Counting

Someone once sent me this piece and made me realize how love can be such a beautiful destruction. Its almost like building your walls so high only for someone to come and destroy everything but instead of having a sense of anger you actually feel relieved because these walls were keeping you away from the world.

Was walking to work and a thought came to my mind. Love them as you love yourself. You will never love someone else unless you love yourself. And also maybe the problem is actually how we love ourselves. We hurting inside, looking in mirrors and seeing broken reflections and lowkey we want closure. We cant deal with the messes we have become so we look deep into others to find their broken reflections. And in a way we want someone else to fix us. BUT that doesnt work because we are all broken reflections. And whenever you look into someone else you will just see the same thing. Only when you see the beauty and love in yourself, is when you will see the beauty and love in others.
Loving him was purposely walking on thorns rather than the fine grass, it was flying so high just to hit the ground, it was driving in the wrong direction when you know that it leads to a dead end. Loving him was listening to a song in a completely different language on repeat, trying to understand the lyrics, it was filling your system with smoke instead of love and covering your wrists with scars instead of bracelets. Loving him was feeling chains around your throat as they tighten when you’re supposed to wear tiaras around your head, it was holding onto a cactus for help in a storm to stop the waves from taking you away. Loving him was going on a voyage in an endless ocean, it was entering a labyrinth with no way out, it was standing under a tree during a thunderstorm. Loving him came in waves and I thought that I could swim until the water entered my lungs and suffocated me. Loving him came in dark, sleepless nights you spent while waiting for him to turn up at your door (but he never does).
Loving him was like playing with the fire that you thought would reincarnate you but instead turned you into the ashes on the pyre.
Loving him was was like the hue of the sky carrying a hint of pink, slowing turning into the ruby red running down your fingers while playing with broken dreams. It wasn’t wishing to learn to drive a car when you’re sixteen but instead wishing one would hit you.
Loving him was painful, it was destroying me. He lowkey hurt me more than making me happy. I made her unhappy. My hat off to you. Now Im just another number and a good story to tell”

And that is the legacy I have left. After all was said and done. These where the words she had to say.

We causing each other pain not because we want to. But only because we do not know how to really love ourselves. You need to understand yourself, love yourself before loving others. Very vital

The Star that fell

Up above the sky so high, Twinkle twinkle little star how I wonder what you are…

I am a little star, shining so bright above your night.

I wish to reach out to you and laugh with you maybe even hold your hand.

Why do I have to only see you in the dark ?I have watched you from a far.

I used to be the center of your attention, every night I would guide you to your destinations.

But now im just a reflection of the past. I feel I have lost you.

I look up to the Giant and ask him why he made a star. I feel so alone.

I was made for you, to shine bright for you but you don’t notice me.

I wish I could come down to you and maybe we could run around in fields

 

Perhaps I am not bright enough for you anymore.

You don’t gaze at me the way you used to.

star

I plead with you Mr Giant blow me out

With a heart so heavy the little turned into dust.

And sadly fell from the sky.

The awkward and the simple

So i made my second ever illustration. Needless to say its not the cutest was trying so hard to make her look cute but she just ended up looking like a stuck up afro me. Anyway  I am really excited about using paint for my illustrations because to be honest i can never get the hang of all these other software. So  in case you are wondering her name is Kundie. The adventures of Kundie kinda has a nice ring to a book. (laughs to self). I can actually picture miss Kundie over here with a cheater leather outfit in some tree in the amazon jungle, except there are no cheaters in the amazon (thinking face). Snake skin maybe? hmm will see

Hmm Adventures of Kundie (laughs to self again)
illustration

Thoughts of Black Pregnant Girl: Needy

I choose to be vulnerable in your arms. to expose myself in your eyes and dispose of myself when needed, not because I am weak but because its in my nurture to give off myself. I am a fountain of many endless gifts from a Demi goddess who seems to have all your life problems on her shoulder and making them go away, to a slave who humbly submits to your will. With my smoothing words I tell you it will be okay but your response is a blow to my self esteem implying that I am the cause of your problems. If it was not for this precious life I carry or me being around…maybe…maybe it would be one less mouth for you to feed. I know  deep down you don t mean it , its just  the frustration speaking so i choose to let you beat me down and use me as a punching bag.

I am Needy. I am needy in sense that for me to be this strong pillar of strength i need you to be my support. Day in day out you chip away and I feel myself lose this strength, lose this purpose, This purpose that i used to hold on to so dearly. I’ve lost my identity …i used to have the choice to be vulnerable in your arms, to dispose myself when needed but now you have taken that away from me . You have taken away my will to give and I do not know who i am anymore.

14f8e90eb927eb52a44487d96ccf90e7 THOUGHTS OF A BLACK PREGNANT GIRL….to be continued

Space

Okay so I have been contemplating writing this blog because had a lot going through my mind in the past week.

So Pain right. You know Pain is actually not a bad thing. Had a conversation last night with one of my old friends and he told me a really funny but a bit heart breaking story of how his ex just left him without explaining herself. It was one of those “Oh babe i need space situations” at first he says he was so angry and did not understand why she would ask for that i mean things seemed solid but a year later he says he has realized what she actually meant by space.

well this might not apply to you but i feel most people actually end up in the same situations because they probably do the same mistakes.

  1. Your partner is their own person – they have / had their own life before yo came and its just a matter of them adjust their life to fit you in it. you can not expect a 360 turn just because you are now in a someone’s life. Honestly it takes so much time to adjust and adapt to people. you need to consider how they lived their life before you and find a balance.
  2. Time management- okay this a tricky one. he said that he used to spend time with his ex but it wasn’t the right time. Yes it might look like you spending a lot of time with your partner but if that time means its her accompanying you to do your business, to meet your friend and never actually doing anything that they want actually do with you then I am sorry to say you actually not giving them time
  3. Goals- Exaggerated goals and promises. words are a powerful tool and please people do not exaggerate things, If you know you can not do something of fulfill a promise do not make it. I know we all trying to impress each other but personally i feel that the more promises you make the more the burden you have to carry. You are just setting impossible expectations for yourself and when you do not pull through you actually kinda feel like crap which then can generate major low self esteem issues. And that is a little bag which comes with little tiny annoying problems.
  4. Mind reading- I am actually guilty of this. I always expect people to read my mind but LISTEN PEOPLE unless your partner is psychic please do not expect them to read your mind. Say how you feel and when you feeling it. Might seem hard and terribly embarrassing sometimes but they will truly appreciate it. (Unless they are they a self centered human who think whatever you say is a an attack to their character )

Anyway its been really interesting writing this blog. I have so much to say but then again don’t we all. So next time someone says they need space maybe take a long analysis at those four. There is probably a lot more reasons why your partner would ask for “Space” but yep those are the four I picked up.

Okay I am hungry now so will probably go grab a sandwich.  see you in the next post.i-want-some-space-meme

They say, but we are African

The say that history is written by the victors. I would like to share a bit of our African victory by correcting the erred history that has been fed to the masses for many decades.

 

They came to our shores, took the outlines of these rocks, and in Berlin they divided up our land, and split our wealth. And they say, “but you are African, your fronts are not unified, you always fighting “. But we are African! Our kingdoms traded in unanimity from the banks of the Nile to the Cape of the Khoisan. Our fight has always been for freedom and equality for all. The guns that today won’t let anything  grow, will once again be replaced by the Scythe and Sickle and the Mill Wheel.

 

They fuel their economies through our petroleum rich waters. They show case the Maserati on Forbes and tell us that Bill Gates is the richest man to ever live. And they say, “but you are African, poverty is your way”.  But we are African! Go to your Google right now and type, Mansa Musa. The black emperor of Mali. The richest man to ever walk the planet, even by our standards. He once spent so much gold in one of his trips, that the price of gold around the world dropped for ten years. There was so much gold in circulation that it lost its worth. Now come and talk about poverty.

 

They called us slaves. Slavery: Owning another human being the same way you would own a beast of burden. But we are African! Our stature is renowned as the great men of old were. Our “mutupo” speaks of our people as majestic as the beast of our plains. No Shakespeare! Our poetry beats with the heart of the Palanca Negra .” Mbuya chikonamombe, chigumbe chinounye….Gusho, vari rare…vari zihota…vemtuo munyere…vakazadzwa mhezi neVaranda.”  As a matter of fact, the word applied to the people of Eastern Europe, “the Slav People”, is where the word slave originated. They tried to impose they reality on a people far above their wake. They feel threatened by our unity and the strength that comes with it.

 

They called our education “bantu education”, as a way to ridicule us. But we are “Bantu” !  Have they forgotten that the greatest collection of literature was here. And stored by our black Egyptian brothers. ( the Library in Alexandria ).

Our Ubuntu tells of wisdom and unity passed down from black brother to black brother. We are Ubuntu.

 

Being African is knowing that we are proud of our name. No more South Rhodesia. I am great Zimbabwe. No more South West Africa. I am Namibia. No more New Lisbon. I am Angola…. I am Uganda, Botswana, Ruwanda … I am Africa!

 

Yashiro O.P.

Unapologetically African

Im sorry if I dont feel the need to apologize for being a bold african female.
The cold stares you effortlessly give when I decide to rock my fro with no make up do not phase me. What phases me though is you trying to undermine a sister based on the texture of her hair. Dont get me wrong I admire a sister who can put on a good face bit and rock that weave. The problem only comes when you lose yourself in all that. African women have a long history that roots down to strength. Primitive as we were , we drew our inspiration from how females species in the animal kingdom protected their own. We were the backbones of the homes. Did almost anything without breaking a sweat. To be an african female means more than just melanin popping and big ass.

We were born natural feminist. Which does not mean we looked down upon man and painted them black. But we knew the role we played in building our man to become better leaders and better fathers.

Being unapologetically african to me means I embrace all my african pride and with that I build a community of african people who can stand for themselves and for those who cant. Who can voice opinions when they matter.

When I look back at how our mothers fought for us african females to become independent it kind of saddens me because we have been set free only to end up in struggles we have set for ourselves.

Women aren’t free just because they are surviving, or even economically comfortable. They are free only when they have power over their own lives. – Shreen Essof

What does it mean to be unapologetically african to you?

Conscious identity

I remember beginning of last year every one was identifying themselves with the term conscious. and I am one person who found themselves asking what it meant to be conscious.

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Well most of the time when i actually heard someone say it, it was because they were in a compromised state, with their senses heightened. But is that what it actually means, that you can not be conscious without reshuffling your brain.

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The general description of conscious is, aware of one’s own existence , sensations, thoughts, surroundings etc.

Personally i feel being conscious or woke is having that understanding that everything correlates, knowing that you as a person are a part of something big and not just a space filling atom and finding beauty in things that the general human would turn a blind eye too.

The greatest gift to mankind is life and what you do with it is really important. Some choose to leave their lives oblivious to who they actually are. To them life is a cat and dog chase and they work themselves to the grave and not once do they get to actually live.

To be alive to be conscious to be woke is to appreciate yourself and others taking time to actually notice the tiny important things in life. Like the colour of your hair in the sun. The different types of coffee and why they are so many coffee shops in Cape Town. The different ways of living and how that is expressed in the infrastructures of different countries. And hey if you get the chance, witness something giving life or the breaking dawn.

My favorite childhood memory is the sound of rain on my yellow umbrella whilst I waited for my mom to come pick me up from day care. I remember my bag always used to smell like peanut butter jam sandwich. Such moments are rare and I feel that most people grow up and lose sense of being conscious and start chasing things that actually do not matter.

#STAYWOKE.