고정된 트윗
Dove
312 posts
Dove 리트윗함
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Dove 리트윗함
Dove 리트윗함
K!ll them an ask God for forgiveness he will understand, Don't let them k!ll you they will ask God for forgiveness.
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Dove 리트윗함
Some of the smartest guys I knew are now prisoners of drugs. Not because they were weak, but because a broken system left them unattended. Government talks about security but ignores the drug epidemic destroying young minds daily. If you’re addicted, please fight it now. Drugs don’t relax you, they delete your future. How do you address this?
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Dove 리트윗함
YCee opens up on his break from music, saying he stepped back to focus on personal growth, mental clarity, and restructuring his journey as an independent artist.
After years of pressure and industry changes, he says the pause helped him reset and come back stronger.
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Dove 리트윗함
Dove 리트윗함
@VisioEaseDigita Exactly. Peace starts with knowing what’s worth your energy.
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@UnfilteredNotez This is so real, thank you for sharing, if people could learn how to prioritize what actually deserves their energy, they will be living a more peaceful life
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Dove 리트윗함
Dove 리트윗함
THE HOUSE WITH BROKEN CLOCKS ⌚
{CONTINUATION FROM THE LAST EPISODE •••}
I told myself I’d never go back. That was a lie kids tell themselves to sleep at night.
Ten years later, I’m grown. I live two streets over now. Got a job, got bills, got a phone full of alarms that never stop ringing. But every time 4 :30 shows on my screen, my chest gets tight. Like the air gets thick again.
Last rainy season, the mango tree finally fell. City workers cleared the lot. The house was coming down next. They said it was “unsafe.” I knew better. It was just tired of holding all that time alone.
I went back the night before demolition. No dare this time. Just me and a candle.
The door still sighed open.
Everything was the same, but older. Dust thicker. Silence louder. The grandfather clock still said 3 :17. The kitchen clock, 11 :04. The tiny watch, 6 :52.
Then the wind blew through the broken shutters and every clock hand moved. Just once. A single click forward.
3 :17 became 3 :18.
11 :04 became 11 :05.
6 :52 became 6 :53.
They were starting again. Letting go of 4 :30, second by second.
I sat on the floor and waited. At 4 :29, the house held its breath. At 4 :30, nothing burned. No fire. No screaming. Just the sound of a woman’s voice, clear and close, like she was right beside me:
“Don’t be afraid of time, my love. Even broken things keep going.”
Then every clock in the house started ticking. Not in sync. Not perfectly. But ticking. Messy, stubborn, alive.
The next morning the bulldozers came. By noon, only rubble was left. But I took the tiny watch from the table. It’s on my wrist now. It loses three minutes a day. It stops when it wants.
Sometimes I wind it anyway. Because broken doesn’t mean finished.
And when it hits 4 :30, I don’t run anymore. I just listen.
Because that’s when I hear her say my name. Not in warning. In welcome home..
TO BE CONTINUED •••
Precious Corner ✨@PreshyCorner
THE HOUSE WITH BROKEN CLOCKS ⌚ Everyone in Benin City knew not to go past the mango tree on Akpakpava Road after dusk. That was where the house stood. Paint peeling, shutters crooked, and every single clock inside frozen at a different time. I was twelve when I dared my friends I’d spend one night there. They left me at the gate with a torch and a laugh. “Don’t get stuck,” Tunde said. The door wasn’t locked. It sighed open. Inside, time felt thick. A grandfather clock in the hallway read 3 :17. The kitchen wall clock: 11 :04. A tiny watch on a dusty table: 6 :52. None of them ticked. None of them were right. But the air smelled like fresh bread, like someone had just been there. I found photos everywhere. A woman laughing in the garden, a man fixing a bicycle, kids with missing teeth. All the clocks in the photos showed the same time: 4 :30. The exact moment, I’d learn later, when the house had caught fire thirty years ago. The family didn’t make it out. But the clocks did. They stopped the second the fire started, as if trying to hold that moment forever. At midnight my torch died. In the dark, the clocks started whispering. Not ticking. Whispering. Each one repeating the last thing someone said in that room. “Dinner’s ready.” “Tie your shoes.” “I love you.” 4 :30, over and over. I understood then. The house wasn’t haunted. It was just refusing to forget. Broken clocks, but a memory that still worked perfectly. I ran out before dawn. Never told anyone what I heard. But sometimes, when I pass that gate now, I swear I hear my name whispered from the kitchen clock. 11 :04. Right on time. What do you think the house would whisper if you stepped inside at 4 :30? TO BE CONTINUED •••
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Dove 리트윗함
Dove 리트윗함
Dove 리트윗함
Sometimes I just wish to explain everything have learned so far that will add value for to people life but I don't know where to start from ..what do you wish to know/ learn currently that will add value to your life?.
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Dove 리트윗함
No matter what sin you think you’ve committed, no matter what you think you’ve done and can’t be forgiven, please note that “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end, they are renewed every morning, great is his faithfulness” 😃📷
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Dove 리트윗함
Dove 리트윗함
Dove 리트윗함
Dove 리트윗함
Dove 리트윗함
If you could only use ONE ecosystem for the next 10 years—Apple, Samsung, or Google.
Which one are you choosing? 🎤👇🔥
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Dove 리트윗함
She wan come seduce me wey dey hungry and still thinking about my life 😩🥹
Nah once I run for my life ooo 😂
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