget my rent is due, think i’m gonna stop? Jokes on you                                    My last therapist had to go see another therapist, my mind’s tight as an iron fist            My eyes don’t see again, vision in mist falling like the rain.                                              Don’t touch my drink or i’ll kick your balls, and hit your face on the walls.                           I can’t stop even if it’s bad, either ways it’s my life, why does it make you mad?                From the looks of things, liquor’s come to stay, taking my problems from me, far away.  I’m overdosing on liquor, downing it with much vigour, saves me from stress and rigour The bar is my church, the beer is my bible.                                                                                   I know you don’t like it but you don’t have deep issues like I do

EDIT: For those accessing this with phones, I apologize concerning the alignment issues which would be rectified in earnest

The Bar is my church, the beer is my bible


Weight of the world

Great first piece

Strings of My Heart

Inspired by a great artist #Jon bellion the weight of the world. Growing up i only had one role model which is my Mum, I heard stories about her from her friends like

What a kind woman she is

What a generous giver she is

What she can do to a limit to make everyone around her happy including family, so I decided to grow up being like her, learning what it means to help others, but its not just about helping people in need, you have to feel it, and I felt it and it felt good and that’s why most of you know me today as a selfless human being because I put peoples need ahead of mine because whatever I do in life and the kind of impact I make in peoples lives matters . it’s a legacy that I’ve laid down through out my life and…

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Shall I Compare Thee To A Gust Of Wind?

Shall I compare thee to a gust of wind. For such is apt for you indeed. Always far and never near. Your flightiness gives me such fear. Here at one moment and away the next. When I complain, you hide under false pretext. Tell me how I sleep on a bed of lies! You are not even there to hear my cries. And so this metaphor I shall make. Because my heart is at stake.

Shall I compare thee to a gust of wind? Your expression, I always cannot read. You remind me of a hive of bees. Buzzing in and out whenever you please. You come in like a gentle breeze. And when you leave me, I’m in a freeze. I thought it was just a phase. That you wanted to explore the place. But now with unsavory thoughts in mind. I wonder why I’m always left behind.

By Mid3


Two vodkas, three Martinis and an intense make out session. What more could a man need? Approaching my front porch, I could barely see anything. Hell, my feet were clumsier than Jerome Boateng defending Leo Messi. Christ, i’m fucked up.

“Flubba Lubba Dub Dub” “Dubba Flubba Lub Lub” “Lubba Dlubba Fup Fup”                      I crack a psychopathic grin at my 6 foot mirror. Jesus H. Christ. I’m so wasted. After a series of stumbles and grumbles, I finally make my way on to my bed. My room’s untidy asf. My belts on the wardrobe, my basketball jerseys and shorts on the mirror and desk and even more shocking, my pajamas were on the fucking fan. Literally. I groan and mutter something inaudible to myself. How the fuck do I get those things off a ceiling fan which was in motion…. Urgghhh.                                                                                            CRASH

I woke up the next morning with broken glasses, lopsided vision and disheveled hair. I cannot remember anything that happened after that. My brothers are still sleeping. It’s fucking 6:24 and i’m already up. Where is this? Babcock? I grimace at the thought of having to go back to the school. God knows I hate that place and the people there. For three fucking months, i’d controlled the irresistable urge to run and curse at everyone there wildly. Every single person there repulsed me in one way or the other and I was glad to finally be home for the holidays. No more bad press at least. I’d gotten into too much rumour mills already. Every fucking second I spend there feels like a scene from the ITV show :”I’m A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here!” Unfortunately, escape does not seem like a possible option. At least not now. I’m spending 5 years in Hell on Earth, eating Tofu and only Lord knows what else. Well, I’ve got two weeks before I go and those two weeks are going to be the fucking highest two weeks of my entire llif3. I’m going to break every fucking rule in the fucking book of fucking rules and thereafter scream my balls out with maximum adrenaline, yelling obscenities at everyone and everything humanly conceivable.

But until then, I will be writing on my newly found blog which I tagged the very sad title of ‘LIFE OF MID3’ which primarily focuses on the life, opinion, experiences, relationships and thoughts of arguably one of the most complicated and fucked up minds to have been depressed. Also, if you are struggling with depression, suicide is not the answer. My stab wounds don’t kill me (Probably because I don’t stab hard enough) rather, they just leave more scars on my body and my heart. So if you are struggling with negative thoughts and feelings, just find an obsession or distraction, be it positive or negative, at least in the meantime, to take your mind away from the ludicrous nature of the world and it’s majorly unfortunate inhabitants. I would be reading and addressing your comments (Which is why I left the comment option open) and I do hope I could impact something positive on your lives. Until then, I bid you farewell and wish you a happy festive season (You know, if it actually means something to you)

Oh look, a plant. How exciting.