In the past couple of years, I have consciously not allowed any insult to be hauled at me without my responding in kind adjectives.
But I have also learnt that these pigs, like the gutter and can only climax if they drag you to their low gutter, dirty level. No matter how well perfumed you conduct yourself, a pig, will never raise its snout to appreciate the fragrance, all that appeals to them is the putrid smell of the gutter, where they are at home.
Lacking basic intellect to engage in the content of any message, they go after the messenger with bile, decomposing hatred, just to cover their inadequacies and use their oozing dirt to frighten others away from the potent pungent content of the message.
I have fed them enough oxygen. I have rolled in the mud enough with these scums of the earth and it is obvious that they cannot rise above their innate limitations and the expression, “oil a pig, powder a pig, a pig will always remain a pig”, is an everlasting truth. 
On this glorious Orie, Orie Nwinyi Azaraegbelu, nne nwanyi oma, ori na saucer, oji eke mere ola, ojere Onumurukwa ozi; I have resolved not to engage any pig in the gutter. If a pig cannot look up to see the world beyond its snout, or perceive the sweet aroma of joyful living that comes from being free from hate, free from borrowing another man’s enemies just to be seen as being stupidly loyal; I am sorry I can’t help.
Each engagement I have had with these pigs, diminishes me but adds to their growth as they had brought me to their level. It costs me a lot of mental energy to climb out of the gutter, where these pigs call home.
I will now save my energy for greater cosmic enrichment of my soul.
