the guy who thinks he's mature because he's 30!

Luckily enough, I got spoiled by my brother's friends over the weekend.
I got a taste of the vibe in Cape Town.
Somewhere during the fun, I came across what appeared to be a decent gentleman and later turned out to be a perverted, julius-loving, imbecile later.
I still feel disgusted. I'm so tired of men!

I know I'm young and everybody thinks
I'm saying that just because
I'm a modern, model-c, educated, mild-feminist
whose culture and roots have been diluted
by westernization and whose mind has been
so completely brain-washed as to think that black men
should court a woman by appealing to her mind
through mild charm and light flattery,
silly debate and some deep insight
rather than appealing to her to remedy
the heat she causes in the flesh between his legs...

I'm sick of men!
The kind of men, and there are far too many of them actually,
who think that because they are forever playing the game of chase
women SHOULD ALWAYS be flattered by their sheer interest.
Well excuse me, if the feeling isn't mutual!

It is shocking how many men complain that
we women are rude to stick our noses up
and claim to have standards when THEY approach us
with poorly-constructed, foul-stinking, perverted phrases
that are fully saturated with shameless lust
and boast thier crass confidence
- gained through the success they have had in getting the random lay.

I WILL NOT APOLOGISE FOR BEING ONE WOMAN WHO WANTS SOMETHING SMART and INTRIGUIGING but SUBTLE AND DECENT! ESPECIALLY, TO ANYONE WHO ACCUSES ME OF BEING IGNORANT TO THE RESULT OF MY HISTORICAL CIRCUMSTANCES WHEN I AM THE DIRECT RESULT OF IT AND FULLY AWARE! IT IS IGNORANCE THAT MEN STILL WANDER ABOUT AND ASSUME THAT BECAUSE THEY HAVE LAID SEVERAL WOMEN WITHOUT SINCERE COURTSHIP THAT ALL OF THE ONES WHO WANT COURTSHIP ARE MODERN-DAY "WEE"-MEN. oh pahleeease!

I am not trying to be a man by being a kind of feminist.
I'm more of the woman that I, as a woman, want to be.

I feel like vomitting just when I relay the previous encounters that I've had with a lot of them and I'm absolutely revolted.

Not to say that I'm stuck-up.
I really think I'm tolerant.
But I'm tired.

I'm sick of lay-chasing men!

Strong Future International

Everybody spends a bit of time trying to find a way to make extra money. I must confess to being one of those people who sit in front of the computer and do it. So I was running my eyes over a few evening/weekend job offers on www.gumtree.co.za when I saw a short line in the list reading, "Make Money Online For Free!"
It wasn't the first time that I had read those words. However, I always seem to find myself reading up what information pops up on the screen ater I click the hyperlink. Lo and behold, I always read the words, "Register Now", "Make Money In Minutes" and then I yawn it off and carry on sending out emails to family and friends and reading up random information on Google. Oh yes, and I continue screening the net for career and internship opportunities for when I complete my studies.
This was not a very different scenario but it's taking me a few more hours (spread over days) than usual to find the weak link in the Strong Future International money-making scheme. I know it already sounds bad by just being a money-making scheme but I'm not going to credit it a better title until I know what on earth they keep going on about. All I can tell you is that it has this motivational element about it. I know for a fact that most networking companies go for the motivational approach to get people hooked on their business opportunities. Some of these things work anyways. My dad dabbled in it and made some profits although we would've much preferred the millions that they claim we'll have in a few months.
So I'm not completely cynical about this SFI, but I will not deny my absolute scepticism for this kind of thing, with the internet being such a mean monster and all. It makes money and steals money. I've watched too many movies to try something funny online. Like, how do people do online banking and stuff? Whoo, I will graduate to that level of trust for the internet when I have things to do online that have banking involved.
For now, I'm going read all the spam these SFI people send me until they say, "Make a small investment of...$$$ to make your business flourish", and then I'll block them. In the mean time... they sound like they know I'm sceptical... hahahaha.

For more info visit
http://www.sfi4.com/11030158/FREE

My Elle Notebook

There is a notebook for everything. I like to think and tell myself that nowadays. I don't why. Let's just say that I'm trying to pick up new habits as I go along rather than issue myself a whole lot of new year's resolutions. I can't think of them in one sitting so I might as well do this. So... I have this scribble-my-babble notebook that I love to take everywhere I go: the loo, the movies, Starlite (the so-called 24-hour diner down the street). It has no real narrative. It's just a whole lot of seemingly senseless words, names and lines all over the place. I had an idea that maybe I could write it all down somewhere in the random fashion that I have it in already but just a bit more logical, I guess.

Meeting Bagon in the afternoon. I hope he doesn't say something stupid like, "Ngiyakuthanda, Faith". I'm going to die if he does. Do any of the guys I meet in Cape Town have any other intentions besides bedding me? I know I'm not a particularly fantastic catch in relation to all the fish in the see but for the love of sanity, I am tired of meeting suitors in every man to my left, right and centre. It's bloody ridiculous.

Mom has good news. She sounds happy. Things seem to be sorting themselves out just fine over on the colder side of the world.

Yanga is playing soccer on Wednesday. Yeah, okay I'd be excited to go watch because I have nothing better to do but I would rather be home looking at the walls. Some people just don't get the message. Or they don't give the message. I don't know. Let's not dabble in that now.

Oh yes, then there's the profile: Manager at Woolworth's, may be transferred abroad to run Marks and Spencer. He's originally from East London and attended Dales College in King Williams' Town, Eastern Cape.

Little Bro is set for school. There's no backward-slide in view. I should put together a shopping list.

Oh yes, then the diet regime follows but I never follow it. I try but then I just forget to eat supper before 5 p.m. and I get hungry a day and a half later. I'll go about 16 hours without eating then I feel bad for eating anything because I fear that my body is trapping fat because I eat after a long time. I pump myself with water after buttering one slice of white toast. The guilt consumes me as I contemplate exactly what might happen to the slice of toast. Can't I just stop eating? I love food but I could live without feeling guilty about it all the time. Somebody just take me to the gym! No wait, I can take myself to the gym but I'm too caught up with reading to go. How is it that I haven't lost weight like other people do when they just stop taking sugar and cooldrinks and all that junk. THe closest thing to junk I've had was roasted chicken with mild garlic peri-peri basting on it, a portuguese roll and DIET COKE AND that was a long time ago. I'm getting depressed already because I'm hungry as it is and I'm scared of having a decent cooked meal. I'll google the cabbage soup diet. That's it! Right... I can't fool myself. I still don't understand why I'm fat and yet I hardly eat. I drink morvite for goodness sake! I read all the damn time. Oh it's just depressing.

Starlite (the so-called) 24-hour diner. I meet a very well-dressed charming man named Siyabonga. We shake hands and I commend him on his eccentric taste and ability to still look trendy. He grabs his hat and nods slightly in modest gratitude. How nice! A random good-looking, sensible young man who is not bolstered up by his ego! Siyabonga! Thank you!

dreams

I've been doing a lot of thinking and reading lately. I find I've had more time on my hands now than ever before. I'm living in a little cacoon and for once my thoughts have been about me and I've kept theem to myself in this cacoon of mine. For a long time I had nothing to do except to read, write and think. I did't have the money and time to blog for hours on end trying to write something interesting. At some point I decided to call my writing in a journal "ink-blabbling", so I've been "ink-blabbling" my brains out on a daily basis. I thought that was one of the best ways for a young aspiring writer to kill time. If I'm planning to be the writer of novels, I might as well start by getting used to just writing. writing at random did inject some fun into my long days of lounging about in the not-yet-homely flat. I've collected three notebook journals for myself that serve different purposes, of course. One is for recording things that I must note, another is for random rambling on the spot and the other is for dreams, budgets, plans and, basically, mind-mapping. Quite fun though. Ever since I got this blog I've been wondering exactly what to do with it. I made a decision today. It's mine. It's free and it's opportunity to play around while I'm young. So, just as it is in my journal, this blog is the canvass on which I shall reflect. I reckon it's a good way to get practising and anyone who stumbles across the page may enjoy a good laugh or may frown and move on. Does it matter? Not yet.

I've been keeping record of my dreams lately and I figure I can collect them and use them to inspire me to write captivating tales and paint my mind down the page. The pen (and, I guess, the keyboard too, now) is my brush and I shall (try very very hard to) be its faithful student.

drift

Drift Away
Down the river
Towards the sea
Hopelessly I float Into obscurity
Thee anchor of love
That once held me
Has loosed its grip
And silently
I drift away.

Faith

My prayers get jumbled in my mind

Sometimes my mind stands still

Or I just plain don't listen when,

He tells me of His will.But I know that when I need Him most,

He's there with open arms,

Forgiving me for all my sins

And keeping me from harm.

He guides me gently day by day

And gives me graces in His own way.

But I still need to listen more

When He knocks upon my door.

To when He whispers into my mind

Revealing to me, His works so kind.

I know He loves me deep inside

And from Him I cannot hide.

From birth to death,

He'll be with me

Even though I cannot see.

just know that His promises are true.

That's Faith. I believe. Don't you?

fear find no place here

our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate
our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure
it is our light not our darkness that most frightens us
we were all meant to shine as children do
its not just in some of us
its in everyone
your playing small does not serve the world
theres nothing enlightened about shrinking
so that other people wont feel insecure around you
as we are liberated from our own fear
our presence automatically liberates others