The Ex Files
The truth is out there; I never cheated on you
But I’m lying if I say I’ve never been tempted to
Remember that night you called really late; and
I said I was staying over at Sam’s?
You see, that was one lie; I was with her
No not that ‘her’…I’m talking about the other…yeah…her
Ahn-ahn now, there’s not too many ‘hers’
So why are you already saying ‘ha’?
Look, I can stop talking now but I need you to know the truth,
My strange behavior lately? You need to know the root
Those nights with no credit, I would just scream your name
You said nothing’s changed; it just didn’t feel the same
Felt like I had gone from ‘the man’ to just being ‘a man’
So I found myself sniffing around plates I’d already ate
Running around with exs from morning till really late
I meant no harm; as usual, it was nothing,
We had managed to remain friends, no fronting
But we met again, and the sparks really flew,
That started me doubting what I feel for you
It’s was that initial ‘her’ that started it,
She with the straight dark hair and freaky hips
And then it began to move really fast; one after the other,
From the latest back to the first; in that order
Bimbo, the one with the largest ______s,
Comforted me, said I could put my heart to rest
Onye wanted to get it on again, no stress
Damn girl is married; and didn’t she call me ‘second best’?
Hauwa had the best head in all senses of the word,
Lips that seem to say ‘I know what you want; just come!’
And I couldn’t help but compare them to you,
I know; it’s not fair but what can I do?
Except try to make it right, and that’s too clear
The truth is out there, I think it needs to be in here
I want to believe we can still make it,
This is coming from my heart; I’m not trying to fake it
See, you know I have never cheated on you,
But I think I lied when I said that too
Speak Of the Devil
You think you know me but you have no idea. Your minds are too small to comprehend exactly how big I am. How vast.
Know what the best part of the ‘small minds’ debacle is?
It’s the fact that your mind is not small by itself. It’s so large that you can fit in an inordinate amount of stuff into it; ergo you can conceive anything with it, from it, by it. The joke is you don’t understand that, so you continue to delude yourself into all sorts of passivity. Just watching things go by.
Watching your life wind down just like a clock.
I’m not complaining. Actually it’s great for business. But I digress.
I was telling you how impressive I am.
I understand you measure importance by material substance; just another example of how you ‘abuse’ your minds, but that’s not my problem. I understand that, so allow me ask; do you know how much property I own?
A mansion? A street in Dubai? A…a bank?!
Did I hear someone say ‘estate’? You insult me.
Do you know planet earth; the world, mother earth? That planet with moving wagons and noisy boxes and funny smelling things that talk and walk…despicable beings? Yes…that one.
I own it.
I control and rule it.
That and a fascinating percentage of those weak, smelly things that inhabit it. I know, I know. I don’t look it, right? You wouldn’t think someone that looks as good and innocent and shiny and radiant as me would have that kind of power would you?
See what I was saying about your minds?
Ah, I see a beginning; the dawning of comprehension within those eyes of yours but do not rob me of my moment. Allow me to re-introduce myself.
I’m Lu Cipher, a prince.
You look surprised. Was that not part of your history/theology class?
Okay. You know me by my more popular monikers: devil, Satan, ‘Lucifer’, Morning Sun (I actually like that one), prince of liars, king of thieves…c’mon. C’mon!
They even call me ‘the accuser’. Isn’t that funny?
So someone who has evidence; honest evidence to present to the court in a murder case is an ‘accuser’. Justice sucks, right?
Pah. Humans. They talk about me as if I don’t have any feelings, which I don’t actually – I had them driven out of me a while ago. We’ll talk about that in due time.
The other day I took a walk through my property; I like to be close with my subjects, and I saw this movie; ‘Devil’s Advocate’ or something equally…suggestive. I sat and watched it, wondering if it was another slander material designed to make me look worse than I already do, but I actually enjoyed it. It was the truth; plain and simply put. I still have not made up my mind what to do for that writer.
I know you have been fed with all kinds of balderdash as to who I am and why I do what I do; courtesy of a little busy-body called ‘the spirit’, but you have not heard my part of the story. After all, the winners write history.
This is why I decided to pen this autobiography, so that in case anything happens to me, you would have the truth of the matter. What really happened.
First of all; look at me. Closely. Here, I’m not gonna steal your soul just like that. That was Shang Tsung in Mortal Kombat! I like it.
Anyways, look. Do you see a tail? Horns? Do I have…hooves?! Haba!
You humans annoy me so much, it’s crazy I bother being nice to you, catering to all your wants and all that. I’m just a really nice person
And by the way, it does not hurt so much any more since I had the chance to play a similar joke on you guys. Who do you think is responsible for the ‘white Jesus’ idea?
Hahahahaha! You’re shocked?! I like that. In fact, I like you. So did you actually think he was white…or are you shocked by the fact that I can call his name without flinching?
Tricks of the trade, friend. Meanwhile…
I saw a t-shirt on some young Mohawk wearing idiot the other day; it had that red horned head (quite annoying, I must tell you!) grinning along with the inscription “God is busy. How may I help you?”
Now while I was incensed with the picture, I fully appreciated the caption. I’m nothing but a humble service provider, catering to the whims and caprices of my constituents. And why not?
Is that not what any good leader does?
Don’t ask where I’m leading you to. We’ll get to all that in due time. Let’s start from where it started. The real beginning.
First of all just to be clear on something, it didn’t start with a ‘war’. That came later.
It started with envy; the envy of a boss for his assistant. That was how it started.
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Inspired by Kaycee Uzor’s Unholy Bible.
We were but strangers across a board
You sat and stared, I did not sit at all
And might have gone on but for a moment we shared
Saw something funny; laughed and didn’t care
Got to talking, you were waiting for your man
I was there for the lunch
Didn’t seem to notice that we drew stares,
I was just making a new friend, a trend so rare
Time passes; like trash in waste cans,
I was there when you went for that test – and
I was there, through those lonely nights
When you would call me, not him – cause y’all just had another fight
We were like brother and sister; Ne-Yo and Rihanna
When I heard he punched I snapped and nearly threw him under
A moving car; such was my anger
Now calm down.
Yeah, y’all made up; you made it through the worst
Funny, I did not even feel like I was hurt
I was so happy, because you were so happy is all
But that still did not stop the late-night calls
Suddenly; the dam burst forth; like the leeves broke,
We let our guards down; and it was murder she wrote
And Jaheim I quote
It was innocent enough; I mean everyone talks about sex
From the lecturers to the pastors; hell they do it best
So what was the big deal? We were just friends sharing
A little too much; all in the name of caring
Then we began to talk about this sex in excess
Sentences like ‘Is he doing you right?’ and ‘He goes on for too long’
Whoever gave me the right to make his wrong right?
And as this sad song I write,
I remember, your lips writhing, hips twisting
Pleading, for me to quench the flames my fingers had awakened
Me thinking; I just want to do a little kissing,
A little touching, a little necking
A little pleasing; that started a lot of drenching
In sweat and sweet love’s gum
In mouth and tongue moisture and nature’s _______
I wish we had not started, now I cannot stop
And the worst part? We no longer talk
Except in the sensual language of sweating bodies,
Panting breaths and groaning bedposts
Me and you together, misting up the predawn air,
Tapping it from the front, hitting it from the rear
We never ever get done, we always want more
Now I wish I could exchange that for something long gone
It’s funny how now all I feel is loss
Loss; and an incredible boulder of guilt.
Friends and scribes… Top of the day to y’all.
On the top burner for my management and I are the winners for the 1st installment of #Creatweet.
The debates were very hard and long which is typical when you have an eclectic mash up as judges. The fusion of strategy, copywriting/creative writing and art direction produced a unique set of mechanics to evaluate the entries.
The mechanics deployed are as follows:
1. Completeness of the story: The narrative should be a closed loop – nothing should be left to the imagination. Complete resolution of the plot.
2. Content: How engaging is the plot. Did it startle and surprise? Any devices of grammar like symbolism or inversion? Any metaphor or personification etc.
3. Style: Inventiveness. Wit. Twists and Suspense?
4. And of course – the typical lexis and structure blah blah blah.
While all submissions had one or two of these elements, the winning entries resolved completely the causal factors and consequences captured in the plot (each in the last sentence). They had in them no imminent story arc that requires either a prequel or a sequel.
That said, here are our winners:
1st Prize Winner:
Ndu | #DOCB CDs OUT @Bloody_Voyeur
He screamed, screamed. There was blood. She had stabbed the cheating bastard with a kitchen-knife. ‘Cut!’, the director called. #creatweet
#creatweet He slipped the ring on her finger as their lips met in a passionate kiss. She moved closer to him. And fell out of bed. Dreams!
“I’m scared of spiders”, she said. He was hurt. “We can’t work out”, he said. “Why?” she asked. “No reason”, Peter Parker replied #Creatweet
Asides the N2000 recharge units we are giving each of these guys as a token of our appreciation for their help in getting us a working proof of concept for the
#Creatweet, the 1st prize winner would also be going away with a book – The Yellow World by Albert Espinosa.
Life is about following that inner bliss into a world of a thousand suns – the yellow world – where we run free and uninhibited in unlimited possibilities. That’s our wish and prayer for all our friends. Thanks for all the support.
The game is far from over. Watch this space.
Friends and scribes… Warm Greetings!
The first installment of the Creatweet was actually a proof of concept. What my management, Gambit, Moore & Oxygen (an eclectic fount of strategy, copy-writing and art direction) sought to do was to see the extensibility of Literature over new platforms other than print. And boy! Did they get a kick out of the exercise?
Mechanics and bounties are being worked on for the 2nd and bigger installment. We gonna be making something!
All entries in this first installment would forever be part our story. You‘ve helped create a phenomenon and we are very grateful.
We are currently sweating it out – debates upon debates – on the winning entries. Yes, we had quite a number of very good and witty submissions and the winners would be announced on Monday, March 18, 2013.
Yeah. You read that right. W-I-N-N-E-R-S.
Till then… have a swell week. Creatweet is a continuum!
The Creatweet contest was created primarily to help discover how literature can be created/deployed within the perimeters of new media – to measure how creative we can get in 130 characters.
The demographic (18-22 years) and the price are to test the idea before scaling it up.
However, we have decided to bow to public sentiment on the demographic. The contest is now open to all. On the prize, believe us when we say the second installment of this contest will blow your mind.
Back to the task at hand – the #Creatweet contest begins NOW!
Let’s make magic! Thank you!
I was hanging out with some of my buddies and looking through For Days and A Night – I was being made fun of, critiqued and ridiculed at the stories. But I was also being complimented and praised.
But that’s not the point. Someone suddenly asked ‘what’s the shortest story you’ve ever read?’
We started mentioning stories and all sorts of things – we were laughing at all the different ridiculous things that we had read. And then we decided to challenge ourselves and write the shortest stories we could.
Below are some of the stories we came up with:
- She was my late girlfriend. Yet there she was, calling me fifteen years later, as alive as a point-and-kill fish before execution!
- “And how is my wife?” he nervously asked the doctor.
She said one word. He fainted.
- That they were about to die did not bother them in the least. That much I could tell from their smiles.
Long after we departed for our homes, I sat down and looked through those stories. And this crazy guy kept asking me ‘Seun, how far can this go?’
Then it occurred to me that sharing this would not be a bad idea. I’m constantly learning – and what better way to learn that to challenge myself and others to do push our art to the limit?
Here is what I came up with:
The #Creatweet ‘Contest’.
Nothing serious; just something to inspire, create fun and then give a little something for effort. Here we go:
Have fun and get rewarded while you’re at it!
Get on twitter, write a story or creative sentences in 130 characters or less, tag your work with the hashtag #creatweet and win N2000 airtime from any network of your choice!
‘Contest’ begins on Monday the 11th of March 2013 9:00am and ends on Tuesday the 12th of March 2013 9:00am.
Winners will be announced on Friday the 15th of March 12noon.
There are only three conditions:
Contestants should be between the ages 16 – 22 years
- Winner will be judged on use of English, punctuations and so on. Use of text speak automatically disqualifies an entry.
- Contest only open to Nigerian residents.
You can send as many entries as you like – the more you enter the more your chances of winning!
What are you waiting for?! Start tweeting!
Send all enquiries to email@example.com. Follow @seunodukoya