What is life without forgiveness?
Someday, we will forget the hurt
the reason we cry
and who caused us the pain
And when we finally realized the secret of being free;
we will acknowledge vengeance isn’t ours to reckon with
For being free is not revenge
but letting things unfold in their own way and space of time.
Even though where you sit might not be
where u belong;
It is better than the floor.
Let’s understand that,
it is futile to fight back fate, destiny
or the will of God;
it’s just impossible to forge our own destinies
so why hold back……………
when we are flawed mammals
Yes, that’s what we’re made of.
It’s a good thing to fight but not what is fated
After all, what matters is not the first
but the last chapter of our lives;
which shows how well we have ran the race
So smile, laugh, believe, forgive and learn to forget
For u have a reason to love all over again
If nothing else, these past few months have been awfully lonesome. I am not one of those people who cannot spend time alone, far from it, but I pass way too many hours by myself that it is borderline unhealthy. The fact that I am not in school and unemployed certainly has a lot to do with that. Now, I am not depressed but my monotonous everyday routine has grown quite boring and unexciting to say the least. I mean, I am not a home-body who never leaves the house but my social life is definitely sub-par. Then there is the fact that I am killing time so frequently that it is just absurd. I do play basketball with some considerable frequency but that is only for so many hours at a time. I miss having work to do, having a purpose to my days instead of just burning time…
It was one of those days, where I wanted to unchained myself from my worries, rip off my solitude life stiff toga, and flee to the magnificent roof top on the broll building. It’s always cooler at the tip of the building. I felt that was the only serene place I could discover a new and welcoming mood for the day. The heat in the office does not help when I’m having a bad day. It only makes everything seem much worse, and also messes up with the calm deep thinking process.
As soon as I got to the office, I went straight to the roof because I knew my mood will be tested with simple but harmful questions like; “…….are you alright? Is anything the matter? Are you sure you aren’t off-colored?……blah, blah, blah; all from colleagues and concern mortals……..”. Being on top of the roof would only position me closer to the sun. But I also knew that I would find solace and comfort there. I needed to be alone, but that’s pretty much impossible in an office and environment full of people. Of course, I still manage to find a way to be alone among the masses. Continue reading “THE UTOPIA”
Back then, yesterday ago
And even now, today……like right now
She ha(s)d lot of lovers chasing after her
Of which, she still has
Lucky her, so many admirers but has no eyes for none
Aah she exclaimed, I feel for them
But not until I found myself in their shoes
If only I could turn back the hand of time;
an unbroken heart would have been mine
Damn it! She n(ever) dreamt she could be in such ditch
God must be busy then;
Maybe true, maybe false
I would have chosen one before dawn breaks
Just one……..one that pampers
But here I am
I grief, lament and worse of all, yearn for my past suitors
They are nowhere to be endowed……they’re gone
Men, guys, folks……maybe boys too
All trooping and going low for me
Oops, that was before
Those pleas, all my life have been
what a damsel I used to be and still am!
She cannot find her pieces now!
All goodies that came chasing her;
into the bin they went
For a mystery has befallen her
And she return dissolved in her tears,
She loved hot but cold has become
a formidable opponent
She has seen enough
My eyes are bruised, again she laments
Too many needless have pricked me
No further will I go
Good or bad
I will not coil back into my old shell
Here, I will be; love-bridge!
I have seen enough
My eyes are bruised
A South African woman came by my brother- and sister-in-law’s bakery in Billeberga, Sweden the other day and mentioned that she’d heard of another South African (me) who was flitting about town.
And as the story goes with most South African expats – she proceeded to make a case for why her and her husband had left their disastrous, God-forsaken country and immigrated to 1,100-strong Billeberga, where it’s safe and clean and where life couldn’t be more perfect. A place where people live equally, work hard and leave their front doors open at night.
“We love Africa but it hurts,” she said
The final straw — she told my brother-in-law — came when their young family fell victim to crime – for a second time.
Ja, ja, it’s the same spiel we hear from South African expats the world over but heck! I don’t want to judge her when…
He hates it.
Waking up every morning to find that old unruly sun,
peeping through his window panes.
He loves sleeping, he knows that but he prefers waking up on his own
and not to a whiny alarm clock or the bright rays of the ol’ sun.
Neither to the brutal sound of Mubsy’s footsteps…….
yes, he does wake him up with that sometimes.
He will sigh as he turns over, still not getting up.
Don’t blame him, He has a lot to think about.
Like his future, his past and oooops!
His dream private jet dilemma
What does he really want to become?
He feels like two human beings…
or spirits are always fighting within him.
One wants him to be gentle and
behaves like how everybody expects him to;
while the other wants him to be a BIT rebellious
and leave home to explore the world.
His brain is always jumble with thoughts.
I wonder what I’m going to do without that private jet
what will I choose over it?
He sigh and doze off again.
That’s the fun thing about being a Team Hustler.