When my father was still alive, he was kind of dead to me.
And when he finally died for real, I cried desperately wishing he were still alive;
Even if it was just for me.
When my father was still alive, he was kind of dead to me.
I work at a shopping mall, so I am exposed to all types of people. I work in a women’s shop specifically, so I am exposed to all types of women, beautiful women of all kinds and so I’ve been mad nuts about my job so far, well, until today.
It has been all sunshine and rainbows, until today. There was a bomb scare at the mall; I recall packing Gucci perfumes peacefully when a pile of people ran in the store full of panic, at first I thought they were probably being chased by robbers raiding the mall, and I figured I had nothing to worry about because I had nothing but a rewards card and a R30 in my pocket. But, as they ran around like headless chickens screaming “Bomb” “Bomb” I realize my R30 is nothing as compared to what I’m about to lose. Funny I still stood there for a moment, figured this must be a joke of some sort, but facial expressions around the store suggested otherwise, so my mind pictured Man On Fire by Denzel Washington, the infamous 9/11 bombing of the towers in the States, and most recently, the church collapse in Nigeria that killed more than 80 South Africans, and then after that I can’t really say where the perfumes or the people that were before me disappeared to, because all I remember is me looking back at the shopping mall from the outside and seeing all the other staff from other shops and shoppers that were running towards me, and there I was thinking to myself “Life is short”.
If I had died today I would have never witnessed my niece grow, make my mother proud nor visit Tokyo, life is really that short.
Still on that thought, I am even scared to go back to work tomorrow, what if the terrorist is mad as f*ck right now that his mission got ruined and he’ll return tomorrow to finish the job? Nope, I rather stay home. Plus, my manager will inquire about the Gucci stock that was in my possession, how will I account?
When I joined WordPress I never introduced myself properly, my apologies, I’d like to rectify my mistake, hopefully it’s not too late.
Ubuntu is my legacy. Most artists’ earlier work is never discovered, and I’d be dammed if the same happened to mine, so I’ve decided to store my stories, articles and poetry here, to make it easier for future literature scholars to discover them some day, and share them with a larger audience hopefully.
I have struggled a lot, from my parents leaving me to be raised by grandparents who never truly wanted to, as I struggle with sharing a sense of belonging to this very day. To living with my dad and stepmom, daddy was an alcoholic so he never truly was around and stepmom drew a line so vivid between “step” and “mom” that even a blind person could see it. Needless to say it didn’t work out in the end, so my aunt took me in, but reminded me every single day that nobody else wanted me, manipulated my gratitude and expected to be sung praises to like she was in fact God, The Book Of Yeezus. Mom only returned around my 10th grade, she and dad had reconciled by then, but he was then unemployed due to his alcoholism which significantly consumed him, so he was a nightmare to live with, not only were we that poor, but we were also abused, so picture being kicked in your “empty” stomach for no bloody reason at all.
Long story short, it is indeed a miracle to be sitting behind a computer screen and writing articles instead of being in a grave, or facing time in a maximum security prison. The day I had to grace prison, the victim dropped all charges. He gave us a second chance, as God did in countless instances that my crew “collided” with other crews and we came back in one piece. And God gave me a second chance, when he ensured my absence the day my close friend stabbed a man to death and was sentenced 25 to life.
My greatest tales are my greatest shames. No one has ever truly understood me, my high school teachers told me I had no potential to be anything at all, fellow students constantly mocked me and ostracized me, that loneliness has stuck with me to this very day, so much that in tertiary I only said about 10 words in a 3-year whole course, and in every job I’ve ever had I’d just read my book peacefully during lunch breaks that eventually co-workers would get me fired.
I’m currently unemployed, so this blog is to keep busy, make new friends and prevent insanity. I will tell you a lot about myself, assume a lot about you and the world around us, if you have so much time to yourself as I do, you happen to become very “creative”, trust me. Hopefully someone out there will relate, even it’s just one person, I will have fulfilled my duty.
I dream big, too big, and I want everyone with dreams as big as mine to know that they are not crazy, and to not let non-dreamers discourage them anyhow, even if it’s your best friend, lover or even your mama, they can’t tell you what you can or cannot be, the world is your oyster.
And to my dad, Rest in Peace Cowboy, we have forgiven you, forgive yourself as well. To my late son, daddy loves you so much, and he would have climbed mountains and swum with sharks just so you could have one good ass life, Rest in Peace young solder.
And to the rest of the world, I appreciated you reading this to these very last words, and hopefully it’s not the last time.
Thank you so much, and my apologies again for not doing this sooner.
My grandma used to say; “there are no shortcut to success, and if you find one, expect a shortcoming in the end”.
“Hustlers”, often justify; “God helps those who help themselves”. This statement is deliberately misinterpreted to justify selfish deeds, it must have initially meant something like ‘he who applies gets the job in the end’, and not ‘when a cashier accidentally gives you more change than due, keep it, for God’s looking out for you’.
A former SAA head of security retired young, bought taxis, five other cars and a home for his family in the suburbs. Was his retirement package really that much? Nope, instead he was rumored to have been assisting foreign country men to smuggle drugs into South Africa during his time in the national flight agency, and resigned before getting busted. He had truly cheated karma, but, this morning he was brutally murdered by two gunmen dressed as traffic police officers, they pulled his Mercedes Benz C63 AMG over, opened fire, and he died on the scene.
He had got away with allowing drugs into his country, corruption in the work place, blood money, and the lives of young women abducted each day to smuggle with. He overlooked the pain of parents whose kids use the stuff, the goods they steal home, girls who prostitute themselves, grownups who sell their clothes, cars, even homes for their next “fix’.
It really doesn’t matter how little your sin is, but ultimately you pay for it. What you hide from us is not hidden from She, so that Bitch Karma will eventually catch up to you.
Nothing justifies taking from another man, nothing at all.
In a night full of stars he looked up, it read; “The world is yours”. The feeling instantly filled him with such pride, from just another refugee to living the America dream; Cuban cigars, finest women and cars with luxurious leather interior, “Sweet Jesus, one has truly made it America”. But, in the end as he laid cold on his mansion’s swimming pool, in a pool of his own blood he must had some sort of flashback, a moment to himself to realized the world was really not his, had it been, it wouldn’t have swallowed him this easy. Tony Montana.
Whenever I fall ill I just think of death, and all I’d miss out on was the unfortunate to happen. My obsession with death is really not suicidal, but quite the opposite actually. I have so much I’d like to do, and I sometimes wonder if one lifetime is enough really. At what could be my death bed I just decided to write about the first five things that came to mind was this to be the death of me.
1. I’d never get to witness my baby grow- I am expecting my first child around August this year, I could miss out on anything, just not her dear Lord , please not her.
2. I’d never get to see myself a successful man- I’ve always wanted to be a millionaire, to wear Tom Ford suits (and look like James Bond), and ever since the movie Tokyo Drifting I’ve always wanted to see Tokyo as well, and to drive a Ford Mustang ’63.
3. I’d never get to release my own studio album- I’ve been working so hard recording music and trying to get a recording deal lately. And if I were to die today I’d miss out on all that, the groupie love, and customized tour buses, and traveling half the world if not all of it.
4. I’d never get to “see” my celebrity crush of all times- Beyoncé is the “baddest bish” of our times, and one day I hope to see her in person. I’d do more than “see” her but let’s be realistic, who am I kidding?
5. I’d never get to look hot- Before my life is over I really want to have a hot body. God hasn’t seen me since before birth, and if we’re to meet soon I better look so damn good that even he might blush a bit when he sees me.
And before we all get worked up over my sickness; yes I have spent most of my day tucked in bed with a bad headache and feeling nauseous, but a hot cup of coffee, pills and an early night will sort me out just fine, so much that I’d even jog all the way from Johannesburg to Houston to “see” Beyoncé.