Watch this space.

When I began blogging, it was because I had to blog so that I can get marks and complete my media studies module. As I continued to blog, I stated to fall in love with the idea of writing about my experiences in this world and putting them up online for the world to read. As I continuously checked the status as to how many people actually read my blog I was surprised. The excitement boiled from within and I was shaken by what my eyes see.

The beast is unleashed, and I say to you my fellow bloggers, watch this space. My blogs will make you happy, and for some of you they will make you sad. They will piss some of you off and make someone else’s day, and somewhere along the day you will realise that it is the truth and someone had to highlight it out.

Watch this space, because when it happens, you will not know what has hit you. You will be left with no choice but to stand up, dust yourself and wait for it to happen again, because this space is about to erupt.

My favourite Cat in the Hat book is [……….]; because...

Drum roll please! Ladies and gentlemen, bloggers and blog readers! Here I announce my favourite cat in the Hat book… I see you shiver with anticipation, but don’t worry because I can remove the cause, but not the symptom!

My favourite Cat in the Hat Book is… You! Yes you. This is because of the precious time you give to me. The seconds and minutes you put into reading my blogs. I appreciate every moment and every second even if you were just passing by and clicked on my link. You are my favourite Cat in the Hat book. Thank you Very much, and please come back to read again!

Why I have conversations?

A wise man once said we learn more and best when we engage in conversation with individuals in the outside world. I agree with the author and believe that we are whom we are today because of the world we exist in.

On the other hand, the human species communicate for survival. One needs to learn how to engage in society, and learning how to best communicate is the great first step. This is so one can be a master in negotiating and worthy conversation in order for one’s survival.

Almost everything that exists around us was achieved through communication. And the wars resulted in lack of knowledge and this could have been done through education, which also entails communication. Every aspect in our lives consists of this element. The clothes that you wear, the makeup that you put on, the hair styles that you do, and the clubs that you attend and the credit cards in your wallet, and these things came to you, by means of communication. One of the best ways to improve your vocabulary is to just read more books. This is why I communicate.

Now go out there, unleash the beast within you, and master the craft of human survival.

Conventional is a good fall-back position isn’t it?

Public relations practitioners in organisations conduct media scanning to analyse the changes in the environment and how these changes may have an impact on the organisation itself and its PR. And communication programmes.  They therefore conduct simple programmes and shy away from conducting programmes or campaigns that put the organisations reputation at risk. Proper planning of a simple straight forward campaign/ activity will definitely guarantee the organisation a good fall-back position.

Life has choices

We all live in a world of choices. Yes in life, there are always choices. Some choose to get married, some choose to bachelors and some choose to stay single, consciously or unconsciously so, they made the choice. Its either we choose to something or we choose not to do it. No matter what the situation we may be facing at the time, we are left with the choice in our hands. It’s either to accept the situation and deal with the consequences or do something about the situation in order for it to suit you.

People keep complaining because of their unemployment status, they then blame it on the government, and hate on the BEE beneficiaries. I say to them, do something about your unemployment status, and for the ill why don’t you take a stand about your health conditions and stop expecting people to feel pity for you. And to the homeless guys, try not being homeless for a change, go on an adventure, pick up metals and bottles and sell them to the scrapyards and recycling houses. How is that for a change?

Some of you may say; “you do not understand” and my response is; Yes, I do not understand because it is a choice!

Bring Back My Stuff

Dear Ex best friend

We stated of as strangers in an upmarket CPUT residence, and we seemed to get along very well. After 2 months we became best buddies and we became the best buddied that Cape Town has ever seen. I trusted you with my life and allowed you to wear my clothes; little did I know that you were doing your own shopping spree.

 

I smiled and gave you encouragement as you looked fabulous in my wardrobe. I looked at the heels of my shoes get finished as you walked and asked myself what would have God done if he were me? I asked you to land me you digital camera for my graduation, but you thought I would not return with it so you beat around the bush until I left without it. This made me think, someday you might run away with my stuff but I chose to ignore the thought.

Beginning of June I gave you the keys to my room, and asked you to clear out for me. I asked you to take my stuff to your house and bring them back at the beginning of the second semester and 5 months down the line, there is no sign that my stuff will ever return.

Like any human being I made assumptions, and declare that you robbed me. In fact, you dig most of the gold out of my mine. I bet that you got home and told you mother that everything is yours.

You became a bad boy the moment you knew that you have failed and the university is excluding you. I supported you regardless of the fact that I left my room in your hands so you can study, instead I return to my room and it smells like trash.

 

Please bring back my stuff so I can give it to the homeless guy who greets me with a smile every time I go buy bread.

Please bring back my staff.

Robbed by A “bestfriend”

Firstly, lets get this out of the way. A Xhosa guy robbed me. Yes he was very intelligent about it. The miner took most of the gold and vanished.

secondly I would like to highlight that this is what I think of the situation and this is how I see it. They say that there are two sides to a story and this is how my story goes. Someone whom I use to call my best friend pack my staff and it seems like he will never bring them back. It is practically my fault that my stuff is gone, because I trusted him too much, but he ended up disappointing me. (In a nut shell) He robbed me.

People who live and grew up in Johannesburg, formally known as “Joburgers” have the stereotype that Xhosa women are Gold diggers and they will go all their way to milk whatever which they can get from you, well this statement is partially true. (According to me- dont sue me for it) “They” will milk the living hell out of you and before you know it, your jeans, shoes and bedding are gone. Lets acknowledge Individualism while we are on that note (Not all Xhosa people are the same).  Oh, and not forgetting you scarves. They will be gone before you could have the second blink. That’s how most of these people operate.

I don’t mean to offend Xhosa people, and I embrace the fact that people are different and one cannot be classified because he/ she belongs to a certain group or culture, but the environment we live in has a great influence on how we behave. And this confirms it that the Xhosa nation is well known for its digging, and they are surely good at it.

The wars between the single and married…

 I would like to declare that I myself am a victim to this war. You can only understand this when one of u rest friends gets to be married. From the second that ring enters the figure, everything changes. The “I” becomes a “we”, and before you know it, like X you are being solved out the equation.  “we don’t like this anymore” ”we don’t think it’s a good idea to go there and there”, one you get to be hit by this wave, just know that the war is on.

After three bottles of wine at a dinner table in a restaurant in long street, when I realised that I had lost in the war. An engagement ring was unveiled to me and an announcement of a move hit my ears to finish the ruthless defeat. There was no chance in hell that I could attend a wedding in Namibia. That settled it, I had lost the war.

Just when I had accepted my defeat, I was introduced to somebody else. Yes, a hook-up, in all the wars of the single vs. the married I have never experienced this kind of defeat. I was completely speechless and solved.

The Appointment

Our appointment was set for exactly 14:30 in the dark hours of the morning. The invitation states that venue was settled to be at the chambers of death and sickness. And I was there on time. I must admit it, I was damn scared. I was 5 minutes and 28 seconds early to be exact, and it was one of the most fears and scariest moments in my life. Nobody wants to go through all that alone, so I had brought a friend along. He has received a post card from “him” before, but decided to ignore it instead, and now that I was given an invitation he jumped in to witness the kill and have a glimpse at how death looked like.

I opened the main door and a hot breeze hit us. I felt the drop of sweat slide down my spine as I looked into the chambers. It was a heated boiling dark tunnel with one bridge that we had to take to get to the other side. As we walked on the bridge to the other far end, the volcanic lava popped bubbles as if it were an egg being fried on the stove.

As we reached the other end, we were 3 minutes away from the appointment. “Open the door” my friend suggested as I stood there trying to put a two minute prayer for our survival. I then put my hand on the wooden door, and pushed it open… and there he was, the death himself. "Wake up, hay! are u ok?" my roommate woke me up.