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Hi. You know how just before you go to sleep in bed every night your mind goes off on a tangent? Like, your mind just zooms out of this physical world and enters this hazy state where you're in complete control. It just happened to me right now, before and right now as I type. Okay. I'm stopping that now. Stream of consciousness is the way forward. Anyway, I was off on one such tangent and in it I said the following to you: Hey, look. I like you. Like, in that mushy kind of way. Like, you make my heart happy. But that's not the best part. No, the Best part is that you have a mind-blowing mind! You do! I hear the words you speak - yes - but I feel the weight they bear. I just found 26 letters. Your words carry a strong sense of you-ness, and I feel it in me. And by 'I', I'm really referring to my own you-ness... My my-ness.  Okay, my mind just went on a tangent again, and I thought I'd cut that particular thought short for a second while I share an e

There's always wind. That day, it was gentle. Gentle , Leo remembered. And it had carried a faint scent of some or other especially sweet flower. The wind blew Nadine's hair into his face as she rested her own against his chest. She felt it heave as he inhaled. Deep Breath . The smell of her shampoo reminded him of a memory, but he wasn't sure which. He wished he had kissed her. But he understood why he couldn't. There had once been a time when he would have. But now he couldn't. And so he simply allowed himself to melt as deep into her embrace as he could. He wondered if she could feel everything he was experiencing. He closed his eyes as her's opened and closed again. She let herself sink into his arms. She wished he would kiss her. She pulled him closer and wished that he could somehow hear her thoughts. Kiss me,  she thought over and over again. She knew he wouldn't. Something told her that he would soon enough, but she knew he wouldn't have done it

Dear Future Girlfriend. I think I've found you. Your eyes light up and your smile beams every time our paths cross. I make sure our paths cross. Because your voice makes my ears wish they had legs so they can dance to the melodious symphonies written by each syllable you utter. I think you're her, and you're everything I have ever dreamed of in a partner. I'm still really afraid, though. What if  I am only seeing what my eyes wish to see most? What if this is all one-sided? I have known unrequited affection, and I have felt the rejection that comes with wearing your heart on your shoulder. Regardless, I still wish to see your eyes light up more. I wish to experience more of your smiles, and I wish to drown in your voice for so long as you'll have me as your friend. Thank you for finding me. Regards.

We're each and every single one of us lonely. We are. But it's okay. It's okay because even though we're lonely, we're not alone. Out here, in this physical world, we surround ourselves with the people we think we need. We are constantly given the option of having other lonely bodies about us to while away the ours until you no longer exist. But that isn't at all a grim image. I mean, we find the se bodies and they engage our minds and they take us on journeys to hitherto unexplored territories through imagined whirlwinds and realized avalanches. Perhaps in this physical world, our sole purpose is to find those lonely bodies that bring out the very best in us all. Imagine if you knew you were destined to be great. I know. I know you know. Time to remember. Wake up and REMEMBER.

I have disconnected from the things that once mattered to me. I find solace in being alone. With solitude comes absolutely none of the stress I once invited into my life. It's not that I don't care what happens in the lives of those around me - I have simply learned to care more for myself than I do about the 'other' ... With growth comes a shift in responsibility, and with this shift came the realization that all I have is myself at the end of the day. If I do not take care of me, who will?

It just occurred to me that every single one of us is lonely at some point or another during the day, and that I'm not the only one who feels this way. I think we often take it for granted that the person sitting next to us in a lecture or tutorial or that stranger we pass by in the street may be feeling what we ourselves are feeling. Remember Creche, when you used to play with everyone as though  they were your best friend? We all spoke a different language back then. Children's lives aren't complicated by insecurities. I'm not saying they're not there - but a child's main objective is to have fun. In playing Touchers or Stingers and Hide n Go Seek, they're basically fulfilling their objective irrespective of who's around them. By this I mean that these are rather inclusive games. Children know how to work together to attain their primary goals. It's only when we get older that we forget. There are heaps of insecurities because you get less tuck sh

Dear, Future Girlfriend. I hope never to get angry with you. I just witnessed an upsetting scene while perched in a little corner watching the world, wondering where you might be. Wherever you are, I hope you're well. The scene: a man parked his blue Polo outside the Union and started yelling at the female sitting beside him. His window was rolled down, and his tone was extremely harsh. It hurt  me. I heard something about "slapping" escape his enraged lips. He made me uncomfortable, and so did she. I hope I never yell at you. You're human and you have your faults, I know. I, too, have my faults. I pray that one I never grow to express is rage. I pray you never see me lose control of my passions. I wish you to know that I love you always - even when I'm upset. And I promise that when I am upset, I will address you as a human and never regard you as anything less than an equal. Because that is what you are to me: my equal. Soon you'll find me, and I cannot wai

Today, tomorrow, let your light shine. Inspire another to not only allow their own light to shine, but to in turn inspire others to do the same. I task you, my friends, with a simple challenge: find your light. Find your bliss and all who w itness this - your mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters from all over the world - will in turn see your happiness and inspire to it. Do not be afraid of Happiness.

You're existing. Now start experiencing. Allow yourself to feel. Feel the breeze on the back of your neck. Feel his breath flood your nostrils with warm words. Enjoy the feel off her soft hand accidentally brush against yours as she blows past you. And when it happens; wake up. Wake up. Open your eyes and you will see infinity. But they don't tell you this. They tell you that this is crazy; that this isn't normal. They tell you to  go to school. They tell you to graduate and get a job. They tell you to make money. And then they make sure you do what they say. They get you into debt. They keep you aspiring. They tell you that it's normal. But what if it's not? What if you knew that you could create a piece of art so magnificent that whatever robotesized version of you the future conjures up sees it - YOUR art - and weeps. THEY don't tell you these things. I am not crazy. I am just a man with a head full of words that make sense. These words aren't always tru

Follow the jeally bean trail. Enlightenment is not waiting for you to find it in this text or that. It awaits you within. The trick isn't gaining enlightenment, it's living it, says I. Create your world, and all else - meaning, or the increased lack thereof - will all come.

It's the difference between taking a well-deserved nap in a lecture theater and taking a recreational walk to the Botanical Gardens . . . In the former instance, I learn only how uncomfortable lecture venues are for sleeping. In the latter  one, I learn the names of trees and I count stars and imagine them pulling me towards them as I pull them towards me. I dream of success and I construct ways to make these dreams my reality.

If today were to have been my last, my dying wish would be for every single crush, interest and ex lover to know and understand that every single time I told them they were beautiful, I really meant it. My last wish would be for everyone whom I have either told or shown some form of love or affection to, to understand that all I am, ever have been or ever will be - from past lives to the next - is sincere. If today were to have been my last, I would be content.

Lebo: Hmmmmm... A great idea would be nice... But what's great in a world where everything's become familiar?  Lama: I think you feel like this because you haven't lived. I also feel that you need to invest your time in things that matter to you. Your imagination has been diluted by the books that you've read and the authors that you value. And also, you need to surround yourself with people who talk about the things that matter. People who don't necessarily think like you. People who are smarter and wittier than you are.

Live the story you wish to tell. It's all good to suck good stories out of your arse, and by God they'll be good... Everyone'll praise em and most will genuinely love these... But these stories wield very little depth if they haven't been experienced... It's the difference between a hollowed Easter chocolate bunny and a gooey-centered Easter egg. The bunny, t hough bigger and promising endless mouth-gasmic delight, always leaves one feeling slightly dissatisfied and dehydrated... But the egg, boy is the egg rewarding! Imagine that caramelly yum goo oozing down the side of your face as you devour the marshmallowly chocolate delight... You want more, don't you? Yes you do!!!! There can never be too many of these in the pantry! This very principle applies to writing! The world has more than its fair share of fun, imagined texts writ on a whim... And these will always sell... But nothing beats the texts writ by those who lived through shit to tell those tales at th

I sometimes Google myself... Nothing weird about that ...

I've kinda overdone it... A lot... Good thing I can hide my bulge behind my artsy wardrobe... Pity the unimaginative, never the fat!

What if our dreams were glimpses into past life experiences? What if all the times I dreamt of faces I didn't recognize, I was actually dreaming of faces from different lifetimes? What if all of this is but a dream as well - and some other me in another dimension is able to wake up?

Because ultimately there is nothing but another blank piece of paper waiting to have tomorrow written on it, adding to the pile of pages already filled with adventures passed.

Trust... I love a woman who can hold her own with me in discourse... Even if we don't see eye to eye, I'm likely to walk away from the exchange with a boner...  I remember a psychology tutorial back in my second year... I decided to open m y mouth and share my wisdom and this odd-looking first year dudette challenged me. I'll never forget that Friday afternoon. I think I was shocked into conceding.. I was drunk, and she was wearing a pink shirt and had her bushy hair in a ponytail. I fell head over heels - but I made my move too late... Alas, that last sentiment is a story for another day!

The problem with being destined for greatness is the long wait for that day of reckoning to come...

My world as I once knew it really did end in 2012. I was once a drunken, promiscuous, angry little hombre with daddy issues and far too many insecurities... Now, I have found peace. Words hurt, yes, but my heart refreshes every so often an d my life continues. I bear no grudges, harbor no feelings of resentment or bode anyone ill. I have started along the path to fully emancipating my mind and soul from the restrictions and limitations of this world.

I looked in the mirror. I saw the face of God looking back at me.

I used to fear my thoughts, my memories - but now I welcome them. Some are beautiful, some cause bile to rush up my throat and make my soul sick... But none can harm me. The past cannot hurt me. And so now my head is mine, I quite enjoy swimming in its great blue oceans of knowledge and lessons long forgot.

Oh my... I'm turning 23 this year... Haven't been a teenager in so long...

Sometimes memories become asphyxiating. I have one that haunts me till this very day; the memory of how I got the scar I fear may never fade from a wound that refuses to heal...

Secrets and lies... Such is the nature of the world I have written myself into... That where secrets are kept and lies are told to protect them.

Embracing the artist within saved my life

Somewhere out there at this very moment, there's a kid sitting in church being spooked into believing that their soul purpose in this life is to submit fully to Jesus and the church. Somewhere out there at this very minute, there's a kid b eing told that drugs are a sin; that sex is for married people; that little girls shouldn't sit however which way they feel comfortable; that little boys should not wear dresses. Somewhere out there, a kid is being brainwashed. That kid will grow. They'll grow to enjoy sex and resent themselves for it. She'll grow to consider herself a skank every time she shows a little skin; he'll grow and date women he feels nothing for. And they will most likely resent themselves for it. Somewhere out there at this very moment, a young life has just been poisoned.

Oh, my!!! I'm never picking flowers again... But... But... Like, I'll pick a rose bud and it'll grow and I'll nurse it till it blooms good and proper and it'll live with me and I'll love it while it inspires me to love... And sure, eventual ly it will die... But its life will have inspired mine. Life is energy, and when it dies after having been well taken care of, it might transfer its good energies to me... It's a cycle...

Suddenly the world looks and feels quite grim. The sky, too, looks sad. It's grey clouds hang low, threatening to wail out loud and drench the world below with it's thick, heavy tears. The birds' chirps are softer, and a deafening stillness fills the air.

I've known sadness. Tonight, I had something from my past thrown in my face . . . But ultimately, life is not happening to us; it's responding to what we do and how we go about doing it . . .  Follow your bliss.

My heart wants endless days of peace. I wish to spend my days in the world, watching it move and capturing the moments in my Internal Universal-knowledge Storage Unit. My heart wants most to play in puddles of rain water with friends new and old.

Once there was a goat and the goat cried "bleeeeeh", and a bright light flared up in the sky and from it fell a giant rock that landed meters away from the goat with a loud 'thud'. And the goat cried "bleeeeeeeh". It inched closer to the giant rock and noticed that it didn't look quite like a rock; and so the goat cried "bleeeeeeh" and the rock opened. And from within the rock came an even brighter light. The goat knelt down and hid it's face to protect it from the light. When the light died down, the goat decided to look up again. The goat's eyes met with those of a magnificent, well-groomed Ram. Shocked and fluttered, the goat cried "bleeeeeeeeh". The ram smiled and nodded and bowed. He inched closer, and he licked the goat's face. The goat cried "bleeeeeh" and the two of them turned and walked off into the horizon.