Multiple Personalities

This post is about friendship(s)

In the movie Split the main character suffers from what psychology terms “multiple personality disorder” I tell you right now if the disorder was like that, it would definitely be more interesting.

I want it!!

I want to use the analogy of the movie as basis to this post. None of my friends are the same, as a reader you can attest to this by looking at your friends and seeing how different they are to each other. Although we are all friends together, and resonate on the same frequency, we very much differ; We differ on how we approach certain things or life itself, I think it’s why my friends have their own friends as do I.

This comes to me in how I saw my friends reacting to something I had sent them. Each found a different aspects of one scenario, I didn’t send a joke to a certain friend because I knew it was not their type of joke, this of course doesn’t mean friendship over.

This phenomenon if I can call it that is clearly visible in my own emotional needs to them “friends” as well.

I never approach a certain friend with a certain problem, because I know they will not get the whole picture of the issue, they will offer support yes, but it won’t be the kind I’d need.

I have a friend I always approach if I have women problems, not because he has a lot of women problem surrounding him, no, because he has a certain understanding that I can resonate with… he also has lot of women problem, please help him!

I have a friend I can approach if I have family problems or thinking about future prospect. I have friends I can talk about artistic work, some of my friends get repeated in different loops.

Friends to talk dumb and serious shit with you know!

These friends in a way tap into different personalities that exist within me. I can listen to my friends music but not all their playlists, gosh I’d die.

I am not sure they’d be able to listen to my playlist, I got too many love songs, Taylor Swift ringing in my ears, what can I say Teardrops on my guitar is my shit!!

Anyway, friends are dynamic, some of them you can’t call to be honest because they’ll tell a joke to get you into unnecessary trouble, some you can’t call to speak “the truth” because they will really speak honest truth, bitch read between my lies.

Yeah I learned that lesson the hard way, that’s a story for another day.

I have a few circle of friends, I mean the people I can really tell my shit too. The ones that know I am really shy and quiet, the ones that know I am smart in certain fields and totally clueless in others, but that won’t stop me from listening to them rant about their shit.

Most my friends and I support the same teams, except Fiddy, he’s a bitch, he supports Arsenal, I don’t get that.

Friends, countrymen, people of earth, what are your friends like? Drop me some comments, let me laugh at your shit.

Pink is not my favorite color

You are often told not to judge a book by its cover, neither can you judge this reading by it’s title too, it may not be what you think it is.

It’s true though, pink is not my favorite, neither do I hate it, in fact it’s the opposite, I adore pink.

Pink is a color that slaps well on me, it’s colorful but not really bright colorful. Yet as a person of certain gender, I am still looked at with squinted eyes.

I was oddly very pink today, hence the writing of this post; pink watch and pink shirt, however my students saw a pink watch and went haywire

“Teacher, you’re wearing a pink watch”

‘Well yes, I am, thanks for noticing, it’s nice right!? ‘

No, teacher, it’s pink!

So. what?

Pink is for girls.

I knew that’s were it was going, I was waiting for them to say that, so I could ask who said that? Well I wasn’t going to get an answer because they just knew only that, they had no idea why they thought it, they had been told throughout life that pink is for girls.

Which in my opinion kinda sucks, more so that I don’t like blue as the color representing men. Who on this god damn earth chose blue as the color, why not black? or grey, something dark and mysterious!!

I’ve never been a fan of social classification or gender roles; that one thing should be done by one gender or another the other, in this case that one color belongs to a certain gender.

I like pink, it’s a freaking, nay, fucking good color, no it is, if you feel a type of way about that, it could be because of all the social madness that has clouded your intellect, but here I am suggesting you try out some pink color, I promise it won’t make you suddenly “change”

Pink, it slaps real nice. That sounds like a good slogan.

“You’re such a nice guy”

This is one of those statement you live as a guy not wanting to hear really, especially from a female who interests you, similar to how there are words that make women’s vagina dry when you tell them to her like “I don’t have money” fuck such a stereotype.

Anyway you’re such a nice guy is probably equivalent to being a dick dropper; I mean if there is ever such a thing as a dick dropper, let’s be friends is definitely one, I’m sure.

The penis just coils up and shuts the door saying “well you’re on your own on this one bro”

I don’t blame it really, windows, curtains, and all the door, not only that your heart probably breaks a lottle, it’s like a little but a lot

I can’t tell you how much I am laughing as I write this l because I am thinking of so many time I’ve probably have come to hear that statement; I just re read this line, and I laughed even more

“You’re such a nice guy” everytime it is said I ask myself the question back, am I a nice guy? Why the fuck am I a nice guy, fucking hell; My brain has learned to automatically laugh every time I hear those words; sometimes I want to scream out “I am definitely not a nice guy, I’m just nice to you, cause I like you” but that sounds like a pick up line, which would contribute to me being a “nice” guy.

There’s that line ‘nice guys finish last’ I am definitely tired of finishing last, this is not me admitting I am a nice guy, this is me just saying it happens too many fucking times, that it’s frustrating.

I get it though, some women generally feel your “niceness” and want to keep it around them, that they fear if anything sexual or relationship related were to happen, she would loose it all, meaning you, and that’s okay.

Damn it, doesn’t make it anyless frustrating though. However as much as I hate you’re a nice guy; it has it’s benefits; One of them is you get to keep these awesome people around you. I’ve had a lot of women around me who I don’t fuck with, I can honestly say some of those relationships have been very fulfilling.

There’s a lot you can get from seeing a female other than a object of sexual desire. I mean of course there would be times I admit to myself that “damn girl, you are fine as hell”

I have been able to ask some of these girls close to me questions I’d probably never gotten to ask.

You’re a nice guy is a horrible statement, close to “let’s just be friends” as I mentioned

I don’t want to friends though, I want you! You’re single, I’m single, let’s be single together

Why do we have to be single apart though?!

Anyway, there are a lot of lines dropped on us as humans of sexual nature or social nature that puts us in our places whether we want to or not!

“You’re over-qualified” “You’re too young”
“You don’t have enough experience”
“blah blah blah”

What words have been used on you? Even if it’s the same words, how did you take it, like a champ or like a weasel?

I am here with my nice guy ears, waiting to hear your intellectual nonsense

The Race card II: What did you just say?

People are tired of race conversations; damn, I’m tired of race conversations, but I’m only tired because people take every little thing so seriously.

Some racial/racist things should really be laughed at. It’s only things were people are unfairly reaping benefits or causing harm that it should be taken seriously; other than that who really gives a fuck

“Did you die?”

If you didn’t, why does it matter; let that person be stupid. I really find humor in every racial stereotype that I can find, at most times I blatantly make the stereotype apparent and let us converse around it.

Mlondi my friend told me he got into a conversation were Chinese asked him why he was black, which he replied why do you guys have small eyes like this (imitating the eyes).

If you’re still going to cry like a little bitch when racial things/stereotypes/ non lethal/threatening offenses happen that concern race, then my friend there is a long road ahead.

This read will take quite long, get chips/nachos/tea/wine or whatever you freaking eat/drink in your place of comfort.

The least Racist person in the room.

Last month I drafted a writing that talked about race, I didn’t publish it; I thought it wasn’t a little immature, focused too much on self rather than looking at the bigger picture; However elements from that writing do appear in this, because I am looking at ‘Race’ in a sense. Conversations about race are always complicated aren’t there? More importantly lately racism. Who’s more racist? I think everyone is actually a little racist; either direct or indirect, if you can’t admit that then ‘my friend’ you need help.

As pre other writings I like making myself and my experiences as examples, this writing will be no different.

There has never been a time were I fail to mention the first person I ever had sex with was Indian.

Uhmm that’s a little bit racist right? Yeah kinda

What had triggered this writing? Well after vicariously experiencing a little ‘racism’ I began asking myself, friends and colleagues some questions; Perhaps the main question being: Should I be offended by every racist thing that happens?

Using a word I clearly did not know as a racial slur for a black person, someone next to me was insulted. I of course did not pick it up; because I wasn’t familiar with the word. I was a little bit confused so I then went to ask this question to everyone in my contact by phrasing it as follows.

Should as an African black person I be offended by the word Nigga?

The answer is as Chris Rock once said “not really”. I left the answer to the public and I got different answers some expected, others surprising.

  1. I can’t relate to the nigga word cause I or my parents or my ancestors never got to be called that or disrespected like that.

For me as an African, kaffir is what would make me livid.

Kaffir is a racist term used in the Southern Parts of Africa to offend the black person. Unlike like nigga it’s really hard to take ownership of the word, and use to it to greet fellow black brothers and sisters, it somehow still holds sensitivity towards others.

Please read What’s up my Kaffirs, I wrote it a. long time ago. It will shed some light.

  1. Every black person must be offended by the word. Racism anywhere in any form must offend us!

As a writer, my issue with the word nigga is that it has become an embodiment for the black racial slur… it’s the N-word; but honestly in context I don’t really relate to it. The word is famous because it’s American.

  1. JC intent Also matters .(why did a person use a word ?) I am questioning in a non-English speaking country, the person might not know the connotation attached to the word ?I don’t know. You could swear at someone unintentionally in Mandarin I imagine ??

Intention behind the use of the word. As stated the word Nigga has been reformed in a sense by Black Americans, they have taken ownership of the word thus in a sense making it null void.

The problem again comes back to the fact that for other words, ownership might have not yet been taken, the use of that word opens up wounds; this is not to say nigga doesn’t open wounds, it does according to who uses it and in what manner.

We are all technically a little bit racist, and I think it’s okay to be a little bit racist; it’s the overachievers of racism that make the world an ill place to live in.

Does it not count as a little bit racist to be excited that you slept with someone outside your own race, it doesn’t matter if the feelings are real or not, that little excitement is kinda of racist.

I’ve heard people saying it’s racist for white people to say ‘I’m not racist, I got black friends’, yeah it’s kinda racist but black people use that line too, so why is it not considered racist?

This all comes back to the question of who’s more racist than the other or a question I posed “Can black people be racist?”

Uhmmm yeah of course, depending on the situation black people are hella racist. I have come to realize however that in their own space/country/community people really do tend to be racist/indifferent.

In your own country you feel a sense of belonging and ownership, so of course you tend to act indifferent to anyone who is not from there; So ultimately that is what creates this racist ideology.

I don’t have all the answers though, I just have questions.

If you have something to add, feel free to add, I like having these conversations as long as we find humour in them.

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??

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 out 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 think in future to get to know someone, I will surely ask them their fav senses, and 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.

I think I’m in love, but with your mom

So, I’m sitting across this young gorgeous lady, although she dos protest when I used the words ‘Young’ to describe her; replying with the statement like ‘You’re like 4 years old than me’, uhmm yeah, that makes me older ‘While you were still swimming in your dad’s balls, I was smelling the air of apartheid’. Of course, I only said the last bit internally. Anyhow we are having a conversation, mixture of a bunch of things and then accumulating information in the conversation she blurts outs and says “You love older women” There is a pause, I don’t know why, but there was one.

I denied it of course, on the mere fact that I have never dated an older woman in my life; however, I began to think about it. In thinking about, I became my own psychologist/therapist, that person who sits across you and makes you self-reflect basically, time to put my Psychology degree to use. I asked one simple question “Do I love older women?” To answer that JC let’s go back to the beginning, your early years of attraction. Well doctor JC, it all began with…

1. The girl next door.

Yes, like any young lad, I too had a girl next door crush. Every time I saw her (Zama), I couldn’t help but just feel warm inside. Light skinned, the sun just lite her face perfectly whenever I saw her. I am not kidding even when there was no sun, I felt like when I saw her, those sun rays would just penetrate the clouds and lit her. She was a year or two older than me. Everyone in the hood knew I had thing for her; People, you have to understand, I was living in a typical boy has a crush on pretty girl next door movie. What does a young man like me do with all those feelings except just stare in awe?

Hmmm interesting, go on.
2. Oh! So pretty in high school

In high school there is a flood of beautiful young girls, I guess for me my eyes looked a little bit above. As I am typing this, I am realising I had quite a lot of crushes in high school; sadly, none groomed or photosynthesized to anything (Get it??), even though all of them technically saw that I had a thing for them. There was Nondumiso, I’ll be honest and tell you that I recently googled her or rather tried to find her on Facebook. I have unfinished business with her, I still have a high school letter that I wrote for her, can you believe I’ve never opened that letter. It has been under my bed for over a decade, I kid you not. I was going to confess my long four-year crush on her finally (in matric), she was a year older than me, or two. She was older than me, that I was told, and it was clear as daylight. Nondumiso if you’re reading this, it’s not too late.
Then there was a girl named Punky, it was a short crush really, I think I only liked her because I thought her boyfriend at the time was an asshole and I could do a better job at boy-friending her. She took advantage of my crush on her and made me do her homework, like constantly, I didn’t mind really, she got to sit next to me. She was 1 year older than me.

Then what could possibly be one of the biggest clues on my love for older women, which I still deny is my high school teacher (Mrs Mshengu). I think everyone had a crush on one teacher, if you deny it, it’s fine, I won’t argue, I don’t have proof, but I had a crush on my physics teacher. She took my O2 away; see what I did there? If you didn’t well, uhmm, awkward.

Anyhow, I got happy every time she came to class, and of course if you have a crush on your teacher you have to be good at the subject she taught, I was fair, enough that I was in her radar. In matric, for prom, I asked her to be my date; she said yes. I don’t know how I got those Fe balls?? See what I did there again? It’s science puns people.

So far odds are against me, I know, it definitely seems like I have a thing for older women, however my ground point is that I have never dated anyone older than me. Yes, I have a thing for them, but why?

3. First experience(s)

University for most of us was that place where we experienced a lot of firsts; let me speak for myself rather. The first girl I had a thing for (My heartbreaker), and the first girl I kissed was 3 years older than me, let’s call her Belle. The first boobs I had my face on were from a girl 4 years older than me (not sexual, just a game). Let’s go back to the girl I kissed for the first time. Admittingly I was in love with this one. I still til this day can tell you from head to toe was she was wearing the first time I saw her. Things didn’t work out, she liked women…meeeh that’s a story for another day.

After that, every woman I was in loved with or had a crush on or fling with for the next 3 years was younger than me, if not the same age; until of course, the day I saw my partners Mom; let’s call her Mrs R, for “Robinson”. There is absolutely no way this can sound less creepy than it is, I won’t share all the details, but I had a huge crush on my partner’s mom. There’s no doubt about that, I had a huge attraction for Indians. She was hot!!! I once or twice or maybe a couple of times told my partner that I thought her mom was hot.

Furthermore, my friend’s mom was attractive as well. In my excuse, as labelled above, I had a thing for Indians and both my partner’s mom and friend’s moms were Indian so…technically it shouldn’t count really. Except that my first Indian Crush was a girl named Tasha who was a year older than me. Neesa doesn’t count for those who know me and are yelling what about her!! She has always been my hot, sexy beautiful friend.

Well fuck me twice & sideways… this is getting worse than I expected it to be.
I am starting to believe varsity is a sort of hellish place really. At one point in my life, I had a sugar mama as well in varsity, it’s not as clear cut as it sounds. Fuck it, I should stop this writing. There is a possibility that somewhere deep inside, I do have a thing for women older than me mara deep down, in the pits deep. I can date an older lady; age is just a number really.

I am not exactly sure where it comes from, this innate desire but I have never gotten the opportunity to be in a relationship with an older women; I have gotten myself in situations where I was intimate with some but not in a relationship, it’s quite strange now that I think about it.

At the back of my mind however I go back to a typically used statement: Older women are more matured; they know what they want. There is half truth in that but nonetheless there is truth. If we’re just in it for the sex and the fun older women tend to understand; The world has transitioned however that even young women, well people in general understand that intimate only ideology, quite scary if you ask me, but I am not the one to complain.


Self diagnosis results are ‘hmmm maybe and maybe not, there is no definite proof that the patient has a thing for older women; however, as he has never experienced a relationship with an older woman; We can rather call his symptoms a fascination with the older species of opposite sex’
So, what is are your thoughts? On yourself, not me. Do you prefer certain age group? Certain maturity? What attracts you to a certain age group, or it just happens?

Can one exist without the other: Being faithful vs. Being loyal? (The nginithanda nobabili Complex)

Sex vs. Love

What is our capacity to love? How many people can we say we ‘love’ them and feel utterly satisfied? If one relationship ends and another one builds, who can you say you loved more? But this blog post is not that complicated, these are just side thoughts that I want you as reader to dwell on while reading. As we read, we will slowly be trying to unravel some answers to those questions.

This reading has been at the back of my mind for a long time; what made me begin to write it today, was that I bumped into a status online that read “Even though you were sleeping with married men, do you still wish/pray for a faithful husband?” To be fair we will substitute men with (partner) because let’s be honest to ourselves people, the world is not as clean as it looks, we kinda all have skeletons in them closets.

The statement got me thinking about relationships, specifically two things related to relationships ‘Being faithful vs. being loyal’

What do these words mean? Can one exist without the other? In relationships should we consider these as separate, because there’s that human thing in all of us that yearns? Is it possible to choose one? Which amongst the two hurts more? There are so many questions just for one mind, so at the end, you better have an opinion too.

Let’s break down the two words, let’s be professional, use a dictionary (online).

Faithful (Adj): 1. Remaining loyal and steadfast

  1. true to the facts or the original.

Loyal (Adj): 1. giving or showing firm and constant support or allegiance to a person or institution

Now wait a minute, it seems like these words are similar? Faithful definitely links to being loyal, right? So, does that mean these words cannot be separate entities? Well not necessarily. For that I go to another social media status update that famously said “I promised to be loyal but didn’t say anything about being faithful”

These words are quite controversial don’t you think? There is such a thin line in them that it makes you sweat between the bum crack, just a bit. Let’s review what the words are stating in normal social language.

“I promise that if I cheat, I will always come back to you because you are my true love”

“I still love you very much, I just had a moment of weakness/love for someone else”

Let these words sink in, I am certain there exist people who can decipher these words in so many ways, some even better, but that is what the words say.

Faithful vs Loyal

“When a rich nigga wants you but yo man can’t do nothin’ for ya” ~ Brown

Certainly, it is fair to say these words should be glued together, not the lyrics, I am talking about faithful and loyal. The words should exist like bread and butter, however sometimes butter just doesn’t do it, I mean you love butter, you do, but sometimes you want jam or peanut butter or mayonnaise or ham or polony, I really don’t know what people love in between their bread but my point is what is being loyal and what is being faithful? Am I an asshole for even suggesting one can exist without the other?

First of all, I can be an asshole, but this one is not on me, I am producing facts, I am shedding light on to something that already exist; I am just asking people to talk about it and question it.  At one point in her life my mom had two boyfriends at once, I had to refer to the other as my “uncle” not her best moments, but she want still loyal to her initial boyfriend; later in life when I asked her about all that she did, she gladly admitted her faults and told me the guy had been cheating too, so she was like fuck it.

My little brother had quite a lot of girlfriends when he was young, but there was one that the whole family knew, she was ‘Makoti’; a lot of women came and went at the house, but makoti never left. The young man was loyal but faithful he was not. I too honestly have suffered from “the, but I love them both syndrome (infidelity)”, which is something I never thought I’d go through but it happened, I was sincerely in love with both women…shoot me.

My friend had sex with a few women in his life, but you could never rank them higher than the love he had for his girlfriend, admittedly he said these worse which we will soon talk about

“She’s probably doing it too; if she’s cheating/sleeping with someone too, it’s fine, as long as I don’t find out, we are good”

What does it mean to be faithful, and to be loyal?

A few weeks back I actually asked a few random people, mostly women, if they’ve ever been unfaithful to their boyfriends (partners), and with honesty all of them said yes, can you believe that?

Side note: Ya’ll trust me too much with your secrets shame knowing damn well that I am a writer!!

Anyway, including both men and women about 98% admitted that they have been unfaithful to their partners, some to the extent of intercourse. Now I had a follow up questions one of them being “did you tell him/her that you cheated?” the answer of course was

“Hell No!! why would I do that?!!” some followed with these words “S/he is probably doing it too, as long as nobody knows, it’s cool” “The first one to admit that they are cheating will be at a loss”

Admittingly all these people who committed infidelity deeply loved their partners; very stranger isn’t it???? Some I asked why they did it?

“I just wanted her/him” “He looked yummy” “I heard he was good in bed” “We were flirting and one thing led to another” “Just the way he looked at me” Yo! Guys kubi outside, people steal your partner with looks!

Faithful and being loyal??

Let’s dissect the information I have shared so far; there is devastating information in there, one being

“Everyone has a thought at the back of their minds that their partner is cheating” well that’s another word we should review isn’t it, cheating?

Cheating (verb): 1. act dishonestly or unfairly in order to gain an advantage.

  1. Break of trust?

There exist so many forms of “cheating” that I don’t necessarily want to cover all of them up here, but you the reader, you definitely know what I am talking about, if not personally, vicariously, you know.

However, Legend says “It’s only cheating if you get caught” who is legend, and is s/he correct? This brings back the statement made by my friend early who said ““If she’s cheating/sleeping with someone too, it’s fine, as long as I don’t find out, we are good”

You can feel the love in these words, can you not? There is an abundant amount of trust (loyalty) that exists, right? I mean the words still consider the partner as number one lover, as long as no one knows the other one is unfaithful!

Ahhhhh!!! My brain hurts.

Can these words exist without each other? Is there a person out there that exist who doesn’t cheat? What exactly is cheating? Does having a crush or flirting with someone who is not your partner count as cheating? No? so you are denying the idea of emotional cheating? It’s complicated isn’t it? Certainly, if you think it is not, you can state your argument on the comments.

I promise to be loyal but I am not sure about being faithful? Our fathers and mothers, and great grandparents are proof of the existence and legitimacy of this statement. My mother and her sisters don’t have the same fathers; even celebrities have suffered this act of being loyal but not being faithful.

So, are we admitting that this thing exists? That you can be loyal but not necessarily faithful, I am not saying we should be like that, but I am saying, it’s human nature. Sometimes someone just comes and sweeps you off your feet or rather pants, if not skirt; and it’s okay, that moment of weakness is natural and should be accepted as long as you are still loyal? I am putting a question mark because I don’t want to conclude for anyone.

Being faithful vs being loyal, which one is more important? Are you willing to sacrifice one for the other? Is that even a possibility?

What is your opinion? What situation(s) have you been in? Remember you don’t have to be innocent, we all have skeletons really, let the bones come out and dance.



Moving Out of Home.

They say when you are 18 you should move out of your parents’ house. Let me drop a huge laugh and ask, and go where? Ngiyephi bakwethu??


Some transitions are made to look easier in movies then there are in real life. Moving Out of your parents’ house or home requires certain conditions, some of us are not attuned to. Unfortunately, the biggest one among them is race, but I don’t want to make this a race thing, I want to make it a human thing, because we are certainly in times were everyone suffers the same fate.


Primarily this writing will use my surroundings as an example; surroundings of course refers to people I know, friends and family (it’s weird to separate like that, as if friends and family don’t count as people I know), anyway, yes.


I am in my late 20’s might as well say, early 30s since I am a year away from entering my Ted Mosby years. Unlike Ted Mosby, I don’t live in an apartment, I still unfortunately live with my parents, in a way. I do have a ‘job’ that pays the rent, I know however that if times were to get rough, I still have a roof and a “bed” waiting for me back at home; what I basically mean is that I haven’t moved out my parent’s house.


I was one of those adamant people growing up, I told myself by 25 I will have my own apartment at least. Uhmmmm yeah pipe dream that was…hahaha.


I know a lot of my friends and acquaintances who technically still live at home, perhaps it’s the artistic life we chose? Uhmm not necessarily; I know people who are not artist who still technically live at home.


So, my strange question still remains, when does one move out of home? It’s likely that when one gets married they should definitely move out; uhmm well I know some people who are married but have built homes just a few steps away from their mom’s house, worse some still use the room they grew up in to live with their wife or fiancé.


So, we are back here, the question still remains, when is someone supposed to move out of their parent’s house? In my experience, now let me quickly bring race back in here; as a black person, it seems there is no time to move out, especially if you are not well off (monied). If you are broke and at home y’all broke, where are you gonna move to man? My brother and cousins have a number of kids but still live with their mom.


So, this concept of at 18 we must leave our parent’s house is ludacris!!! It really is, at 18 I just finished high school, and about to go struggle at varsity for how many long years, lord knows, and during vacation where exactly am I supposed to go? Home, duh. I guess moving out perhaps is not literal, to an extent.


I want to move out of my parent’s house, I do. I want to make my own rules, I want to have crazy wild sex with my partner, I want to comeback at my own time and want to sit quietly; I simply can’t afford it yet, that’s possibly kinda my fault or the systems fault, well frankly, I am tired of blaming the system now.


The truth though is I never imagined being at the age that I am in, I would still kind of be living at my parent’s house; I definitely don’t want to reach old age still doing that; I want my kids to visit grandma and comeback home with stories rather than being raised by grandma; geez my mom needs rest too, she raised me and my siblings all by herself, give the girl a break.


Anyway, this moving out business is complicated; we got degrees yet there sit under our mattress, same mattress we had so many dreams on, dreams of getting them degrees.


Well f&#k me twice, ain’t that a bitch.


What’s your comment? If you got insight please do share. Remember to stay safe.