I Think We Should Break Up

 I think we should break up - not because I don't love you anymore.

I think we should break up - because I feel like you've left me.

I think we should break up - because you aren't the person I found here.

I think we should break up - because I struggle to give myself to someone who cannot give themself

I think we should break up - because I find myself in emotional turmoil

I think we should break up - because I can't keep fighting a one-sided battle

I think we should break up - because I love you.

I Thought I Lost You

 I haven't been back here in years. I thought I had lost this blog. I tried to sign in and Google and its many soldiers came and told me that my information was incorrect and I had signed in from a device that was not recognizable on Earth and I should either promptly identify myself or die with the quickness.

I'm sat here in my room listening to Bloc Party live shows. It's funny how when things change, they still remain the same. I haven't blogged since 2019 but I still resonate with a large part of my last post and how I was feeling then. 

I've grown. I've grown a lot since then. I lost over 20 million rand, became heavily suicidal, found a dog that changed my life completely and lost that dog a few years later. I found love in various faces and guises and I've lost it in many the same way. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm a creature of habit in some sense. Am I happy? Right now I would say the things that give me live out weigh the things that drag me down but the biggest detractor of my happiness is the state of my relationship. It never changes does it. I will always come back when things become hard because I really do need an outlet to express myself. 

It makes me sad that I can't find peace and safety in those I find myself in love with. Am I a bad judge of character? Who knows? I like to think I'm not but then again the things I like are often different from the norm so who knows. I love this woman, that much I know but what I get from her makes me realise I am not in love with her. Hey look, at one point I'd fight Goliath 1v1, fist to fist about how in love I was and that was true. It's not to say it's not true now either but the feeling isn't there right now. I am someone who needs assurance. I can't love you if I don't feel love from you and right now I don't feel that. There are a lot of red flags that I am ignoring because I find myself wearing rose tinted glasses so all the red just looks normal. I find my mind state reverting to early MsiziSithole@Blogspot.Com thinking where dealing hurt on the back of my hurt was ok. That's not me anymore. I've grown. Fool me once, shame on me as they say but fool me at least 3 times and we fight. I don't want to get to three.

I'm writing this after a few drinks, often always my best work. In a state of emotional distress, the foie gras of literature. I don't really know if this has made sense but again I don't care. This is my corner of the world and nothing else matters. 

Baby Lion Goes

Baby lion goes
Where the islands go

I've had this line by Arthur Russell playing on a constant loop in my head for the past few days. More importantly, it's the version Kanye West used on 30 Hours as a sample.

I don't really know why it's stuck with me so much but the way it sounds in his song, the almost haunting nature of it has stuck firmly in my brain and I can't help being drawn back to it every time. I don't know if my mind is trying to build a mystique around it, maybe I'm trying to find more in it than already exists but I really do love it and something about it resonates within me.

The last few weeks, no, the last few months have been a really dark time for me. Things I thought were set in stone, experiences I've felt and people I've come to love and hold dear have all seemed to just crumble before me and I've been left feeling quite lost and alone.

For the last two years I've been struggling with who I am and my place in the world. I'm usually the type of person who is very self-assured and I thought I was someone who was extremely capable and able to handle anything that came my way but lately it's been a struggle to shake away my feelings of loneliness and inadequacy. Some mornings I wake up feeling on top of the world, like I'm untouchable and nothing could possibly get me down but lately I've been feeling like I don't quite have everything together. I've been feeling like everything I do has no purpose and mostly I've been feeling like I have no purpose and don't matter and I've got to say, it's tough man, it really is.

I'll often sit and think, trying to find the root of the issue and more often than not, I draw a blank. It niggles at me like a loose tooth and I keep playing with it with my tongue and some days I can ignore it and be fine but other times it really hurts and leaves me unable to do anything. In times like these, I find myself reaching for my earphones and trying to find music that helps me drown out the noise in my head, in hopes that it'll fix whatever it is that's going on and I'll be fine again. There's been a lot of controversy surrounding Kanye West over the last few years. There's been a lot of controversy surrounding Kanye West pretty much his whole career if we're being honest. I've often been able to separate the man from the music and it's always worked really well for me.

There's no doubting that he's made musical gems over the years. Whether you love him or hate him, there's no denying the man is a musical genius. "I am flawed as a human. I am flawed as a person. As a man I am flawed... ... but my music is perfect!" That's a direct quote from him and aptly put. He has many, many flaws and there's always something new surrounding him that has people divided but his music is the one thing no one can fault him on. I've been listening to a lot of his stuff recently, just trying to reconcile my thoughts and it has helped me a lot.

Music is one of the best healers I know.

Sometimes it works. Sometimes I slip out of the funk and the fog in my head clears up and I'm back in fighting shape and the small knocks that life throws at me are easily deflected and I can continue on. Other times, I get set back even further and it feels like I'm down even deeper than before. I'm trying to work out where it is I often go wrong and what it is that leads me down these dark corridors I find myself sometimes. I know the stresses of work often get to me. The constant fight to do good by myself and those around me by being the best I can be in my professional field often weighs heavy on me and that's a struggle I'm trying to win but it proves tough. I also struggle a lot with my relationships with people and that has been my biggest challenge recently. I feel as if I have no real set support around me and that is tough sometimes. I know everyone has their own struggles to deal with in life and I can't rightfully expect anyone to put my feelings and fears in pride of place over theirs and that hurts. Often times I will do just that for them, I will almost always push back whatever it is I'm facing and focus on what it is that's bothering those around me because I do truly want to see them happy and at peace but lately I've realised that steals huge chunks of my own peace and I end up feeling lower than before but I just can't stop myself. When it comes to the problems of others, I'm quickly there to offer myself up and be an ear and a shoulder to cry on but when it comes to my own issues, I tend to push them back for another day. I wouldn't dream of bothering another with what troubles me and so I'm often left trying to deal with things on my own and lately I've been struggling.

I've made islands of people. I treat someone as a small oasis where I can try find my ground again and build myself up. I'm realising now that that's not really a good thing for me to do. People do not exist as a recess from the elements that are in my head. I can't try and use them to replenish me as if they exist solely for the purpose of making me feel like my old self again. Oftimes I feel like I've outgrown a person or a situation and I will set off in search of something new and then I'm back out in the water. I leave feeling like I can make it to the next place, in search of a  place where I will find home but along the way I start flagging and I realise that I wasn't quite ready for this voyage and I'm out adrift, wading water and trying to keep my afloat.

The fault lies with me. Instead of trying to work on what it is that bothers me, that makes me feel the way I've often been feeling lately, I allow myself to be distracted by the excitement of a new island and in doing so, I forget what it is that brought me there in the first place and trick myself into thinking nothing is wrong until I set off again and I'm out in the middle of the ocean where all my issues surround me again and I'm back out there feeling lost. 

I'm trying to work on that and fix that in myself. It's not easy but I owe it to myself to put my issues first and focus on that. I can't expect to be a good person to those around me if I'm not being good to myself. This has been a ramble with no real direction, I've just been writing as thoughts come to mind but it's really helped, I feel a bit better for it. 

Write. Write. Write. Delete.

Write. Write. Write. Delete.

The amount of times I do this is alarming. 

I can sit for hours, fingers attacking the keys savagely and then,

Delete.

I don't know why. 

I don't know why I can't seem to allow my truth to stay intact, alive, existing.

It's not because I don't feel it. 

I do.

Maybe it's because I don't want to accept it.

I don't want to live it.

I don't understand it.

Eventually, I will and when I finally do,

Delete.

Men Are Trash.

Reading all of these terrible things that happen to women on a daily really breaks my heart. 

It's crazy how something as small as walking down the street can be so uncomfortable and frightening for women. I've always thought myself to be as scary as a squished snowball, you know. Barely alarming to anyone besides small babies and birds but even I can be seen as a threat and that's not because I necessarily am, but because of such lived experiences. 

When I walk anywhere, I tend to do so at quite a quick pace because I want to get to where I'm going as quickly as possible. I hate having to be out and about, I'm not one who enjoys the journey all that much. On occasion, it has happened that whilst walking around someone, I've been the lone guy on the street approaching a woman on her own or a group of women and I could always sense a bit of apprehension the closer I got. For a long time I thought it was because they were worried I'd try chat them up and to be honest, I've never stopped and tried to speak to a girl on the street because I know how annoying that can be for them and I wouldn't want to ruin their day or my own - the embarrassment alone would destroy me. I've never understood people that do this. 

After a while I figured maybe they thought I was some type of hoodrat that wanted to rob them or something. In this country, there's always that thought in the back of your mind and to be honest, I get a bit apprehensive myself when I come across a group of guys or anything because I've been mugged before and it's not an experience I'd wish on anyone. These days it's become even more dangerous because there is less regard for human life and these wastes won't even hesitate to cause you harm. I didn't quite understand it, I would never do that. There's about as much chance of me mugging someone as there is of a dog suddenly one day getting up on its hind legs and running for President. It would never happen. 

The thing is though. After reading all these stories on Twitter about just how vile we men can be to women, I'm really not surprised at all. Not once did I ever stop to think that their reaction to me, a living version of Milhouse, could be because of many things. The fact that I am a man makes me a threat regardless of my intentions or lack thereof. It's painful to think that they have to live a life where theirs could be taken at any moment for something as trivial as refusing to acknowledge a man's advances or any other infantile reason. It's disgusting. And the fact that there still are people out there who fail to realise this hurts even more. There are people who fail to see why things like "Men Are Trash" have gained such traction. The "Not All Men" crowd don't understand that by saying this, they're invalidating the lived experiences of these women who have suffered. They are diluting a very important message with their naivety and failure to understand. 

We need to stop and reevaluate the way we look at things in this country. The statistics don't lie. We as men need to stop treating our women like accessories that come after we've got the house, car, clothes and money. We treat them as possessions, things we can do with as we please and that's not on. These are people, equal to us in every way and in most cases, a lot better on top. There needs to be a change. We as men need to stop being Garbage Children, Dirty Dishwater humans. 

...

I feel in love with a strong, beautiful woman. 

I lost my legs and tumbled down into a deep crevice where the only thing that could lift me out was her delicate, iron-clad hand. 

I gave my heart away and I had no ways to get it back. 

I lost my soul to a strong, beautiful woman. 

My legs were hacked off and careened deep into a dark abyss and the only thing that could lift me out was her delicate, iron-clad hand. 

My heart was wrenched from me, destroyed as I lay watching. 

Half A Cent Of Opinion.

I hate how the greatest minds that will eventually come out of this generation are being fed this idea that to be great, you need to fit into this box that has been designed for you by minds that lost their relevance long ago. I watch how we think, how we perceive things and the way we go about doing the things we do on the day to day. The archaic practices of the past seem to cling to us like moss. We don't fully realise just how they slowly grow on us, manifesting themselves in the way we speak and see things until it's too late and they've blinded us completely.

I'm still building up my understanding in all of this. I'm not fully weighing in on the situation right now, that will come later because I don't have all the information I feel I need to be fully capable to have an informed opinion.

Just watching this situation in Stellenbosch, actually, the country as a whole, I can't help but feel saddened. I'm at a loss of words when I see the new outrage that has been brought up. If it isn't students fighting one another to tell the other why their outrage is insignificant, it's grown men and women trying to point out why others should be seen and feel insignificant. If there's one thing I cannot stand, it is the type of person who comes to you guns blazing, fixing to force feed you their deeply ingrained doctrine. I understand that everyone has a differing view and opinion to the next person and that, I am more than okay with, it's when people are not willing to see and understand that everyone will have a differing opinion and theirs isn't necessarily the correct one when the problem arises. There is nothing stopping you from bringing across what you believe and in the same turn of the coin, taking in and understanding what I believe too. It really isn't that hard. I can only put it down to a pigheaded, blind ignorance and what could possibly be fear.

You cannot tell me all these issues we see around the country do not stem from a sense of fear. The "Afrikaaner"(and I'm only picking on them because of the relevance) in South Africa fears that his culture is dying. As the youngest in the world, it would make sense for it to be wiped out if it were not given enough nourishment. As transformation comes, this plays on the mind and in an effort to safeguard what they hold dear, they lash out. In an effort to keep their sense of belonging intact, they try to undermine those trying to find their feet and in doing so, begin to exclude not only the people of colour in the country, but also the English speaking white South African. Most of the focus though, unfortunately, is thrown on race and it becomes a savage, fecal flinging match between the two sides and in a place like Stellies for example, there is no hope. How can you as a South African, turn to another and tell them they are not good enough to be at a place where they are more than able to afford and get through academically and tell them they don't belong just because they're of another skin colour? Is this not ignorance? Is this not a fear of change?

 But what gets me is this. How can these new minds, these fresh ideas, these new visions that we need to keep this wonderful country afloat be shut down like this? By an institution that many find to be one of the very best. How can you possibly justify giving certain learning packages in one language and then be shocked when people fail to understand? English, as we all know, is the universal accepted medium and I would understand if things came as standard in English and then other language options were given, with the very same material in them like any other right thinking university would do. Many a time I've heard from friend, black an white, how certain things get left out of certain packages and they then have to scramble to find all they need. It's almost as if the creative is being killed by the rigid codes of the Institution.

Of course this is only my opinion on something I am still wrapping my head around but what I fear is that by the time I do, it would be too late.

Full Transcript of Kanye West's speech at the VMAs.

“Bro. Bro! Listen to the kids. First of all, thank you, Taylor, for being so gracious and giving me this award this evening.

And I often think back to the first day I met you also. You know I think about when I’m in the grocery store with my daughter and I have a really great conversation about fresh juice… and at the end they say, ’Oh, you’re not that bad after all!’ And like I think about it sometimes. … It crosses my mind a little bit like when I go to a baseball game and 60,000 people boo me. Crosses my mind a little bit.

And I think if I had to do it all over again what would I have done? Would I have worn a leather shirt? Would I have drank half a bottle of Hennessy and gave the rest of it to the audience? Ya’ll know ya’ll drank that bottle too! If I had a daughter at that time would I have went on stage and grabbed the mic from someone else’s? You know, this arena tomorrow it’s gonna be a completely different setup. Some concert, something like that. The stage will be gone. After that night, the stage was gone, but the effect that it had on people remained.

The … The problem was the contradiction. The contradiction is I do fight for artists, but in that fight I somehow was disrespectful to artists. I didn’t know how to say the right thing, the perfect thing. I just … I sat at the Grammys and saw Justin Timberlake and Cee-Lo lose. Gnarls Barkley and the FutureLove … SexyBack album … and Justin, I ain’t trying to put you on blast, but I saw that man in tears, bro. You know, and I was thinking, like, ’He deserved to win Album of the Year!'”

And this small box that we are as the entertainers of the evening … How could you explain that? Sometimes I feel like all this s–t they run about beef and all that? Sometimes I feel like I died for the artist’s opinion. For artists to be able to have an opinion after they were successful. I’m not no politician, bro!

Look at that. You know how many times MTV ran that footage again? ’Cause it got them more ratings? You know how many times they announced Taylor was going to give me the award ’cause it got them more ratings? Listen to the kids, bro! I still don’t understand awards shows. I don’t understand how they get five people who worked their entire life … sold records, sold concert tickets to come stand on the carpet and for the first time in they life be judged on the chopping block and have the opportunity to be considered a loser! I don’t understand it, bruh!

I don’t understand when the biggest album, or the biggest video … I’ve been conflicted, bro. I just wanted people to like me more. “But fuck that, bro! 2015! I will die for the art! For what I believe in. And the art ain’t always gonna be polite! Ya’ll might be thinking right now, ’Did he smoke something before he came out here?’ The answer is yes, I rolled up a little something. I knocked the edge off!

I don’t know what’s gonna happen tonight, I don’t know what’s gonna happen tomorrow, bro. But all I can say to my artists, to my fellow artists: Just worry how you feel at the time, man. Just worry about how you feel and don’t NEVER … you know what I’m saying? I’m confident. I believe in myself. We the millennials, bro. This is a new mentality. We’re not gonna control our kids with brands. We not gonna teach low self-esteem and hate to our kids. We gonna teach our kids that they can be something. We gonna teach our kids that they can stand up for theyself! We gonna teach our kids to believe in themselves!”

If my grandfather was here right now he would not let me back down! I don’t know I’m fittin’ to lose after this. It don’t matter though, cuz it ain’t about me. It’s about ideas, bro. New ideas. People with ideas. People who believe in truth. And yes, as you probably could have guessed by this moment, I have decided in 2020 to run for president.”

Catfishery

When I'm at home, there are three things I enjoy doing more than anything else. Playing Xbox, listening to music and watching strange TV programs. From 9pm things on TV start to turn weird and you find some pretty interesting shows. Just last night I watched a show on people who were trying to survive in the jungle with no clothes on. It makes you wonder what goes on in these TV show pitch meetings. 

"We need an idea for a new type of survival program"

"I know. Let's throw two random strangers into the wild

With no help, crew or tools."

"Yeah, I don't know. Seems a bit dated."

"Well, what if they had no clothes on?"

"Brilliant! We have a winner!"

I've been off work for the last two days and decided to catch up on all my PVR recordings from the last few weeks. I've collected about 6 new episodes of Catfish and they were calling my name. Now if you don't know, I love Catfish. I can honestly watch that show for hours upon hours and never get bored. It always blows my mind how people get swept up into these internet lies. I'm also astonished at the types of people that get dragged out from behind their desktop lies. Some of the characters on the show really make me wonder if people in parts of America have taken to mating with vegetables. 

How can they be so twisted in the head? 

I watched an episode where this girl was using the pictures of another girl and was telling people to go kill themselves and disgusting things like that. In this day and age, with all the mental problems that people suffer, how can you say hurtful things to people. What if these people were suicidal and that was the straw that broke the camel's back? When they finally met her, she was this cheerful, almost psychotic teenage girl that saw absolutely nothing wrong with what she had done. She even went as far as to say that she was angry with the girl whose pictures she had stolen because she had gone and told everyone that they were being fooled. 

How messed up is your life, how truly cooked in the head are you, for you to pretend to be someone else on the Internet and spin a web of lies so intricate that it becomes your life? When do you finally realise that what you're doing is completely messed up and that maybe you should just switch the ADSL off for a few days. 

Another thing I love about Catfish is just how Nev and Max go about things. Nev is the softer one. He's all, "Hey let's be understanding and open minded" and Max really is like any one of us, he's very much "What the fuck!?" I think if I had to be on the show with them I'd also be very much "what the fuck." I often wonder how they manage to keep their cool and process these things because often, the things I see on that show just wrinkle my brain. I remember there was an episode where this guy pretended to be a musician and conned people out of thousands of dollars. How and why would you be doing that my dude? I would throw the most vicious hands known to man. The amount of people I would have punched on Catfish would be longer than the amounts of people Jet Li has beaten in his movies. 

Anyway, I've completely lost what the actual point of this was. I think this was meant to be about my nightly routine but I got carried away on a Catfish tangent. Now I've lost the point of this. Eh. I think I'll just watch another episode. 

Greek Tragedy - The Wombats.

We're smashing mics in karaoke bars

You're running late with half your makeup on

This method acting might pay our bills

But soon enough they'll be a different role to fill

I love this feeling

But I hate this part

I wanted this to work so much

I drew up our plans on a chart

Cars are flipping, I'm in hot pursuit

My character's strong, but my head is loose

She hits like ecstasy

Comes up and bangs the sense out of me

The tarot cards say it's not so bad

And the blades rotate, there's just no landing pad

And better have said it, but darling you're the

best

I'm just tired of falling up the penrose steps

I hate this feeling

But I love this part

She really wants to make it work

And I clearly want to let it start

We'll build a waterslide

As soon as I get home

Oh and she hits like ecstasy

Comes up and bangs the sense out of me

It's wrong, but surely worst to leave

And she hits like ecstasy

So free up the cheaper seats

Here comes the Greek Tragedy

...

I've been reading By The River Piedra I Sat Down And Wept by Paulo Coelho and I've got to tell you, it's ruined me.

Over the last couple of months, I've been inaccessible emotionally. There was no way of getting any form of rise from me. I've barely registered any sort of affection but after just a few days of reading this, I feel as open and as raw as roadkill. If you don't know the story, it's about a woman who rekindles a love with her childhood friend who is now a man of spiritual brilliance. It takes place in the space of a week, a roller coaster of denying, accepting and - from what I've been told since I haven't finished it due to wanting to make it last as long as possible- losing love.

Love is a many strange thing. I've only ever really loved twice in my years - but I think I might be sitting on three - and to be honest with you, as great as those times were, I can only remember the bad bits. I know everything wasn't all bad. I know that I was happy and that I wanted nothing more than what i was feeling at the time but every time I think back to those times, I find myself shivering slightly and hoping to never go back there again. I think this is why I've been so emotionally closed. I was never great at dealing with the loss. This book has highlighted a lot of points that have struck a chord with me. I've really changed the way I look at this whole love business.  I used to think that it took time to fall in love. I used to think that it was impossible to just suddenly meet someone and be head over heels with them.

 That was how it was with my first love. We were friends for ages and with time we developed feelings for one another and ended up being together and it was really great. The second time around though, I felt it almost instantly. I didn't know quite what to make of it and because of that, I tried my best to control it. I didn't accept it for what it was and I ended up turning something great into a sour mess. The thing about love is that it comes in like a strong wind. You simply can't stop it no matter how hard you try.

Right now I find myself in a quandary. I'm faced with a situation that is less than ideal. I'm faced with what is possibly an unrequited love. There is nothing more painful, or so I'm told, as an unrequited love. Personally, I refuse to think of this as anything more than a slight infatuation because I refuse to accept that I could find myself in a situation where I could not get the outcome I wanted - it's selfish I know, but this is my corner of the world - and so it can't be real. The problem is, I'm faced with all the telltale signs of my loves gone by and that's what worries me. I don't know if I can handle this right now. Why must I deal with this when I still have so many things in my life that I need to sort out. I'm trying to build my brand up, focus on me, I can't have feelings for someone else plaguing and hindering my progress.

Having found the switch that has opened me up to all these feelings, I know I'm handling the spill out terribly but right now I'm in a state of panic. The best way to deal with this would be to deal with it head on. Admit to myself where I stand and then work it out. But I won't, at least I don't think I will. Right now, I'lI probably ignore it till it goes away or drives me insane and makes me act the fool. I know this isn't the way to go about it but trying to get my head around all this is bugging me out.

It helps having this rant out. My black book is full of a million other things that are so far beyond this manchild rant that I'd be ashamed to put it in there. In time I'lI have a solution.

This Came Out At 5.

It's 4:20 am. Here I sit, not asleep. The house is dead quiet except for the sounds of my fingers on these keys.

Just came from another shift at Live. Well we got in at about 3am but I've been sat here, mind as mush and limbs like soggy noodles, unable to get myself in a state where sleep would finally wash over me. I think it may be the litre of energy drinks I had at work coming back to haunt me. In hindsight, that wasn't the smartest of moves on my behalf but I definitely needed to pick up my energy levels or I would've shrunk deep into myself and been completely useless.

I haven't blogged in a while. I've pushed out drivel and such, for the sake of keeping this thing active but I haven't done a blog. By blog, I mean a brief summary of what's been going on in my days. Actually, maybe I have. I can't really say if I'm making much sense or not, I just feel like I haven't been very honest and open lately.

But ya, what's been happening with Msizi these past couple of weeks. Well, to begin with, I think I've finally found what I want to do. This year has been a topsy turvy year for me. 2014 has not gone as I envisioned. I came into it thinking I knew myself and what I wanted to do with my days but as the year progressed, I realized that I actually had no idea what I was doing. It feels like for large parts of the year, I was flying blind with no direction, no purpose. I was just a bystander on this roller coaster I call my life. I've had to come to terms with a few things, my commitment phobia being one of them. If there's one thing I can say about myself, it's that I fear commitment. I don't know why. I just struggle to commit to something fully. I don't even know if I'll commit to finishing this post. It's gotten to the point where I've started to drive myself insane. It really isn't that hard to start something and see it through. It's not that I can't. I know I can. I know I have it in me to do anything I set my mind to. I could set fire to the ocean if I really wanted to and was willing to just focus. It's just that I'm very impatient and it is a disgusting trait to have and let rule me. I've been working on it and aim to do so, to keep it in check for as long as I possibly can.

I was speaking to a friend the other day, Rogan. He said something to me that has stuck with me and has been the driving force behind me getting my head out my arse and moving forwards. He asked me what I enjoyed doing. No, he asked me what it was that I really enjoyed doing. Something that brings me joy in it's purest form. Something that puts a smile on my face and lifts me, putting me on the highest crest of a wave of endorphins. I told him what I really enjoyed doing was writing and his answer to that was so simple and concise, it rang through my whole being. He said, "Then write. Just write as much as you can." I don't know why it was so hectic but it honestly felt like I was hearing those words for the first time. It felt like good to have someone ask me that and then be so honest with their response. I don't know why but it felt like if I didn't heed what he was saying, I would be cheating myself out of a golden opportunity. I would be cheating myself out of happiness.

I've been brushing up on my writing. I've been investing time in reading books. I've been writing in my Black Book. I've been sniffing at dictionaries like a pig looking for truffles. Basically, I've been doing everything I possibly can to help me write. It's gotten to a point where I've decided that maybe it's time I took the idea of moving on out this city seriously. I obviously don't think that leaving Durban would make me any better at this, for all I know it could make things worse but I feel like I've exhausted the adventures I could have within these four walls and it's time I ventured off and saw what else this country has to offer. I've had the feeling of living in a stagnant state for far too long. I've seen the social circles, I've been to all the places, I've done all there is to do. For a very long time I felt like this was it. Now I think it's time I got my head straight and fluff out my wings a bit.

Another thing that has inspired me to rein myself in and get going is Sharice. I've seen the girl go from being an actual limpet on the side of Tyler and become her own person. She's done so well for herself in becoming her own person that I cannot contain the pride I feel when I think of her. From someone who didn't even know what she was going to do with herself a year ago, she's turned around and started following her passion and is now living a life that is paid for by it. I think that's wonderful. She left her comfort zone, stuck through it and has come out on the other side smelling like roses. I know if I put all of this potential to use, I could also do something similar.

I've made a promise to myself that it's time to get serious with what I love. It's time to put all my time and devotion into making myself a better person, someone I can look on in the late hours and be proud of. It's a promise I intend on keeping and putting it up here, all of this, was really more of a reminder than anything. I don't know why but there's something about having things written on here that makes them seem so final to me.

Black Books #1

Living on a pack a day, yellow you tarnish. You feel there's justice in the things you say but you're speaking in silence.

Alone he left you, abrupt. After you poured out your soul. The dam burst from your chest. It's not fair. You feel like no one should see you like this but there he is, a mix of cool and uncouth, teetering between fight or flight. He's not said anything new. His words have all come before. He's not done what he should, he's barely opened up his doors. And yet he expects you to breathe out all you hold dear. All you have. All you are. All you'll ever be.

It's not fair. It's not right. It's not normal. It's not kosher. Who is this fiend that slips through the night, knocking over your jars, barely apologising as he slips through your fingers once more? Who is this that wants to hold you in the open palm of his hand but not promising it won't turn into a cleched fist? Who is he and why does he fascinate your mind and why does he take up all your time.

Stop All That Coon Ish.

We live in a funny world.

Today, a normal Sunday in suburbia, a black boy found himself shifting uncomfortably on his couch with latent rage and contempt for those of his own kind.

Today, I was pissed off.

I was on Twitter, getting these fire flame tweets out about F1 and general nonsensical rubbish I tend to tweet about and I came across a few pictures from HCP. HCP is this thing that was held in Joburg called Homecoming Picnic. Basically, from my understanding, it's just a gigantic piss up for the local natives. Now I know you're thinking,  "Well why are you angry Msizi? I mean, you hate Joburg and weren't even there so why does it bother you?"

Well, what bothers me is this. There was a picture of some girl who had passed out on the ground from either drinking too much or mixing up her uppers and downers, I don't know, but people were literally dragging her through the proverbial mud with their comments. Someone went as far as to find a picture of her when she was still fine and functional and made a before and after type deal. Ok, I understand it's funny and what not if you're there at the time and all but to go as far as expose her like that on social media is a bit sus in my eyes.

Firstly, there was some oke who shat himself and yes he got washed through the manual retweets too but he wasn't cut up anywhere near as much as this girl was. I don't know this girl and obviously if she managed to get herself in such a state then a bit of abuse can be warranted, I mean we're all going to judge the over drunk person regardless of how understanding we think we are but do so in such a way that's not overboard. Not only does she have to wake up with the world's largest headache and monstrous memory gaps with the shame of a million gophers on her head but now she must deal with being torn into and being called all sorts of names?  Nah man.

There's a definite double standard at play here. If this was a guy then it'd be laughed off and never brought up again unless in passing. A FULLY GROWN MAN SHAT HIMSELF AND PASSED OUT IN HIS OWN EXCREMENT AND NOTHING IS BEING SAID BUT YOU HAVE THE TIME TO CALL THIS GIRL THE KINDS OF NAMES THAT WOULD MAKE JON VLISMAS BLUSH? I just don't get it. How can that be okay?

I don't get black people sometimes. I mean I love you guys but sometimes you're a bunch of coons. I hate the word coon. Call me it all but don't call me that. To me, a coon is as ignorant as they come. A simple waste of face and character. The kind of black people that send us back years in this battle for equality, those are coons. People who do and say the kind of things that lead us to being regarded as second rate citizens. I was just going through my Timeline and looking at tweets from people I followed and regarded as somewhat open minded and was shocked to see just how easily they fell into the coon behaviour traps. I mean if you're a woman, what makes you think it's fine to climb into another woman who clearly had a lapse of better judgement and now finds themself in a not so pleasant situation. We don't know what happened. Maybe she got her drink spiked. Maybe someone took advantage of her while she was out of it. Who knows, but you can sit there and call her what you want without thinking, meanwhile she could be facing all kinds of trauma. Way to kick your fellow man whilst they're done. Bravo to you.

I'd never go to such a thing because I know what they can be like. I know the types of vultures that sit and prey on the slipping. I know the types who will find whatever they can so they can bathe in retweets for a day. Those kinds of events are breeding grounds for the most coonish of activities, and then those same people will turn around and cry foul when it happens to them. Miss me with all that, please.

Hunger Is Real.

That douchebag mosquito is back. Seriously, I don't know how it didn't get its fill of my blood last night. I swear it probably got away with 15 pints of my blood and a dainty little take-away satchet for the road.

Anyway, forget that nuisance. I understand what hunger feels like. Now I thought I knew what being hungry was like, I mean I've eaten before so obviously I must've felt hungry right? Well not quite. See every time I ate, I ate because it was eating time and it would make sense to eat. Lately though I've been eating because I genuinely need it.

4 or 5 times a week for the past month (minus this one because we've had builders in and I've had to take on the role of honorary foreman) I spend 3 hours a day in a vest and trainers, sweating and kicking and lunging and lifting and doing all the sort of things that really burn energy. I've been mad dedicated to my tracksuit and trainers life that it's become the staple of my daily routine. After doing all that for a large chunk of my day, my body literally cries out in pain and threatens to lay charges against me. This is what introduced me to hunger.

The first time this happened, I honestly thought I was dying. I didn't know what was cutting. Why did I suddenly have what felt like a concentration of all the black holes in our solar system, living in my body? Why was my stomach telling me the whole plotline to every Police Academy movie? I thought I was going to fall over and die on the spot. There I'd be, laid to rest with my headstone reading, "Here lies Msizi, the result of being poes hungry."

Being hungry is up there as one of the worst feelings in the world. I used to be able to survive for hours without food because I used to never do anything but now I can't go a few hours without having to chow down. I don't eat copious amounts of food or anything. I have my usual 3 meals with fruit smoothies and other things in between. I have to gi e props to the inventor of tbe toaster. I hope that genius is still getting mad action in the afterlife because what he did for me, I'll never be able to truly explain. I go blank if o can't have toast. Toast is up there with water for me as something we all need. If I want a sweet snack, put some jam on that stuff. If I'm going savoury then some bovril and cheese. Toast is without a doubt my most favourite form of bread. I also have to give a shout out to Koo baked beans. Aaaahhhhh man. I thought I knew what baked beans tasted like but honestly I knew nothing. I was like Stevie Wonder trying to explain the colour blue. Usually I'd get a tin or two of Rhodes beans and that was good for 4 daya or so but the other day my mom brought home a six pack of Koo beans and my whole head exploded. I had some earlier and now I want more.

Anyway, I guess after writing all that I can see why this damn mosquito is back here for seconds. I hate the feeling of being hungry and I honestly wouldn't wish it upon anyone because when your body doesn't have food, it literally starts to eat itself. There is no feeling I hate more than my own body eating away at itself. I'm hungry again. I must feed.

Little Black Book.

There's a mosquito flying through my room right now. I can only hazard a guess that she's after my blood. I mean it is feeding time and I have blood that tastes like the sweetest scarlet nectar. It's the Oros to mosquitoes. It's the Rolls Royce of mosquito feed. It's top tier 5 Michelin star fare.

I've been meaning to get myself a little black book where I can write all my strange thoughts and notions. People have been writing down their thoughts since the first caveman realised a buffalo bone could leave a mark on a rock face. People have been jotting things down for millennia, regardless of what it is. It doesn't really matter what you have to say, whether you're telling the future or just writing about a silly satan creature trying to suck your blood. Basically I just wanted something to take the place of a blog.

Having a blog is great and all. I mean I've kept this thing for years now. I haven't been as great as I once was it keeping it running but I've made an effort here or there. Having a little diary of sorts though would be epic. There's just something about writing words on page that really is freeing. I hate sounding cliche but it is true. Sometimes when I find myself with nothing to do I'll get out my exam pad and just write. I have no set plan or anything, I just free flow until my hand is tired or something else calls for my attention. Typing things out is nothing quite like it. I sometimes sit in front of my computer trying to find things to say and they all cling to the dark corners of my mind, hiding from the spot light of attention that is trying to bring the out onto those plastic keys. Give me a pen and words will fight over one another to be next down that ink-filled tube, to be neatly laid out on that lined bed of paper.

These days I guess I've just been feeling like doing things the old school way isn't so bad. I know a little black book will steal away from what comes up here but if I do happen to pen a gem, it's not like I could ever stop it finding its way here. I love myself too much to deprive myself the pleasure of going over this years from now and being like, "Waaaay, I wrote that".

I've chased the mosquito away with a desk fan. My genius knows no bounds.

Bring Back The Scouse

People these days seem to have forgotten just how much of a genius I am. That, I have to be honest, is my fault. I haven't been flexing my genius muscles because I've been so preoccupied but I think I should just dump some wisdom on you peasants.

The World Cup has just started and we've seen a lot of crazy games. The craziest though has to be the demolishing of Spain, 5-1 by the high flying Dutchmen. Spain put their faith in Diego Costa which I guess was a wise move but he's untried on such a huge platform. On the bench they had Fernando Torres, someone who has been a footballing wunderkind but has since fallen right off the wagon. Torres has failed miserably as a striker over the last few years and I think it's time I laid out how we should go about getting him back up.

When Torres was at Liverpool, I hated him. I hated the fact that he played for Scouser scum and I hated the fact he was such a genius football player. I hated that he was a little uncouth. I hated that he could score so many brilliant goals and after the match he'd throw up in your mom's favourite flower pot. He was a scouse and didn't care. I loved Torres. When he came to Chelsea, it all changed. He was brought into a highbrow London club that was prissy and high street. We would not accept acting out. What!? You're at Chelsea and you think you can come onto the field without your pinky in the air?! By Jove! We snuffed the scouser out of Torres and that's where we went wrong. We tried to rehabilitate him and in that he lost himself.

You see, Fernando Torres has given up. You look at this and you're like, "Yeah Msizi, you speak truth my man. You're a genius and I don't question it." But some of you may look at that and say, "Msizi, you ethereal man of knowledge, surely you of all people know that Torres hasn't given up. He trains so hard and gives off so much on the field, just because he isn't scoring, doesn't mean you have to be harsh." And you know what, both of you are right but I'm not talking about on the field. I'm talking about in life. Torres has a pair of hair clippers in his locker room. Those are the same clippers Jose used to shave his own hair into a tennis ball and so came the decline of Chelsea's field antics. When a man cuts his own hair, he's given up. What in you must die for you to think, "You know what, I don't really feel like going out of my way to consult a professional stylist, do something to my hair and deal with the up keep. I'll just shave it here at home because it's easier to manage". When has easier to manage ever been good? If living an "easier to manage" life was the best then we'd all be driving diesel 7 seater MPVs and we'd only wear beige and olive green tracksuit pants and polo necks. When you give up on your appearance, you give up on yourself. When Torres cut his hair, his decline to the bottom of the barrel was imminent. The fire died the day he bought the clippers out.

My best friend Fernando Torres has become too comfortable. He earns around £175 000 a week and you know what, he deserves it. He's done so well in his life to command that kind of pay package but it's become too much. What we need to do to bring back our old 'Nando is to put him on the dole. His family can still benefit from his high pay, don't let innocent people suffer but Torres must start from the bottom, all over again. Take him back to his scouser roots, where he played like a machine. Living on the high street has made him soft. Take away his Aston Martin, make him pull a Mancini and ride a bike to training. Use the bus. The only time he should be around his beautiful beast of a machine is when he's washing it. Wax on, wax off. It worked for the Karate Kid so it most definitely work for a talent like Torres.

Also, the biggest problem is that, I don't think 'Nando can speak english so well. This is also a good thing though because then he can't fully understand what his haters are saying but that also means he can't understand what his team mates are saying. The thing about London is that it has become a multi-ethnic melting pot of diversity. He can get away with being comfortable not speaking English, no one will judge him. Back in Liverpool, people are too thick to learn new languages so he had to suffer and learn the language and in his suffering, he became a football king. If Gary Cahill is gonna clear the ball from the back and Torres is in a position to get the ball over the head of the last defender, ol' Gazza can't suddenly learn Spanish in that short time and say, "El Fernando, los ballos over die headen! Arriba!". It's not gonna happen. He's gonna be like, "Oi Fezza, get ya'self out 'nd o'er t last man, squire" but Nando can't understand that so he'll fall back and the ball will go over and the keeper will get it. Also, when he scores a goal - which he does and they're beautiful - he can't celebrate fully because SUCK MY DICK just doesn't translate well into Spanish.

So basically, what we need to do, to get our Torres back is to really work on his whole appearance and how people perceive him. At Liverpool, his best mate was an Englishman so it's important that this happens again. At Liverpool he had the best hair of anyone and it's important that this happens again. At Liverpool he worked hard behind the scenes and it's important this happens again. We need to stop looking at Torres as someone who came and became a flop of money because that is simply not true. He is still a giant talent and I feel there's a lot that he can offer on and off the field. Torres just came in at a time where things were changing and he got left behind because no one understood him. The only man who could've taken him into the future was Anceloti and he was sacked before he could walk 'Nando through. I believe that if you gave me 6 months with Torres, I could bring you what we've all been needing to see from the man. Spanish Football is dead now, we need to move on to the future. We need to bring back the scouser.

Comfort Eejit

What are you doing up here so late? When last did we see your face around these parts. You've been scare old friend. Where have you been, it's almost like you did not exist.

Oh, you won't tell me where you've been? Well that's ok. It's not like I don't already know. I was with you. You know I was with you. You know I was with you because you called for me. You called for me and you never stopped, I just wish you would've come for me. You know where I was. I stood by you each and every time. The rise and the fall. You've come out from your inequities. You don't see it yet but you're bolder, stronger, in tune with that which you thought was lost.

You're still not impressed though are you. Silly old friend. You're still wrapped up in things that steal your time. I can see that you see and seeing that I see you see yourself being done with it all. That's the mark. That's the stride you'll take once more. Strong foot and steady step, they guide you. I see you old friend, on your resurrection. You were lost but never alone. I was beside you, always will be.

Dry Wall Tastes Better Than This.

You know, I've spent a good deal of time thinking about this. I've spent literal moments of time agonizing over how any of this could work out this way? How can something take such a dire turn in events and end up like this. Something doesn't make sense here. Someone isn't quite fully here.

I think I've been called every name there is to be called in this situation and you know what, I'm sure I'm deserving of some of it. I'm sure I've done enough to warrant some of the things you hold against me and that's ok, I know that and I've owned up to that. But what I don't get is how it's so easy for you to take all that, without pause or question, and take it up as the absolute truth. That's just something I've always failed to understand. I'm the kind of person who likes to understand something. I want to know the reason behind something. I want to see the strings that control the puppetry. I fail to see that in you. I fail to see the need to fully understand a concept, to take it further than as what it's laid before you to be but to know it as a whole idea. I've wondered about this for so long now.

Why do I say this? Well it's simple really. Every time we've had some sort of fall out, it's been a barrage laid at me with a whole, "me against the world" type attitude. The go-to stance of those in fear. It took me a while to notice - although I don't know why when all the signs were there. The countless times I'd been told about this, you'd swear I'd have had it under wraps - and really that came to bite me hard on the soft globes. Granted everyone will do what is necessary to do in a situation to make sure they come out on top. That's just basic self preservation and I'm guilty of that. The easiest thing to do though when faced with something you don't quite fully understand or feel comfortable with is to try tear it down and lash against it. We fear what we don't understand and I can only conclude that's what you were doing. You told me many times that you feared I could destroy you and if I really wanted to then I'm sure I could have but the simple truth here is that you played as much an active role in all this as I did. Never once was my intention for anything bad to come out of this. Not once did I say, "You know what, I'm gonna set out now and do my best to get under this person's skin, really play with their emotions for my own personal ends." Not once did I see this as something to take lightly. The whole playing with emotions deal is a serious thing and a lot of damage can be done.

I think I got wound up into this web a whole lot quicker than I would've liked and yes, for that I can commend you but I can't give you all the credit. I definitely left my defenses way low down. I came into this with no fore-thought. Not a single alarm went off in my head, nothing. Whether it was me being unbelievably trusting and willing to be open or just a lapse of complete concentration, I don't know but something in my mind never really clicked for me to wade with caution. And caution for what? What's the worst thing that could possibly happen. Since when did anything bad happen to Msizi! I'm fine. I'm always fine and always will be, that's the beauty and tragedy of being me. No matter how much something truly does affect me, I'll never let on. Right now this could be seen as me showing that all of this bothered me more than I'd like to admit but on the other side of the coin, this could just be me playing a game. All of this could've been one gigantic farce. Those are two quite real possibilities. It's sad and fascinating at the same time.

It's a bit sad though innit? I mean both of us could turn around and play either one of those roles, whether it meant something or whether it didn't and the other party would accept it. Like I know you may one day read this and think, "ah this eejit is speaking trash, I said what I said that night and he forgot and now he's got the audacity to say all this!?" and in a way you'd be right to react that way but also you'd have no right to at all. Because when it comes down to it, I didn't choose to end up the way I did that night, not once did I expect for that to happen and besides that, the fact that you never once brought it up goes to show that even if it did all mean as much as you said it did, it couldn't have meant that much at all if you could suddenly turn cold to it like that. That's really all that gets to me. The whole, "Well if things don't follow this set path then it's just not it" mentality you follow. I can see how it works and such but that narrow scope is more damaging in the long run than anything and I really hope one day you see it.

I harbour no ill feeling towards you but I don't have any others. Whether you're friend or foe I do not know, I guess it depends on the day right now. We have no communication and if that's how it is then so be it, I don't feel strongly about whether we do or don't because both have their benefits and their pitfalls. I told myself to take a step back and see if anything would come from your side and nothing did and so that's that. Although that's also quite dumb of me to be making assumptions, something I so strongly hate, but sometimes you just have to go with it. For the record I kept it 100% with you, whether it was blind devotion or what, I don't know but that's what it was. I'm not upset or anything either, this post really probably won't even be seen by you and that's great. I didn't write it for that. It was just a closing thought, one I may have completely wrong, one I may not. Who knows. I just have ultimo peace right now and that's really what the purpose of this thing was. It was for me.

Anyway, I've lost my train of thought and no, this isn't some attempt to take on your character or what not, it's just my simple rant on something I can only understand, simply.

Dialogue between Oliver and Jordana after their break up.

OLIVER:- Jordana!
Jordana!
It is you.
I didn't think it'd be you. I...
I thought it'd be like a film
where the girl turns round and it's not the...
You've got a new dog. You're allergic.

JORDANA:- Oliver.

OLIVER:- Where's your boyfriend?

JORDANA:- He's not my boyfriend

OLIVER:- Your skin's looking bad, terrible.
It's probably the dog.

JORDANA:- I don't care about my fucking skin.

OLIVER:- Why on earth did you get a new dog?

JORDANA:- Because I like dogs, OK?
Why are you such a total dick?

OLIVER:- I don't know.
I was crying earlier. My eyes are probably red.

JORDANA:- They look fine.

OLIVER:- No, well, maybe they don't go red when I cry.
It happens to some.

JORDANA:- You were horrible to me.

OLIVER:- I know. I made a mistake.
I made a mistake.

JORDANA:- What do you want me to say?

OLIVER:- Ask me how deep the ocean is.

JORDANA:- Shut up.

OLIVER:- Go on, just ask me

JORDANA:- Why?

OLIVER:- Because I know the answer.

JORDANA:- Oh, do you?

OLIVER:- Yeah. I do.

JORDANA:- How deep?

OLIVER:- I'm not going to say.

JORDANA:- I'm broken-hearted.

OLIVER:- The ocean is six miles deep.

JORDANA:- Good.