Love

Mbalenhle

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Mbalenhle

2008 and I am the new kid at school, I am in a foreign environment, everything is different, the kids are different, the culture at school is different, we have white kids here and the kids can bring their cellphones to school. That’s unbelievable! At my previous school, you couldn’t bring your cellphone to school, that was forbidden but when you got to the 7th grade, you had your own toilets that nobody else could use! Reserved only for the seniors of the schools, exclusively for grade 7’s, nobody else used them. The toilets were nicer, they were cleaner and they smelt good. Afterschool when everybody went home, I would use the toilets reserved only for the grade 7’s. It was a dream to be a senior and to be able to use those toilets. I never did, I left when I was in the 6th grade. Maybe I should have stayed one more year and concluded my primary education there, if not for the education then at least for the toilets. I was popular, I was the best poet in the school, I was in the school choir, I played sports and I was destined to be a “Counselor”, a “Counselor” was a “Prefect”. I so wanted to be a counselor and my chances were so good, it was basically guaranteed that I’d be one had I been a senior, but I left. I chased the feeling of wanting to be the new kid in a different environment, it excited me, it was my decision, I wanted a change. The new school was formal, we had a demerit system, that was new to me, I mean the idea of transgressions? It basically stated what learners could and could not do, like a free pass, the whole system perpetuated behavior it seeked to avoid because now technically I can get away with murder and have a few points docked. We never had that in my previous school and you never would have gotten away with murder! Not surprisingly, the kids in my new school were quite liberated, there was an entitlement about them, they were smug, they knew they had rights and they were arrogant. For me it was a big shift in culture but it was cool, small stuff, I could handle it.

For the first few days, I was under the radar, I moved in stealth and acquainted myself with the new environment. On breaks I sat alone and listened to music on my cellphone, something that suited me because I am introverted, I was happy but I got friends fairly quickly and by the third day I was chilling with some kid on breaks. His name was Tefu, strange kid, tall and lanky, looked way bigger for his age, was a year or two bigger than me but I liked him. Months elapsed and I made new friends, Tefu and I were not that close anymore. One of my new friends Mondli also a relatively new kid was a hip-hop head and an aspiring cool kid. Mondli loved the ladies. Our class had the most beautiful girls in the school, no lie, I counted at least 3 girls that I liked. I still remember their names, Leala, Mbalenhle and Amelia. My first preference was Leala but the other two were cute. Luckily I sat next to Leala because her surname starts with a “P” and mine with an “S”, so we sat towards the end. If we sat in pairs, I sat with Leala. She was brilliant, smart, beautiful and creative. She had a personality that was made of gold, Leala was cool, her energy was calm. We connected, we used to talk all the time, I knew her, she became my friend. I even knew who she had a crush on, it was this white kid named “Chad” and you could see the dreamy eyes on Leala’s face whenever she was around Chad. Her body language was different, she was flirty, she wanted Chad to see her. Chad changed schools in the 3rd week but I knew Leala’s Kyrptonite. One day I blurted out that she liked Chad and she transformed, something in her changed, it was as if she were possessed by demons, she made a scene in front of the whole class and told me off, she dismissed me like a naughty child that needed discipline, everyone’s attention was cast on me and I became the butt of the joke so everyone laughed. Right there I knew that Chad was a sensitive issue, never mess with a young girls feelings but her reaction confirmed my suspicions, I touched a nerve, I was right and she knew it. Later because me and her were so tight she confirmed that I was right.

Leala was my closest friend, we didn’t chill together on breaks or anything like that but in class we talked a lot and our conversations were fire! We liked each other’s company, we laughed a lot, we were comfortable with one another, she was my friend. Still, outside the classroom I needed to fit in or risk being ostracized by my peers. I invested my time with Mondli. He had the biggest crush on Mbalenhle and it was warranted, Mbali was beautiful! She was the most beautiful girl in school hands down! He told me about her and made advances on her. All day, every day, he used to talk about Mbali and he transferred the fever on to me. I started noticing her more and more till finally, I fell in love with her. She haunted my conscious reality, all I thought about was her. So I decided to do something, through some clever maneuvering, I managed to get her numbers, fine I got them from Mondli but I was in stealth mode, I stole them, he didn’t know I had them. After getting the numbers, I sent her an SMS professing my love for her. It was such a cowardly SMS, my feelings were all over the place, it’s so embarrassing. It had a lot of anonymity, I didn’t want her to know who it was from, it was just about getting it out of myself. Like “Eish Mbali you are the most beautiful girl in the world and I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t believe I am saying this but I love you”, you know some simp stuff, I can’t quote it word for word because I don’t remember it but it was something along those lines. The next day, everybody in the class knew about the SMS, the horror, luckily I didn’t sign my name. She knew it was not from Mondli because she had his number and they were chatting on mxit. She asked me straight up if it was from me, I denied it. Like “Me? Never! I don’t even have your number”. It was a sneaky little SMS, I used a different number and I later disposed of the sim card. It was better that way. I mean why did the whole class know about the SMS? Although I wanted her to know that I loved her, taking ownership of the SMS was suicide, I avoided it but she knew it was from me, you could see it in her eyes, she was certain, there was no one else, but she didn’t probe further, she let things be.

After the SMS, things changed for her, despite my awkward and nervous energy, she grew fonder of me, it was in the way she looked at me, her gaze was intense and focused, she didn’t shy away from letting me know that she was staring, she had pet names for me, when my friends were teasing me in class she defended me, she blew me kisses, I freaked out! I have never had a girlfriend before, I don’t know what to do! YES SURE, I am in love with her but I don’t know what to do! I was just an artsy, awkward kid so I didn’t do anything. I followed my purpose, wrote poetry and dominated the district instead. On the last day of school, she wrote her numbers on my shirt, she stopped being subtle, she wanted me to call her, I never did. I wish I did something with Mbalenhle but I was a coward that’s why I am writing this instead.

I am not him

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I am not him

I am not him,
it’s wrong that you compare me to him.
It’s not fair,
you claim you over him
yet you connected like an active sim.

I won’t do it,
I just won’t do it,
I’d much rather let you walk away.
It’s going to tear me apart
but I won’t let you lead me astray.

I am not him,
you have history and he taught you everything you know.
Your love was pure and as white as snow.

I could never taint the canvas you created with my dirty brush.
You were his girl and you were my crush.
Every time we locked eyes,
I just blushed,
emotions spiked,
time moved faster
and I felt I was rushed.
I could never give you what he did,
I’d be flushed.

I am not him,
he was your first serious boyfriend
while I was just a boy-friend.
What he did with you fills the deep end,
while I am busking in the sun and walking on land.
We two different people and a compromise is quicksand.

I won’t do it,
his shoes are too big to fill.
You were a virgin before him
and he taught you how to feel.
I am not having it like a promiscuous girl on the pill
cause,
you still rave about him like his paying the bill.

Nope,
I am not him,
you’re not ready to move on.
You holding up progress and your tears are a turn off.

I am not him,
it’s wrong that you compare me to him.
Your constant on and off
Makes my heart go dim.

Cherry Wine

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Cherry Wine

One day I hope to have the right amount of sensitivity, experience, finesse and creativity to execute a song like Cherry Wine. I can safely say it’s my favorite song of all time by miles. It’s the song that made to go to the music store to purchase that “Life Is Good” album. Yes, the album was hyped up and I loved the two singles, “Daughters” produced by No I.D and Summer on Smash produced by Swizz Beats but I didn’t make the decision as of yet to purchase the album. Then one day, I came home from school and the music channel was debuting “Cherry Wine”, so I gazed onto the TV screen and was transported to pure music heaven, the song paralyzed me and I was in awe, “wow”, I thought. I knew that my life would be altered forever, I mean it was Nas and Amy Winehouse – Salaam Remi on the credits. To this day Amy Winehouse is still my favorite artist. I watched that “Cherry Wine” video and I fell in love. It’s so hypnotic and Nas is so thoughtful, expressive and articulate. He makes you reminisce about the past while being hopeful of the future, while Amy is dreaming out loud, her mind drifting on top of clouds and she’s yearning for this man who is just like her to come take her away, she feels alone, she feels vulnerable, it’s sad, it’s moving, it’s meaningful, it’s poetry, it’s life, it’s art. The beat, the horns, the verses and Amy’s vocals, it’s just a beautiful song – perfect! I was a bit sentimental because Amy Winehouse had past on a couple of months prior and “Cherry Wine” was her last song and it was with Nas! Nas is amazing! I wish I could write a song like that. After I watched that video, I downloaded the song and it was actually better than the video – the video was shortened but on the mp3 Amy goes on and makes the song her own. “Cherry Wine” changed things for me, I bought the “Life Is Good” album. The album is one of the best CDs I’ve ever bought. “Life is good” is a masterpiece, a certified Nas classic, I love it, one of my favorite hip-hop albums of all time. The first CD I have ever bought was “God’s Son” by Nas. Also a classic, had songs like “Get Down”, “I Can”, Dance” and “Heaven”, yea that was a great album. Illmatic is unbelievable! Still if I had just one wish, I’d wish to create a song like “Cherry Wine”. I want the mood, the aesthetics, the Jazz sound and melodies, the feel and an artist as talented as Amy Winehouse to take center stage. I would also talk about Love and what I want in a woman. Like Nas, I’d give Amy the space to make that song hers. I’d also name my song “Cherry Wine”, that’s my dream. I know creating content like “Cherry Wine” is difficult, Nas suffered through divorce to make it happen. That’s the beauty of “Life Is Good”, it’s so personal. I am open to endure suffering to create great art. One day when I have the resources and talent, I am going to create all of this and it’s going to be the most awesome thing ever!

Yea, Nas is my favorite rapper. He made things easy for me with King’s Disease, KD2, Magic and KD3. Shout-out to Hit-boy for producing all of those Classics. He is still Escobar, Nasty Nas, he hasn’t switched up, he is still Nas! His flow, rhymes, storytelling and word play is of the highest quality. The longevity under his belt unbelievable, 30 years at the top and he is still hungry for more. He is a living legend. He was never something he was not, he didn’t appease the culture, he never dumbed down, he was just Nas. I respect that, I admire that. He is a shinning light. He inspires me.

Cookie Monster

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Cookie Monster

I love cookies, num, num, num, num! I devour them to make you cum, cum, cum, cum! Oreos are my favorite, I like to lick what’s in between like a serpent to taste the air. Twist it into two to make it a pair, lick the white off to show some care and pound the black like you wouldn’t compare. I am a cookie connoisseur, I explore under hoods to locate the perfect spot, stick my tongue in to enter the lot, and abuse the inhabitant to send me to court. I am a master of the clit, they go bananas like split cause my tongue game is so lit. Cookies are my favorite, I am addicted, it’s like fame. Whether breakfast, lunch or dinner, it’s all the same. Sometimes I’ll eat them as a snack and hide the shame, different brands tend to cause pain, it’s viewed as infidelity and I am not vain. Truth be told, I can’t commit to one brand till I am old. Variety exists and different brands are sold, and so I am bold, eating all the cookies in my zone. Experimenting and licking everything like ice cream cones. Although I don’t want to be alone, I can’t let go of the different cones, they satisfy and give me pleasure, I won’t do it, they are apart of me like bones. I love different cookies, I spit on them before I eat them, to mark my territory so nobody else can eat them. Pink like strawberries, I taste all of my ladies. Kiss the lips to savior the taste, slow and smooth and never with haste. Make her ejaculate fluids like paste. Attention specialist, make her scream in overtime. Do it again the next time, spotless to remove the grime, just to prove this is my crime. I love cookies, num, num, num, num, I lick until you go numb, numb, numb, numb as long as your reciprocate and give me brain cause I’m so dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb.

Never stopped loving you

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Never stopped loving you

I never did stop loving you, even throughout the long years, I thought about you constantly. I did my best to stay in touch. But you were playing games, corresponding with my friend in attempts to make me jealous. Sometimes it did work but it was in the minority. He was never in my league so I never felt threatened, but I did question you and whether or not you were worth it. I invested so much of myself in the idea of you that I never wanted to lose you. I thought I had it all figured out, that we’d someday be together, but I was wrong. Despite you being the inspiration of everything I did, I still lost you. To this day I still don’t understand why life didn’t give us a chance. I regret nothing, I stand by everything I did in the past. I am the accumulation of my past efforts and I am proud of the man I’ve have become. But I keep wondering what if? We were vibing, we were on the same wavelength. I loved you and I know you felt the same way. Is there something we should have done differently? Were we deluded in our love? I am guilty for being distant and not being affectionate so maybe it’s me, I should have sent you text messages that warmed your heart and showed you I cared but then again, I didn’t want to manipulate you, you’d pick it up, all this love-bombing stuff, I wouldn’t be able to sustain it. I prefer to be with you in the flesh and gaze in your eyes, shower you with compliments and tell you that I love you. Unfortunately distance got in between us and that barrier couldn’t be overcome. Our union was doomed from the start. We just could not get it together. I can’t help but to think that you are the one that got away and I am rueful ruminating about potential realities. You are mine in a perfect world, I’ll never stop loving you.

Gold diggers

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Gold diggers

A man who has money is beauty for women just like how men look for beauty in women. Granted you wouldn’t marry a woman for her beauty but it sure helps. Money is attractive, money is intoxicating, it has the promise of fulfilling all your dreams. Visions of not having to struggle anymore, gracing balls wearing designer clothes burdened with sparkling diamonds that hang on your neck and wrists, driven in luxury and escorted by royalty. Which girl wouldn’t want to be Cinderella for a lifetime? This time the magic doesn’t dissipate, the clock keeps ticking, the fairy godmother on speed dial and the glass shoes keep on multiplying. Living in Mansions, walking on marble, oversighted by crystal chandeliers, swimming in heated pools and served by foreign butlers. There enters the Gold digger, the manifestation of every man’s fantasy. She represents a tunnel in the repressed subconscious mind. She fulfills you in every way you desire. She subjegates herself to you, granting you power. She soothes and fills what’s lacking in your life. She is your escape in a world were routine triumphs. She is exciting, new and forbidden, uses her body to make you yield into the temptation of her bosom. You can squeeze if you want to, that’s the whole point. She’s yours for a price. The esteem and prestige of being your wife, but no prenups. Also, she wants to be included in your will, a stake in the inheritance fund and half of everything you own and oh, she’ll get it all. Her cunning intelligence guarantees it. You are her gold mine and she’s not letting go. Unlike the typical woman who operates with the right hemisphere of her brain, she is a blend of both hemispheres, she is both feminine and masculine. She is not just a woman whose emotional and acts on her feelings, she thinks, she plans, uses reason and logic, she has drive, she is ambitious! You are the route to her Gucci and Louis Vuitton bags, bespoke designer clothes, red bottoms heels and summer vacations in Monaco.

It was difficult to defend against the Blitzkrieg attack because it enveloped the enemy and crushed it with great speed. It gave you no time to think, no space to move, you were crushed by the weight of the attack. The perfect gold digger is akin to a blitzkrieg attack. You’ll never see it coming, she will crush you and dispose of you faster than the speed of light. Great gold diggers will seduce you, play to the repressed qualities of your being, ascentuate their body features, lower the pitch of their voices, play the demsel in distress, regress to a childlike persona, dominate through passivity to sink their claws in, marry you for your money and then divorce you. They are the definition of deception and smokescreens, they disappear like an illusion, like a dream, like it never happened. After you it’s on to the next one. You have to admire gold diggers because they are ambitious, they are driven, they have will, they want a good life and you are a means to an end. Gold diggers have balls, what makes them great is their ability to tap into their masculine sides while maintaining their femininity. That ambition will get you everything in life. I would love to be a Hugh Hefner, a magnet for gold diggers. To be surrounded by young, hot, beautiful women and have the relationships be platonic and transactional, using my pool and walking around the house in nothing but their birthday suits, oh Hugh cracked the code, the Playboy Mansion is heaven!

Cheaters

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Cheaters

Women cheat, men cheat, its human nature no one is perfect. Men cheat a lot but women are better cheaters. Women play the game better, they think long-term. Men just want to fuck. It’s not even a contest, your lady can break you down. She can cause permanent damage to your psyche, she can flip the switch to end your life. You don’t want to know who’s dick she’s sucked. And when she cheats, you won’t know a thing. Bet money now, you’ll get the biggest shock of your life! This is because female nature is more cunning in nature. It’s more chaotic and creative. The masculine brain is more leftist and derives it meaning from reason and rationality. The masculine brain wants to instill order while the feminine brain just doesn’t give a fuck, it wants to see everything burn! Nothing and no one is out of bound. Its difficult to catch your lady in the act of cheating because usually everything is so premeditated, so precise, there is so much detail, so much care, the deceptions, the story has had time to grow, ties that used to be platonic are metastasizing into something more. To go through with the process of cheating they need to feel secure, so most likely they will level up from the relationship they are currently in. It’s not uncommon for them to level down because sometimes the nigga with a bus pass has better dick game, but that’s for short-term results, they usually level up. They will be in stealth mode and wait for you to fuck up, they will even bait you to it and when you trip, leave your tired ass. Men on the other hand get caught cheating 9 out of 10 times. Men don’t invest as much as women in keeping infidelity a secret. The bare minimum will suffice and if they are caught well “I am sorry, I’ll never do it again” but that’s really just bullshit because men cavet everything. Everything is emotions with ladies so when she cheats it’s a double dagger to your spirit because she stopped investing in the relationship emotionally and started an entirely new portfolio with someone else. It means she stopped loving you, she stopped respecting you. If she stops respecting you then it’s over. It’s not redeemable like a voucher. Women can move on much faster because they stopped investing in you emotionally for quite some time and it might come across as cold and sudden but oh, it’s not, she has been stacking up your fuck ups for months and years. Women hold grudges and they remember everything. It’s useful for when they want to get back at you! Men on the other hand just want some pussy, it’s not deep, just some short-term gratification, it won’t hurt anybody, no one will ever know. More body counts doesn’t mean I love my lady less, just means I was hungry, I wanted some pussy. Let’s be real, men were never made to settle with one partner, that’s not how evolution works. If that were the case, our species would be in trouble. Men with strong genes have to take the lead, they get preferential treatment, if it means mating with more suitors then so be it. Strong genes signal vitality, health and life. It’s simply nature, has been that way from the beginning of time. There’s also the case that women outnumber men by 5 to 1. God is not an idiot. Women domesticate men for survival, it’s hardwired into their brains, we can understand that but it’s a projection and an attempt at control and is not really natural for men. When you really think about it, marriage is a fancy word for domestication. A man must sow his seeds and so he is bound to fuck up, it’s hardwired into his brain, it’s in his genes, his just gotta get variety on that pussy. When a woman cheats on the other hand that’s blasphemous! There is no coming back for a woman who cheats but “I can change” for a man who does, it’s expected, it’s his nature. Double standards I know but we are not hardwired the same. Women and men are not the same not even a sex change can alter that. Intent matters, we cheat to satisfy different things. Love and sex can be separated for men while love is a byproduct of sex for women. Cheating for men is hardly malicious, cold and calculated but it usually is for women. A woman will fuck your cousin to get back at you, now family gatherings are ruined forever. I know times have changed and women are more liberated with their bodies but have you ever been with a woman with a high body count? The intimacy, the connection, the warmth, her love, it’s all wrong, it’s not the same. She’s cold, distant, out of sync, avoidant and probably damaged. You can’t build something of substance with someone like that, she’s not interested in building anything. Where is her value? Where is her feminine essence? Body count matters especially for women, for men it’s just sex. Women can’t be in the casual sex game for the long haul whereas men can test drive different generations.

Pussy whipped

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Pussy whipped

He’s pussy whipped, the claws of her vagina reeled him in like a fisherman and now he’s dangling on a string gasping for air, castrated and flat lacking a pair. He’s pussy whipped, a woman pleaser, always on her side but never gets to please her. Yet the woman is a rental and every man gets to lease her. He’s pussy whipped, on his knees begging for the cookie. Buying the whole shop but he ain’t never sample the pussy. She be controlling him like Lucy, using all her mental capacity to keep him in the deep sea, like we look good in this picture boo, see. He’s pussy whipped, respect and dignity evaporated like steam. She’s his biggest achievement, he’s retired, he never gets the cream. It’s a nightmare, it’s hard not to scream. Gave up his life and forgot about his dreams. He’s pussy whipped, worse is that she don’t respect him. Pitched me her pussy to make him the fool. Tore that shit apart cause I am so cool. Licked the plate clean and got rid of the drool. He’s pussy whipped, emasculated and mute. Has his clothes picked out, he’s a baby his cute. Never astute, follows the skirt like he doesn’t have a choice. Docile and obedient cause he doesn’t have a voice. He’s pussy whipped, without the pussy, he’s a simp! My nigga, get money, get pussy be a Pimp!

Another Amy

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Another Amy

Are you telling me I am about to lose another Amy? God give me a break. Nah, this is uncalled for. This is unfair, I did everything you wanted. Why are you doing this to me? My goodness, I just can’t catch a break. I don’t accept this, nah I deserve more. I just can’t lose another Amy, they are limited and it’s not just that, he won’t enable her to fly and that what she deserves, the sky, the solar system, the milky-way, everything! I’ve lost so much, I have sacrificed so much. Currently, I can’t offer you much but the other guy can. He is strong and masculine and I am just chasing dreams. Money is slow and has been that way for a while, it’s the reason we are in this position. Success for me isn’t guaranteed, I am one of many. Why would you want to be an entrepreneur? Trust me, it’s an overrated experience and reality is not as glamorous. I believe I am the best but that’s not enough, a billion men have perished. I wish it didn’t have to be this way but I accept, after all my strategy is long-term. Maybe Amy isn’t the one, I dread that relevation because it means I have to start all over and I don’t have the energy to project and experience things anew. I doubt I have it me to fall in love again, theres a hand full of Amy’s and they are all taken. Time elapses and life difficult so I understand, I wish you all the best. What a pity, she had everything, the boobs, personality, the face, body, wit, the brains and just about everything! She was perfect but I accept, you are my sacrifice. At least you were mine for a while. I set you free, I wish nothing but the best for you. You deserve beautiful things.

I did love you Amy, I had plans. But life is difficult and never goes according to script. I had it all figured out but Mothernature doesn’t care all that much for my plans. Sometimes I think that I will never fall in love again. It’s difficult for me to fall in love, you were an exception and then I got another exception and now all my exceptions are gone. Deja Vu, it’s the past repeating itself. I am losing another Amy.

PS. When I was in high school, I wrote a poem for a concert that I was going to participate in. I thought the poem was good but I wanted feedback. My friends weren’t going to give me constructive feedback and so I asked Amy, she was in my class. I trusted her judgment, I thought she was amazing. When we were seniors in Primary school, she beat me in a speech competition. I was great but she was better. I gave her my poem and the next day she told me what she thought. As she was delivering her verdict I zoned out a bit and stared at her boobs but I recovered and heard everything she said, don’t judge me! True, I was thinking and picturing her naked but I was still listening! She wasn’t impressed with my poem. Her remarks was that there wasn’t feeling and emotion in my words. It was superficial and I did a lot of unnecessary rhyming. She said my words lacked empathy and compassion. She said she understands that it might be too hard for me considering I am a boy and she’s referencing things that come easy for her because she’s a girl. Then she gave me an example of what she was talking about with a poem about hands. It was so descriptive and emotive, her adjectives were powerful and rooted in reality, there was feeling and her words had empathy. Her poem felt real and personal. Her example caressed my spirit. I changed my poem and wrote another one. She changed my writing style and my artistic process. She made me realize that feminine traits are artistic in nature. I learned to caltivate these feminine traits like empathy, listening more, compassion and understanding throughout my young life and my work has gotten better. I am better. Also, I can attract the opposite sex with the greatest of ease, it’s not an ego thing, it’s just what it is. Trust me, I can take your girl if I wanted to. My reworked poem turned out great too, the crowd loved it, I loved it. I implemented her advice. She made me a better writer, I am still reaping the fruits of that interaction. I pray God gives me another Amy.