Taking The First Step

Have you ever wanted something so big that you sometimes stop, look at yourself and go; “am I ready to embrace it?” Well, that is pretty me every day.

I am so proud of myself, I have compiled my music in a disk, took a taxi to town and gave it to as companies as I could, and that felt wonderful. I am God of my destiny and through hard work it reflects, I have what it takes to make it.

In the movie The Pursuit Of Happiness by Will Smith and his son Will tells his son that; “When people cannot do something themselves, they tell others that they cannot as well”. That has stuck with me forever, and so can nobody tell me what I can or cannot do/be.

I have taken the first step. With that said, good luck to myself and to everyone chasing a dream far bigger than they are, but having faith far bigger than the dream.

As I take another step……………….

Something For The Ladies


8 Things I wish Someone Had Warned Me About Before I Turned 18

I’ve recently recorded a song with a young lady who has a toddler, she struggled finding the baby-sitter, and instead of rescheduling she decided to come with her baby in studio, and that taught me one thing; “If you really want to do something you find a way, if not, you find an excuse”.

Failure has no excuse, postponing your dreams because you are too “tied” up at the moment is really no justification either, nothing is really. I have not yet made it as an author, an actor, rapper or any other dream I’ve tried to peruse in my life, and all the excuses I convinced myself with to give up at that time sound plain stupid today, even to me.

We had such an impressive session that day, the vibe was so live, so was the music and yes, yes, yes; the baby was just too adorable. I then thought; “If only we invested as much effort in chasing our dreams as we do in making up excuses”. If only.

I used to think I was super smart and had it all figured out, I was wrong, only if somebody had told me these eight things sooner in my life. I wish someone had told me that:

1. My father wouldn’t live forever- We had a seriously shaky relationship, I was told to let go of all the anger and hurt but I just wouldn’t listen, and when he passed on I realized that all the arguments, insults, and fights were not really worth not working things out over.
2. High school wouldn’t last forever- We know high school will be done with soon enough but not the implication, or else we wouldn’t waste five years of our lives impressing people that probably won’t even make it to our adult life. As students popularity seems like the world, I wish some had told me that after high I’d have no contact at all with my vernacular class crush or my friends, and the only thing that would remain forever would be my sloppy grades.
3. Smoking cigarettes ain’t really as “cool” as it looks- I started smoking cigarettes in high school, and I only wish that someone would have told me that submitting to peer pressure would only result in bad breath, bad eyesight, possible infertility, and “financial insolvency”.
4. Having multiple sex partners wouldn’t make me feel less lonely- I’m no Mike Lowrey but my dynamism in character, my “way with words” and my light skin tone have placed me in linen sheets a couple of times, but no matter how many I might have been in I never really got what I really needed until I understood that I could have never truly loved anyone until I started with myself.
5. That I wouldn’t be rich at age 23- I have always been obnoxious. I believed I’d be super rich, drive a sports car, own a house on the hills in Cape Town and sleep with different super models every night. I wish someone would have told me to be humble, to engage myself with other people because we all need help from time to time.
6. Not everyone that smiles at me is my friend- Not everyone you call a friend would go the same lengths for you as you would for them, friends you consider brothers might turn on you and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it.
7. That you only regret the chances you didn’t take- i quit making music back in 2010, I returned mid-2014, so the painful truth is I wasted about four years of my life. I just wish someone had told me not to do it, I wish I had taken a shot then, because now I’ve had to come back and do what I could have then.
8. That it is never too late to start over- I remember wishing to write another song but felt it was too late then, and years passed by. I wish someone would have told me that it is never too late, I have only discovered it now, and that it is still not too late, not even now.

There is no such thing as failure, only opportunities to start over.
It is never too later.

HIV/AIDS Does Not Kill People, Society Does

A very strong, beautiful and humble lady has recently tested positive to HIV, she disclosed her status to her family, coincidently her father passed on shortly after that, and then the family blamed the father’s death on her “disturbing news”, she is currently being rejected, judged and called names such as “cold-blooded murder” by her own family.

I also have an aunt who passed on as a result of this virus. She didn’t disclose her status to no one nor go to the clinic for her Meds, and as a result she died a very slow and painful death at a very young age, leaving behind an infected daughter as well. The daughter’s condition is never really discussed, it is referred to as a “thing” and when she had to be taken in by one family member after her mom’s funeral she were tossed around like a play ball and one aunt refused the “responsibility” because she felt “this girl” would also infect her children with this “thing” as well.

HIV/AIDS has been around for way too long that at this point we should be well-informed on how to deal with our infected friends and relatives. The stigma associated with this disease is indescribable, for instance, Ebola is more contagious than HIV, but people still look at HIV/AIDS as the worst thing to ever happen to mankind. We associate people’s HIV statuses with their lifestyle choices; we forget that this is not only about your sexual partner but their sexual partners and their sexual partners’ partners as well, so on and so on. Using a condom decreases your chances of contracting the disease sexually, you have not completely eliminated them nor the other ways it can be contracted as well. It has been repeated tirelessly that HIV/AIDS is not a death sentence, but some people are still uncertain, and they overlook all HIV positive people that testify every day of their long and healthy lives, and will die when they do not of the disease but because of inevitability as death’s true nature to all of us. Some families go as far as giving their infected members their own rooms, own blankets, dishes, cups and even spoons to avoid any contact of any sort with them, for they believe even a handshake with them puts one at risk of contracting the disease.

Many people live long and healthy lives after being diagnosed, most even outlive MacGyver(s) that have never even heard of influenza. Being HIV positive doesn’t automatically mean that you have multiple sexual partners, I know a lady who was a virgin when she met her boyfriend, they only slept once and she was infected and pregnant, so in her case all it took was to be “carried away” once, just once. It is also not a stupid peoples’ disease, a top university law graduate was once diagnosed, and unfortunately like my aunt he passed on because he was also too “proud” to go to the clinic and for everyone to see him fetch his Meds.

AIDS does not kill people, society does. We ostracize, judge and insult, we destroy people mentally by destroying their will to live. Doing such is no different from literally killing a man; you might as well have in fact. Our fellow friends do not need that much from us, the doctors, nurses, counselors and support groups cover it all, and all is left for us is just to continue treating them the same way we always have, and to continue providing the friendly environment they have always loved and enjoyed, and yes, even after discovering their status,
is that too much to ask for?

I Am In Love With A Hundred Girls

Before I say anything, I just want to tell my girlfriend that all the views expressed in this post are not those of her boyfriend’s, but those of most men. I had to address that so she wouldn’t doubt my love for her in any way, plus I know she’s against polygamy and she might deprive me of a couple of “privileges” upon posting this; such as her trust and attention, but one I fear the most is; her body.

This was inspired by a conversation I had with a friend at a mall as we were “window-shopping” beautiful girls, he said “with so many beautiful girls all around, it just feels wrong that we only have to choose one”. I then thought of all the women that I “like” and the thin line between ‘like’ and ‘love’. I “like” black chicks with big booties, white chicks with “supermodel” legs, and I could go on forever because I am attracted to many different ladies for many different reasons; from their mere physical looks, their taste in fashion and most importantly their personalities which are usually the most complex. I love good personality as much as I love the bad ones, from an assertive lady that greets everyone with a smile to a big-headed a–holes who thinks her looks are everything, everyone has a thing for her and she can take any girl’s man anytime she wanted to; for some strange reason that level of stupid confidence really turns me on. I love smart ladies that have never repeated a grade all their lives, top-10 students with all types of academic awards to their names, and independent ladies that obtain shares in a law firms before thirty, but I also have a thing for a high school dropout in leopard print leggings leading the neighborhood’s twerk team.

The only problem with loving all women is you can never have them all, you only have to choose one, and choosing a new one means losing the old one and sometimes you don’t want to leave your relationship for a new one but just add a new person to the current one, the more the merrier right? Another problem is we don’t always date our first choices, take me for instance, I initially wanted to date RnB singer Beyoncé Knowles but I couldn’t because I’m in Africa, I’m less than average in every possible way (in her context of course) plus she’s already married to multi-millionaire rapper JayZ. That still hasn’t stopped me from falling for her, my girlfriend and other 98 women as well.

King Solomon, King Mswati, Jacob Zuma amongst other wise men came up with a solution to this dilemma, polygamy. In my culture it is common practice, but for some strange reason I do not feel comfortable with the idea, never have and probably never will. No woman should be denied the gift of a man’s love, respect and attention devoted to her and only she, only if choosing her was as easy.

I can vent all day but I can never marry a hundred girls, no one can. I will someday mature enough to just choose one woman who truly makes me happy, and if she’s the one I know I’ll never worry about the other 99, no matter how big their breasts and booties can be. I will treat her with the best love and respect that I can, and if you respect someone you would never cheat on them, even if you knew there was not a slightest chance of them finding out.
And at the end of the day;
“It is not really about the most beautiful girl, but it’s all about a girl that makes your world most beautiful”.

Music Is Life

More times than I can remember music has been the only friend for me. It has been there when there was no one, no one to talk to me, no one to listen to but music. A friend told me that he once heard rapper Eminem say that if weren’t for Hip-Hop he would have committed suicide a long time ago, I can’t exactly say the say for me, but I just cannot imagine what I would have been if there was no music to comfort me.

I started writing music in my 8th grade I think, and to this very day I still do. From the 10th grade to my tertiary years I lived with my parents and it was not a healthy environment, especially for children. I remember I’d never be around when they both were, I’d just go to my room, lock myself in and get my rhyme book I call it, and just start writing. Back then I wrote so many songs that I had a big black plastic full of finished rhyme books, and when I didn’t feel like writing I’d get all my old rhyme books and recite songs acapella until I passed out.

I’ve always invested in earphones (well at this point I’ve upgraded to headphones), I’d only go to the kitchen for the food, eat, smoke a cigarette and go straight to my room, put on my earphones, turn the volume up to maximum and escape this world, I’d wake up to a shockingly disturbing loud blast in my ears at about one AM, like oh sh*t!! I must have passed out with my music on, again.

Truth is; my parents had a very disturbing relationship. You could never spend time with them together without having to watch them fight about any and everything, and the insults they threw at each other carelessly were too graphic for a child’s imagination. So nothing ever made sense to me, it’s like my world fell apart before it even took form, honestly, I gave up in life before I even tried. A very large portion of me believed the quarrels were instigated by father, I could have never blamed my mother, a humble country girl who worked in other people’s houses, crossed towns on bare feet and would never tire of it all just to feed us, whilst my father was a very disturbing alcoholic who had given up working because it interfered with his drinking schedule, ate everything he could found in the fridge just to mock mom’s hard work and laid hands on a woman who had subsequently assumed his role as the head of the house.

I despised him so much, so I did with life and everything that came with being alive. I loved my elder sister and my younger brother so much, still do, and maybe as much as music actually. This one time I was up late at night watching music videos when a song by RnB icon Babyface came on, it’s called Sorry for the stupid things. That song literally saved my life, it changed the way I looked at my parents’ relationship, it made me to consider that maybe I did not understand, and yes I really didn’t understand why father had quit his job, had been so “devoted” to green and brown bottles as well as why he said such harsh things to us and lay hands on such a beautiful woman. I did not understand, I also didn’t understand why she stayed, why she put up with him, still fed him, and even did his washing after she had been so tired after walking home from one of her many piece jobs.

But I did understand though. I understood that I would never understand, that I needed to take my eye off them for a minute and focus on myself a bit, rebuild my will to live, my confidence and that positive outlook I once had on life back when I lived with grandma.