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Acknowledgements: To all who follow my work as a writer, my life as a journalist and my craft as an artist. To all who have believed in me over the years, to all who I have loved and all who have loved me. I write for you all in thanks and appreciation for the shoulders I have cried on, the hugs we have shared and the moments to come which I await with high anticipation. LeAwesomish Part 1 The sun was setting in the horizon. Sandra Fair stood by the railings of her twelfth store apartment balcony, staring at it even though the still bright rays of spring sunlight still stung her eyes. It had been a long and trying day at the news desk. Nothing had gone as planned, and her story was not coming together at all. She walked back inside and headed for the kitchen – undressing along the way. The joys of living alone, she mused to herself as she grabbed a beer, jerked off the cap, tilted her head back and took three large gulps before logging into Facebook and check what wa

My world has spiraled out of control. It seems that the more I try find some or other form of happiness, the faster the walls around me close in on me. All I want is to find contentedness within myself - yet all I manage to walk into are doors leading to nowhere. They say varsity's the best times of our lives - but I've known more heartache and suffering than joy over the past two years here. Someday, it wall all be okay. That's what I keep telling myself. On this very day, however, that last sentence means absolute toad-shit to me. Annabelle and I are still friends - although it pains me seeing her with her lover. My academics have deteriorated at a very rapid pace, and I cannot for the life of me remember the last time I was happy. I've tried - but I honestly can't. But it's like I said, someday it will all be okay. Love, Christopher.

Diary Entry 1 It's never been the heart that walks away from a bad situation completely shattered. Every day of lives, through good and bad experiences - the plethora of bullshit, surrounded by moments of sheer joviality - there lies a common factor in every scenario, every endeavor, every moment we find ourselves enslaved by: the soul...   I sat there tonight with Annabelle pondering internally whether this woman had a heart at all. It was not until the final moments of our visit where I realized that I had been grappling with the wrong question. It is not her heart that has been broken, it's her spirit - her will to be a better person has been tarnished by the cruelties of this world.   There are certain things she said which I will take with me to the grave; things that will haunt me until my last hour. Letting go of her is one of the hardest things I ever had to do - but the latter would have resulted in a catastrophic explosion which would have destroyed me. S

I've never been a winner. It's a reality I have to deal with every minute of every single day spent on a constant bullshit spree that doesn't really capture the truth of who I am. Who am I? This is a story that dates back to a moment when my life changed completely. Flashback >>>DECEMBER 2011<<< Flashback Congratulations, Mr Tlou. You have been provisionally accepted into the Journalism and Media Studies 2 course for the year 2012. Back to reality!!!!!!!! My life changed quite rapidly from that afternoon onwards. I made the conscious decision to drink a lot less and become the ideal student. I had been afforded a second chance to make right the ills I had committed in that extremely eventful year. I came back to Rhodes, a reasonably changed man. The thing about change is that ... well, is that it's not easy to keep at. "If you keep on doing what you've always done, you'll keep on being what you've always been. Nothing ch

 Lebogang Tlou Democracy A democracy is “A system of government by the whole population; or all the eligible members of a state, typically through elected representatives.” The first part of the dictionary meaning for the term democracy is as broad and impractical as the actual practice and application thereof. A state cannot be governed by all within it. All can have a say, but not all have the opportunity to “exert will” or “improve” on their lives – as Amartya Sen suggests. There lies a great chasm between having the right to speak your voice and having the means to follow up on what you voted for – especially in the context of Democracy. There are no guide books or directions to applying democratic practise in a socio-political atmosphere. Amartya Sen argues that ” in any age and social climate, there are some sweeping beliefs that seem to command respect as a kind of general rule--like a “default” setting in a computer program; they are considered right unless their c

I cannot explain how I do it - not really. I just do. It all works out at the end of the day; somehow, it all works out. Like a Phoenix, I seem to rise out from the ashes and survive to fight more battles where the odds are steadily stacked against me. And at the end of it all, when the dust clears and the sun shines through all the confusion, I find myself one inch closer to the end of the tunnel. I can honestly still see the light. It's right there! But I'm here. This is the story of how I got here. Overview December 2011. It finally came in the post! The letter confirming that I had been accepted into Journalism and Media Studies 2 in my hand, I remember sitting back and thanking God for that stroke of luck; and I promised not to let him down. I sometimes feel as though I broke that promise. You see, I came back to Rhodes cocky beyond measure and extremely reckless. I worked my way right to the very edge of the Cliff of Failure  - where I proceeded to dance quite

The Democratic Alliance discovers destroyed textbooks in the Limpopo province on 23 June, 2012. Picture: HelenZille/Twitter - Provided by Eye Witness News online ‎"Relationship between Minister Motshekga and EduSolutions needs to be probed ..." - Annette Lovemore I totally agree with this. This follows the very little display of social outrage that Basic Education Minister Angie Motshekga: 1. Failed to fulfill her portfolio as a Minister of the State by providing equipment necessary for basic education in Limpopo! 2. Attempted to shift the blame of this MONUMENTAL BALLS UP onto Anis Korodia  http://www.iol.co.za/news/politics/motshekga-didn-t-fire-administrator-1.1326170#.T-eE8bU0Of4  . . . Bad Move, Angie!!!! NEWSFLASH: YOU, nay Mr Korodia, are the MINISTER FOR BASIC EDUCATION!!!! And the captain always goes down with the ship! What's done is done - OWN THE HELL UP and start fixing this mess! 3. Lied! Yes, politicians lie like - we all know that! But if you'r

It was a peaceful, quiet winter's night. Charlie and Annabelle sat sharing a mug of hot chocolate - he on a chair by the window of his room, smoking a cigarette; she on the edge of his bed with the mug of coffee in her small hands. There had never been a silence so awkward between them. It hovered densely in the air around them as a light breeze blew in through the open window. Charlie, not liking silence at all, interuppted it by childishly blowing a raspberry at Annabelle. "Really? And you wonder why I'm calling this quits?" She scoffed. "Look, Belle, you're really being ridiculous about all this." He said calmly. "So I thwarted your evil plan to disgrace me - it happens! You can't always come out on top . . ." Annabelle rose furiously at this and was in his face before he knew it. She grabbed him by the hair, ignoring his protests of agony, and pulled his face up to her own. "I ... ALWAYS ... win!" She snarled,

South African Prisoners granted a lucky break... This article -  http://www.grocotts.co.za/content/gtown-cops-brace-wave-ex-prisoners-28-05-2012  - should not have been publicized for numerous reasons! 200 prisoners will be released in the coming weeks in accordance with President Zuma's "remission of sentences to alleviate overcrowding in South African prisons" (Grocott's Mail Online, 28 May 2012) initiative. I believe that this should have been done in secret. Yes, people will say that they have the "Right to Know" if ex-prisoners will be roaming the streets so that they can take necessary steps in protecting themselves. With that said, who's going to hire an ex-prisoner? Who's going to give them a chance at redemption? Rhodes? Can you imagine the outrage if it comes out that Rhodes hired ex-prisoners? Hi-tech? Ha! And Grahamstownians will feel safer knowing their safety's in the hands of robbers and thieves, right? And so w

His is big, black and filled with enough flavor to build and fulfill the needs of entire nations. Mine, on the other hand, is not. I sit and stare at it for several moments. The Size. The Smell. It's all appalling to the senses. I stand and begin to twirl it around in my fingers. How I wish I had gotten a bigger one. Much like the one my friend got ... He who sits there, oblivious to the world, enjoying his sausage - greedily stuffing his mouth full of it. I love sausage - but this is a joke!

I'm not a hero. But seeing some of my friends up there at the altar last night at the 1in9 silent protest changed my life. Too many people are hurting in silence. Too many people are being caused to hurt in silence. Well, the silence has been broken! There are three things I will not stand for in this life: Rape Woman and Child Abuse Ignorance I cannot stop rape, nor can I stop men from beating on women and children. What I can remedy is the ignorance. What I can help stop is the increase of ignorance on the subject matter. Rape is WRONG. Violence is WRONG. Be a real man. REAL MEN DON'T RAPE.

Songbird I wish to tell you a little story. Once upon a time, in a province very far away from that whence he came from, a young man embarked on a life-changing journey of a lifetime: he sought out in search for ... "The One"! If the legends were true, there existed somewhere in the world One individual with the power to sooth all of one's woes and erase their past - replacing it with a solid present and a promising future. Poets wrote of their power, artists brought it to life in vivid paintings and musicians have encapsulated its wonder in many a lyric. The young man sought after Love in its purest form ... Untainted and still in tact. Months down the line, he gave up the search. He had instead found rot and decay in the hearts and souls of many of those whom he had hoped would help him along his journey to discovering the greatest treasure of all. He had found locusts and disease in the pools from which he sought to quench his thirst, and he had found nothing but

History has a very unique way of repeating itself. Almost two hundred years ago, a new, John set anchor on the shores of the Eastern Cape. John had no idea what he had gotten himself into when he strode across the sands to the edge of the wood - where he encountered a very strange looking man of a most peculiar darker hue than that to which he was accustomed. He found it stranger still that this man seemed to be wearing nothing more than a loin-cloth, and clutched his spear very close to his chest as though cautious that the approaching strangers.  Little did he know at that time that his world and that of the natives would soon encounter drastic changes through some of the most ferocious battles over land, identity and freedom. Almost two hundred years later, I find myself in the same situation John was in; being a stranger in a whole new world, with very little in common with the natives and engaged in constant clashes over space, identity and right of way.

He sees her. She sees him staring, and stares right back. She sees right through his charming smile, hears right through his sugary words and feels his well-hidden heart beating insanely as she draws nearer to him. He starts shaking ... She is so close now. He can see her shiny, almond-shaped eyes. He can trace the oulines of her perfectly shaped lips. He can feel the radiance emmited by her warm, inviting smile. Now, face to face, they simply stare at each other. Strangers ... united by a common feeling of passionate oneness. Looking him directly in the eyes, she takes his hands and wraps them around her own. Keeping her gaze, he bows his head and kisses her exposed fingertips. Seconds turn to minutes, minutes turn to hours; days ... years pass. He wakes up, old. He reaches for her hand.

who can disbute your beauty i see with my own i's in you, all you, hold you, feel you close to me... when i look at you i smile and i gleam with grace and affection, yet all you do is me hurt. i now know no completion, fullfilment, happiness, bliss love. only the emptiness, cold, pain. how can one created to love live only to break me

my flowers are dying . . . flowers, such as myself, live off of love . . . they are dying . . . as am i.

By: Lebogang Tlou There are very few things that Stephan Pine wanted in life; being with Amanda was the only one he openly admitted to. He often bragged about what a great man he was because of her to his colleagues at the firm when he still worked there. He had always felt normal when he was around her, always felt like he had found a home at long last. He promised her that he would be hers for ever, and he intended to keep that promise. That was the one thing on his mind when he got off the taxi cab and walked into his new garage. He had decided to move out of his made-over tool shed-turned-backroom in his parents’ backyard months earlier, but had never gotten around to moving in to this place until now. Moving out had been a huge emotional blow. His parents’ house was all he had left of theirs, but he had to move out. It had to be done. It was the only way to prove to Amanda that he wasn’t as useless as she had made him out to sound in their last conversation. He had to show he