Let's go creative

Love is a scam,
And it's victims are fools
They know they have no mind of their own but still prefer to have this mess.
Love estranges blood and bone,
Render talkatives mute, and the restless calm

Romance is no different,
it is a thug
It sucks out good thought from geniuses,
Strong enough to tie your tongue and break the wall you spent eternity to build.
With one touch, it tickles the soul.
What a thug. A beautiful thug for the scammed.

Life? You're just a lie.
Why do you demand that live with this?
With what you've caused?
Live with the pain, hardship, regrets, depression, and the mistakes you've blessed us with.
Truth be told, life is the greatest scam.
And love is the blindfold.

©Pelumi

This is my heart n' my merry mood
Just sweet for me like my pizza food
Great at heart and so light in might
My bright Deborah with shining sight.

Jodekss 😘

Damn the devil and the 'datchi waifu'
Maker is watching, catching baffle
Pining prick[ing], shaking cursing
Branding bigly, angels be gnashing
Dolls for training, kids into playing
By throwing and kicking
Knocking and bathing
Tying and weaving
Hairs by styling,
same through weaving
Wearing some shining, dirty or faintly
Some suit/skirt in the body, black or really...
Plausibly white, or possibly pants
have come and comely, disgustingly as:
Plastic or rubber, or like light latex
Sex robot is not new, it has... been being
With the French, French manufacturer Domax
Imitating humans unlike, like those petty being
Through silicone being, branding breasts big/ly
Privy parts pretty poor, damn done lubrication sickly
Packed with fancy vibration, skins skinny without hairs
No with hairs exactly, exactly hair with no
Nature is sad in this, and thus speaking sadly gloating:
Of welded vinyl, you paid the $75,000 for
Blow up doll you've got, you're evil before for
What kids toy with with mud, but robot run errand
Your penis you have got into, inside without your rubber and
It vibrated you release, your pedophile rests yet?
You shag bunches of silicone glued, you'll never know peace, bet
Can you feed the doll, your richly champagne
Or bear it to a dance ball, lisping together your costly Nail Ale?
Could you convenience a toy to conceive your beauty face back. No!?
Now what are your complaints so?
Pedophilic desires right?
Why don't you shut your tight?
So ugly? Fine.
A man is never ugly, shine
The unelegant imitated shit that'd stink in sun
Nature's wraths cuddle your fancies very rough
I curse your course and present it natural cuss of the sun
May the rays of his on lick off your essence from the Don
And shame shall your makers make next, because this is evil
No goodness lies in darkness except to hide evil
What fame lies in fake's and fancies but more lies and evil!?
Sex robot is evil, and will increase immorality which is evil:
Rape rate race will gain increment in time(s) to come
Even without sex dolls, we already behave bare in big sum
Dolls belong to the kids, to play with only
Tho' robots are might serve morality, to ease
Science of evil has hyped 'em, that feel holy
This least trend makes me unhappy, but what 'bout tomorrow's biz?
©Jodekss 2018

IN THE FOREST

There were tall trees standing right close to one another with the guise of exchanging pleasant phatic manner stacked in and out and dense. The same carried green snows - seated on their serrated sides. The sky had these constructs, hiding away beneath stratus clouds in bits and bits, glimmering golden colour right from afar but it felt close to the polar bear (as they assumed) running his last across the thick misty forest, as the sun was going to go to set.

‘Follow it… do not dare miss its tracks.' He exclaimed, breathing heavily as they were running pacing through the white ground cuddled with breathing snow –white, the ground mixed with dirt began to shatter about hitting their fronts and backs against nought, against tree stems and barks, the bark of typical flora found on this tundra ground with lichens, mosses, and shrubs that grow close to the ground, and up to a few centimetres high. Swooshed the wind, mixed with the emission of white smokes billowing up… taking off the frosty plane which bore the rousing up of their fading effects as they regressed progressing into the atmosphere in light height.

Scattered were they, in the forest with looks so committed as they advanced calculatedly, cautiously in motion.

A few separated through to the north where the targeted meat ran in exactness. One of the others' hand was up signalling they had to move to the other side to create ambush for the chased meat as it might want to escape back through there. Emilio ran pacing fast forwards like a famished four-legged wild cat. Each of his feet against the earth; even the earth knew knew know-how. Even the faces of the earth again were busy paying them tribute as the son of the soil. The thudding of its feet and the spattering noise they gave made it bleat out loud with agony. Emilio ran past them that went to the south side chasing the tail of its cry and was with bow with three arrows loaded. Others paused; but he speeded past them having spattered snows on them... they all waited for him to return in the exactitude of blood of the meat dripping… painting the whiteness and the frosty earth into crimson red color - that is a 'bold' mark. He came back and it was dripping bravely; he dragged the big meat around the backs of the tall trees.

'Hey.... hey...hey...!' Said cheeringly by the rest hunters -- shifters -- hunters of polar bear in the Arctic forest.

The cheering for the mannerisms he displayed in the killing of the deer was extraordinary as none of them had seen one who is as swift and on target before in the Arctic as Emilio just did.

One of the elders drew closer to him, used his hands to rub his mane in with the gestures oozing praises as he said,

'Son, your father would be proud of you as you have grown well into what is unbelievable to us all.'

'Mm... Thank you father! But we all know how my father would feel about this achievement!' He said whimsically.

He sighed and looked right into his eyes, stretched his mouth backwards and gave him a pat right in the back encouraging him to try and bear through. He looked back at his visage and gave him reassurance he was trying to make him proud. The old man withdrew. Helped him by joining him in carrying the deer to the settlement. They walked down there in soft procession. Their feet kept shoveling the icy paths leaving by frosh tracks on them covering the old ones just imprinted by others.

Emilio's father wouldn't distinguish a deer from a moose or elk as he was the best shifter during his time, he preferred the hunting down and the eventual killing of polar bears for their shaggy skins. Any beast, big or of high respect he liked to kill, and he would always like to see people kill as well to hype his jealousy to do better if better beasts be. You killing any other thing other than any of those in the category of his egoistic psyche, you have done just naught. He later cut branches, strong branches along the ways to ease the carrying the deer. This though happen when they were close as they could roughly see signs of life from distance through lights put out which were strong to plausibly to scare away beasts wanting to wash their claws in man's blood.

On getting to the settlement, the little ones who were already waiting to see them arrive having stood right next to the glassy doors drew the attentions of the elders around they had arrived. They moved out one after the other. The kids shouted, in unison:

‘Yeh…Yeah, they killed something big.’ On over-hearing that, Emilio’s father stood immediately to observe the beast himself and the like of Barbara and the rest members of the Paranormal Dating Agency, even Wilder joined him as he was on his way to welcome the hunters back home. The meat was already on the snowy plank, slit, in the throat perfectly after being hit with three arrows which perfectly cut across its forehead which pierced out on the other side. Barbara loved (it) seeing something raw like that, those who could come out alongside the members of the firm stood in awe, most especially few of the them who have not seen a deer that big before in their lifetime.

‘Who killed it?’ Asked the chief.

One of the elders, who walked with Emilio, looked at him in the face as he looked disheartened right in his heart. He summoned up courage and spoke, truly, as he said, emphatically,

‘It took just the skill of your son, your only son, Emilio, to bring this meat down right there in the darkly forest one shot, three arrows on the same spot at its forehead.’

I am one of those who caught it grazing on icy pasture close to the frosted brook close to the path leading to the top of the hill, where dense forest hold in its care tall trees hard bark though. We thought we have lost it as we could not find it.' He explained. (Emilio’s father looked proud for a moment as he had just learnt that his only son acted he wanted to be a man for real for the first time) though, before the thought, he believed he would be able to survive on his own and left on another path, following the track of a polar bear which they assumed to be big (as reported by vigilantes). If at all it was later killed, it might even be the tallest and the biggest around yet. He continued,

'Besides, chief, your son portrayed some expertise today which I have not seen in a very long time. That kind of expertise which you only would be able to portray when you were a bit past him in currency.'

Barbara was already smiling for his son’s prowess, where she was. She was already beginning to like the stranger, the son.

‘Alright, you all have done well, but… but… but me no buts, to me, this is no beast, this is just like killing some goat next door and drawing it down over here for roasting. A beast would have to be related to dog or raccoon having shaggy hair, a very small tail, and flat feet,' said the chief unconcernedly and whimsically –he was referring to what he expected Emilio would one day be able to achieve on his own without anybody's assist. But Barbara couldn't take that; she would not take that… She came out right to the fore and spoke fast with smokes coming out of her mouth full of concernment.

‘What... why? This is something huge, this is, this is, this is something you do not see daily in the States but here, you down-toned the whole thing. That is clearly unfair. What kind of chief are you!?' She expressed bitterly.

The chief felt insulted: he looked at Wilder's face searching on it what that was all about, Wilder signalled him she would take care of the mess afterwards. Barbara continued,

'Emilio should come out, I would like to praise you in his stead.' She said, boldly. Chief, departed angrily.

She stole the show for real as mouths were opened in awe. None would dare speak like such of the chief even in his absence. Emilio stepped out. They looked at each other, and there was pause.

'Here I am. And who are you?' He enquired ‘Are…you…' she muttered and faced the rest hunters.

She asked, ‘for real, is that Emilio?' One of them nodded in agreement and she grinned for his gait alone killed it; in her head, he looked agile and smart with his glowing eyes and beautifully set mane. He liked her either, for her bravery and appreciation. At that moment, mixed feelings popped up from both parties but they both managed and smiled at each other...

To be continued...

Mistakes is simply nobody's fault
Tho' we reap the consequence as result
No man's perfect even the first man fall
And his seas of sons now shagging doll
Some slaughter some to make money and
God never seize His sun's yet on our land

You've never winked afore come and argue
If you'd never breathe before come and sue
if you haven't ate grease before and felt eased
All of us have sinned afore and once teased

Just now what I am to tell is true
I went and put my cooked sweet stew
On fire just to warm to eat my rice
I forgot as I am typing this poesy wise
And it got burnt badly as I forgot
It on fire and it is a big mistake I thought
I felt bad at myself in the fresh first place
But had to forgive myself in the last place
So should it be when mistakes are made
So should you accept him even with his AID

You've never winked afore come and argue
If you'd never breathe before come and sue
if you haven't ate grease before and felt eased
All of us have sinned afore and once teased

Call him back and hug his back
Don't let him go lest he had heart attack
At times doing right implies letting the wrong
Leave together in love dancing to your song

You've never winked afore come and argue
If you'd never breathe before come and sue
if you haven't ate grease before and felt eased
All of us have sinned afore and once teased.
©Jodekss '18

Almond, honey brown were his eyes.
So Charming it was perfect for royalty, so they named him Prince.
Those eyes could view whatever it wanted, but one.
For by that one, his heart will be won.
So, stepmother taught him to view all with a glance,
Because no one knew that one.

So, it happened one twilight on a tour with Gus
That he heard the click click of her slippers.
So loud that he almost believed his mind was her marble floor.
Stepmother's voice warned; "Do not stare"!
He replied,"Glancing is all I've lived for".
So his almond honey brown eyes glanced, he stared.
Before him; in glass slippers stood the one,
Alas, his heart was won.

He raced to the castle that evening, beseeching the King to throw a ball,
For he would do anything to see her in his hall.
So, for his sanity,"Le grand Duc, invite every maiden in town, there is a ball".
Fine wine flowed like never before for all.
All attended except one, that One.
Releasing himself from Drizella and Anastasia, he asked,"Where is she Gus?".
But stepmother replied;
"The child is poor, she doesn't want to lose her only possession; her glass slippers".

Oluwapelumi

HER HISTORY
That dawn had begun to open for daylight to come with all its lighting glories to channel the course of bliss on the paths of lives that be, city birds had chirped around with each of their serrated wing singing flapping in sounds and shattering the atmosphere into somewhat, picturesque bearing ultimate construct. The city streets had started to bear reddened look as busy legs thronged the faces of the tiled street looking busy as well, as they were approaching their destinations. She felt a bit paranoid and felt it clear in a-head having a real discursive engagement with Barbara as one of the agencies assets at the moment might help. She felt to shed light to the plausible misbelieves she was nurturing towards her right-hand staffer, the Assistant. Wilder was then around, she went oddly as she stabbed other necessaries like kill tasks and asked Barbara to accompany her to the nearest tea shop. She needed a privy atmosphere. I would want to tell you what you might not have heard from no one before about my Assistant. ‘Alright, why not call her by her real name now? Barbara inquired. Wilder pretended she didn't get that. They sat and they were attended to. She began to talk about her --engines passing by had already begun their noises-- the honking especially were intense so they prick ears. These activities nudged her up in bed. She dizzily opened her blue eyes turning glimmering red in reaction she had aversion for sound pollution, she muttered sickly ‘O God! For goodness sake uh!' She said and after an absurd pause, she yawned… she looked 4 foot and 11 in her bed. Someone knocked the door from outside. He knocked lightly at first, but because she was not responding when it was obvious she was in, he continued and knocked repeatedly, hard now. Albeit, he reduced the tempo before long. Her attention was later drawn; she stood as she parked her white hair cut into a bob. She turned to the right and then the left, reluctantly. She packed to the top right of her bed with her two pillow cases, the bed cover and the thick fluffy blanket. She held with her right hand feebly the header cap of her steel bed and helped her legs stand firmly by it. She sighed, her face began to be waspy --she was looking dazed and unstable. She wobbled towards the door to see who it was,
‘…and what do you want you there?' She asked dizzily.
She was close to the door at that very moment but was giving the gestured making signs with her right hand to her forehead, she would love knowing who it was. She guessed roughly who it could be. No forms of reply were given from the other side still. She moved a bit closer further to the tiny hole at the mid of the door to peep through. She loved it observative always.
‘What the heck! So it is… you? Why wouldn't you talk when I asked who it was?' She asked lousily. She closed the door immediately, against him and began to walk, firmly now, back to her bed. She changed her direction, with the intention to get close enough to the sill to see for herself what the Saturday morning looked like on the bigly busy street. Her head was fixing up then. She knew it was going to look busy as usual of cause but was just trying to engage herself in something to clear her head after very awry night rest again. In the same charge, suddenly, she got a nudge it would be the landlord who knocked, a man of few words, she rushed back to the door like the way sea billows pull back in motion. She opened the door and stepped outside. ‘Sorry, for being rude the other time, I honestly didn't... Really, I cannot say I remember what I said. I am just apologizing in case I spoke disrespectfully' she expressed, innocently.
‘Good!' he responded, calmly.
***
He was a man of few words. Gossips on the streets had it that he fought in the two great wars – the great World Wars (nobody knew how true and factual that was though the deep scars on his rough face sure had some story untold) but ever since then, after his arrival, he had seemingly chosen to be a man of few words in his dealings with the peoples in the community. But when he talked, he could do it just as an ordinary civilian would, some other people had seen him talk directly, even with his few words and the ground creaked opened with quakes and all that. Wilder had concluded right in her mind he was one man who was simply highly unpredictably. She looked deeply into his two weak eye balls. All she could read to them were lots of experiences about everything buried deep right in them which had most plausibly affected the way he'd respond and the ways he'd socialize.
He looked at her with no strong thoughts flooding up his mind. He though saw an arduous young material striving real hard to ace through in life in spite of the facts there lied many oddities on her path. This drew in some amounts of considerations and reconsiderations into his heart. In looks, he could be as clear as he could be as confusing. He had trained himself so well that no one would know or get when he was happy or sad for real. He never looked sad nor happy. He maintained, always, a rigid stance between two notions. The thought that he could do that with his face seemed scary.
He had come down to her to remind her apartment rent. But had just chosen to postpone that until next time he would be choosing to pass by or whenever he felt to pass by.
‘I have come, to check on you to see if you are good. You'd remember our agreements. But no worries just yet, I will get back to you soon,' he said whimsically, Barbara shut the door back as he turned back as the sound of his feet began to expire.
‘O…! Thanks. I have you right at the back of my… mind as well. I'll get to you before you know it,' she shouted with the intention he gets all her message. ‘Oops! Damn, that was close,' she exclaimed. She closed the door and walked back to sit in the lone seat in her room. And she began to think it through that they both know why he had come. But in exactness, the reason he had chosen not to utter a word about the money confused her so much. She was broke at the moment and thus could not afford the payment of the house rent yet. He was the landlord in charge of her place and had conversed with her over the phone two weeks prior he would be coming around just because her payment was past due time. At a time, a very light time, she had a quick flash of her mother's figure. That reminded her how she was so caring before she recollected her father –she had missed him very much but would not want to show that as one part of her felt like he did not merit any good feelings from her as he would not turn back to check on her. Her death had become her drive to be a scientist and to find a way around despite shades of challenges. Before the demise of her mother, her father was doing fine but after she popped the cog, he lost it alongside. He couldn't get himself together ever since then until the moment. She came back from the flashes to the reality abound.
She soliloquized that, ‘Oh God! What am I gonna do now… what if he returns in an hour's time? Then, I am doomed and done with. What alternative is left now huh, none...?" She expressed, rhetorically.
'I don't… I don't know when… He said ‘soon, ' and that could be just any moment, maybe tomorrow or next week. If he is going to show up next week, there is no way in this world I would have been able to get around such resource,' she expressed confusedly.
A lot came together to shape who we are and how people read meanings to us defining us in any community. She had always been that good and gentle girl in her own way who was astounding in brilliance and highly intellectual even right from childhood. But times are different now; it almost seemed all those valuable qualities were only rendering her ignobly as time just advanced, to her. Her mother'd gone, and her father'd lost it alive blaming himself for what happened to her mother –her dearly better-half. He had no time for her but spent much of his time and the little resources he has got on beers and sluts whenever he had good cash. They would let him have his way, and still steal the few dollars left in his pocket and pushed him to one side. Rain and darkly hands of the night would beat him until would collapse to one wall, and that would be his resting bed space until sanity would return, to run back to continue as he was a taxi driver for the circle to repeat itself.
All these had come together and were reshaping her in the same community, into one strict, determined and young lass with the hope of better tomorrow for herself, better than her old folks’.
***
Then as she was already twisting forwards her right leg making a 90˚ circling to begin on her path along the next to the one where she stayed was, just to instinctively look back, she who she saw was his father, who had been following her for hours. He did not know how to approach her and ask for forgiveness and to continue together as a family just once again in years of being in talking terms. ‘I knew it, what are you doing father –I am not sure even if you are one anymore to me! Are you stalking me? He moved closer to her and drew her to where she would not be able to make a scene. She wanted to scream but would at the same time not want to fetch the father who already looked tattered much more trouble to deal with. She was though sure he could not be in his right senses. It was surface enough even for anyone to know that he had beyond normalcy as looked like one who had been looking was out to get around redemption for ages.
‘Fuck you very much for that. Why would handle me like that? She said looking right into his face sadly and vexatiously. ‘I am still your father, whether you like it or not…' he said. That sank well reverberating in her brains. There was a prolonged pause as they were looking at each other right in the face. She began to blubber; they hugged as he muttered to her left ear ‘sorry.' ‘You have grown just to look exactly like her you know!?' She grinned in response to that. ‘So, why have you come, this hour…ffff…ff father?' ‘Yes, I have been keeping tabs on you; I have all the late to the most recent developments about you. I have helped you and settled your payment for house rent. I paid him last week's weekend, and that was why he would not pester you nor talk about it when he came visiting the other day. I never left you for once my darling angel, no matter what, I am around just as it used to be.' She began to sob again as that was shocking and least expected, she felt sorry for all the negatives resolves she had had for him right in her psych and mind. ‘I have something to give and tell you. Take this card; you would have the scholarship, I pray so and hope so when you are done with your academics, I am not sure if I would be able to make it till then. That is the reason why I am doing this now, as it is just this moment I have left. Alright, take this card, keep it with your life; give it to the addressee addressed on it alongside with this, he would understand make sure he employs you. She owes me her life. Do this dear daughter and be committed to your studies as you used to be way back when… Mm… I have got to go now. Your dad is still a cab driver as you'd known. He smiled and faded within the crowd before she could know it. It was like some sort day dreaming as she was dumbfounded. She continued on her way down to where she studied to continue to study as she would be tested before long.
Then, as she was going, she tried and imagined the other version of what had just happened twixt her father, Lenny and she herself:
‘Who's it, what's it uh…? And I responded as I turned backwards angrily. And he said he is Lenny. On seeing his face for real and disappointment roused up and befogged my mind and I begin to yell at him and continues by adding don't ever, call me or my name again. Let us say I said that boldly and determinedly as I look close at his arid nose like I meant it.
And he said, please, do not create a scene, my dear daughter… responding in a pathetic way. And I said I am not your daughter, please… And I squinted away and looked at the street and stops a cab closed by to take me away from the scene. And he muttered please, don't leave me, let us have a… and his voice began to fade as I closed and locked the door and instructed the driver to light it and leave on time.'
‘Oh, if it were so, it would have been so cruel of me. I am happy really I couldn't do that… I really missed him.' she soliloquized.
After a few years, she had already finished well as the best students among her colleagues at the college and the same thing after she proceeded to the varsity for higher degrees under the same discipline. Her meritorious excellence all through after weeks of finishing fetched her a job of good pay with Paranormal Dating Agency which happened to be one of the bests in the States and which happened to be the place her father directed her to go to; there she was recognized as one off their best scientists which is committedly helping them up. ‘She merited the job on two grounds, the first she merited it as she was excellent and she merited on the basis of favoritism as I, the General Manage, owed her father one. It was on several bases that made me to make fill should always act in my stead. And, evidently, it is what we all know, she is doing great. You would only complain she is not being that informal as you could be at times.’ They both smiled.
Her father and I got to know each other way back when she was just nobody striving for a jackpot in life and then built something related to what he loved doing the most. She was a scientist of high rank, she finished the best from Harvard in discipline. She was believed to have some medical panacea which was bio related and was kidnapped in the dead of one night. None was there, except for her father, he caught them did that and followed them, risked his life and gave me lib.

Toͦ beͤ cͨoͦntͭiͥnuͧeͤdͩ...

The Face of Btls (FOB) contest has began with about 10 contestants (eight female and two male) from various states of the country and Togo and Italy respectively. Here are our contestants
(1) Mbagu Valentine Chigozie, (2) Courage Preye Ominijei, (3) Favour Chidinma Obi, (4) Maryann Ezinne Opara, (5) Faith Anichris, (6) Miracle Imaku, (7) Grace Ogochukwu Udeh, (8) Michael Rogaroga, (9) Uwa Asemota, (10) Ejeke Oghenerabome. All votings are strictly via the Btls facebook page and on pictures of the contestants. Voting closes on 31 midnight as the winner/winners would be announced.

I am a black boy and not white. The colour of the horizon outside is virtually white and not black which would demand from me the presence of a lighting effect so that I might not stumble when I walk for instance. I wore a round neck on me, originally when I got the same, it was practically colour white; it is kind of old now as it is not as whitish as it was as at the moment of purchase. I am on a nylon-like trouser which is purely black and nothing more. The backpack in which I carried the laptop I am using to type this is mainly black, though with stripes white lines and waning red streaks to two sides. The system I am using to type this is DELL by brand and its whole programming, both the soft and the hard were all encased in black plastic in technical, systematic and precise shape. The font I am looking at on the system through which I am typing this is mainly white –the background I mean. These ordinarily from here is typed black using Baskerville Old on the basis of my preference.
Everything above is directly traced back to me, for without life there is no life of cause. Yes, without me, the lifelessness all these things bear equals naught and nothing more... But earnestly and ironically, you would only come to that resolve from a critical overview in relation to my personality and to your own personality as a beholder. Nothing this far that you have inferred from what you have read is about me in isolation. Everything could directly and indirectly be inferential to just anybody on the planet earth and/ or any phase of existence within and without our macrocosm. There is thus a Yoruba adage which holds that, “Nobody owns the world.” So that leaves us with no choice but to accept that nothing really ever exists in isolation. My Ultimatism holds that ‘at least only two things and at most infinite number of things can work together for one result literally and pragmatically, for good or for the otherwise’. On the basis of Ultimatism, it will be very ludicrous to discuss Black outside of White and vis-à-vis. White is like the morning while Black is like the night. Or what is the use of a beautiful body without a head or even what is the use of money without someone to disburse the same? The combination of the best and the beast gives what we can only refer to as a true beauty. The juxtaposition of perfection with imperfection cannot give us two natures be it different classes or whatever such as perfect imperfection, etc. it either equals to perfection or imperfection. Again, another bon-mot which encourages to desist authorship ethics attitudinally in relation to how we view life says that, “One person’s sagacity cannot suffice; knowledge of one person would cause a misfit.” In spite, Chin-Ning Chu in his book, “Thick Face, Black Heart” says alternatively that “The world has a tendency to accept our own judgment of ourselves…” And the reason Chu reasoned and said that was because you are either truthful or deceitful. Not only that but also because you and I are going to be responsible for what we say or do.
Now, I know you would be asking some questions such as what am I doing exactly, what am I trying to say exactly!? And where am I going now!? Alright, if that is the case, when you are asked a question, if the question is not clear or for emphasis, no matter how astounding your IQ is, if you react to the question with a question, for the sake of clarity, it is no sin under any circumstance. Whether you are inquisitive or not, at the end of everything, with few real life quintessence of mine, all the questions asked and not asked would be answered articulately.
What is Black? Black is anything that is not White or any other colours yes? Or Black is anything evil and not good right? Black is anything that brings about gloominess and not lightness for real? Black is anything that could be referred to as the source of everything good or evil ehn? Or is it Black that is the second notion that came into being right after White? There could be no end as to how one could define anything as long as one can reason with one’s head. To have the understanding of what I  would want Black to be, I would urge you to empty your cup to have a full one. Act you are just coming cross this signification I have referred to as Black. Try to act you know no signifier of what Black could refer to. Don’t see it as the opposite of white or being in oppositeness of any other thing. And according to Chu’s stance, you can hold me responsible for my hypothesis even though it has been written under the guise of my pseudonym.  And you could as well make good of the same as integration and reintegration are the true benefits of any study learnt or acquired. By now, haven done as asked, you would see the term Black is not something and is not nothing, it thus looks like it is everything or anything. It looks like not what I, you or anybody can describe. And as to prescription, it would be very implausible to prescribe well what you cannot describe. Let me from this moment on assume myself under the same tasks which I have implored you to remain for a while. I’ll pretend I am a baby just being born just now as well, whose umbilical cord has just been cut and clipped properly and whose frosh body has just been washed for the first time. And if someone wary came to me and spoke the word ‘Black’ into my ears and wrote it big ‘BLACK’ on a big paper and showed it to my face to read. Examine yourself again under the same position as I am, how would we feel? What would we say? What would we do? We would both not react in particular to the question or what the questioner wants to hear from us and the person would under normal circumstance be disappointed or would have to retreat. Black is nothing in relation to everything about life. And it is only that ‘nothing’ only when Chu’s own theory of Thick Face has been successfully achieved by one and Black Heart as well. In Chu’s book, “When you conceal your will from others, that is thick. When you impose your will on others, that is black.”  --Lee Zhong Wu, P.7. To conceal in alignment to my hypothesis, is to switch to a naught state to whatever is happening with and/ or around you necessarily if it might hamper you from any form of advancement. To impose sequels as it is the release from the concealing state, to act and react when the blighting winds of concealing had ran past.
Black without taking concealing into practice I term anything deterring progression. Nobody loves it on a spot. Naturally, everything that has life in them loves to grow and they do ordinarily. When there is an error in that then there is conundrum in the matter, the conundrum in the matter is the Black and only two steps I have posited to overcoming that are TO CONCEAL and TO IMPOSE (to overcome challenges). Both are actions but one takes much time than the other. To begin anything in life, ordinarily is hard while narrowing the whole thing down/up in progression into completion, it is harder. Thus, the hardest is To Impose and not To Conceal. To Conceal gives you the liberty to remain still with your own thoughts intact unrevealed. But To Impose, takes you bringing them out. Thus needing tactfulness. One good instance is when I was mocked going to study in varsity will never be plausible.  I Concealed and I Imposed later. I in fact went and am almost done. The mockery is Black. Another one is one old nightmare I had struggling among dark forces, whenever the flash of the nightmare occurs, I conceal within within a matter of sec. and impose with prayer (as a believer) and outpour of positivity. There are cases of peoples in the world today who could not manage well their Black moments, they are suffering the consequences of not having the chance to while countless have died and are dying due to that. Dreams unachieved due to bulwarks and experiences they are not able to surmount due to their inability to conceal and impose. Thus, Black Hypothesis is a hypothesis against Black and every connotative implication it might have for positive growth and development in all ramifications if practiced.

©Jodekss '18