How To Get Your Heart Broken And Mended In One Hour

SOUBDTRACK: Try Sleeping With A Broken Heart – Alicia Keys


 

With the ever-evolving status of our computer age world, scientists, technologists and artists alike are coming up with shiny new inventions that most of us would just love to try out. Portable submarines shaped like Dolphins, games that arouse all your five senses and Oreo-doughnut recipes are just few of these inventions. Hold your horses though. If you’re one of the ninety nine percent ‘not-so-rich’ people of this beautiful world, you must have realized that the reason you haven’t tried any of these things is either because you’re poor or YOU’RE WASTING YOUR TIME READING BLOGS ON WORDPRESS. But I’ve come up with a list of things that we can all do that require no cash at all. And first on the list is how to get your cardiovascular pumping organ A.K.A HEARTROCK broken and re-mended in just one hour.

 

1. Have a stable internet connection. Duh!

 

Did I say no cash at all? I meant have no cash at all but also have unlimited data and strong internet connection. Its obvious that doing most things now require internet connections; checking the weather, checking your internet connection, checking your calories, checking what’s up in Lagos by using Satellite mode on Maps even though there’s no street view (Its not snooping. Its VIGILANCE)

 

2. Pick your choice of dating apps.

 

Tindr. Grindr. Ok Cupid. WeChat. Badoo. KFC. Coldstone. TFC.

 

These are all different types of dating apps (Okay, maybe the last three were restaurants, but I can help it, the Food Channel is on). Pick anyone of the dating apps you like. Be advised though that some of the above listed apps are sexuality-based so if you’re heterophobic or more likely, homophobic, please check the app details before you download, sign up and end up with a bunch of guys in leotards.

 

3. Sign Up. And More Importantly, BE BRUTALLY DISHONEST.

 

This shouldn’t be on the list. But some people A.K.A morons need a step by step list or they get lost after they download the app because they don’t know how to click on the app. Everyone should know that when you sign up for an online profile, you use the picture of Tyson Beckford to catfish people. Now for this exercise to work, you have to be brutally dishonest when you sign up. That means a seeing-the-rainbow-after-the-storm or seeing-the-silver-lining situation. So enter your user name or nickname or nick depending on the app (May I suggest some; @NotSoSexyBootyliciousTwister @TheFatManWalking, @ExtraCurvyFries, @GooglyEyesForBieber) . Next is your age; remember be honest so enter your real age and get on with it (The Prime Age is 25). Now the most important thing is to do is to know how to correctly answer the other details; some apps have boxes for body types and since we’re all part of the ninety-nine percent, let’s go on ahead and enter ‘Stocky’ because Allah knows we’re far from abs and all. Fill in the other required spaces and continue. And finally, don’t upload your full picture. Take a picture of your face from a good angle (if you have one), try to blur your triple chins out.

 

4. Morph into an IT person.

 

In case you don’t know, IT stands for Internet Troll. Don’t act so surprised, you know you have more that one facebook profile. Now, an Internet Troll is someone who randomly picks people he/she/it thinks they might like and sends them ‘Greeting-Oriented-Messages’; these messages differ as they contain words that reply to the person’s rhetorical status. For example;

 

JohnMark Zucchiniberg Status : Biceps are overrated.

IT’s GMO : Yeah. I think Biceps are overrated too. So are bicycles, bisexuals, bicorns and biplanes. The world should start focusing on triceps and tricycles more. πŸ˜‰

 

OR

 

Killian Bikedarshian Status : Hit Me UP For A Chat

IT’s GMO : Kapow. Gbam. Boom. Krash. Punch. Punch. Slap. Hey.

 

Basically. Just reply to

 

5. Wait For The One That Will Break Your Heart to reply to your text.

 

There’s always one person who’ll think your GMO’s are funny and witty. The one that ‘Lol’s’ a lot to your words, that’s the One.

 

6. Spend The Next Thirty Minutes Texting The One And Get Then Catch Emotions And Get Attached.

 

This is where the magic happens. Now, You text and open up your heart to the person. You tell her/him about yourself and they ‘Lol’ a lot and they tell you about themselves a lot. You tell that you once spat into your Dad’s water and that it was you who broke the Principal’s louvre in High School even though they punished the whole school for it. They tell you that you’re weird and they like your weirdness. And even though its only been thirty minues, you’ll be sure you’ve found the one you want to spend the rest of your life with.

 

7. Reveal To The One Your Trueself Because You Believe That Your Thirty-Minute Relationship With Them Can Withstand Anything.

 

This step is not as hard as it seems. There’s a simply way to go about it. Simply say, “There’s something I need to tell you, I’m not really stocky, I’m a bit overweight (By a bit you know you mean a lot)”; or say “Actually, that’s not my picture” and then send them a picture of you in your pyjamas with nutella dribbling down your chinny chin chins.

 

8. GET YOUR HEART BROKEN.

 

After you reveal yourself to them, there will certainly be a short period where the person will go offline to collect his/her thoughts, there will be a small pause in the conversation and this suspense, well, it will choke you up from the inside. But don’t fear (Actually, Fear. Fear a lot because you’re just about to fall into a histrionic feat of getting your heart broken), there are only two things that will happen;

 

A. They’ll say “It doesn’t matter. We’re not fucking or anything. Its not a problem, I don’t judge and I have a lot chubby friends”. Now this might seem like a normal thing to say but its like saying, “It doesn’t matter. We’re not going to be seen together. Its not a problem, I have a lot of black friends and I don’t mind”. See how I related a completely unrelatable event to racism? Its a talent only Black people have.

 

Or

 

B. You get blocked. What did you think? They’ll say “I love you for who you are but I have a boyfriend so wait till we break up”?

 

7. Re-Mend Your Heart Now That’s Its Broken.

 

If they don’t like me for who I am, that’s their problem.

 

I’m beautiful the way I am.

 

Allah makes no mistakes.

 

Its their loss, not mine.

 

Now I’m potatoes, no one wants me, one day I’ll be Fries and then everyone will want me.

 

What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger ( Except Alzheimer’s, Dementia, Too Much Chocolate Cake)

 

Above, are all the lies that you’ll tell yourself so that your Humpty Dumpty heart can pick itself up back again and beat.

Also. Watch reruns of your favorite shows (Family Guy, Hart Of Dixie, Grey’s Anatomy, All those porno vids you have hidden away in the folders of your files) with chocolate cake, a bag of chips, chocolate and Ice-cream (Don’t worry. You’ll lose the weight someday. Just push of eating healthier for another day. Right now, your body needs its comfort food so that your fat can keep you warm at night instead of the arms of someone that loves you. What’s one more box of Oreos? What’s one more tub of Coffee Fudge? )

 

 

If you’ve followed these steps carefully, you’ll find that you’ve gained a new exciting insight and experience and you’ve hardly spent any cash. And the best part of it all, you can keep doing it, over and over and over again, it will never get old.

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What Has 365 Days And Ends In A Few Hours ?

In case you’re one of those people still racking their brains on the answer to the above question, there are two things you should all know:
1. You have a serious mental deficit. Really. I’m not joking. There’s something seriously wrong with you. 
2. The answer is “a new year”. 
I mean if you can’t answer the question above, how are you supposed to answer all the other more difficult and more complex riddles. Like “Why are the raven and the writing table alike?” Or “What has two thumbs and is sleeping into the new year?”
So, as we all should know now, the new year is fast approaching and it will soon be that time when we have a lot of crossed out 2016’s in our note pads because we forgot that 2017 murdered 2016 (Its true what they say. You reap what you sow, courtesy of KARMA – running the YearChangeSystem since 1BC). And in West Africa, New Year brings with it a lot of programmes and events that help guide the citizens into the new year. If you look out your window, there are posters; from churches; and bars; and event centres; all promising a “POWER PACKED” service or time. Times like this are when you should be afraid to go out because there are people out there patiently waiting to mug you; I mean they’re not going to steal from you or anything, instead, they’ll give you a gift (Well, bulletins and bills aren’t really gifts but shouldn’t we all appreciate the liveliness of paper?) and they’ll not be taking “No, Thank you” for an answer (But you can still try the ususal excuses of – I’m not Christian- I no speak English – Or simply concede and accept it). The sad thing is, the bars and event centres don’t go around handing people free shots and cupcakes (Do they? If they do, please tell me so I can move) and I personally think it would be a big help in drawing in customers.
So here’s my new years gift to you all. I’ll be giving you the pros and cons of where you spend your crossover night.
In Church

Pros – You get to pray your way into 2017 (Some of you need this. Apparently, somepeople carry around spirits that they should leave behind in 2016 , the man on the pulpit at my church said this)

          – You’re around loving and overly-happy people when you shout “Happy New Year”

          – You’re with God’s people and His Spirit (God is everywhere, not only in church) when you cross over
Cons – You’re surrounded by overly excited people (This is not a good thing. Learn why in the next point)

            – You’re harrased when its time to say “Happy New Year”. (You think I’m kidding? Church people resort to all forms of harrasment when they’re happy: Forceful shaking, hugging(ugh), kissing on cheeks etc) All these are apparently forms of showing love. And sharing germs too.

             – You’ll definitely miss the countdown because you’ll be “praying your way into 2017”. That’s the point.

            – Its almost impossible to call your loved ones because everyone else will want to do the same.
In A Pub/Bar/Hotel Lounge/WhereverTheyServeDrinks

Pros – Drinks.

          – Food

          – Alcohol. Meaning drinks also.

          – The entertainment is on the top. These include comedians, musicians, (what else, that’s all I think they do).

          – Have I said drinks?
Cons – There is only truly one con. And its the hangover after. Or the regret when you remember what you did. Or didn’t do.

So there you have it. 
Alternatively, you could be like me and stay home and do whatever you want. 
Happy New Year. And below are the things I’ll be doing while y’all are getting drunk, filled with the Holy Spirit etc.
I will be;

-Listening to Ella Eyre’s “Feline”. Download here

-Reading an e-reader filled with James Patterson’s Bookshots. Check them out here.
– And Eating (Of course), an elaborate Chocolate Cake I’m about to go bake. Get yours here. (Just kidding. Bake your own.)
Happy New Year In Advance. 

It Takes More Than A Village

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If you’re African, you’ve probably heard a lot of paradoxical proverbs like, “The Palace That Burns, Calls For More Beauty” or “A Child Looks Forward When He Stumbles But An Adult Looks Back”. If you’re not African, you’ve probably heard some good proverbs or idioms like “Make Hay While The Sun Shines” or “You Can Force A Horse To The Stream, But You Cannot Force The Horse To Drink” from your parents or some nosy elderly person that has helped shaped your life in one way or the other.
I was at the ATM (Yes, It seems I go to the Teller Machine A Lot; West Africa Is Not Cash less yet) the other day with my one-year old godson, King (Nope. Not King Cairo or King David. Just King) and that meant I couldn’t use my ear piece to push people away. In fact, people seemed to feel the need to talk to the tall dude who is carrying that adorable baby (Never take a baby to a public place. People will talk to you). So I was at the ATM and of course there was a 5-mile long queue and that meant there were all sorts of people on the line; Fat people, Thin people, Muscular people, Short people, Midgets (Or Babies depending on how you look at it, Giants, Nosy People, People with ear pieces on (Whom I hated because I envied them), Old senile people etc. So I’m on the line waiting for my turn (I was behind twenty-five people) and juggling my godson from one hand to another while he keeps tapping the shiny reflective head of the short bald man that stands in front of us (He did not mind. And he said “You fine pass your Papa”) and a red Highlander comes in and parks besides the queue and out comes a man and he rolls down the windows and comes to stand in the line. In the car are two little boys with skin like the sun and they’re both smiling and poking their heads out of the window. 

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I’m now behind twelve people and a lot has happened since twelve other people have exploited the machine. The two boys in the car began to shout about how thirsty they were and their Dad had to buy them water; then they gave the water to an old man and then asked for the water back. Then they said they wanted to get down from the car but he said “NO”. Then chaos ensued. Because every pokenoser on the line began to ask the Dad why he didn’t want his kids to get down.
Overprotective African Dad : Its not safe for them to come down.
Pokenoser1: Safe ke? Oga, nobody is safe oh.
Pokenoser2: Abi. You better let them come down. They are African. Let them feel the sand beneath their feet and the sun on their face.
OAD: They will be running around. I don’t want them to come down.
Pokenoser1: They are children. They are supposed to run around. See, there are even other children they can mix with.
OAD: They mix with people. They go to school.
Me (Yes, my sarcasm got the better of me): We’ve all gone to school oga.
Pokenoser1: Let them come down na. Let them enjoy the sun.
OAD: They are allergic to the sun. (True to God he said this)
Me: (snorts really loud)
Pokenoser2: Shuuuooo. Allergic to sun ke? Are they not African? Bring them down joor let us help you teach them how not to be allergic to the sun. 
OAD: Thank you. I know how to raise my own children.
Pokenoser1: Oga nobody is telling you how to raise your children.
Pokenoser2: It takes two people to give birth to a child. But it takes a whole village to raise one.
Above is a little bit of the things that parents do in the views of them shielding their children from the hard world. There’s a lot worse than this out there because some parents are now acting like poverty doesn’t exist anymore; they act like their children will break apart if they view a little bit of the problems they may face when they grow up. I don’t want to be prejudiced and I know they are dangerous things out there with kidnappers running around and terrorism being in vogue, but I think kids need to understand that these things happen and that not everything is green and rosy(I know its red and rosy but is money red? No. Money is green so its green and rosy for me).

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Now, I’ve grown up hearing it takes a whole village or sometimes a whole street to raise a kid. “Village” in this context doesn’t necessarily mean a place with round red mud houses with thatch roofs, it could mean the extended family or in Africa, every other parent on the block; every shop owner that you send your kids to; even Dipo, Tomu and Hakeem who have menial jobs have something to teach the kids. As a parent, you just have to accept that you can’t teach your kids everything and the “Village” or the “ATM queue” will teach your kids things they would have never learned sitting in the car; the shop owners will teach them management skills; the old women will tell them parables; the old men will tell them not to drink and then show them ways to drink and not get caught; people like me will teach them how not to care; and the men drinking peppersoup will teach them to know which girls to pick up and how (A skill that we lack). 
Its a hard life out here and protecting your kids from it won’t do them any good. So while you buy presents and shove them under the plastic Christmas trees (Do we do this in West Africa? I mean all I used to get were clothes and shoes and those colorful plastic glasses to wear to church and even then I’d still be feeling like a big boy), remember to teach your children the value of money and the value of life. Because if you don’t do it now, if they don’t hear it from someone who loves them this early, someone else (Life and Karma most especially) will teach it to them.

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Warning : Cartoons May Induce Demon Possessions.Β 

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Powerpuff Girls. Ben 10. Foster’s Home For Imaginary Friends. Code Lyoko. Biker Mice Of Mars. Silver Hawks. 
These are few of the cartoons that I grew up watching.
Naruto Shippuden. Bleach.  Spongebob Squarepants. Family Guy. American Dad. 
These are some of the cartoons that are currently on my playlist and I’m enjoying every single one of them; except maybe SpongeBob( SpongeBob’s happiness keeps overshadowing Squidward’s gloom and its just not fair). Now some people think that as an adult and as a man, I should be watching football with my friends at bars and shouting “Barman!!! Bring another bottle abeg” and getting into arguments on whether Arsenal was better than Manchester United or if Messi’s ratings are higher than Ronaldo’s, but honestly, football/soccer bores the crap outta me. Just like how some people don’t understand that Water Release and Earth Release make Wood Release or that the coolest zanpakutos by far is still belong to Kyouraku, Ukitake and Urahara or that Peter Griffin should be President someday, I also don’t understand why grown men would want to get out in the sun and run around in the dirt kicking around a sphere; I mean what’s the point here? Why does the sphere go into the net? Why is it that only the keeper can use his hands (In Quidditch, the Keeper, the Chasers and the Seekers can use their hands.) Why do they keep piling up on each other after the ball goes in the sphere? Is that part of the game? 

I can watch cartoons and not fall asleep because my brain is actually learning something but when football is on, the thing in my skull doesn’t even make an effort; it just hits the green snooze button that it keeps for special occasions like Night Vigils and Math Classes.
So I don’t know a lot about football. But I do know almost everything about cartoons even though I didn’t discover the magic of animation till I was eleven (Yes! My parents are magicians. They actually managed to keep the fact that cartoons existed from me for eleven years.) I know that cartoons help in brain development; I know they help enhance imagination and creativity. I also know that there are negative effects to watching cartoons but remember that everything has negative effects (Even Drinking Water).

So why the sudden interests in cartoons you ask?
Well, I started today watching Alice In Wonderland and its sequel Through The Looking Glass and I kept coming back to the funny scenes of the Queen Of Hearts and Cheshire and I decided to get wallpapers of said characters on my phone. So I’m on the queue at the ATM and I bring out my phone to play music when I realize that I had left my earplugs at home and thus was in risk of FWIL-ling (Fraternization/Friendly-Talks While In Line). I’m one of those people who can’t stand small talks and routine pleasantries; you know, that guy who just smiles when you get to the ATM and ask, “Sorry, are you last on the line?”; so I always carry earplugs around and sometimes pretend to listen to music just so people don’t include me in discussions when it turns out one of the people currently at the machine has four cards and plans to use them all, when they all start saying “Oga! No be only you here o. No collect all our money go”. So I didn’t have my phone so instead I admired Cheshire’s smile on the wallpaper of my phone (You try coming up with different ways to avoid communication at an ATM queue). So there I was minding my own business and wondering if it would be too much to ask God for a Joker smile like Cheshire’s and then the lady behind me says, “Mhhmn. May God help us. Shee na devil person draw like this?”. 
I ignored her. Sometimes, if you ignore people when they ask a question, a West African especially, they get angry and leave you alone. But this time, the lady didn’t get it. Because she tapped me and asked, “Bros, na devil person draw like this” and so I had to turn back and say “No. Its not a devil, its a cat” (ATM queue’s are one of the places I never speak pidgin. You never know who’s waiting in line). 
The Lady :This one be cat? This one no be cat o. Na devil. They just draw am like cat.
Yours Exasperatedly : No its just a cartoon. Its not devil.
The Annoying Lady : I know na. Na why I say na devil. All these cartoon whey dem dey snow, you know know say na devil?.
Yours Exasperatedly : Yes. I know. That’s why I’m watching it.
Other Annoying Woman Who Butts In : They even said that all these cartoons are the way the devil used to catch little children. If you see all the rubbish whey dem dey do for cartoon now. All those demons whey dey, wetin dem dey call that cartoon, Ben 10, na the instruments the devil dey use catch small small pikin.
Yours Exasperatedly just looks away because at this point he’s about to tell the women to shut it. 
So if you didn’t get what happened in the above conversation, here’s a very short summary; The two women are stating that cartoons are the devils instruments to catch little kids.  
Like I said, everything that has advantages has disadvantages and I don’t want to go into the spirituality of animations and stuff, all I know is that watching family guy doesn’t make me levitate (Actually it does make me levitate, especially when Peter tries to lose weight). West Africans, especially the religious ones have been known to blow things out of proportions and resort to unconventional and jungle means in solving them. A few months ago, word spread round Nigerian churches that parents shouldn’t allow their children watch Nickelodeon because they are now showing gay characters on the animated show, The LoudHouse; this is only partly true, Lincoln’s goofy friend Clyde has two dads and they’ve only been shown in one episode for 3.5 seconds and they have been mentioned in less than five of the episodes; so you see what I mean on blowing out of proportion.

Anyway, everyone has a way of raising their kids. All I believe is that its good for kids to watch cartoons; it really helps in language skills. You don’t want to end up with a child that says, “Him is inside” or “Him is coming”. Its your kid and you should train them the way you want but I don’t think letting them watch a little bit of Dora will make them agents of the devil (But it might teach them a bit on crossing borders illegally), I mean, I watched cartoons and I’m not running around with horns under my hair (Though I think Family Guy and horror films are entertaining and comedic so there’s something to think about). Would you let your kids watch cartoons? Or would you shriek every time the pirate on the TV asks “Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?”

Keep Your Claustrophobia To Yourself

​Are you Christian? 

?
If Yes, how’s the ushering service in your Church?
Are the stationary human pointers nice or grumpy? Do they stand and point out the available seats to you and let you pick your choice? Do they grab you by the arm, smile, say “Welcome” and stuff you into the nearest available seat or If you’ve been to a church like mine, do they make you wonder if you’re in a Church or a Training School; do they frown, gesture to a seat and yell “Sit!!!”?
Its not a secret that I do not like Sundays. Not only because I have to spend five hours listening to someone else’s explanation of different chapters of the Bible but also because it means Monday is almost here and more importantly because the people there are so nice and all smiling; call me sadist but happy people throw me off. Church people are mostly helpful, always welcoming neighbors, sharing booklets and baring their stained teeth for all to see. The Pastors are cheerful, sharing miracles and delivering people and the Congregation even more because they’re coming to receive miracles and giving testimonies, the Choristers are all about standing and singing ajasa versions of already known songs. In fact, the only people who are not friendly in churches are the Ushers and I can confidently say that because I’ve been to more churches than my current Data balance(210.36mb).
This Sunday marked my second time in a certain Mountain Of Fire Church in Abuja, Nigeria and if you’ve ever been to a MFM church or if you’ve ever heard of them, the Church is all about spiritual fire and rigorous body movement so much so that I believe that speaking in tongues in this Church is more routine than spiritual. And the Church is beautiful and its got Air-conditioning (If you’re asking how this is relevant, you obviously don’t know about the Sunday Sun of Abuja) which is one of the reasons I attend. So I walk in and the Ushers are already stationed there wearing white shirts and pink bottoms ( Yes. Even the guys. They mostly pulled it off) and they’re pointing me to the back of the Church and I’m thinking “Oh. Thank you Jesus” because sitting in the front means you’re in direct view of the Pastors healing saliva when they’re doing deliverance and I would like to keep my demons(if I have any) in. So a male Usher brings me to a roll in the middle at the back and I put my Bible on the side seat. Apparently, he wasn’t happy with this because he told me to move. I said “Move where” and the guy simply points to the next seat meaning I had to move inside. Now I think you should know that I’m not a friendly person; I don’t like smiling and I don’t like meeting people; my people say I’m anti-social but I socialize, I just do it with my phone; so I’m looking at this Usher who keeps gesturing and pointing at the next seat. I patiently take my time to explain to the Usher that I’m too tall to seat in the middle and that it’d be a tight fit but he just kept grunting “Move”. So the both of us are standing and arguing while the man on the pulpit is shouting, “Strong men of my father’s house, what are you waiting for? Die, Die…” and by this point I’m sure this man doesn’t understand what I’m talking about so I turn away from him and try to join in the prayers but I keep hearing “Move. I say move now !!!”. 

I contemplate on telling this guy that I’m claustrophobic but then I remember that we’re in West Africa, the region where mental disorders and phobias are almost ignored and besides, I was in a MFM church; just imagine the outcome of me telling them that I had a phobia, I would have probably been dragged out and doused with Goya oil to purge me of the phobia demon that was hiding within the confines of my skin. I turn around to see that this very short Usher has carried my Bible and dropped it on the other seat and was even ushering another person to the seat my butt was going to occupy. At this point, I was already pissed; people were beginning to stare and not at how sharp the gators of my ankara were but at the battle of seats between David(the Usher) and Goliath (me; wait, how did I end up being the bad guy?). Now, being a “shareful”(wordplay on cheerful and share) person who likes to teach people lessons and give them “Now Bitch” talks, I picked up my Bible and pointed it at the Ushers face and said “Nigga, I’mma -“.
Nope. I didn’t omit anything. I only got as far as that. And no, I didn’t get a beat down or get delivered or told-off. The Usher was rescued by another pink bottomed one who came to apologize to me and offered me a side seat further back and besides a very very grumpy man who told me I looked like I was about to butcher the Usher (which of course I would never have done. I was just going to hand him a few poison-laced pointers on Ushering Etiquette) and that all the Usher probably thought I was one of those trouble makers which made me think of how prejudiced people could be when they see a six foot five guy who frowns all the time and had bushy hair.
So all in all, I got through another Sunday with my demons still in and without telling another person off. And if I learnt  anything new, its that Ushers are now amongst the list of people who are on the quest for power and authority and I know how it must be to guide people and have them not listen to you sometimes, but that’s what you signed up for; you’re meant to guide and not force; its a Church and not a Training School and learn to understand that some people don’t like sitting in the middle of two people. And its not because those people’s elbows might touch yours, or that you’d be trapped between two people if the Church were to collapse, or that you’d have to say “Excuse me” if you are one of those people who have to go potty every five minutes or that your bodies would jam into each other everytime you were breaking evil yokes and walking into new glories or that it’d be almost impossible to look at memes while the Pastors were preaching because one of those people would always seem to have advice, its because some people just can’t stand enclosed spaces, its because some of us can’t keep our claustrophobia to ourselves.