Jungle Fever

Now I don’t want you to simply use the term ‘Jungle Fever’ from the movie with the same name by Spike Lee, but I don’t want you to remove the idea of the movie in your head completely either.
I was recently watching a new comedy series titled “Woke”. It seems like every network is producing more and more series, a dawn of a new era. Anyway, somewhere in the series, a line during a conversation peaked my interest. One character states
” Is it really possible to remove Fetishization in an interracial relationship?”
This is the question I want to pose, try to answer and converse around; I mean is it really?
I have never shied away from my interest in Asians. I’ve always found them quite attractive. I don’t know why, maybe that’s why I am writing this today.
Now I come from a country were race is very tricky; tricky as in people, mostly, never shy away from showing you that they are a different race from you, or see themselves as superior to you; but who cares about that now.
That perhaps is where some ideas of Jungle fever begin. The idea of having something outside of self, having someone that represents a different race than yours; the indulgence of a forbidden fruit.
I’ve had plenty of friends who were of different races from my own. However, I never felt that they were any different from anyone else, however, it doesn’t mean that others did not look at me differently. I was always the guy who’s always walking with the Indian girl or the white girl.
Is it possible to be in a relationship with someone of different race without fetish ideas having infiltrated your thoughts?  Uhmmm unlikely. Yes, you can be in love, you can be head over hills over this boy or girl, but somewhere deep in your conscious you always wondered what it would be like to indulge in the nectars of a different race.
I remember when my friend, who is black came to tell us how he had sex with a white girl. Yes, we were excited, I simply cannot understand why, but it felt like we were part of that experience. Almost exciting as a friend telling us he had a threesome “The belt”. Another time the friend comes and tells us he slept with a Spanish girl, if it wasn’t going to be weird we would have gone out for drinks to celebrate that day. All I can say is imagine what happens around the campfire; that was us listening to the juicy details of our friend… yes. You cannot blame us however, Latinos have been abundantly tagged as having one of the most, if not, the sexiest women of race in the world.
We are all somehow intrigued by different races. We could perhaps have been sold ideas by the media, but jungle fever has us by the genitals. Do you see what I did there?
Thinking about it now makes me wonder if my fear to kiss my old friend who was white was caused by this. If you’re a regular reader, you know who I am talking about. It makes me; wonder if my fear to kiss her or be with her laid on the fact that she was “white”.
If I am being honest I will say yes. How does one be in a relationship with a white person??! That was me back at that time. At the time that I am in now, I find myself curious. I find myself wanting to interact with different races more so I can understand if they are different from black women; interact in conversation in case that comes out wrong, which I am reading it does.
So far there’s nothing much different except for the fact that people tend to have expectations if you’re not the same as them.
So the question rather remains intact. Is it possible to remove fetish ideas when getting in interracial relationships? Even in one night stands? Lord know I’ve looked at different coloured women and said to myself I wonder what it would be like to be with her? I’m guilty of being human, sue me!
My colleague, when I asked her, said that was why she’s afraid to get into interracial relationships. The not knowing if the person is with her because he truly finds her interesting or just wondering what it would be like to be with a black girl?!
According to another colleague of mine, it’s not possible to entirely remove fetish ideas from interracial relationships. Some individuals actually get into the relationship because the other person is a different race. The other person being a different race is a factor.
I am in no way taking love out of these relationships; that these individuals do not love each other. All I am stating is that sub-consciously or even consciously interracial relationships include a fetish factor in them. We get into them because we are curious, intrigued about being with a different race/culture/tradition.
What is your take? Can we remove one from the other?

5 things I don’t like, in no order

In a journey to improve my writing, I am currently reading a book. There’ are currently two ideas that I’ve gotten from it to improve my writing; 1. Read! Read! Read. 2. Yes, write! write! write! So stupid yet so profound!

The title I chose is not really interesting; I tried to go for word play, make it fancy, but at the end I came to the conclusion ‘why be Illusive, just say as it is.

One particular exercise asks for one to write about things they dislike. I thought I’d take a jab at this one, it proved harder than I thought, not that I don’t dislike things, but I wanted to search for things I really feel like I don’t like. So, here is my short list of 5 things I don’t like.

  1. To not know (Schrodinger’s Cat)

If you’re familiar with the Cat, Box and Poison experiment then you will know what I mean. I hate not knowing; this could be intellectual or relationship wise. There is a difference between not knowing because someone is being mysterious and it’s quite hot but then there’s just being an asshole. Intellectually I have a competitive side, which means if I am interested in something I work very hard to figure it out and know how to do it. I don’t like not knowing, especially in a field that I cherish

Relationship wise, I think its familiar with everyone; not knowing where you stand. I’ always make sure people know where they stand with me. Romantically and friendship wise. False hope is quite draining; it sucks the life out of a person. It is best to let people know facts, how they make you feel and how in turn they feel about you. There’s no person that I had a crush on in my life that doesn’t know. Perhaps maybe one when I was in high school were my confidence wasn’t as high, but now, everyone has to know where they stand.

  1. Dirty Rooms

I am not saying, I’m the cleanest person, surely I’ve kicked some dirty under the rug a few times, but I love clean. The sight and smell of clean gives me a virtual subconscious orgasm. Honestly it does, goes through my whole body, only thing that ends up missing is the release, if I could I would. I use to have mild OCD, just mild, but it was enough to make me obsessed about a certain cleanness.

I’ve even explained that, sometimes I’d come back to a clean room, were my brother or lover cleaned it, but I’d do it again. It didn’t feel clean until I touched it.

  1. Things with many holes in it (Trypophobia)

This thing began when I was young, it’s a classified phobia or medically recognized, I didn’t even know. It bothers me, I don’t know but I feel like I’ll vomit; there’s a lump that gets stuck in my throat, even now as I write I feel it. I’ve never told anyone about it because it’s weird

  1. Female leads

I am about to sound Misogynistic, but honesty is my policy. I am not even sure if this counts as dislike since I have a few exceptions. However, I hate female leads, I don’t know why, I. just don’t like em.

Dolores (Westworld) and Annalise Keaton (HTGAWM) are the exception, other than them, I simply loathe female leads. I can recall many times were I stopped watching a series/movie/anime because it had a female lead. There are tons of great series/movies/anime with awesome female leads, but it’s just not for me.

  1. Getting into fights

This is ironic; I love so many fighting styles, I’ve practiced so many forms, I mean so many. I’ve read and researched about so many. However, I hate fights, or rather getting into one. I don’t see any reason to fight, honestly I think it’s the effect of past family experiences. I never see a reason to fight, even in a situation were fighting is the only option
What a strange Zulu man I am right?!

One of the most stupid reasons I dislike fighting is the fear of murder. I have watched and personally practiced so many styles of fighting that I fear I know how to kill someone and in a fight I’d unintentionally commit murder.

You can’t wash murder off your hands. So I try my very best to talk my way out or walk away. This fighting doesn’t relate only to life or death situations but relationships as well. I’ choose to walk if there’s yelling or physical touching arguments.

These are 5 stupid things I dislike; I mean there are not stupid but there are 5.
There is bonus dislike, or maybe I should have just said 6 things I dislike, but 6 is such an even number.

  1. Messi vs. Ronaldo debate
    Frankly this deserves its own blog. I dislike the Messi and C. Ronaldo arguments. I am one of few/many who believes each is good in their own way, even though I am a CR7 fan. There are certainly qualities Messi has that Ronaldo does not, and vice versa. I won’t get into it because my point is that I dislike the argument.

What’s your 5??

The art of feeling regret

We have all been in a situation of regret, I bet you more than once. It occurs mostly when you are still figuring out; 1) who you are? 2) What opinions matter to you? 3) Whose opinion matters to you?

I mean I am sure it can go beyond these three points I just wrote but for this writing let’s consider these points pivotal or rather as the base. I truly have had regrets in my lifetime, whether it was having told a lie or having not being truly honest with how I felt. These two points are very much not the same. One point reflects my actions against others while the other reflects a reaction felt by self.

However these regrets, especially ones of my actions to others, began to fade away. My regrets began to fully encapsulate the latter; my reaction to self. I began to live on the motto ‘Honesty is the best policy’. Yes, of course, there were many times were I was crucified for living under that motto but I figured out something that is still going to take my fellow humans a while to understand.

We simply cannot live a life were we hinder our true honesty just to fulfill the desires of other people. When we do that, which we often do, we are living under a lie and soon enough these lies begin to build a home in you.

In one of Dave Chappelle’s special he uses these words: “As a policy I never feel bad about anything I say up here”. He has no regrets about anything he says while up on the stage.

The stage provides a platform for him to truly exuberate his honesty about everything. If he ever regrets the things he says on that stage, he is no longer himself.

What is my point? My point is perhaps we should all be constantly on stage like Dave Chappelle. Do things or speak out our thoughts and have no regrets about them, no matter how brutal in honesty the words may have swam. Yes of course we can consider the three base points that I made, number 1 being the most crucial, and others, really there is room for flexibility, haibo thixo!

People I am tired of living a could’ve/should’ve life; that life is draining.

Sidenote: Ever had that I should have kissed her/him moment? The worst right.

They say don’t listen to your first instinct; Psychologists can be wrong too. Your first instinct no matter how bad it may be is still the most honest you that you will ever be.

What made me write this? Well, as I shared in my last writing. I recently signed up for online dating; my friends although argue that Tinder is not for dating but for the latter. Shut up guys! Anyway you get into this thing and you wonder if it’s best to be yourself or to design an avatar of yourself that will fit the role.

Role: To get partners of course duh!

I made the error of tying to fit myself and an avatar together. These two personalities ended up clashing. There I was having matched with an individual I found interesting but “keeping it cool” led me astray. I wanted to speak my own way however I fell into a trap, by the time I was awakening from it, I had lost. It’s only afterwards that I wondered why wasn’t I just myself; If she don’t like me well that’s her choice

There’s a lot of interesting people that challenge you in different. That’s mostly what interests me, the meeting of these individuals who’ve lived life differently.

This brings me back to the art of regret. Morality allows us to be sensitive and understanding towards others but, yes there is a but, we need to begin a journey of selfishness; A journey that let’s you exuberate all your honesty and let people react to it; they must fucking know who they are dealing with. This thing of hiding behind avatars must stop man.

It’s like a person who keeps making excuses when they don’t want to say no; I don’t want to help you or I don’t like you. It hurts for the receiver but you were being honest.

The best example for the type of individual I am referring to is Larry Davids in Curb Your enthusiasm.

I really appreciate honesty; for a while I might feel horrible, which is won’t lie it hardly happens. I am one of those people who believe if something wasn’t meant to be, it won’t happen.

What intellectual bullshit do you want to add?

Courting on [the] line

How do you prove to someone that you’re worth their time and you are hoping they will be worth your time too?

In anytime, a human relationship has always been difficult to create or manage. You have to think and consider all these things that might effect/affect it.

Personality? Interests? Culture? Language, People etcetera. I think it’s the first time in my life I have written the full word etcetera.

Anyway, in creating a new relationship online, whatever format it might take, is difficult. The biggest problem is, perhaps trying to figure out if the person on the other side is interested at all.

Now, I am a kinesthetic individual; every past relationship I’ve had in my life has been created through physically meeting the person. I am good at that stuff, interacting physically. I mean I have a qualification in it.

A relationship that needs to grow over the phone or text is hard; reason(s) being I can’t see the authenticity of the person on the other end. We’ve all laughed on text but not even smiling in reality, it happens.

Am I making sense?

I feel like I’m not being clear yet, perhaps I should make a personal example. I’m currently in a process of trying to build a “relationship” from an online meet. I swiped right, why? Not why am I trying to meet people online, that’s a question for another day.The question I am asking is, why did I swipe right? Well Andrew Stanton best explains it in his Tedtalk as follows

“We’ve all be there, after switching through so my channels on the TV and suddenly you stop on one, it’s already half way, but you watch because you are drawn to it…it’s by design”

Same thing as well, I found myself stopping, after countless swipes, I stopped at this image. Nothing written, just images that seemed to have a conversation with my eyes and I was curious, turns by chance? it was the same on the other side.

So we talked, yet, here I am writing. Why am I? Well there’s this heavy feeling on me. I don’t know what emotions the person on the side is going through, if there’s any at all? There’s no way I can tell; it’s awful.

If a physical interaction has occurred I promise I’d be feeling lighter on my chest, but it’s heavy damn. My biggest problem is that I am feeling like I am doing too much? I feel that way because I don’t know yet know which route this relationship will take.. I could be busy interacting like it’s going to be a novel, but the other person only sees a short story; Could be seeing the relationship as just a movie, but the other person sees a series full of ups and downs.


So, how do I talk? It’s not as if I am getting much either; Is that perhaps a sign? or I am over thinking?

I could go online and read manipulative advice from those who have gone through it, but then it wouldn’t be me acting the way I act. So ultimately the way to go is just doing what I would do and hope for the best? Another thing that I could possibly do is ask myself’ What do I want?’

Frankly I don’t seem to have a straight answer and that’s where the issue lies; not being able to figure what exactly I want…

Damn that’s kind of scary.

What’s your advice? What has your experience been, if you’ve ever created some courtship through online “assistance”?


I have been thinking about my senses lately; the things I’ve experienced through my senses. I don’t think these writings are complete but they give off a certain idea about the stupid things I let my senses indulge in. I hope after you read you can share what intrigues your senses too. Make coffee or smoothie or whatever drives your fancy.


The unit of Sound is decibel. I learnt that in high school.

Sound is everywhere even in silence.There is sound. Even when you close your ears and eyes as tight as you can, you can still hear sound.

In sleep there’s still sound in my dreams. I am in love with different noises and sounds.

I love the sound the drain makes when it’s sucking up the last bit of water; it turns into a vacuum.

The sound of cash as it ripples through the ATM, who doesn’t love that. I love the sound of old music, it has the ability to awaken memories, moments that can’t repeat.

The sound of argument amongst the gents in the hood. Always makes me shake my head in laughter.

I love the sound of air when I am on a bicycle with my eyes closed; it makes me feel like I am flying, if not in a movie.

I love the sound of cracking bones or loosening of muscle when I stretch out. It always feels like my body is breathing.

Yes, I love the sound of old Asian movies, it makes me feel like a young kid waiting to go outside and attempt all those tricks.

I grew up too quickly really.

I love sound, I love noise. I love the noise that occurs during sex. I do, the sound of oooh and ahhh coming from my partner. Pun intended.

There is sound and hearing it makes me feel alive.The sound of pouring rain on my roof at home, it calms me; then the leaking sound that randomly hits face, brings me back to reality.

Then finally, if there’s ever such a thing; my love and hate for the sound of applause. I love giving off that sound but hate receiving it; it always makes me feel weird inside.

Wouldn’t the world be better if we began to listen more than we talked.

2. Sight

The moon shines so brightly; I could stare at it for hours on end, just as I would stare at you.

There are things that bring joy to my eyes. My sister’s face is one of those things. She doesn’t have to speak nor smile, her face is priceless.

Watching bodies dance. There is something about movement that enchants me. It pauses me. I imagine myself in there moving too.

I am attracted to smiles, real smiles that causes wrinkles around the eyes. I’d marry a girl who has a great smile and forever make her smile.

Animation, cartoons. What a sight to see; there’s something about watching these dumb illustrated objects. It brings peace into my old heart.

The sky; the sky is like a clean page where anything can be written. With my eyes I write every fantasy I can think of; I love watching the pale blue sky.

3. Olfactory

There is a certain smell that you produce during sex; it entices me like a moth to light. Science says we produce these sexual hormones that cause attraction. If it’s true, I want to stay in your skin.

After the rain stops, there is that smell that hits at the back of my nose. I want to indulge in it.

Paper, newspaper and that smell from a newly bought novel. That’s the first thing I always do when I get a book; smell all the content in it. So dumb.

Uncle Rajah. Rajah makes me remember watching my mom cook; that smell puts a smile on my face.

I hate coffee, but the smell of it opens up my nostrils like a dog that has smelt smuggled cocaine.

Vaseline, the original body cream, I use to hate it too. My aunt rubbed it on my skin so much I knew I’d be baking in the sun.

Come take a look at this grass Eddie Murphy said… the smell of grass after a trim.

There’s a flood of old memories again playing in my head so quick it’s a marvel film introduction.

The ocean breeze, I can’t swim but I can smell the air the ocean throws towards the shore.

4. Taste

The things I have tasted are not enough, my well is still empty; like a travelling chef I want to taste every meal from every culture.

Taste is never ending; I love the taste of skin. I bite the soft bits of my own skin, if not the one I am sexing. I love to nibble just a bit on skin not with teeth but with the flesh part of my mouth.

There is another part of the skin I enjoy the taste of, it hides in between your legs. This line has been a repeat, it assures me that I love being intertwined, in flesh were bodies are in heat together.

Apples. I have nothing more to say than the name itself. Apples.

Bacon… ahh Bacon an insult to my health, an indulgence for my tongue.

So many things I love to taste, so let me rather write about those that I hate.

I hate the taste of onion. It makes me sick. I mean that literally. If giving up was a taste it would be number one, since it isn’t I hate the taste of earwax. Shut up you’ve accidentally tasted it too.

Taste of badly burnt food, it reminds me of my failure. The taste of ink, yeah, I’ve accidentally had that too

5. Touch

I could never write poetry as good as my favorite writers. They could paint words in the ocean; mine can’t even swim in a pool.

So I decided to write my own words; words that I could laugh at when I read them out loud.

I love the feel of a baby’s tiny hand when it wraps around my finger. It makes me all cute inside.

When I was young we use to clean chicken feet with hot water. After that chicken foot was naked, I’d lay my cheek against it. I love the touch of chicken feet on the cheek. It’s so tender.

Just like nipples our heads have these multiple nerve endings. I love the sensation that I get during a head rub, only when I am lying on top of soft breasts and a beating heart.

Touch. Tender. The pecking and intertwining of lips. I love to kiss, maybe I got too many kisses when I was young, so now I have a curse for yearning to kiss soft lips.

Rain. Rain on my skin. The feeling of rain leaves me happy. Just as hearing it leaves me feeling calm.

I am not ticklish, except on the sides of my body; I discovered this when I was young. No, I’m not a virgin, just ticklish on one place.

The feeling of the dance floor as it plays with my skin. I love the conversations that the floor and I have… the possibilities, the discovery and injuries.

If there could be one last thing, I love the feeling of hand holding. There is a just something about it

There’s probably billion of grammatical errors, I apologize. As Dave Chappelle once said if you’re standing too close to the elephant, all you see is it’s penis like skin.

Why we all should apply for jobs we don’t qualify for?

It’s easy and probably honest to make the statement that they are people who are in jobs they don’t qualify for; a lot of various factors go it explaining how. It could be due to corruption or nepotism, good looks, race etc. It’s not all bad really because some people are there because they took an opportunity, others started an opportunity.

Before I go far, let me clear one thing on the side. We can’t all go into starting our own businesses, not that it’s impossible, but frankly some of us are not built as leaders; being a leader who can manage people takes something that most people don’t have; some people thrive better as followers and that’s okay, don’t judge; appreciate that skill and ability.

Now that is out the way, let’s get to the main topic; why we should all apply for jobs we don’t really qualify for?

I can’t really prove the next statement what I can say is I am making it as an artist. It’s no more in the arts that there is an existence of people who don’t really qualify to be there… please don’t take the words ‘qualify’ literal. I for one have worked with hundreds if not thousands of people, and I truly understand the existence of natural ability when it comes to arts, especially performance arts; individuals who just get it and they are great at it.

Qualify for the Arts means people who don’t necessarily work hard to be there, individuals who are there because as explained earlier they knew someone or they are just pretty. Guys let’s never escape that truth… some people are in there because they look beautiful. It’s okay, well maybe.

In the arts we have people with law degrees, science, biology, psychology etc etc. Then you have the artist who put a whole lot of years in the craft doing who knows what… well I have something to say to my fellow artists.. get the fuck up and apply for a marketing job, science anything really, you’re an actor, a performer…

Okay let me clear that out in better language.

I don’t know how many times I’ve been in a position I didn’t necessarily belong in; I have been in politics, and was in favor to be a leader in the field and I don’t even like politics; the people in there however loved me.

I have worked at a bank, sort of, yes, I am an artist; and I’ve been in various types of marketing jobs. None of these jobs I qualify for, what I did was, there was an advertisement and I applied, I told them what I am good at and how it fits to what they are looking for.

It’s strange isn’t it, not really, people admire and are attracted to those with the right energy, people who know what they really want; it’s an attractive facet to have, I certainly find it attractive, even in women.

My friend, Mlondi in desperate times, desperate adventurous times really; He once applied to be a maths tutor, the man knows nothing about maths really, he said so himself, however he was willing to learn along the way.

There he was in front of maths board members having been selected as an interview candidate. My friend tells me he sat there convincing these guys that he was the guy they were looking for, that he has been tutoring for years now, he understands the workings of it all, the system of learning. He told no lies, all he was doing was hype his ability, and use the right energy.

The board members laughed, they deliberated, they were all in agreement that this man was the right guy for the job.

Of course he wasn’t taken, however not because of lack of trying. Just politics.

Sounds like motivational bullshit doesn’t it? Well it does, but it is as truthful as it can be. There are not many jobs out there, but perhaps there are, it’s just you don’t think you belong in it; either you believe it’s below you or above you. You have to understand your ability.

I’ve taken jobs were I was in a hot costume, had to run the whole day during comrades marathon giving strangers hi 5s…tell you what, one of the best jobs I’ve ever had. After a while in that job I got promoted.

My friend Sanele who has a drama degree was a bank consultant, can you believe that? I trust this man, but not with my money?? I can tell you that never!!! Yet he worked to convince people that their money was save with him and good at it too, bravo arts

My point is, if their looking for a PHD, convince them why you with a high school certificate are much better suited for the job. If their looking for a science guy, convince them that with your drama dance degree you can be a better suite for the position.

It’s far fetched I know, not all positions you will get really. However here is what you will get, a response that tells you how to be better, a response that can offer you a difference position because damn you know your way with words etc.

As always I am on my intellectual bullshit, but you know what? it’s gotten me pretty, pretty, pretty far

What the HOMI BHABHA?!

I remember the year was 2011, if I recall correctly only 3 people out of a class of about 50 students were able to pass the Homi Bhabha essay.

Excuse my next unintelligent writing for a second

“what the actual fuck Homi Bhabha?! What English are you writing? “

I felt very dumb at that time, to be honest, I doubt I still understand anything Homi Bhabha writes; my relationship with his writing doesn’t exist. However, my point is not clouded, not all writing is Bhabha writing, there are certainly worse writing, worse meaning more complicated and there are easier ones, however if you pick up most academic writings it’s not for the common wo/man.

I don’t know about you but I speak Human English, academic writing on the other hand hates human English; You put academic writing and human English in one room, one of them will be pissed off, academic English goes on dates with Shakespeare English.

To be an academic writer is very frustrating and straining most times. As Bill Blurr says It’s like going to the cinema to watch an end of the world movie (World War Z or Planet of the Apes), a movie basically about the end of the world, and being told its PG 13, What the Oxford?! There are things that you can’t say or do; you have to do this and that. I mean how can you make an end of the world movie and not expect people to run around swearing for their lifes?

I tell you right now, if a zombie was chasing to kill me, I’d produce more F. U’s than the Wolf of Wall Street.

My question then comes back to this, is academic writing only for academics? If yes, why though? why can’t academic writing be for the everyday man/woman, don’t want to offend anyone?  Yes, you can say it is for everyone but come on, you know what I mean, it’s not everyone that can read the Juggernaut nonsense that we academics write.

The worse thing is that some of the texts/readings that I have read in my lifetime as an academic are absolutely lovely, the ideas in them could be useful to a lot of young people in my field of theatre and performance, but the language in it makes it rather difficult. So, why is it like this? Well I have no clear answer, even if I did, I’d have to reference it, and we all know how annoying that can be; however, in my opinion again something that you can rarely have in academic writing. I think it’s because academics want to be distinct, establish themselves as a different breed of writers, not authors; My god! No, we are, as academics do not write fiction! We write words that can be proven, referenced in reality…yeah fuck off guys!

 The reason I am having this vent out is because 2 years ago when I completed my MA thesis, although very proud of it, in between writing it something got lost. The ideas and thoughts I wanted to share were not clear on paper as they were in my head; well because my words were deemed not academic enough!! That’s popular opinion. Ahhh fuck that. So, I ended up writing jargon which I only understood because I had too, and my supervisor was there to help me understand it.

I love academia, I really do, however that doesn’t mean I cannot question the way it is structured, the way it bends us in its will and fucks us. To be honest it would be chaos, yes, if some rules of academic writing were broken, a disaster would surely come but come on people. Are you really trying to tell me, you are only writing for those who can be able to come to varsity? That’s rather unfair, isn’t access to knowledge the one thing we should give each other in order to grow as people, I certain believe that. Our academic writings, especially all of them dissertations are busy collecting dust in the cloud or libraries until one day someone bumps into it then another 5 years pass. Oh! What?? What was that? People will surely read yours? Because when you wrote your dissertation you filled a gap that was missing? Join the line buddy?! We were also told to fil gaps… the language in that writing will make it difficult for the gap to be filled that’s the issue

I am currently reading a PHD dissertation proposal; honestly I have been out the academic reading game for a while; novels, books and blogs have infected my mind, and when I picked up that proposal I was hella confused, I wanted to call this strange writer and ask ‘what the hell are you saying? Speak English to me’. The idea seems solid but there’s that thing of, how many but only a few handful people will see it. Sir Ken Robinson truly wasn’t lying; academics live from their neck upwards; the body is just a tool to carry their heads to places.

What is the solution for this mess? Uhmm I don’t know really, it’s a long battle with old people; These academic fossils, when they say ‘Jump! You do it, otherwise you’re about to spend a decade trying to complete that dissertation. In conclusion, I don’t have an answer to this question I pose; I am hoping you the reader could perhaps offer an opinion to enlighten me.

What the Homi? Yeah 

What makes great sex? What is great sex?

This is my second writing in 2 months related to sex? It could be my psyche telling that I’ve gone perhaps too long without it; 5 months is long, OMG! Well, I am in a foreign country, it’s going to be a while. Okay, let’s get to business or pleasure; See what I did there? first of all, answers to the above questions come in floods, quite a lot of different answers I got from the people I asked, and of course using my own experience, the answers as many as there are, there are certainly commonalities within them.

I have had quite a few sex(ual) experiences in my life, more than I thought I would have when I was young; honestly I didn’t think I would sleep with as many females as I have in my life, of course I shall not disclose that number; it’s not a hectic number, I’d like to think I am not a whore, but that’s another question we should ask ourselves; what defines a whore? Is whoring not supposed to refer to sex plus remuneration? Unless I am mistaken? However, in this changing world whore has been redefined.

Anyhow, I wanted to explore this question of what makes great sex? In my fair share of sexual activities, I believe I have had moments where I would refer to the sex as being great. Of course, I think we should all engage in sex to make sure it becomes a great experience, but we have our bad days, don’t we? Sometimes you just don’t feel it, and it could range from a variety of things.

I certainly have had those days too, sometimes, honestly were I was bad, performance not at its peak; then you hope you can have her again so you can redeem yourself but it never happens again; I mean why would it; it would be like giving an assassin a chance to kill you again after they missed their shot. However, come on, let me redeem my strokes, no can-do baby doll. Don’t you just hate that, being unable to repair that bad sex you gave, especially with someone you wanted.


The answers I was able to get from those I asked prove something I was expecting, that being, there is so much pressure on male performance in sex than there is on females! Yes! The guys have burdened themselves with this pressure of having to perform and lasting longer, that lasting longer automatically seems to be a factor in defining great sex, it can be; unfairly there doesn’t seem to be much pressure on women as long as the legs are open, and “they” are enjoying it.

However of course they are individuals like myself and others who are flipping that script, who “require” the woman to be equally performative during sex, I mean we are both enjoying this experience, you are getting something out of it, so make it worth my while as well.

So, here we are, trying to answer this (these) questions about sex. I realized that ‘Genitals’ hardly play a role, I mean there is that percentage that it contributes as some highlighted, however, it’ barely scratches the surface.

So big penises, tight vagina, it doesn’t really matter, it all comes down to what can you do. You probably have read a lot on how to be great in bed? How to perform better? Sexual position? Or watched a lot of porn to be get inspired; Out of all those I mentioned it’s fair to state porn doesn’t help much realistically; Every sales person exaggerates about the product a little bit so you can buy it; Porn sells sex, and sometimes very well; the storylines though need a fix up.

Where was I? Per usual in these blogs I write, I like reflecting on my own experience and it won’t be any different with this writing. In my defence, I was young during these times, however given the opportunity, I’d still engage in the acts; in fact, I still have a lot of sex in me that I haven’t explored yet.

I’ve had sex on public stairs, public loos, I’ve had sex on the roof, other places I can’t mention; I’ve had sex on top of a table (My partner being dinner), by a tree, in the shower (location). All these experiences satisfying in their own way. Yes, of course in between if I am honest there were those that I didn’t enjoy very much, why? I think it’s the common factor that I was able to get from everyone when I asked what makes great sex.

I remember how thrilling the quickies I had with my ex were; I recently read a meme that read “quickies” are important in life, and honestly, I cannot deny that fact. Quickies offer this exciting release between two people; sure, at most times the guy is only person that comes, but thing about quickies is, it’s not about lasting long, it’s about enjoying that short intimate penetration between two the two of you.

My ex would be on her way home and I’d see her ass and just want her right in that moment, I mean it happens, then boom! Her skirt would be up and against the wall both of us in ecstasy. Surprise sex can count as a quickie too, and damn is it exciting! I remember one time she just walked in, probably a bad day. No hello really, kissing happened. My clothes were taken off instantly, she pulled up her skirt and sat on me and rode me like crazy, I was bitten that day too. Yes, great sex it was.

Moving on from those images, having sex on the roof was one of the most exciting sexes I’ve had, again the question remains what made it great? With this one, a lot of elements made it great, besides location, one factor being it had been dragging along for 2 years. It was written in both our minds, hearts and genitals that we wanted to have each other.

Yes, ladies and gents, there it is that important element that makes sex great, that is, desire.

DESIRE that is reciprocal.

Reciprocal of course means what it means, desiring each other, that your desire for each could move the earth itself. You could say “but JC, you can’t have sex with someone you don’t desire” well you’d be quite wrong; it’s possible for desire to be one sided; People have meaningless sex quite more often than you’d think.

However, when you desire to satisfy the other person as much as they desire to satisfy you, sex rather becomes something else. Let me be clear, being curious doesn’t really count as desire; being curious about someone can be one sided, unless that curiosity is reciprocal then perhaps, but it’s questionable.

When you desire to satisfy someone as much as they desire to thrill and satisfy you there are no limits to what can happen during the sex you have. People sex is nice, it really is, if you’re willing to let yourself go and enjoy it.

So, desire, let’s place desire as the number factor that makes great sex, and then coming next to that is positions/style that your partner gets into. I want to believe this is the only time that styles/positions can be considered as a factor to great sex. Yes, positions by far contribute to great sex. You know there’s that position he puts you in or that position she gets into that makes it feels like heaven is on earth… Yeeyyyi!!!

Yeah, my mind just went quite far right now here be thinking about the positions the people I have been with get into. There are more factors though, if it was just desire, we would be in a problematic world.

Men have been known to look at women sexually, especially when she looks quite attractive, dressed attractively, sometimes it doesn’t even have to be a nice dress; we are a waste, I know. However the one thing no one wants to talk about is how women do the same, you’ve read books, actually you don’t even need to, just ask a close female you know, women are honest to tell you that “Yes, they do check guys out” I have been direct in asking those questions: Ass is known to be an attractive facet for females in men; I think I wrote about this year’s back in one of my post, I remember stating

“Gents, time to work on that bum, you need it for good thrusting”.

So, what is my point? How does this link to great sex; well it’s rather obvious; there is greater enjoyment in sex if your body is deemed attractive. Let me be clear, this is not me saying, you should work out now, be fit, that you are fat, fuck that; all body types are capable to be great sex givers, if your partner/person finds your body attractive there exists a mental satisfaction already without having even touched them.

Honestly, as I keep writing it seems impossible to pin down the exact things that make up great sex, there are many. You can be so beautiful but be whack in bed. You can have a bid dick, and be horrible in using it. You could have a small penis, and still be horrible too, and that’s just a waste; but you could be very great at giving head/going down on her. And there’s another factor that is quite helpful when engaging in sex or creating sex that can be deemed great.

The satisfying of your partner/person without penetration. I spent a lot of time learning how to be good in that department, and of course you always keep learning sometimes during the act, I believe I have gotten to myself were I am confident that using my mouth I can get my female partner to her destination. They say practice makes better.

To have great you need to be able to use these other sexual actions required in sex use hands, use mouth or even toys, just know how to do it. Some of the answers I got on what makes great were “Great foreplay” makes good, great sex. Foreplay is interesting; foreplay is like a chef tenderizing the meat before cooking it. You get the meat to be nice and tender, the meat is able to be manipulated at will after tenderization.

If foreplay is done just right, the results are similar. With foreplay you fuck your partner psychologically and/or mentally. It was Chris Rock who said something along the lines ‘Dick should be a reward that she gets. You tongue ability should fulfil her, then when you whip it out, she’s like OMG there’s still dick’. Again, it’s goes back to the pressure that men suffer in having to perform, damn! We should change the game.

I am not a huge fan of head, however I have enjoyed quite a few I’ve had from the people I’ve had sex with. Head given on a quickie is rather intense and really pleasurable isn’t it. It really gives the words of great sex a vibration. People, great sex is really hard to pin down; As I keep writing I am realizing that there are more and more factors. However, “DESIRE” remains at the top of the scale/rank.

Desire that is reflected makes sex exhilarating. I can recall the many times, I’ve gazed at a partner’s eyes, I mean looked at her and she looks back, and the air changed in the room, even amongst people and I knew I wanted her and she wanted me. It can happen to even strangers in that moment you know, if not later, sooner both of you will be screaming in blasphemy somewhere.

There is one factor I must mention, that contributes in having a good intimate relationship with someone and producing great sex as a result, that is being able to communicate. Yes, that’s another factor, I should have mentioned it earlier, being able to communicate what you want. Even during the act, itself, it can be recommended, if she s/he flips into that position you know does nothing to you, uhmm tell them.

Well, understanding though that sometimes sex does needs sacrifices, that you can let your partner have 1 or 2 positions because they like it, not that it does anything for you, but because it gets them to that state. If you want to try something new with them tell them. Aghh this is turning into me giving sex advice, eeeuuueewwww! I am merely trying to answer what makes great sex!

For me to get a clear perspective I need you the reader to share your thoughts. I am interested in knowing what makes sex great for you, yes, you, the person reading this. I’d really be a fool if I believed I could fully answer such a deep query by myself

What makes great sex for you? What gets you going, don’t be afraid, remember communication is important.

Milestones and Relationships

Even relationships have milestones. How often did you think the friends you have in high school would be your best friends forever, I mean let’s go even earlier back, those young days, those young friends you grew up with; at that age you certainly believed that you couldn’t live without them. There are certainly some of us who are able to keep the friends we had when we were young, however unless both of you shared identical interest and ended pursuing similar education interest it’s likely you are no longer the same together.

I probably have written this so many times inside different post but whenever I go home I always feel that my friends and I no longer share the same interests, beside the fact that most times they end up placing on this pedestal in terms of life; I feel that our interest are never aligned, their life’s are totally based on the lifestyle of the hood while I have seen what the world has to offer and as Dave Chappelle once said “I know the game now”

So our relationships have milestones, and believe me I won’t only be referring to the bad stuff but also the good we can have in these milestones. In honesty the milestones prove something about us social beings, that we are forever changing beings, that what once made you feel a certain way can progressively make you feel nothing later. In this blog I will intertwine so many events that highlight such, perhaps you will relate and argue if I am telling the truth or not, I could be pushing air out my ass really but we’ll see.

In 1997, I just moved into the hood, Willowfontain, due to some events that happened in my childhood, link below


We had to relocate. I was the new guy in the location, did not help that I was a shy kid, but it helped that I was adventurous. I made my first friend Bongani he was quite older than me, but I remember we were best pals. In that time that guy made moving into the new location not bad at all, I certainly felt like I was forgetting the old town I was at. He lived quite a few houses from me, so naturally I believed we’d last like a soapie, but life doesn’t work like that does it. He was older as I mentioned, as we grew his mentality on what to do as a social being + male was ahead of me; he began to explore, I had other interests. What probably changed the dynamics of our relationship was that he introduced me to some of his friends and lord behold, I was more best-friends with them than him.

So we moved apart in life. Unfortunately, or rather very fortunately, the friends he introduced me too became my besties and are still in my life today, Bongani on the other hand has seen a lot of terrors in life. He certainly grew up quickly, looking at how his life turned out we clearly were destined for different lifes; now and then I see him, greet him and wonder if he remembers that we once were best-friends

A friend of a friend of mine.

In the earlier 2000s I made a couple of friends, stolen in my previous friendship relationship Thulasizwe “Engine” because when he was young when he walked he use to make an engine sound all the time, I mean all the time, and Sipho “Bones” because he was very skinny, it took me til my late 20s to figure out that name, I swear I never knew what it meant. These guys are still the only people around the location I grew up with I consider friends, we did everything together from smoking teabags, playing local baseball, soccer, karate clubs and fights, a lot of fights. However, life did create a huge gap between us; we never went to the same schools, I was, as I still am an education nerd, I saw something in life, I believed I could dig something out of it than what it was offering me, so slowly we were drifting away from each other without realising it. I will come back to them later.

Primary school

It’s possible to meet someone in such a young life who will become so close to you that you consider him a brother, and oddly enough our relationship didn’t begin very strong, it was rather here and there. In this life time I met Mduduzi ‘Ray” the name Ray came later in life; This man means a lot to me, if I consider one man a brother from another mother it is this man. Together we have experienced a lot, even when times changed and life took us in different directions calling this man when I was in need of something or calling this man to just say ‘hey’ makes me breathe easily. We’ve had our fair share of fights. There was a long gap in our relationship from secondary primary school to high school, a very long gap, but somehow life pulled us back together. Ray is a unique man, it hurt me quite a lot that at the end of our high school I left him behind; however, like I said we are all meant to take different journeys and most of those journeys make us who we are today.

High school

Stats say a lot of things; statistics say some of the relationships we create in this milestone lasts quite long. It is not for everyone however, but it is for some. Stats say some of the intimate relationships we make in this milestone last a lifetime, I was unfortunately not amongst those either, I am rather happy about that, as I am happy for those who found the love of their lifes in this time. I had a friends who got married in this life time and still married til this day, kudos to them.

Again that feeling grew in me, that the people I meeting here will be my friends forever, and for a long while it felt like that, for the who lifetime of high school it felt like the friends I was making in this era would be my friends forever, and I had crushes, being inlove for the second time felt foreign, I understood I was changing. I met Philani ‘Terry’ in 2005 the Mariah Carey years of We belong together, although that song is dedicated to the crush I had at that time Nondumiso. Terry and I were pigs in a pond, we vibed, we had the same interests, we loved books and we dreamt of making it big in Hollywood, a wish years later I wish I never had, I realised early on how hypocritical Hollywood really is.

We got separated the next year as our learning interest didn’t align but our friendship survived as it would survive til 2008 (the end of high school). As I said in high school a lot of us create relationships, I had a lot that lasted and l a lot that I thought would transcend time but again life has different paths. In high school I met Nkosinathi ‘Mazzi’ a man of honour. Our relationship did not have a great start, rather it was a confusing start but it grew to be a fruitful relationship that I appreciate til this day, and forever will appreciate holding on to it even after high school when things didn’t seem to go well for my brother; I was there for him and later he returned the favour by helping me back when I needed a place to stay in varsity. There is an old African saying, I know it to be African

“Isondo liyajika jika” which loosely translates to “The wheel always keeps turning, what was once on top, will be at the bottom someday”

There is a quite a lot people I could mention in this milestone of my life, but most of them just faded away. It is only I who now and then reaches out to see if life is still within them, I remember there is a gentleman Thamsanqa ‘Dollar’ that when I was in high school I promised myself that the day I get a dance school I was call him to come teach at it, that dream is still within me, it is with hope that he is still alive, life was never kind to him.

University and Work

Then perhaps there is this milestone, the one I consider to have made the most impact in my life, perhaps the one that has created a foundation to who I am today. When I was young I constantly would tell my location friends that life is bigger than the hood, we watched so many movies that clearly showed that there is more to life, that there is a whole world, last year we had this conversation, I was telling them I am going to China, they were not that surprised Bones said “I remember you use to tell us that you’ll travel the world someday, back then we laughed but you never laughed at yourself’

University taught me a lot of things, if not how to enjoy being myself, as it does for all those who went to it, and are still experiencing it. Again, I created relationships that I firmly believed would last forever, some never did and some today, I don’t know what I would do without them. The first friend I ever made in varsity was Vukani ‘mavuka’ this man was an artist in nature, a revolutionist that came from the hood. Vukan was basically the opposite of me, while I was still cooked up in a shy shell, Vukani was the expressive wild card, man loved women, and some didn’t’ shy from loving him back, we made work together, he disappeared for year at one time, I brought him back because he had something I wanted, he was a performer and I wanted him in one of my works. I still talk to Vuks til this day, he was the one who dubbed me “The joker” no one even me knows why, but I reckon if not from the crazy things I do, its clearly from the fact that joker has J in it like my name. I grew up a lot in varsity, the beginning years were a struggle as with most of us, no money, so you wonder how you will survive but the lady who gave birth to me, my mother always somehow came through for me.

I met a bunch of people here, perhaps the one significant place to me in varsity was the drama department, for a long while I never wanted to leave that place, it felt like home, like I would be there forever, a decade certainly is forever, I watch friends come and go, lovers come and go

In varsity a lot of life milestones get achieved really; it’s in varsity that I had my first “girlfriend” Roopen, I heard she’s about to embark on her new milestone. It is in varsity that I first experience what heartbreak was, from the above of course, worse I didn’t even realize I was heartbroken til a lady friend Fallon, who I recently tried reaching to, sat me in the sport field and made me realize I was actually crying inside. She, Fallon was quite a special lady, I’m not sure if she knew it, I hope she did. At one point we sat on the roof at drama thinking about what life might have planned for people like us. Yeah, it’s just a memory now.

There is quite a lot that happens in varsity, and as much as you make a lot of relationships, you lose a lot of them too. I met lecturers who dressed me in confidence Paul, and those that inspired me Mr. X, a man who’d later indirectly teach me that you can be close to perfect as you can but you’re still human. I consider a lot of people friends in this milestone, again some I thought I’d never lose but life has this idea about how our paths don’t really tread the same way.

I met TQ and Mpilo in varsity, these fine gentlemen, I’d see them right in front of my eyes become national superstars. It is with honesty that i can admit that we drifted a part, but everytime i see them it’s like we are young again. I made fun academic rivals, people who knew how create life around them; Kline was one of the people who did that. This milestone is important for those that are able to get into it because it teaches you things that you should value and introduces you to this foreign environment, these people who you’d have never met if you lived in the location your whole life. The first friend outside my race I met here, Neesa.

I still question why I never fell in love with her; Well could be I was enjoying being her friend and being friends with girls is something I was use to. It’s in this milestone that you make such deep friendship relationships that you mostly never realize when you’re in love with someone, that happen to me, with a white girl named Lynn, but race, I wrote a book about it, link below.


As varsity years blew by I made long lasting friendships that changed my life, I met Sanele, the man dubbed suspect, a name that fits him like a glove, he can’t OJ out of it either, although if he could, he would. I met Letho ‘Army’ who has moved on to his new milestone of having a family, if one knew the road he took to get there, you’d be asking, how is he alive. Well in fact most of my friends from varsity you’d have that question. I met Sizwe here, a man who contributed to inspiring me to dance later who said, I inspire him, remember that wheel, it keeps turning.

Then there was Simphiwe “Fiddy” “Mfalme” there are more names, the man has more names that Jesus does, in fact with his beard he could pass as Jesus. I learnt a lot from Fiddy, and not all of it good things either, hence why he has made quite a contribution to my life. I’very lived with Fiddy as brother, a friend, a son, a father… in each other we’very played quite different roles.

We have had a fair share of fights, I directly learnt that giving up on something you love is not an option, but like I said, he’s human. He has flaws, from his errors I have learnt too, those that he can manly admit and those that he is afraid to admit. Sometimes if not most times I want to klap him in the head for the worse decisions he has made, but he’s a brother at heart I forgive him.

In my varsity milestone I achieved a lot, I was a learner and transcended to become an educator, it is when I was in these milestones of work that I met lovers, again stats say that you meet the love of your life at workplaces, it doesn’t say in what manner. I met Londeka while I was a junior lecturer at a college, after that our relationship grew wings and flew. I was happy, I’ve been in flings throughout my varsity milestone before but I was never in a relationship, then I was in one. For the life of me, I had hope it would last beyond time, but life changes doesn’t, it diabolical like that. When I planned a new leap into my next milestone, life didn’t necessary allow us to transcend together, i hope she is happy whever she might be.

While I was in this working milestone at university I met Mlondi, who I consider my best friend. Some journeys only the people who have lived through them can tell the story. We’ve played a huge role in each other’s life, we’ve cried on each shoulders when life had knocked us down, we might have even shared a woman or two without realization at some point in life, well that’s no secret. If I were to share the actions and events we’ve been through, it would definitely need it’s own blog. To even think that our relationship began in a different milestone for me as his educator and transcended to what we are now.

We continue to learn from each other, we continue to make mistakes and guide each other through them. Together we are in a new similar milestone, working as foreign English teachers in China. When we talk he tells me stories of how different his life has become, how he is reinventing himself to better, like Ultron his body and mind keep evolving. That is what a new milestone makes you realize that you can keep things that matter and discard those that don’t add value to who you are becoming.

If you’re reading this and you know me, and you feel that some words come out harsh especially if we created a certain relationship, I’d advise you to not feel that way, but rather ask yourself in the life that I am in right now, what exactly do you know about it. Do you know that I was in a Chinese prison for 5hrs, lost in translation and afraid what would happen to me? You probably don’t, most probably you knew after months; the reason being, the people who could help me, even mentally/psychologically/spiritually were reached and I was able to get help. It’s not you, it’s me, okay maybe it’sthe way of life really.

In this new milestone I am still learning,you’d have thought at the age I am in, I would have figured life out by now.

I don’t, I fucking haven’t.

What I have figured, perhaps what I figured years ago is I know what I want for myself. I’ve worked hard to put myself in every possible milestone I could that I wanted; I won awards, I learned how to create poetry, I flirted with a lot of women. All of it matters cause without it, without learning from those relationships and the mistakes in between I would be a different person.

Perhaps without a doubt, the one milestone that will Always mean a lot to me was when I became a brother to a young sister; I sure love all my family members, my mom Busisiwe, my little brother Lindokuhle but the one person who means everything to me is my little sister Lockia, I never really know if she knows, probably doesn’t but being the first person in 1999 I ever said I love you too my sister holds a place in my heart that perhaps no one will ever have, Yeah she has problems and she’ll get married to some dude some day but she’still my sister.

You see what happens in life, in each milestone we go through, we break barriers. We discover that life has a lot to offer. Life has all these various things to offer to everyone, I mean it won’t the same, you won’t necessarily feel like it is making any difference but you’d surprised.

I can’t wait to reach a new milestone, become an owner of property ‘dance’, only work for my passion, that would be something, and having a family; that would really be something, however I am not in a rush.

What milestone has made an impact in your life so far? Do share and perhaps we might end up sharing reveal deeper ideas

An unopened letter

                                         An unopened letter def.  A letter that still lies unopened

As one writes there is this discovery that keeps happening, you keep evolving, you start to notice how words function together to be lyrical, persuasive and attractive to the eye. It takes a while to notice this occurrence but eventually it happens, and once you notice it, you feel like you’re floating above ground.

I have been writing for as long as I remember, not counting writing for academic reasons, just writing because I have something to say. Something to say? That’s an important element in writing; something to say doesn’t really refer to having something to say to people but rather something to say to yourself. Most writings I do are reflecting on my thoughts, it is me sharing myself with the world. When I write I feel like I am giving information about myself to the world, with a little bit of hope that someone can identify.

I remember one of the first important writings I ever did in my life, and it was a writing I never was able to share. It was a letter; at this point I had written quite a lot; I mean I had a diary I always kept jotting stuff on. I believed myself to be a poet, although I hated the word poet because frankly, I wasn’t writing as great as the poems I was reading. It was in high school, I was a 13-year-old kid in love, with one of the prettiest girls in class.

Her name was Nondumiso, tall and dark skinned. She had a chirped tooth, but it wasn’t a flaw, it made her even more gorgeous. She was slightly hairy, had sensual baby hair side burns. Looking at her was like looking at those rays of sunshine that peak through the clouds, a small but marvellous moment.

It was one of those occasions in school when we wore casual clothes, funny day if I remember correctly. That day, she, Nondumiso sat across me, she wore a loose black dress, held by tiny strings on the herm and lady ‘sandals’. She was looking prettier than usual. She usually sat far behind me, but today, it was rebel day, technically anyone could sit anywhere, and she chose to sit right across me; well her friends sat at my desk, so, yeah. Yes, there she was, a hand reach away, and I couldn’t even lift my eyes to look across me. That is when I saw her legs, she didn’t have gorgeous sensual legs I can admit that, but to me, they were paradise.

So, on a piece of paper I wrote a short poem about how gorgeous her legs look, I literally spoke about her legs as if they were a girl I was hitting on. I don’t how it happened, my friend next to me got a hold of the paper, and somehow after it circled the whole group where I sat, it was in her hand.

My heart was out of chest. I couldn’t breathe. She read it. She was smiling and blushing. I only know that now since I am older, back then I just registered it as she wasn’t mad at the writing. Next moment I get a piece of paper, asking if I wrote that for her. I was shaking, I replied yes, she said she loved it. If I was a cartoon my heart probably exploded that day.

You’d think after that things would be clear as daylight, that it was a win for me, but not really. I wasn’t cut from a cloth of charm unfortunately; I mean I realised now that I am older how much she tried to let me ‘get her’; neither did I see those signals nor had the guts to actually go for it. So, for years in high school I was in love with this girl, Nondumiso. I mean I wrote so many poems about her, in my diary, such whack writing but it was cute.

Three years later, I was still in love with her, she had a boyfriend throughout High school, I didn’t care, to me she was just experimenting with the other guys, I was her man. So, in the final year of matric 2008, I made a decision that I will confess my feelings to her, through a letter. I mean I had nothing to lose, I was never going to see her again. So, I drafted a letter, it took many drafts, I had a lot to say. I finished the letter, wrapped and sealed it with paper, decorated it, I mean it was a love letter, it had to look good.

On prom day/matric dance day, I had the letter tucked into my blazer, my mom worked hard to get me that fine suit I had, I hate suits, but that one still ranks as my favourite, not because it was that good but because I knew were it came from, I didn’t even want to go to prom at one point. Anyway, there I was, hours before the ceremony began, I am standing, actually a few of us are standing, by the ‘bar area’. We were too early, but there she was across me, looking even more beautiful than ever, a flower that glows in the dark.

I tap my inside pocket to see if the letter is still there, it was, I breathe and I walk up towards her. She looks up, and she sees me coming. As Kevin Hart says “I see her, see me, see her”
I couldn’t do it.

After three years of battling my feelings, I was defeated, I couldn’t give her the letter. I mean that’s all I had to do right? No consequences in just handing the letter to her? Well I think it probably had horrible spelling but I was young, fuck it. I had poured all my feelings in that letter. It was the first real thing I ever wrote; just a young man trying to express his feelings to a girl. After that, I never opened that letter, it still lies somewhere at home under my bed somewhere; I last saw it in 2015, I looked at this stupid childish design of an envelope and I laughed, I was tempted to open it, just to see what I said, but I decided not to.

At the age I am in, I have now written a lot of ‘love’ letter or poetic writings. I am able to freely express how I feel and share those feelings. Sometimes I am lucky that the people I share those feelings with reciprocate them back. I don’t think I would change how things happened that day at prom, I like the idea that I don’t know what could’ve happened.

Some of us have difficulty expressing how we feel and possibly who we are, I think writing is one-way people can be able to express themselves. The writing doesn’t have to be poetic, all you have to do is tell your story; someone will listen to it.