Some people like having problems, for various reasons. If they come back, you are still the problem they just like having you around as one of their problems to solve. This already creates an unhealthy relationship because they believe they have control over you and you believe that that control is jealousy which is often somehow seen as a green flag.

You need to understand sooner that people never intentionally lose things they consider to be valuable to them.

If the relationship has reached its boiling point where the only passion found is to smash your significant other’s head on the wall then it is probably best to let go before you even catch a case.

Time does not seem to heal wounds faster than I thought. We just learn to live with the wounds over time.

No amount of apologies can ever replace the thought of them hitting your head against a wall. Remember, it is the thought that counts after all.

of which I am going to stab you with

The type of cut that will disturb you

the way you were always comfortable disturbing me

The type of cut that will have you bleeding infront of me

Being the shark that I am

My teeth are not sharp

I fail to send this paragraph

But, your time with me is over

call a cab

Your brain is the first of its kind

should really be studied in a lab

You’re high on being low, go to rehab

The opportunities I was dumb enough to let you grab

Live rent-free in my mind like all the things you said while I let you blab

You dug your claws deep within my skin like a desperate crab

And my permission you were given with a mind lighter than a gab

I hope these words hit you like a jab

You disgust me, the last goodbye shouldn’t even be a dab

Find better hobbies than to nab

I feel sorry for your balls that have to hang with you all day everyday, dear poor pieces of flab

Without you, there’s no block in my way like a slab

Blow away you bad spirited child, like smoke out of a fresh tab.

My parents are the main reason why I fear having children. I am a combination of both these difficult individuals, but if I have a child, I know I wouldn’t treat them this way.

The pain your mother causes can never be described, nor shared amongst other people. They will just assume you are disrespectful and not grateful.

She has made me cry so many times that now my tears are eager for a different reason to come out.

My heart has been broken to the point where I am now able to swallow disappointment like a pill trusted to numb where it hurts.

I fear writing about the things she does because I fear people knowing that side of me. The remorse that makes you question your sanity. The “I didn’t know”s. I think I will continue to thug it out.

I have a lot of friends who are without mothers and I cried the first time I learnt about their situation.

When I am happy, I cannot imagine my life without her, but when I am sad, I wish I was never her own. I wish I was like an “account not found” like on Instagram, but except this time around, it would be the never-was of my existence.

I want my own space. To free her. Maybe I am the problem. But how, when I followed every rule? I literally have no child, I’m not active, there are no boys on my phone, I don’t smoke, I occasionally drink, I barely go out - these were approved by her. I got good grades, but still, that could never be enough.

Maybe if I do the total opposite, it will be enough.

This is the type of pain that makes you jump into a deep pool knowing very well you can’t swim.

She is my first bully, the person I look up to, but I get scolded for looking up too high, which reveals to me her imperfections.

What is the point of being in the same body as you for 9 months if we only bond when I can’t talk?

These very opinions are what make me, me.

Or must I stay shut like a Jew under Hitler’s reign?

What is it that you like about me when I’m helpless? Is it the bragging and boasting you’ll do when I learn language?

The moment when you realise they’ll slap you for using curse words. Pardon me, they seem to be the only language you’re fluent in.

I am not disrespectful. I am humble. I love and appreciate all that you do for me, but I am so sorry for considering it as part of your job.

I didn’t ask to be born. Why do I have to live life like I have been asked to make this decision?

Are these the trying times they talked about in the Bible, because then the only thing I am trying is to get away. Even if I do it voluntarily.

But how dare I say something like that when I’m yet to have my own children and make them feel nothing like my parents did to me.

It’s true what they say, don’t be too quick to judge a book by its cover. This place has been without a mall for years but suddenly they’re building one just in time for our use.

My brother who is an artist painted one of the walls at the mall. I have been meaning to write about how happy I am for him but our sibling rivalry has been getting in the way.

Anyway, I cannot wait to visit the mall and pass that wall each time. Like, yes, my own brother did that! I take my makeup thing as a hobby because I still want to secure degrees but hopefully this very hobby will take me places some day too.

My brother has done such incredible work and I am glad I witnessed it all; the blood, swear and tears. I know this is only the beginning and I sincerely hope he’s ready to outlive his own expectations. He’s not going to see this but I love you Mo (his other name is Moses) and I know you know that I love you. WE love you, infact. You are still annoying though!

BIG UP BROSKIEEEEEEE

Nedbank has outdone themselves. There’s a new advertisement of theirs that follows the story of a young man who gets to live the “soft life”

He gets his dream car, dream house, fancy clothes, goes places, and is always in the VIP section, popping champagne, betting via horses, and the whole lot alongside his lovely wife.

This soft life quickly becomes a nightmare when every “approved” now becomes “insufficient funds”. He starts to bet at casinos instead of horse racing events. He starts drinking at pubs when he used to drink at expensive outlets. He starts having trouble handling his finances, and his wife eventually leaves him.

I cannot make you guys understand just how beautifully crafted this advert was. You just have to see it for yourself!

What I love about it is that, at the end, it asks, “What is your relationship with money?” and many people do not think they even have a relationship with money. They just think they are in control of it and it can be spent however they want to.

Nedbank reframes the regular “I blew it” story. The main character still has money, but not as much as he used to. He can still afford a motel room after his house was taken, but he is all alone. He could’ve maximized his potential, but he felt comfortable overspending while labelling it as “enjoying the fruits of my hard labour”

Just like a normal advertisement, it is short and straight to the point, but only real eyes realise its real value.

I am not a chronic couch potato, but I would turn on my TV just to see this one playing.

My God, what a work of art! It changed my mind — in every sense of the phrase.

I remember when I was still obsessed with braiding my hair; the higher the pain, the prettier I’ll be...

When kids let out their pee in a public pool, all they think about is, “at least I got to relieve myself”. They don’t think about the consequences, only themselves.

A dog gets to be outside on a leash, but it thinks, “as long as I got to be out in the sun and let my barks fill the air”

There’s at least and as long.

At least is when you admit that the good times have come to an end, but AT LEAST you got them at some point.

As long is when you are still enjoying your good days and you think, AS LONG as you have these good days with what and/or who you chose, then all is well.

You are my as long in a world full of at leasts.

Be it peanuts, walnuts, chestnuts, you name it

But his nuts?

I’m like Scrat from Ice Age

I love his nuts but

I’m not obsessed

I’d choose them to be mine but a different cloth we’re both cut

from, your lips to your tip I bite, go ahead and call me a mutt

From your lips to my hips, lick it like a lollipop...what?

The voices in my head remain shut

This is what I want

Dressed in a trenchcoat, towards your direction I’ll strut

He’s a Zulu man, we’ll do it even in a hut

Respecting the elderly, I’ll not moan I’ll remain shut

I’m Cinderella for the night and my shoe is the word “slut”

It fits me perfectly tonight

You fit me perfectly all these nights

When we get caught I will tut

Put it all in, let it reach my gut

Doja Cat said “slap me, choke me, bite me” yes, leave trails like a rut

Mark your territory, leave a cut

Do it gently like a putt

You’re Puss, I’m your boots

Puss in boots

The vibration of my voice I pray makes your manhood jut

And again I am not obsessed

I am NUT OBSESSED

As someone who is madly in love with her toes, I quickly understood why she hates them.

They were ugly. She said that her man who she has been together with for months doesn’t know the sight of her toes.

That is such a red flag, I thought to myself. If her man had to identify her using her toes he would dismally fail because he doesn’t have a single clue how they look like.

So now what is the point of being head over heels for someone you don’t even know completely.

It’s HEAD - so tell your boyfriend to take off his hat and if you don’t like what you see, start dating hats instead; over HEELS - so also tell your girlfriend to take off her socks when y’all are love making and if you don’t like what’s meant for you to put in your mouth then stick to eating animal heels you cannibal!

but I wish you had your very own secret hideout

The people I block are normally annoying

But you could never fit that phrase

Or maybe you do, sometimes...

They should separate blocklists : Bad, bad, bad guys and just regular bad guys

Bad, bad, bad guys are the ones that really have to be blocked, no doubt

The ones that can’t learn to take no as an answer

The ones you consider opening a protection order for

Then the regular bad guys are just the ones who are blocked as a result of their actions

Blocking them is like making them stand at the naughty corner

And as they slightly bend their knees in fatigue and mumble a sincere apology in between their deep sighs

The punishment is deemed over

For you love your good potatoes to ever put them all in one sack with the rest of the rotten ones

Your surroundings are contagious after all!

of everyone’s grind

but just like a real fan

I stop working sometimes

It’s not the power supply from which I draw my energy from

I guess I just have to stop working at some point

But try telling that to my workaholic trait

To which my value has been so deeply attached to

No work, no value

No, no work, still valuable I mutter before shutting down

“pressure produces diamonds” but can diamonds do the work that pressure does?

I’m a fan

of everything that I do

But sometimes an air conditioner takes my job

Sometimes the air that I provide is not enough to stop the hot flashes I get from being myself :

doing what feels right and what I seem to love

I am a fan

who sometimes is in desperate need of the very air I was built to give

I guess it’s true what they say

we are to people what we wish we had in our own lives...

Don’t take that the wrong way,

I mean it in the most understanding way ever.

But I like how I would rather shave my armpits than my private part when I plan to meet up with you,

For the fun we’ll have will make my armpits sweat and not my underwear(s) fall.

I like how our conversations keep on flowing so much so that the silence in between isn’t loud, it’s just… peaceful

I like how in tune we are for almost every exact situation happens to us simultaneously!

I like that for so long I tried running away from this feeling only to meet you half way through my sprint with a bottle of water and ready as ever to pat my back.

Maybe you are not my soulmate.

But I want to love you like how your soulmate would.

Is it easy to fit a description you assigned yourself with or is it easy to pretend you’re

someone you’re not?

Silly way to put it, isn’t it?

Who fully experiences life when we all get to die having not done a few things...

Anyway, I attend an OLD SCHOOL

I like computers over laptops

Mascara over lash extensions

Fringe cowboy like clothing over tight dresses with splits

Home made black coffee over the aesthetic americano

Notebooks over the notes app on my phone

Manual window cranks over unnecessarily complicated buttons to open up windows

Wood cabins over villas

Only my car will get the justice to be modern

Anything other than that, consider me old school.

The blankets warmer than a bowl of soft porridge

Soft porridge, wishing I could have that

No wonder my pillow is full of drool when I wake up

It tells the story of my hungry stomach

I am dreaming of eating while sleeping

Bad luck?

I want to eat while sleeping and not in a dream

Efficiently timely, that should be good luck!

I get so famished around these times

Are demons cooking their breakfast?

The way I don’t plan on getting up proves that I could eat just about anything

But I am picky even in my sleep

So I will indulge in these dreams I was told were sweet

Recently, I do not like titles unless the right guy asks, of course. I am talking to this other guy, and it’s hilarious how he thinks he “pulled” me. Just by answering his texts, he considers me his. How?

And I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news just yet. I want him to think he has me in the palm of his hands, and then one day I will drop the bomb.

He opened up so quickly, and I literally cannot. I only open up that quickly to my home girls. And I don’t think there’s enough transparency among men.

They don’t talk about things that affect them enough. It’s almost always about the same thing, which gets excessively boring over time, leading them to think that action of any kind is better than a random conversation.

So when a girl steps into their life, they will throw at her things they’ve always wanted to say and do so that they sleep better at night. Now there’s no distinction whether you are their therapist or girlfriend.

I understand everyone who’s suffering deserves some form of comfort, but I fail to comfort guys who only think about themselves. If it’s really a relationship that you want, then you should consider every little thing — how what you say will affect them, the view they assigned you with, or how your actions show a whole lot more than words ever could.

If you really love them, you would understand the “if it's good, send it my way. If it’s bad, keep it private” line. A relationship is not supposed to feel like you’ll be wrong for leaving them. It’s not supposed to make you want to treat them better just because they weren’t lucky before. That’s not your responsibility.

You can never always be in charge of how things turn out. This is why I continue to break hearts. There’s no way you say you love me, but just in a week of knowing each other, you trauma dump.

I have my own issues. I am on a journey of self-discovery. The last thing I need is an “I trusted you” plea paragraph. So yes, I don’t care what you went through. I care about how you got through it, or how you are in the process of doing exactly that.

Males, please take tips from the ladies and be transparent about everything concerning you as an individual, and save that poor girl’s mental health and time. Please and thank you!

Gosh, now that I think about it, I should’ve done that sooner!

Had I still been in contact with them, I would’ve continued to be an ass licker, a shoe kisser, a “what can I do for you to make YOU happy?”

I love that I am who I feel like being. People think this is a phase, that I will soon enough outgrow it and rather fortune that will only happen when I die. Actually, wait I will still be this “different” even after death if given the opportunity.

If I still communicated with them, I would’ve accepted that I am as crazy as they put it and maybe, just maybe it is not as bad as I thought.

Sorry to bust anyone’s “she’ll change” bubble but I only wish to be worse. To be more. And if you feel like I’m unrecognisable, guess what? That’s a YOU problem. And the day, some people learn that make-up is a form of self expression is the day we’ll all be comfortable fully expressing who we truly are. Gladly, my self love is big enough to compensate for your unexplained and unnecessary animosity towards me.

There are some rural-like settlements in between the “I want to visit that place” spots that are almost never talked about in the news.

Those places are lacking electricity, roads, and toilets. Imagine having to live in a place where 3 of your basic human rights are being ignored.

As it rains, some love it because it’s been a while. Others hate to see rain coming. Not because they lack depth or don’t know that nature is beautiful even in its violent acts, but because to them rain means sleepless nights.

Having to second-guess the roof that managed to safeguard them throughout the non-rain periods. Kids having to wake up extra early to avoid getting hit by the harsh winds and rain. Employed individuals having to walk on the slipperiest untarred roads ever, as if Curious George and his friends left banana peels for a red carpet.

The news lately has been showing the jolly side of this weather. The “let’s build a snowman” — as if Frozen is around to impress. They assure us every single day that they do not take any sides, so why are they not reporting live from such places?

Let me guess, it’s hard to get there? Start building roads then, because you are only showing us one side of a four-sided figure. You are showing us the movie and not the green screen, the supporting actors and actresses, the overall backstage shenanigans.

What makes you think reporting the “good” side is reporting all sides?

If it takes two to tango, then let it take two sides to be shown on TV, because the ugly thing about the “ugly side” is that it’s not shown.

If there’s up to down, left to right, and wax to wane, then live by your word! Show all sides! Prove ukuthi nizimele futhi anithathihlangothi!

Do I need to ask a trusted adult for permission to have sex?

Do I really have to absorb the knowledge put before my existence?

To what extent do I have to keep pretending that I don’t want to engage in such activities?

I’m no slut, but can I do it without the unbearable guilt afterwards?

Can I say I’ve enjoyed every minute without feeling like I have just let demons run loose?

Isn’t it lovely that I get to choose?

Isn’t it a shame that we believe the ones we let in are worth it?

Isn’t it a pity that sex is sort of a taboo? How are STIs supposed to be stopped from rising when kids aren’t allowed to even say the word “sex”?

How would you go about preventing something you have no clue about, because to you, sex is a forbidden fruit — one you’re just keen to taste, to see how sweet it could really be.

If porn is still available to be watched by literally anyone, then “The Talk” should happen sooner than the time planned.

I don’t dispute what is in the Bible, but God can surely forgive me for indulging in one or two pieces of flesh He made to look so edible. I guess that’s why Gen Z calls people “snacks” nowadays.

And I’d like to think my mind is like the graveyard, full of unsaid things

An earthquake in my hands

Hair itching like each strand is an ant

I feel my heart beat and I swear it’s shy by how slow it’s beating

My nails have become my meals

My toilet visits are like my extended family visits, they don’t occur very often

Others ask “where is my soulmate?” I ask “where is my soul, mate?”

When it feels safer to let your tears down at night

For not even carrots can help you see the pain inside me

Mom, it’s stress I’m not fat

I’m depressed but still make sure that I am the best dressed

Somebody should invent clothes for the face

My wallet is like Mr Bean’s

Only a fly you can find

Wait, I don’t even have a wallet

I was wondering when my poor memory was going to make its appearance today

My posture resembles a wilting flower but I am working on it don’t worry

“don’t worry” is equivalent to trusting in the government, right?

No, left. And ten steps back because I reached out first having been the one who left first too.

I’m going to save up money and buy soaps in bulk so I can wash away these sins and sorrows

No, don’t tell me that’s impossible! First, it was “Santa’s not real” and now this?

Let me believe in unicorns the way you don’t believe I can make it

If my guardian angel is with me spiritually I hope she didn’t catch one of the hardest upper cuts I just threw straight up in frustration

I guess she did considering the lack of guidance I have nowadays

Did she see stars and me as one of them?

The way some people find comfort in the rain while others despise it is how I’d wish to feel about you — to make people wonder what it is about you that I like.

The way we water plants and make sure they have all they need is how I’d wish to support you, to provide you with everything you need to grow.

But then, to be someone’s anything is a huge responsibility. I am looking for growth myself. Can I be trusted to provide what I already don’t have at the moment?

Is the feeling of only wanting something badly, enough to let you have it?

Do we know what we want when we don’t know why we want it?

I chose to continue using it. It was honestly the best decision I have ever made.

I matriculated last year and had ample time to explore my artistic side. I now create facebeats, and I thought: why not create one for this incredible brand?

Vaseline is commonly associated with the colour blue, and blue is often linked to sadness. However, I believe blue is the coolest colour there is. For example, we are told to let the sky be the limit to our aspirations — and the sky is blue.

They say love is as deep as the ocean, and love is the greatest thing of all. And as you may have already figured, water is blue too.

How clever, then, to have a brand that embodies love and all the beautiful things that make life worth living.

I call Vaseline “the line that never hangs up” because it has always been there for me.

It’s like a hotline that stays on until sleep finds you.

I also admire that it is multipurpose. You can use it as a moisturizer for your face, hands, and body. You can use it as a convenient and affordable makeup remover. You can use it as a lip balm. You can use it as an ointment to help heal wounds and rashes, and more.

The pictures I took to highlight the excellence of this brand are not perfect, but they are authentic — just like my love for Vaseline.

I hope that one day I can be a brand ambassador for Vaseline.