If I could love my shadow
Like the self they never see
Like my music
Or the way he loves my wit
Like I love my red wine,
Could bring about the much needed change
So that I may grow
And become anew.
If they see me this way
They might say wow or urgh
They might realise that I am unconventional
Weird if you will
But that I’m human
And I also need support
That I get offended sometimes
That I work hard
And deserve respect
That I talk a lot,
When I feel safe
That I’m not always serious
And that I’m far from scary.
[Warning: Possible spoiler alerts]
I love the movie that is A Beautiful Mind. The documentary of course gives the true story way more depth. For one, Alicia and John get divorced and she takes care of him despite this (they remarry many years later) even though in the movie they are portrayed as remaining together throughout his dealing with his schizophrenia. Two…nah let me not. Just watch the movie. It’s long as fuck, but watch it. Then find the documentary on Youtube.
This movie (and story) gives me hope because…To have somebody stick with you through all your ups and downs throughout your life. To have somebody get you like that and understand the methods in your madness whether it’s a significant other or friend or whatever…To have that?! Yeah. When I am much older, I wanna be chilling on the balcony, having a drink and be like: “Man, we went through some shit hey? Remember *insert year and/or narrative*”
Three days ago was the first time I saw Ntsika Tyatya perform in his one man show, Pieces Of Every Me. This is not his first one man, but I was excited and nervous anyways. Excited to see his progression as an artist and nervous because I didn’t know what to expect…
When I cannot move,
I think of water
And its ability to take on an object’s shape
To change its state depending on the temperature
To move with the wind
Over and around rocks
To form waves
Or fall like tears from window sills
Then I move
The dis-ease, the discomfort and the disruption of 2015 has unraveled my safety net.
When I think about the things that I have normalized about myself and about the society I live in…When I go as deep as I can go, I see that to be me most times is to feel unsafe.
It reminds me of the man who threatened to follow me home and rape me (if he knew where I lived). And how I got home shaken and changed routes after that. Of the man who grabbed my arm as I was walking to ask me for my number…And how my first thought was to not upset him because I want to stay alive. These things cannot hurt me now, I thought. Until I woke up to #RapeAtAzania.
Because you carry the world and the black man to his greatness.
But black woman, you remain on your own.
Never real, always true
Never failing, always learning
Never sane, but always present
Never fear, always love
Never broken, always breaking
Never nothing, always something
Never done, always rising
Never stagnant, always moving…
Picture by: Craig Lapsley of The Untapped Source
There’s a dark purple plant that I was obsessed with as a child. It used to grow in the quad area of the college we lived in (and where my father was a lecturer). Other plants also grew there-colorful ones-but there was something about this particular plant. I would sit near the flowerbed and run my fingers along the stems and leaves. I couldn’t stop touching them. The texture was fascinating.
Purple is a powerful colour. I wear it on my nails.
Sometimes the rain feels like a breath on my neck
Or a gentle whisper in my ear
Other times it expresses my anger
Through the heavy grumbling clouds
And my screams through the flashes of light.
Life stops for some when it rains.
The TV is switched off
The mirrors are covered
Families gather in the lounge
To sit and listen
And wait till the storm passes
Before commencing as usual.