Lost

Thunderous echos within
Fading; A staccato rhythm to it’s beat.

A little girl; lost within the ashen chambers,
of a palace once rose red and filled with hope.

Lost

Forgiven but never forgotten,
her past transgressions torment her

Lost within the woman she is yet to become,
she curls up in a corner;
clutching a ratty blanket of memories to her form.

A mediocre form of protection.

Anything to keep warm,
Anything to keep safe,
from the bitter coldness that now torments her every waking moment,
from the demons that now plague her soul.

The bitter coldness, that causes the adolescent that she is still is;
to teeter..
on the edge of madness,
to spread her arms open in jubilation..
to welcome the darkness within

So cold.
So very cold.

Lost within the child she has now become,
the woman clings to her sanity
and her childlike innocence..

Her belief in the promise of tomorrow;
A beacon that lights her way, pulling her away from the edge.

Still,
She stumbles and falls; succumbing to the little broken girl inside of her.
Tears falling; bright red against the stark whiteness of her surroundings.

A rose red; the same colour that her now ashen palace of dreams, once was.

Life

It’s all about the choices we make, the chances we take .. And the people we don’t break

People fight so hard to gain freedom, freedom to make their own choices , to follow paths not set out for them but they do not know the consequences of choice. They do not realize that our paths have already been predetermined and perhaps not by some higher deity but by our actions,our words our very sense of being

What is the sense of self , one can ask?
Only you will know, another can reply.

As people, we know, no-one better than we know ourselves.
Best friends , partners, lovers, siblings, family members …
They are all an extension of ourselves

They know us but they can never truly KNOW us as we know ourselves.
We doubt ourselves , we question , we rationalize to such extents that we are left feeling raw and vulnerable. We are left with question upon question, seeking solace in someone other than ourselves, hoping they can identify the person within us. The real being inside.

What if?, one always asks when an opportunity arises
You will never know unless you take the chance, another can say

As people know, there are once in a lifetime opportunities that life tends to hand us on a silver platter. I suppose it’s an “I’m sorry” of sorts from life.
However some refuse to take the chance
Be it on life itself, love and other things.

Our pessimistic viewpoint tells us that it won’t work out, subduing the little optimistic voice inside us that whispers “What If?”, so quietly it might not have been heard, except for the faint quickening of your heartbeat that for a millisecond, the imagined the possibilities

The possibilities are as limitless as the universe, it’s all about the choices we make.

We cannot traverse through this crazy ride we call life without breaking people along the way. Failed relationships , complications, trysts, feuds with family or now ex friends. However there are the few that remain who we don’t break. Who are either similar in mannerisms to us, or who suck it up to be around us. There are the best friends, the family who never exactly had a choice, the crushes and those that just accept you for who you are.

What makes a person break, one can ask one self?
The same things that could break you, another could answer.

We are all wired so differently it’s amazing we are compatible with one another. The mind set of some lead me to believe that there may not be hope left for generations to come, that too many will be cynically hardened by life and will refuse to take that once in a lifetime chance , based on one experience when they have a lifetime to create better memories if it had to fail.

As people who have been broken, and have in turn broken others. We know what to expect so we either shut any form of emotion out of our lives or we keep trying ever so desperately to find the right person, both causing a destruction of self that we can never really recover from.

Why do we do this? Is it a form of protection? Why not take the chance and see what happens?

As people who have been broken, and have in turn broken others. We need to be aware of not only the destruction of self but the duality of self. The duality of self is one that cannot be denied or repressed. Life requires balance. A ying to its counterpart of yang, good to bad , right to wrong.

You end up repressing half of your being based on an unpleasant experience. You should be rational enough to know that by repressing yourself, you would be killing yourself. Not only killing yourself but closing yourself off to new experiences and memories which would be detrimental to your spirit.

Live life. Breathe. Make mistakes. Learn. Take a chance. Be happy.

___________

I’m well aware of my own duality and it’s not something I bother fighting because fighting what I am serves no purpose. All it does is slow me down. I’ve learnt to take care with my choices , take chances on people and things, how to break and how to handle being broken, without repressing the saint and sinner within.

Free

I think it’s ironic, a day after posting about how I couldn’t get over him.

I do

The feelings are there but it’s intensity have cooled to semi arctic levels.
Admittedly, when I saw him I thought I lost my mind, turned my car around and headed back into the utter chaos of the shopping center I had just left.

I had lost all sanity and reason in that moment , not knowing what else to do, the need to see his face when he saw me and realized he could not escape giving me a straight forward answer overwhelmed me. I walked , paced , trying to find him. Trying to get this explanation I thought I needed. When I realized, he wasn’t alone in the car when I saw him, and if I’m not mistaken he was with his ex.

The realization hit me and I understood, I wondered what choice I would have made if placed in a similar position?

I’m glad to be back in my own skin, so to speak.

I’m grateful to him for the lessons I’ve learnt about myself and how I view others, my own natural intensity as I try to chase the illusion of happiness.
While meanwhile happiness was within my grasp, held by my subconscious mind all along.

I’m grateful he provided to be the muse I needed to start with my writing again, that jump start, that spark that took away the mental block my mind had built up as I submerged myself in my studies.

I’m grateful to realize I have plenty of wonderful people in my life, who helped me with my momentary loss of sanity and common sense. I thank these people, my darling Nuky, my dear Wabsy, Il mio agellino, poor Michael ( who resorted to mentioning my “hexing” first days of high school ) , my sometimes not so charmingly greek companion who provided ample distraction when I needed it and a few others that I won’t name

I am strong enough to face anything life throws at me, I hadn’t done anything that necessitated a karmic reaction, I just chose the wrong person to look after my heart and spirit.

But for now, I’m glad that I am free.

Next time 🙂 I’ll sic Nuky on the guy first, just to make sure he has the right intentions XD

“No more tears, my heart is dry
I don’t laugh and I don’t cry
I don’t think about you all the time
But when I do – I wonder why” – The Reckoning Song ; Asaf Avidan

Tupperware party for your “pantry”

Disclaimer : The content of this post may offend younger/ sensitive readers. It is sexual in nature and I will not be held liable if you continue to read the content of this post.

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So today in class a friend brought along a catalogue for the more kinkier things in this life. A nicer way of saying it would be to say we had a “Tupperware Party”, so on the off chance I ever mention going to a Tupperware party always ask if it’s a tupperware Tupperware party or a “TUPPERWARE Tupperware ” party ( yes, there’s a difference )

I licked lube today and I liked it ( yes read that again cause i did) and I’m not ashamed to admit it ( admittedly I won’t be telling my parents that), during the period before my Italian lecture. XD

It was this heating lube that heated up the more you rubbed it ( friction is good apparently) and when you blew on it, dios mio! Way to start a party in your pants( in normal circumstances ). Even the taste is fantastic , seriously who doesn’t love strawberries and cream???

Okay, before you get your knickers/boxers in a bunch, I licked it off of my own hand so no “wet weather” occurred nor was it an orgy in class but seriously, I have an imagination just like everyone else does so I could imagine what it could do ( digging myself into a deeper hole here but hey, honesty counts)

My genius friend who brought it and a few other choice items to class to show us some of the products she is selling ( No vibes – seriously people,sharing is NOT caring in terms of vibes)

So besides the lube ( and trust me it gets really weird when people tell you to lick your hand and you KNOW you have lube on it and you think they’re taking you for an ass but you do it anyway and are mildly/pleasantly surprised by the taste before going to the bathroom to WASH your hands, nothing more than that), we tested out some other products including the most amazing little roll on bottle of pheromones ever!!!

It apparently helps you seem more attractive to members if the opposite sex( and those who bat for the same team) and surprise surprise it works.
It was tested on people( women) in retail/waitressing and they are more likely to make sales/be tipped more while wearing it, in comparison to those without it on.

I have this fruity/ floral scent ( that i personally think is amazing) while another friend smelt slightly exotic, like the perfect blend of the most expensive eastern spices. There were originally 4 girls in the class and 1 guy and we all tried it, but the guys smell was kind of muted but when we tried it on another male classmate his scent was AMAZING, the first guy couldn’t believe that all 4 girls reacted in such a way to the 2nd classmates scent ( and was a bit miffed – lol ) but he smelt amazing, it’s indescribable.

This stuff works better than axe( in my opinion) , then again at R260 per 10.2 ml bottle, it better work a lot better.

Something that bothers me though, is peoples reactions to sex stuff in general, dear god people it’s sex, it’s not going to kill you ( but what a way to go). Reactions range from amusement to disgust and I just don’t get it. Why be disgusted? Honestly the stork never brought you to your parents nor were you a “monkey on the mountain” or whatever else your parents may have told you.

The fact that sex toys and lubes etc exist should be a good thing and not something looked down upon, at the end of the day woman get as much pleasure from them as men do and there are probably more woman using toys than men. Although some men believe woman who use toys have higher expectations ( because c’mon a battery lasts kinda long in comparison ) but they’re man enough to accept it .

Just have fun ( and none of that “YOLO” crap ), be safe and be aware of what your actions are.

Pissed off and Disappointed

I admit, I wrote this piece in quite a rage on Saturday night and I didn’t want to publish it as  post simply because it might or might not hurt the person in questions feelings but then again, my feelings deserve to be heard and acknowledge too and I won’t and can’t let this fester inside me anymore.

I’m not that mad anymore, merely disappointed and I know I would’ve understood a helluva lot more if I just got a simple message saying “Look, I can’t come sorry”

That’s all.

I’d like to hope things can be patched up, I mean I’m not the easiest friend to have but then again if it’s not….  To quote a very wise bear from one of his twitter tweetings,

TED ‏

@TedInRealLife :I’ve learned not to chase after anyone anymore. You want to walk out of my life? Go ahead, I’ll hold the door.

 

Wise words from a wise bear, don’t you think?

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I’m  honestly just so pissed off right now I’m torn between crying and screaming.

There are things we do for friends or people we care about, but there are also things we do to and or for others. Common curtsey dictates that when I make plans for you to stay over almost TWO weeks in advance (and getting my dad to like one of my friends is a pain in the ass, so if he likes you then well DAMN) and you decide to go do whatever it is your doing without even a message, shows exactly what you think of me and yes, I may be freaking out about something “trivial” but when you know someone that always replies and you’re stuck watching time pass waiting for a reply, you obviously start to worry.

She was meant to arrive after 1, I messaged her at 12.30 no reply. I ask her brother where she is at 2 and she’s out shopping. My messages deliver in consecutive order as the hours pass by and I’m starting to freak the fuck out but no, no message not even a freaking facebook message. It’s almost 7pm and she finally messages me to let me know she’s home safe and sound after being out shopping.

Hello. If  I make plans with you don’t DARE cancel on me almost FIVE HOURS later! I could’ve spent my day doing something else instead of waiting for you! My mother wanted to go to a yearly church bazaar but no, my friend was coming so we had to wait. My mother never willingly baked for my other friends nor would she go out of her way to prep things for supper and take out meats etc for a awesome breakfast the next day.

Don’t dare give me any form of pathetic excuse for not even a single message. If you weren’t with someone who was either a) holding a gun to your head or b) attempting to commit suicide or even c) having a baby don’t dare not send a message. Heck I’d even understand if your other friend got dumped and needed retail therapy don’t NOT say a single word to me until the sun has already set.

I actually like to think I CARE about my friends so don’t EVER think to call yourself my friend if you didn’t even have the decency to let me know you won’t be coming over.

I think I’m honestly more disappointed than anything else and if you don’t want to spend time with me, say so because quite frankly I refuse to let you or anyone else turn me into one of those typically pathetic kids we see on American TV shows, you know which ones I’m talking about, the loser waiting for her classmates to come over for a party but no-one shows up? Yeah that’s not me nor will it ever be me.

Sad realization is that I think I was turned into that pathetic kid on TV. Subconsciously I had relegated myself to that role and the person who would normally never disappoint me, was the cool kid who never showed up.

Thanks for that feeling.

It means a lot to me, especially knowing how expendable my feelings and time is in your little world.

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As you can see, I was pissed of beyond belief but I think I’m okay now that it’s off my chest.

How you react, well …

That’s your choice.

 

 

 

 

Chasing the illusion

What is happiness?

The Web definition of Happiness:
state of well-being characterized by emotions ranging from contentment to intense joy.wordnetweb.princeton.edu/perl/webwn

And I’m not talking about that first taste of chocolate or that ice cream cone that made your day, nor am I talking about a hug or a smile from a friend or the completion of a task.

I’m talking about the happiness that can stem from another person into you. The happiness that is supposedly found in relationships. The happiness people long for and dream of once it’s gone; because they never realized its worth, until it isn’t there anymore.

I’m lonely, I’ll admit to it but I will never compromise my “search” for happiness for “instant gratification”.  My best friend had lectured me so severely one day, I had moaned about “needing” a man in my life to make me happy, I was told I didn’t need a man in my life to be happy and even if I had one, I needed to learn to be happy by myself first.

She was right, and I am. I’m happy on my own. Sure I’ll look at guys and dream but that’s just it – a DREAM.  I don’t feel the need or desire to chase this illusion of happiness that some seem to have found. I don’t find myself having those school girl crush moments anymore. It’s like I’ve become old before my time but I’m grateful because it’s given me wisdom which is more useful to me now, than in hindsight.

There are so many women who chase this illusion and to be honest, there’s nothing wrong with hoping and praying for a better and brighter tomorrow with someone by your side, I’ve done it often enough – and I sometimes STILL so it. It’s just when as a woman you start to believe you are fated to be unhappy, you start believing in all those silly online pictures and quotes from pre-pubescent teenagers who haven’t even lived for 2 decades or people long gone.

This would never be written by any boy; It was sent to me by a friend

Is it really worth it? Being in a relationship just for that rush of happiness you feel, a rush akin to that of an adrenaline junkie taking that first step into empty air, falling, a scream voiced from the very depths of your being torn away from you by the wind as you come closer and closer, at an alarming rate to the unforgiving harshness of still waters, just to be yanked back up again by the bungee cord. Is it really worth it?

Especially if you’re taking advice from someone telling you not to give all of you? Is that really an attempt at an everlasting happiness with another or only a way to ensure that something is bound to go wrong? Even if things go wrong eventually, you should be able to say, I TRIED, I PROMISE I didn’t attempt to sabotage it on purpose.

Wise words but are they conducive to finding happiness with another?

Is that when it becomes more about falling in happiness rather than actually being happy? The first few days or even weeks of any relationship are always the happiest. It’s the “honeymoon” phase and eventually, reality will set in. Sometimes it CAN and WILL last but other times, especially when it seems like all you’re after is the initial happy high, doubt (and paranoia)  sinks in and you refuse to get your heart involved, causing a bit of a traffic jam between your mind, heart and soul.

Is that when it becomes more about chasing the illusion of happiness rather than actual happiness? When you start to reminisce about a past in which you were happy, that’s when issues tend to arise because your present misery could never compete with your past, especially if all you recall are the happier moments and not what lead you to your current predicament. The only thing that could ever trump your past and present combined would be your future, which remains unwritten and can only be determined by you.

I’d rather wait for happiness or even work for it, for real eternal happiness, in the  oversized waiting room we call life than spend my time chasing a mere illusion until the doctor calls to tell me my time is at an end.

What is more important I wonder?

To BE happy Or To LIVE happily for a period of time?

Typically Indian

Typicallly Indian

Right, so everyone knows the stereotypical Asian parent that only wants straight A students, with a glitteringly bright career in medicine or sciences or even law, as children.

Quite frankly, they aren’t the only ones with that stereotype attached to their names.

In an Indian family (here in South Africa at least, if you tell your father you want to study anything other than a law, medical or business/accountancy degree it’s like a mini world war 3 in your home.

I personally had no aptitude for business or accounting so conflict arose at the end of my Grade 9 Year as Subject choices for the following three years would be taking place.

The 4 compulsory subjects where:

–          English

–          Afrikaans

–          Life orientation

And a choice between either

–          Mathematics or Mathematical Literacy

( Stern Indian father says – Mathematics, no questions, queries or arguments)

The subject choices my school offered:

–          Geography

–          Life Sciences (Biology)

–          Physical sciences

–          Computer Applications and Technology

–          Bussiness

–          Home economics

–          Accounting

And last but not least

–          Music (Only for students who had at least 3 years experience playing an instrument/could Sing)

Being 15 and confused (to an extent) I went with an obvious choice, Bio. Physics I took since I actually loved chemistry (and my father’s hopes for a doctor rose) and then came my final choice. Business and myself did not get along at all nor could I even begin to hope that I might be blessed with the typically Indian love for accounting and all things money, so I chose Computer Applications and Technology , Man did my father have a fit.

I mean my aunt was held up to me as some sort of Idol as she’s this big shot accountant or actuarial scientist or whatever. Even the son of one of my dads friends (The one I met at the career fair)as I’ve mentioned before HE was always off at uni or whatever being a brainiac actuarial-scientist –to-be  and he was always the “idol” held up to me, a girl with an Indian dad and one who wasn’t following the norm and doing anything in medical, financial or law related fields

Eventually my dad agreed, falling back on a long (self) nursed hope that I would study Law when the time came. It wasn’t like he was 7 credits short of graduating or anything. Also he knew I (in my intense boredom and love of reading) would read his Law textbooks and various case studies (as much as he used to complain about it, I knew he didn’t mind). High school almost at an end and I had to make my choice, filling in various application forms etc

My marks weren’t the best, but they were okay enough for me to gain acceptance into university.

When I told my dad I was doing a Bachelor of Arts degree, I thought he might have a stroke. When I told my dad I was taking only languages, foreign ones at that, I was certain he might just drop dead. Then came the arguments. About how wrong the degree was, and if I make nothing of it he’d cut me off. Eventually he came around to it though and well here I am.

Another beautiful example of an Indian stereotype in South Africa, “all” Durban Indian males drive a vehicle that’s been supped up to the max and have more gel in their hair than actual hair follicles.

As one my one friend said, He’s not Indian, “Cape Town Indians don’t drive a Toyota, there’s no gel in my hair and my car isn’t suped up like space craft and look! Proper pants”

Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like, if I let my parents live their dreams through me.

My choices may not be right, but they are my own.

As typically “un-Indian” as I may be, I’m content.

Nothing is worth more than that

On a side note: There is money to be made in translation and interpretation, so THERE! :p