Perfume: The difference between perfume, body spray and mist

Hello my beautifully scented people 😌
trust you’re having a great day.
yeah so, today I’ll like to go straight to the point so that atleast you could have a 30 seconds to a minute read.
today I’m going to be talking about the difference between perfume, body spray and mist. This is actually the most frequently asked question on my list.
so here we go.
The main difference between a body spray and a perfume is basically the ratio of concentrated oil to water and alcohol.
so we actually looking at the level of water, oil and alcohol.
now, body sprays have a lower level of concentrated oil and more alcohol, while perfume in various forms have a higher level of oil and less water or alcohol.
You know the oil is what really sustains the scent; so when there’s high level of oil it actually means the fragrance will last for a longer period of time unlike when there’s little oil.
so yeah, body spray smell nice but it will relatively last for some minutes but perfume will actually last for hours.
So if you are the type that likes body spray, you should consider getting a pocket friendly one to retain your scent from time to time

Now, let’s talk about body mist
body mist is a light, soft version of a fragrance that is often feminine with fruity, floral notes. They are very similar to a body spray because they contain a higher level of alcohol and water with a low level of concentrated oils.
I can bet that almost all the body mist you know have this fruity or flowery kind of scent. Although mist is quite similar to body spray, it actually last longer especially when you buy the original ones, and you know, I don’t sell fake things, lol.
So, that’s all for today, hope it didn’t take time🤭
Tomorrow I’ll be talking about how to know perfume that last long.
if you like this update, click on like, you can share if you want😌.

Perfume: what you need to know

Hello my beautifully scented people, yeah of course you know it’s one thing to be beautiful and it’s another to have a nice scent but it’s a whole different thing to be beautifully scented. Have you passed by someone and felt an irresistible urge to compliment how he/she smells?
I’ve been in that kind of situation; I entered a public transport one evening on my way home, the bus was quite congested because you know, it’s supposed to be four people on a row but what happens when two people on that same row are unbelievably fat, and bus conductor doesn’t care; they must carry that same number of people…hmm it was funny especially when one had to not only deal with being tight but also the smell of sweats oozing from different direction. Just as the bus was about to move, this young guy in his early 20s entered, the first that caught my attention was this unique scent that followed him, I was like ‘wow! ‘ I just didn’t want to stop breathing😅 I’m usually a shy type especially when approached by an opposite sex but I threw the shyness in the bin, managed to saw ‘excuse me’ and when he turned to me, I smiled so foolishly before complimenting his scent. Sure most people don’t like telling the name of their perf, they’d rather say,
“I can’t remember the name, I threw away the pack”,
you know yourself, yes you do it a lot.
I’ve also been in a situation where I was just on my way to class one hot afternoon when I suddenly got hold of a nice scent, you wouldn’t believe what I did; I just stood still, shut my eyes and inhaled this scent with a gushing smile, I bet those passing by would probably think I’m not in my right senses. beta scent dey always totori my body.😂

So now, let’s talk about the big deal, yes the big deal… *lol*
*clears throat* As you guys know, I sell perfumes, in case you don’t know please take note now cos I’ve had friends who said they don’t know I sell perfumes and I’m like “eh, enipe!”
*lol* that aside, yes I sell perfumes. I have some frequently asked questions from my customers such as:
*what’s the difference between perfume, body spray and mist
*what exactly is Cologne
*How do I know a good perfume; how long does a good perfume last
*How and where is perfume supposed to be sprayed
*which is best, perfume or perfume oil?
*If I go into perfume business will I do well?
The good news is that I’m here to answer all your questions, and if you have more, state it in the comment box.
so basically today I want to start by asking you if you’re a perfume freak,
what’s your best brand so far,
the perfume you’re using right now do you like it?☺️

BACK ON TRACK

Heloooo
heloooo
oh my gosh, it’s dusty here, pretty much cobwebbed.
uhh
yeah, dear readers, it’s been long since I posted here, it’s my fault. I was too busy to remember that I even own a blog room. I apologize.
Actually, henceforth, I’ve decided to be posting stuffs here.
what kind of stuffs will I be posting? you should ask.
I will post things that are entertaining.
you will get Poems, Stories( not just any story but real life stories, something that happened or is happening to me or anyone). I will also be posting videos and some gossip news.
Okay! Yesterday, my friend and decided to go on 14days poetry challenge.
yeah. infact I was supposed to post it earlier today but something came up.
But I’ll still post it…
So what y’all will do for me is to read and comment your most preferred poem…yeah, you will be the judge for fourteen days and on the last day, I will unveil the face of your favourite poet…my heart is already racing.
so here I come…..ring the bell 

*MY ANCHOR*

My heart had been unstable
Just like the current of the ocean
Dancing to the sounds of the wind
Seduced thousand times by odd lust

You are the anchor
That holds my heart
From sailing and wandering
In the ocean of lust and all

The anchor that sustains my heart
From fading away into the beyond
Like the greens and browns of nature

The anchor that holds my heart
Keeps its fire of hope and faith burning
Without you, oh ANCHOR, I would have drown.

Right in the ocean of thousands
My heart fells firm and safe
Unmoved by the tides of odd lust and all
Thanks to you, oh ANCHOR of anchors.

The next one 

*MAYBE*

As a little girl, I used to be home alone
the mirror in my room was my world,
I twirled in estacy and in admiration of my reflection
every morning and evening,
speaking to myself and raising every
reasonable and unreasonable argument my head could find


I wore my mother’s shoes,
I couldn’t wait till I’m grown,
how it feels to be big and beautiful just like her.
I’d dress in white and use my headtie for veil
oh, I dreamt of walking the aisle with my prince charming
oh my God, I just couldn’t wait to be free from the walls of childhood. I couldn’t wait to be free.


Now here I am, grown,
but the beauty of the world, I’m yet to unravel
cos it’s entangled with so much pains and responsiblity
I can feel my heart aching and my shoulder hurting
maybe if I hadn’t worn my mother’s shoes
I wouldn’t be in her shoes
maybe if I hadn’t dreamt of love I wouldn’t be seeking for love
and maybe just maybe if I hadn’t wished to be free from childhood, I would still be within my childhood walls.
maybe.

“The Only Friend I Had Wore Black and Red”.

Though it was quite late, I had to find something to eat, the night will never sleep if I don’t eat; I dragged my tired legs to the mini night market-I had a long evening walk earlier; the usual evening walk had something to do with a secret part of me, it’s something I can’t resist.
The night was cool, I rested my thoughts on the gentle breeze.
A line from the music I played earlier got stuck on my head
“…the only friend I had wore black and red”
It resurrected the feeling of loneliness and depression within, something strong but unexplainable.

“Hey, ogbanje!”
An unknown voice dismissed the illusive world, My curiousity was arrested, but I won’t be found yielding. I pretended as if I didn’t hear anything.
“Hey you, I know that you are an ogbanje and you can’t deny it”
it’s the voice of a young man, who could he be? It was obvious that he was referring to me, but I still didn’t try to pay an attention to him .
I picked a bread from the bread rack, owned by an old lady whom I usually buy beverages from; that was the only thing I could think of buying, I had no strenght to prepare a suitable meal.

“Mama how much is this?” I asked

“Na…”

“You no wan answer me abi…” the young man interrupted,
“…You think say I no know who you be?”

At this point, he was getting on my nerves, but I managed to squeeze out a fake smile.

“No mind this man, na joke im dey joke” the old woman laughed rhetorically, possibly hoping it was a joke.

“Ask her, She knows what I’m talking about, if I see ogbanje, I dey recognise them” he said to counter her unbelief.

She smiled at me, with a “is it true?” kind of look.

“Yes I’m” I answerd blantly, shock was clearly registered on her face.

“I talk am…” sounding like a prophet who just saw a vision for the first time.

“…I can never marry someone like you, Godforbid, you owe a lot to the person who have you the mark on your face”.
I stared at him like an angry demon,

“He doesn’t deserve to live” it wasn’t me talking, he has awoken something in me….

…Where Pains Can No Longer Reach You.

I know him,
I know him very well
He was the little boy that usually play with me round the well,
Blessed with a fair Chinese look
No words to define his handsomness.

Years later I heard,
“He died few days ago.”

The news tingled my ears
I hoped I didn’t hear well,
But it was certain,
He died.

Why?
How could he die? I mourned.


“He took hard drugs, and it damaged his lungs.”
Unbelievable! But he was just 19.

“He knew he would die,
he held his mother’s hands and pleaded”
“Mum, please let me live, I promise to serve God with my life”
Those were his last words.

If only she could save him
From the snitching hands of death,
Maybe he would have been the son she never had.

I hope you’ve gone to a place where pains can no longer reach you.
RIP.

#Krietivenation.

Picturecredit: #Pins

Where we Call Home. _by Epiphany._

Where We Call Home
(On Nigeria @60)

The lies that we tell to ourselves,
untold stories that we hum to ourselves –
stories whose words fail to haze in listening eyes;
stories whose history we munch at supper
when our stray eyes recall our youth-hood –
a past draped in ‘Responsible’ plaques–
so we wonder, “What are we doing here?”

Well, home is where we call here!

Those sweet tales we munch stealthily,
some pitch of ‘Vision’20’ vestiges…
Scoffs –at the ‘higher ups’, and their mis-reps,
a pitch firmly warped in Northern ‘illiteracy’;
Western ‘over-sabi’ racketeers;
Southern clamor –woolgathering,
and the Eastern hate for all things ‘un-theirs’.

Yet, home is where we call here!

Some creative spirit kips in our mother’s kitchen,
its joyful resilience puns lampooned comedies;
its six decades of intricacies flails too –at age,
at the many tethered unions:
‘Biafran’, ‘Bayajiddan’, ‘Omo Odù…’
Enrolment by revenue –
or by loss.

But, home is where we call here!

Isn’t it?

Well, I can only try,
to wipe the dry tears;
to sniff it all away,
to tell you my –our– story:
a story, not of failure, of a becoming;
a story, not of a nation, of a people –
a people whose home mirrors.

Happy New Month 🙃
©J. Olayinka Olarinoye (Epiphany)

You can follow up on his page to read more amazing poems @ https://beingtheepiphany.wordpress.com

The Journey is Yet to End

Ouuh (coughs) this place is very dusty (coughs again) where are the brooms, please I need a bucket and a mop stick, a lot needs to be put in place😩

Yeah yeah, Krietivenation’s blog is now back 🤓 we have been off for a while but it was for the best, trust me….and yes, we are going to be giving you something that will make you come back for more everyweek🤭.

Yeah, it’s no longer news that today is Nigeria’s 60th anniversary🥳🥳. Personally, krietivenation is wishing Nigeria and her citizens long life and prosperity. Can I hear a round of applause👏👏

Yes without much ado, I will like to go straight to the point.
This evening Krietivenation has decided to share an episode on how some Nigerians celebrated their country. There’s so much to say, but everything that needs to be said will be said with pictures. yeah pictures, you read right,😂😂. Also, we have a video for you all… calm down😄

But first, let me celebrate Nigeria with my own picture🇳🇬

Cheers.

so let’s take a look at other pictures…

Here this picture says _”we are imprisoned in our own country”_ or what do you think?
Someone described this picture with a poem. In our hearts we are hurt
Our ladies been raped
The weak being bullied
Our youths without job
Corruption in the air
Can we keep this for long
It now 60 years
Waiting for the so called change
When,where,how,which day will the change arrive
Raise up your voice and flag
Let call for change
Cast votes to the right person
If promises aren’t fulfilled kill him
We want the change at 60 now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. Written by David.
What is this picture saying? I think the little girl is trying to say _”Nigeria, please protect your children from the hands of rapist”_ or what do you think… I’m not really good at captioning pictures.😄
Someone has already graded the country. Nigerians ain’t smiling ooo.
Somepeople are about to deny their country…hmmm this is serious 😑
PUNCH NEWSPAPER… What a news on the 1st of all months😨😨
Forget about the reply, focus on the heading. I’m caught up with the word “TOGETHER”.
Some people are really having their fun…I love these attire😊😊.
Have you gotten your Rapsody? If you didn’t get any then you must have been indoor all day😂😂.
NIGERIA WE HAIL THEE!

Before I drop the video, I would like to ask you; How was your day😊😊? Feel free to drop your comments and like😊😊.

Brought to you by Krietivenation.

GOT YOU A GIFT.

Hi,
Really missed you,
What have you been up to?
Had my mind on you all-day
Hope you’re okay
Miss our long talks
Nothing specific
Just watching the way your lips moves;
Very addictive.
Remember the way your eyes glisten
Like the moon in the sea
Too mesmerising orbs
Of pure beauty
Your Skin, like silk
Soft and velvety
Looks like chocolate
And feels like a cream.
The figure of a model,
Perfect and curvy.
Could watch you walk for miles
And still, be obsessed.

Anyway thought you should know;
I’m back in town
Been on the low
For a week now
But I wanna meet up,
Nothing big,
Hoping we could talk
Over dinner.
Wanna catch up,
Know what I missed,
Tell you about my experience
And how I lived.

Got you a gift
It’s a bit small
But worth a lot
It’s valuable to me,
More than money.
It’s round and shiny
Bright and a bit heavy
With a beautiful blue rock,
It has the Shape of
a heart on it,
A gold band.
I wanna give it to you
Hope you’ll accept it,
Cos all I want now
Is For you to be mine.

@DEMI.

SHATTERED HEART!

SHATTERED HE
Before my lifeless body dances into the Mountains of no steps,
Hills that are not hilly,
Rocks of softened fleshes,
You must hear out my tirade,
With your ears pierced to the rhythms of its ugly diatribes.
My heart has been shattered,
And the smithereens are lost.
Perhaps thrown into deep seas to be eaten by wild fish,
Abandoned in the forest to be frolicked by wandering animals,
Scattered in the thin air for wraiths.
Love was my greatest enemy,
Our ways are embodiment of contradictory logics,
Love wanted this, I wanted that,
Agreement was far from us.
‘My will must be done,’ Love howled
‘To hell with you,’ I always said.
Like two bullies fighting for superiority,
Love and I were known foes,
His hard horrible hands were quickened to carve out my weaknesses,
But my wit was a bowel of everlastingness.
‘Who doesn’t need love?
Who can do without love?’
Love always asked rhetorically,
Even when He knew we both got the inclinations behind his incitement.
Love was my greatest enemy,
I never wanted to be loved,
Neither do I want to love,
For loveliness is not a lovely love,
So why should I ever be submerged in love?
Then I allowed love’s issue to get me intoxicated,
Out of excitement of defeating love,
I fell into the dormitory of love trances.
A lass caught my glimpse in this mystery and helped in the closure of my eyes.
I didn’t fall in love,
Like the bush meats fall in the hunters’ snares,
I slept, dreamt and woke in it,
All that could be remembered was the lass who stuck to my side in couple-like.
Indeed, shattering began to drill,
Nocturnality was the order of the day,
The love once hated became sought after,
Now more scarce than the fowl’s teeth,
Much scathing than a bleeding steel.
A taste had made my life tasteless,
A touch had made a drastic difference,
Which I never would have thought real
At times of conflicting love.
My heart turned a toyed irrresistance,
As I began to search for something where I had left nothing,
Lies and promises were my brothers,
Apologies and dreams were my excuses.
All were contending kerfuffles to my existence.
My heart has been shattered by love,
Dreams are dematerialized,
All that’s left is an empty vessel still in a thirst of a flower,
Love came laughing,
Enjoying the stupidity marked out of a man.
A weakness carved out by all dexterity,
‘Lust was indeed a messenger of love’
He is cruel and undefeated,
But excitement is much crueler,
The more I think about the dancing of the lifeless body, the more sanguinary I become.
But all must come to unfulfillment.
@Adesokan Opeyemi.