Sunday, August 19, 2012


Being Twenty - something - they call it the "Quarter-life Crisis".

By Bee Made on Tuesday, June 8, 2010 at 4:26am · (Facebook note)
It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are many things about yourself that you didn't know and may not like. You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now.  You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren't exactly the greatest people you have ever met, and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones.
What you don't recognize is that they are realizing that too, and aren't really cold, catty, mean or insincere, but that they are as confused as you.  You look at your job ... and it is not even close to what you thought you would be doing, or maybe you are looking for a job and realizing that you are going to have to start at the bottom and that scares you.

Your opinions have gotten stronger.

You see what others are doing and find yourself judging more than usual because suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and are constantly adding things to your list of what is acceptable and what isn't. One minute, you are insecure and then the next, secure.  You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly, change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life, but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away, and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward.

You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you. Or you lie in bed and wonder why you can't meet anyone decent enough that you want to get to know better.  Or maybe you love someone but they love someone else too and cannot figure out why you are doing this because you know that you aren't a bad person. One night stands and random hook ups start to look cheap.

Getting wasted and acting like an idiot doesn't seem as fun.  You go through the same emotions and questions over and over, and talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision.  You worry about loans, money, the future and making a life for yourself... and while winning the race would be great, right now you'd just like to be a contender! What you may not realize is that everyone reading this relates to it. We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out. 

I fell in love with this true life story the day I read it… I resonate with everyone whether black, blue, male or female.  So dear friends here is some part of the  truth you’ve been searching for….




5 Months Later...


Being of the year I lost her (Wandi) to the soil. She passed on the first week of the year. Since we were not the greatest (closest) of terms her death shocked me none the less, and given that were supposed to be meeting to get good platonic term again did not help the matter.   She will forever   haunt me; if anything she will go down as of the most dominating figures that shaped me. Funnily enough the whole of last year we spent doing things to spite each other, and in retrospect we could have just sat down ironed our things out and become friends (then again it would be very uncharacteristic of charged relationship).  So let her beautiful soul rest in peace and where ever she is hope is good place, for she deserves nothing better… 
So the year started with me bumping into the harsh reality of life; life is too short and you never know what tomorrow will bring. After this big Ahh” moment I decided to slow down again. I shed a lot of things that connected me with joburg. I wanted a new start, a new break, and new friends.  Looking back I now realise I had them as friends because I wanted them to define me “you are the company you keep” it’s been said.  Not that I did not fit I just got tired of the gimmicks, the drama and constant bullshitting….So for the past 7 months it’s been good. NO personal drama. Good friends. I still hate school but I’m getting by well. I’m still in love with my parents and my sister. My weight is still undecided. And i finally dyed my hair (Yeaah!!!!).  So all in all it is been great.  Small Heaven I declare, stamp and sealed and signed. 
I know why I’m blogging? Well today my dear beloved marks the day (a 5 month ago) that universe showed its powers. A day that fate showed its cute face (its round, it’s got freckles and lazy mouth).  Yep I got have stare down with fate, it won by the way because I said yes to do on a blind date. Yes a blind date. In my case since I knew who was going to be sitting across table from me- which should tell you I have super natural powers- the blind date meant that I had trouble envisioning what our first date would be like. I mean this was my first not so blind date but it was daunting; I’m not one for surprises of this kind, I like to know which material (script) to use. You never know these days with people being overly sensitive about politics, money, weight, and childbirth. I would like to know which personality trait should shine above others; should I act as if I know a lot about everything or should act like a dumb wit, should use dry humour to test their intelligence or keep at the primary  talking animals jokes, should I act like love struck puppy or should I play hardball and be unaffected the sheer pleasure of their presence at the table, do I bring my wallet or do I conveniently forget mine at home…  I need to know should and should-not’s before the waiter ask us are we ready to order.
 Like if I were to be asked question like “so what do think Barack Obama?”  There can be one or two answers to this depending on the person. 1. I think he should not be in the running in the election because of lack of leadership skills or for his gross mishandling of the Gulf oil-leak crisis. 2. I like him.  You see my point.  
Well as blind dates or not-so-blind dates goes, I would give this a respectable 8.5 out 10. Firstly I woke with a moerse hangover, trust you me hangovers and nerves don’t go well together.  I made to it the meeting place in blue polka dot dress (I figured let me dress-up for once), with no appetite and bucket full of patience (she was an hour late). When she eventually appeared she got me drunk and I loosened up. We talked about nothing at all, I just remember is that I she was she best company I’ve had in a long while… 

Well it’s been 5 months and nothing has happened. Who’s to blame I figure it’s me.  The poor child has done nothing wrong but be herself. Since I know no-one is going be judgemental and if you are I don’t care, y’all are more screwed up than I am, I’m going tell you why I’m to blame.  This is classic case of ‘getting bored easily’, but since it’s me we talking about this statement don’t apply to me. I don’t get bored easily. It’s true.  I don’t like this statement, because people normally use this statement to get out of relationship easily, and not those types of peoples.
Let me set the record straight, she is awesome person.  She the total opposite of what I’m, yes I know opposite attract and live in harmony together. Like everyone else she has flaws, and they slowly but surely they getting to me.  Before I start listing her flaws let list first and then we compare which are justifiable.  
I’m not totally out yet; I’m up for the discussion of how, where, and when (if get my drift), whilst she rocking that I’m gay so what attitude. Hey I say kudos to her, but for now understand that not everyone is in the secret of why I hang with gay people.  While I’m a open book with blank pages, she is tightly closed volume with useful information to make the world understand her. Bra all I’m asking is your hopes and dreams and life story, cause I don’t believe that someone has lived up your age don’t have a story to tell. While in my case I prefer telling what one wants to hear. Trouble she learnt that I say a whole shit without saying anything at all, so she on one woman mission to find my core. I don’t have a core, and even if I do have one I don’t believe anyone in their right mind would find it interesting than it is disappointing, or is shocking. I would know because I don’t like digging deep within myself. So don’t ask me to go deep i hate it there, I know it’s unfair. Then in defence bra if won’t be vulnerable, why should i.  I can go on, but I don’t have the whole day I’m suppose to be typing an assignment (s).
  I will leave you with this, as I writing the piece it become apparent to me that It’s not that I don’t like her, is not I would not date her, is not that she not girlfriend material, Its that she not my type…
  
  Unfair .Shocking.Selfish. Insensitive. Disappointing. Immoral. I did say my core don't look good.



Wednesday, August 15, 2012


Dear my future
This is a letter for my future girlfriend, telling her all that want.
I want well-built body; I want beautiful boobs; I want remarkable eyes ; I want amazing hands; I want perfect cuticles; I want cute feet; I want heavenly voice; I want intellect; I want witty; I want crazy; I want sense of humour; I want questions; I want answers; I want curiosity; I want dreams; I want hopes; I want tears; I want laughter; I want walk away; I want walk in;  I want run after you; I want emotions;;I want subjective; I want objective; I want an overdose of love; I want to hate loving you; I want love addictions; I want love explosions; I want a love affairs;  I want uncontrollable feelings; I want butterflies every time I’m with you ; I want uncontrolled hormones; I want sensuality; I want fighting; I want ‘aah that our song’; I breakfast in bed; I want love notes; I want bedroom picnics; I want all weekend long stay-in’s; I want inseparable;  I want adventurous; I want spontaneous; I want meet your family; I want ‘ hi this my girlfriend Kent’; I want she the female and I’m male; I want dominance; I want ‘yes we are gay’; I want shopping; I want gallery exhibitions; I want a lot photographs; I want home videos; I want ‘want cook for me’ dinner dates; I want romance; I want passion; I want jealousy;  I want crickets matches; I want showers of attention; I want to celebrate valentine’s day; I want a promise ring; I want an engagement ring;  I really want wedding; I want a gay wedding; I want exotic honeymoon; I want children; I want to share tub; I want get high with you; I suicide threats; I want a dozen roses for my birthday want surprise birthday parties; I want to be your plans; I want a taste of heaven; I want long weekend away; I want massages; I want sex;  I want explosive sex; I want earth shattering multiple orgasms;   I want slow burning sex; I want have ‘let’s go a another round’ sex;  I want let leave and go have sex moments; I want i can’t enough you sex; I want have we can do better than this sex; I want toes curling sex; I want morning sex; I want to wake to your face; I your voice to be the one I wake up to and fall asleep to. I want be the thing you did right in life; I want you to be a reality; I want to be your mate to soul;    
I want this and more and I’ll give you all of myself and more….
I love you truly in advance.
  

Sunday, December 11, 2011

F.O.C the street corner of the straight and narrow


Okay I decided to go to OC again (this time with good intentions) because they were having their  summer party and I had an  invite, mass distributed but still an invite... normal price but, this time you got a sourbom and piece of the Bibi’s birthday cake (real cake made of flour)not sure if she baked it thought.  For starters everybody talks about the big OC party but they never turn up, sometimes I think it’s got something to do with money and black people. These things two things are like water and oil and they don’t gel. Then you have that one taxi from Soweto that bring along the Sowetans wearing carvellas and rocking dodgy weaves.  It’s like the taxi started with decent looking group that did not fill up; so they had to pick-up some seat fillers along the way -they normally never dressed for the occasion-and sad thing is that they stand out like sore thumb on the dance floor.  Back to the party apart from the Sowetans you had your usual suspects. No names mentioned (reason I know faces not names).  They were all there the true religion of the F.O.C.  You had your cougars and you had your lost souls there and I don’t fall under neither. There cougars, you see them by being overzealous, over dressed or most commonly underdressed. Make-up is used not to enhance beauty but to bring back the youth long gone. You see it their eyes, when they start questioning why they gave up their (much needed) sleep to come play happy feet with their nieces. At times they try hard to fit in, but you see they try so hard they end making fools of themselves like falling over the dance floor. My agony aunt advice to them; try internet dating, for there you can lie about your age and no one will know.
Then you get the in betweens, they neither cougars or lost. Most times ‘The in betweens’ are there with their life partners and they spend the night staring into (past) each other eyes. What I’m saying is that both are looking over each other’s shoulders into the eyes of another person. They both came there to prove a point that they are so in love and they celebrating their love, but trust you me that is not true. Firstly I would like to think that an O.C is a singles hub. Where everyone whose single (or acts single for that night) goes there to hook up with a Facebook rendezvous mate or to go and celebrate being single. So I bet you 100 Zimbabwean dollars that is not perfect setting for love birds. Most of the time these couples leave the party early because one is having a hissy fit about how can her partner disrespecting her like that(I say boo-hoo)... or they don’t leave, they  stay and spend the rest of night not talking, sullen and everybody doing their own thing.
Then my favourite types of people were there too. I call them lost souls. LS are those that got taken by the homosexual pop culture. There were a handful of them there. Normally they find themselves at O.C parties in the company of their partners. They are those bi-sexual or straight girls that temporary think that they are lesbian. Lost souls are those chicks that took a leap of faith and explored the other side of the fence, and found it to be a cold cup of tea. To keep these chicks interested and in full party mode, keep them intoxicated. The moment the booze or (lack of it) runs out you found them drawing back into themselves and finding a dark corner and sitting there the rest of the night adding to the number of depressed, sullen people at summer party. They spend the rest the night with shocked, disbelieving, disgusted, and a -take -me -out -of -here looks on their faces. Some are lucky they bring friends (just to add to the numbers and to play it safe) but the mood just rubs off on their friends and they too increase the number of sulking, glum people at the party. Like North Pole has the South Pole, lost souls have their opposites. These girls flirt with every skirt /pants in the room, and funny enough OC veterans can take note of newcomers, like predators to prey. I don’t blame them because these girls go O.C to confirm that they too can attract, or to seduce other girls.  Those weak in mind and soul fall for these jezebels easily.  Trust me, one can do with good shag once in a while, but this shag has got its consequences. The morning after the shag the gears change. The predator becomes the prey. Like a fly to a spider web, the veterans get trapped, in” the love me now or I’m going to self destruct meltdowns”. Now who would like to have the meltdown on their conscious?  You now have to mentor, nature, and tend to this blooming gay lady. So beware ladies it’s one of the other and neither of them is better than the other one.  Like I said F.O.C is the street corner were the straight and narrow meet.         
Now the hits and misses. Firstly a little tweet told me that colour blocking is the order of the day. Well you guessed it the Sowetans seat fillers did not get that memo.  Come to think of it only five people colour blocked, and no I’m not counting that the door lady in green and red, cause she looked like she was dressed to go mall quickly to get milk and bread. Moving along, the first hit was one of the door ladies she had on blue chinos and very nice red _____ shoes and was carrying a sling bag (hotness). A other hit was the birthday girl. I also take my hat off for the DJ’s, and let’s not forget the DJ’s (the one in a jean-to-jean outfit) lady friend and her entourage. Those were well put together girls.
 Misses was everyone that did not colour blocked including me. Any respecting femme that was not in heels, excluding those ones that have medical reasons not wear them (me). Those two girls (I having a sneaky suspicion they were from Soweto) that wore heels and could not walk in them. One butch mama in outfit that included leather pants - clearly to her summer does not mean very hot weather- and a waist coat, she killed me. Had I been drinking I would’ve mistaken her for a clean shaven uncle Jabulani (generations). As for that performance or was it the shooting of her music video. I could do nothing but wonder if, is that what she want do for the rest of life, perform for a uninterested crowds ,trust me no-one was jealous, just worried that she could have been doing  something productive with her time. Sleep for one, or like helping out at her local community orphanages or working at hair salon so as to get free hair solutions tips, I’m just a suggesting. To add to my disappointment nobody told us where we could get her CD, cause I was planning to get it for my ex lover as Christmas prezzie. Or is she on YouTube is that it, can somebody please confirm it.  Nearly forgot that girl that was wearing a tent and bright yellow shirt with a baseball cap. You could house a family of six underneath that tent, which I found after close inspection that it was a delela.
I promise next time I’ll take my camera with, and hey guess what’ next time’ is just around the corner. F.O.C is having a beach party on the 16th at tropical sunset. After i post this I’m type a memo for my Sowetans sisters advising them to opt for shorts, miniskirts that are above the knees and little below the cheeks and vest than for that glitter party dresses they failed to wear at summer party. Flat shoes practical if any shoes at all. Trust me; I’m doing this for the greater good.



Thursday, November 17, 2011

The Drawingboard.....

1.          Something you hate about yourself. My skin (not the colour )
2.       Something you love about yourself. Craziness
3.          Something you have to forgive yourself for. Not dreaming big enough
4.         Something that you have to forgive someone for. Judgements
5.       Something you wish to happen in your life. Marry rich
6.       Something you wish never to happen in your life. Die at an early age
7.      Someone who has made your life worth living. Her
8.      Someone who has made your life hell, or treated you like shit. Them
9.      Someone you don’t want to let go, or just drifted. Her
10.Someone you need to let go, or wish you did not know. Her
11.    Something that people always compliments you on most.
12.Something you never get compliments on. My hair
13.A band or artist that has gotten you tough ass days. Adele
14.    A hero that has let you down. Tooth Fairy
15.Something or someone that you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it. Her
16. Someone or something that you definitely live without.  Myself
17. A book you’ve read that changed your views on something. Endless
18. Your views on gay marriage. All for it
19.    Your views on drugs and alcohol. Something’s we can do without
20. (scenario) your best friend  is involved in car accident and you two had a fight an hour
before what do you do. Save her then make-out
21.   Something you wish had not done in your life. Started schooling
22.Something you wish you had done in your life. Took a gap year
23.    Make a play list to someone and explain you chose the songs. It's coming....
24.     The reason you believe you still alive today. I’ve not achieved my purpose on earth
25.    Have you ever thought of giving up in life? If so, when and why. Never
26.    What is the best going for you right now? My friends and family
27.What if you’re pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do. See a shrink
28.    A letter to yourself telling yourself everything you love about yourself.  Still Drafting

so obviously me being me i will have to update this list every month for i  change constantly.....

Monday, September 19, 2011

My Millions......

What does life own me? Rephrase what do I want out of life or is what do I want to take out of  life? I’ve learnt the hard way that life never pays up when you need it to. As they say life is not fair. So I’ve decided not to take what it gives me but to dream of what it would give me it were fair. Everything and nothing! Those that know me well know that I’m not materialistic but those that know me better know I’m to broke to be materialistic.  So I live in hope.



So my living in hope is the gateway to my dreams of  how I’m going to make my and what I going to with my first and million and other millions that will follow that 1st million. I do not how I going make my first million or let alone my 20th   but I already know how going spend it. I’m not going to lie and say I’m going give some of it away to charity. No thank you I consider myself to be a charity case so trust me it will be money well spent. No I’m not heartless after my 49th million I become a philanthropist, and going to give away my 50th million. Is that a good enough repayment for you karma, yes I think so too.



So here goes my first million will I’ll spent on... (Drum roll please). Firstly this million has come when I’m just turned 25. I think this  is the perfect age because my heart will  still be young and strong enough to handle seeing that seven figure number and not came to a sudden halt, and  at 25 I’m mature enough not to spend it in one day but in a week.  I’m all about simplicity in life, so buying a mansion in northern suburbs with high fence wall would clearly contradict who I am. I would buy a space like a barnyard or old warehouse that I could convert into a living space. Where everything would flow into each other and be my private safe haven.



This haven will have a blue kitchen with a red door where most priced positions- the fridge and microwave- will dwell. Outside will be a vegetable garden where I’ll only plant vegetable that can endure a droughts, because trust you me a dessert plant can die under my supervision.

 The haven will have no less than six bedrooms (all of this depend on my future family unit).  There will two main bedrooms, because this will be my perfect hide out. Sleepovers will be allowed. Mine will have a four poster queen size bed, covered in the best feather duvet and cotton sheets money can buy and with enough pillows to put an army to sleep. On the walls will be blown out portraits of me and partner most intimate pictures. I’ll have a walk in closet (Think Carrie Bradshaw of Sex and City) filled with dresses and heels that will make joburg fashion week seem dull. The most spectacular of all will be the 5 meter deep fish tank with exotic fish. All named Nemo or Dorothy depending on your colour and IQ.  I nearly forgot my bathroom, here you will find an Egyptian bathtub big enough for two and a shower of similar standards. The bathroom will be tiled in black and contrasted by the cream bathtub and loo. You also find magazine rack and book shelve, perfect for after a long day bubble bath and constipation days. The second bedroom will be left to my partners taste.



The rest of the house will be filled with amazing artefacts from our travels. Mostly it will be wall hanging, carpets, and weird but amazing items. It will also have a private cinema and sauna. The haven will have a large entertainment area for our large number of friends and families.



Talking about travels, I’m going start travelling at the age of 30. This will be after I made my 3rd million. After I’ve gotten married and we‘ll going on our three month long honeymoon. We’ll have the rest of lives to travel the eight wonders of the world but will start it slow by visiting the least tourist infested countries. During our travels will purchase house as future investments (strategically making 23rd million). Firstly we going to travel to Asia or is Australia, Africa, or maybe its America, but all you need to know is that will cover all continents in alphabetical order. Which will mean that we would travel to Europe last, sorry is New Zealand a continent. We’ll go the most unusual places and eat the most unbelievable concoctions and make/meet the most random of people/friends.



Oh never told you what I would do with my second million. I’m splurge on all forms of individual transport, so this excludes busses, kombis, and ventures. What you’ll find parked in the yard is   a Ferrier, a Lamborghini, a Audi SUV, a BMW station wagon. Just for the hell of you find a Bugati 667i motorcycle and yacht. The last form of transport will not parked at the yard but somewhere in the Cape Town harbour waiting on summer holidays cruises and all white 35th birthday parties. 


As I’ve heard it been said before “money can not buy you happiness but it can help you lease it” I say amen to that. I second this statement because I’m a broke ass nigger who would kill for a taste of royalty and the high life. I bet you if the queen mother Elizabeth by some form of witchcraft was to lose her position and become a commoner she would be unhappy (not to mention angry and a suicidal risk herself and others) why, because she does not have that comfortable lifestyle no more. If Michael Jackson was to rise from his grave (which will prove to the world that witchcraft does exit), he would be very happy to find that he’s worth more than he did when he died and now he has enough money to fix his nose and dye his skin black again.  Why do think Julius Malema brings so much unhappiness to people, because he is threatening their wealth (money).


Drake was right when said Nigga’s without money make as if money it’s everything. So y’all stop lying to yourself and go out there and make your millions and stop hiding behind religion, spiritual fulfilment, and crazy saying like the money is the root of all evil. Money is not evil. No its people that evil, so if your not an evil then that saying is not of any relevance. If your not planning to buy guns and bombs,fund a terriost attack then trust me your not evil.....

Friday, August 26, 2011

Best kept secerts..


Dear Dairy                                                                                                      12/08/2011
Okay today I had an epiphany, which is the perfect name for my blog. The day I created my blog I just named it randomly (pun intend). I did not dig deep within me for the name I just wrote the first thing that came to mind, which was how random it was that  I did not have a name for my blog .  This became evident with my first post it was very personal rather than being random…. So the epiphany came to me today as I was sitting in a sea of people. I was having my blank moments, when I real do not remember my previous thoughts. Then my mind returns to the present moment and have brand new thoughts all over again, my train of thoughts return gradually but slowly. Normally my new thoughts are not as important and as life changing as the one I had today.

The name is perfect. The name is ever thing the blog is, its fits perfectly to whole idea behind the posts. Truth is some of the posting are written by me but they are not my usual train of thoughts. Trust me I’m not that deep .You see I have this friend that believes in the super natural side of life.  Her stories are unbelievable; I myself don’t believe that your ancestors can leave the comfort of their own graves, and come play tug of war within you about how you should you lead your life. So like the good friend that I’m I listen intently ask a questions here there, whilst think could this get any weirder than it already is.

 It Might turn out that my ancestors suffered from the predicament that I have of insomnia, so given the chance of eternal sleep  they chose not let the opportunity slip before their eyes. So who I’m I to judge, for my ancestors chose sleep over me.
 So how does this fit in with the name change, I think there is more to me than what meets the eye or the senseless things that I say. I’m not admitting to multiple personality disorder, but just that I’m multidimensional compared to average street walker.

If I were a fruit I would be a grape fruit. After peeling a grapefruit you get multiple dimensions to it, which again you have to peel of the skin that covers the edible part. Yes they taste and share the same coular but they come in individual sets. Compared to an apple a citrus fruit does not have a core. Each dimension hold its own seeds, which later on can bears its own trees.  So in my case you need first remove the façade to get to inside, when you get to the inside find that there is no core yet many dimension to my being that have different voices of their own, their own way of think and own  way of perceiving things. For you to get to know each dimension you’ll have to let shed the other skin to get their core.  Which is why from today on the blog shall be named; THE VIOCES IN MY HEAD… 
    

                                                                                                                        Kent…




Dear Dairy                                                                                                                  14/08/2011
I know know, I did not keep my promise of posting every week but I was never good at keeping personal promises.  

Moving on swiftly, funny thing is that I feel like writing but don’t know what to write about. I’ve been trying to cut my loses with the joburgnites, so far so good even if I have to say so myself. So what I’m trying to say is that I’m back on the closet (the hiding place for those that people who are shy about their homosexuality) top shelf. I chose the top shelf so that I can have great view of the on goings of the closet. The closet is not what people perceive it to be, let me let you in on a secret; it’s as busy as a Metorail train station during a week day. Like any typical train station you get different people, from regular commuters to your long distance travellers and those that sitting on the benches waiting. Everyone having one common goal and that is to get on that train and move on to another point. Like everyone in the closet the one common goal that everyone shares is to exit at the right time, and become a liberated homosexual female or male.

So let me break it down for you. Your regular commuter are true their nature. They visit the closet regularly. They are typical good looking cocky bunch. You can not miss them in crowd. Their looks draw you in and mesmerize you into believing happily ever after exist. One thing about them is that when they get asked to describe themselves they say they get ‘bored easily’. They always tell you this to divert you from the truth which is that their as bland and unhappy as those rushing to boring and mundane office jobs on morning train. They visit the closet regularly to look for someone to stroke their ego’s, to make feel them important and worthy of love. The ride is always short and the moment they get “bored”, they throw you out (dump) like last months worthless ticket. They come back to the closet to buy the new months trips.

When it comes to long distance travellers (LDT) there are those who travel light and there are those who chose carry the whole life with them. They visit the closet seasonally like they do the train station. Compared to regular commuter’s long distance travellers are debonair. When an LDT opens the closet doors, they let in a breeze and that cause a ripple in the closet which blows away the dust from the top shelf and has everyone in the closet paying attention. Your future with an LDT is highly depend on the baggage they’re caring.  Other thing to note about an LTD is everything moves at slower pace they do not offer the same adrenalin rush as your regular commuters do, and they are very protective like they are with their passports and their luggage. Once you get to know them they are very good companions and they open up more as the time goes. They will keep up with you for the duration of the trip and if it needs (when there were no fireworks and wedding bells ring) be they’ll bring you back to closet. They will change routes on the look out for better destination and other closets.  

 There two types of people that sit on the benches; one is holding to a on to one way ticket to anywhere and everywhere but no return ticket, and the other is waiting for someone to come and pick them up.

The one holding a ticket to anywhere and everywhere- this kind of ticket allows you to take the train and to jump on and of the train as you please. Let’s say your ticket is to joburg you can jump off at Bloemfontein, Kroonstad, Grahamstown, or Queenstown stay there for a day/days and wait same train tomorrow to continue on your journey to joburg. One thing it does not allow you to do is get on train go back to your departure point. As they sit on that bench they weigh their options of staying or of returning, but the price of a return ticket is commitment. The one thing they fear the most in life, so they rather have this one ticket that leads them to nowhere. They see this ticket as an opportunity of seeing the world and opening every closet door there is to open. I’ve lost fellow closet members to this train, and given the price for a return ticket most people are so broken (literally and figuratively) that they rather not get one. Sometimes I get the urge to buy one, but I would not survive on this train. For on this train you leave your emotions at boarding gate.  Boarding the train with your feelings is a criminal offence like not having a ticket on a train.  If it does happen that you grow emotional attached to someone, then either one of you gets dropped off the nearest stop in middle of nowhere. A trip on this train leaves you high and dry because you get off the train with no one but yourself, with nowhere to go. Just you standing there on empty train station platform and full of regret. Your regret the whole experience, because when you jump of at the end of the trip you get the feeling that you could taken the shorter route like everyone else did and fallen in love.

 Lastly you have those that are patiently waiting for someone to come and pick them up. They are literally waiting for their soul mates.  Experience has also taught them not trust anyone with their luggage or their hearts. They sit and wait in the dark corners of the closet, and only become visible and audible the moment their soul mates appear. How they know that the person that they’ve been waiting for has arrived is their best kept secret.

So which one are you? I’m the girl waiting patiently for my LDT to come and whisk me off to faraway place. I not waiting with baited breath, but for now I’m occupy my top shelf position and just look and listen out for when the next train is coming.



                                                                                                                                    N.Mateza
                       





Dear Dairy                                                                                          19/08/2011
It about to go down… I’m looking for someone but I can’t find them because they might be in front of me. 

Today marks the day I met her for the second time in two years. She does not have a name because I’ve never asked. First time I saw her I was at church. Yes I’m a true church goer when I’m back at home. I noticed her when both us were in the bathroom and I was talking on the phone telling a certain someone that I’m going to pray for them, to see the light and become straight. What I did not know was there was already in someone in next cubicle and they could hear me. It’s was not like I said it out loud that I’m not straight I think she must have caught on, because when came out of the cubicle and she was leaving she gave me I strange look. Since it was out town church conference I did not mind because chances were I might never see her again, because she not from my town.  

Fate would not hear of it.  I walk back to church and join my sister. Typical of me and my sister we are sitting with the boys and not with the girls, mostly because we can not stand girly girls and partly because we can not hold a soprano note.  So two rows ahead of on the girl’s side there she is with her friends. Okay I’m very sensitive to people looking at me. Yes look at me in passing, but you should not stare. For one there is nothing much to look at and secondly you make me feel uncomfortable about myself. So the whole group of three take turns to turn at look at me. I’m fine with this because I figured she might have told them about the incident, so I don’t pay mind to it.

Somewhere after the third time she turned and looked at my side my sister noticed her. Since I was not paying attention, my sister starts nudging me saying that’s what irritates her about girls they are insecure even when they are at church (my sister figured that her boyfriend must be sitting somewhere nearby so girl was keeping her eye on him). She looks again and my sister start getting irritated she ask that we change sits, we do so from new position I can her perfectly. 

This time when she turn and looks our eyes meet. I don’t keep contact I look down, and start getting the feeling that there is something that she looking at.  I turn around to look at the guys behind us.  None of them were fitting to be her boyfriend, it’s either they were are younger than her or older than she is, but how would I know what her preference is. I too start getting irritated because I’ve now forgotten where I’m at.  I turn my attention back to church and this point, someone was summoned to pray. Since this was thanksgiving sermon and it was one of those female church leader summoned to pray, chances she going to pray for a least ten minutes, perfect time to take a nap. Yet I found my self not able fall asleep. I look up and there she was looking. I turn around deliberately just to see is who it was returning the looks; everyone was either asleep or fiddling with their phones. I turn to find that she turn back and chatting to one of her friends who decided to turn back and look at me that moment we held eye contact like 30 seconds and I looked down again. Right I’m then I was think even blind could see that this child wanted me to acknowledge (this word is used for the purpose of the church) her, but mean if defined correctly I would say flirt back.
Problem is I can’t. I don’t how too and I’m too shy to flirt back. I mean I don’t have a come hither looks or smouldering seductive eyes (I think I end up squinting when try to pull those off). She had that going for her and she knew her eyes were dangerous, trust me right then they were shining with forbidden danger. So I look up and I stare at her because now wanted to see her. She wearing an appropriate church dress however she had dropped the scarf that covered her bare back (I blamed it on the heat). I think I’m the only one in the world who has a back fetish, its strange I know. So there she I enjoying the view she must felt my eyes on her because she turned, I held her contact. She smiled and then bit her lower lip. I still hoped all this was directed to someone else who sitting behind me, yet she had me and she knew it. So for the rest of the day we kept on it. When I’m self conscious I tend to fidget. I play with my fingers. My sister asked what wrong and told that my hands were itching. She had now stopped looking every two minute, she settled for stolen moments which were more intimidating and disturbing than before. I dared not leave and go outside in the fear that she would follow me.

Having only dated one gay person and not having come to terms with my sexuality this was unnerving. I mean I’ve been around girls like her all my life and nothing ever happened. Yes if you’ve not caught on I don’t date my type. She had me taking deep breaths and praying for both our sins, but yet again thanked gawd for the blessing. I remember when church ended went out running to get air, even forgot my phone under my chair. In the hassle and bustle of looking my phone and praying that she did not have it, I bumped into by the door. I have other thing about people touching me. I don’t like people touching me randomly worse purposely like she was doing. It was not we going to fall over but she held me like I was about fall. Trust me if there was not a crowd of -holier than thou- people there I swear she would have kissed me. She saw my distress she winked, and let me go. That was back in 2010 November.  It took me a long time to get over that incident, but I did.

This year I met her again this time not at church but at a social setting back at home. I knew I once saw her face somewhere but I just could not remember where. So she comes up to me and asks why is that I’m never at any youth conference? Again she speaking but her eyes is saying something else. I tell her that I’m study out of town.

Okay this holiday I think I was loose, we spoke till the cows came home (literally). I asked about last time and she told that she liked my- I don’t care- attitude.  We spoke our different partners, she then stated that dates your type, I went I not a type and I’m just a person. Surely that means that I date persons. We  were back where  started, she flirting bluntly and I fidgeting. She said what I dared not say; I’m if your game I’m willing. Saved by mother wanting show me off to colleagues, I ran away. I have to give it to her she has skill. I walked my cousin (she was my +1) home because it was getting cold for the baby. then I dropped her off and stared walking back to the party someone walks out of this house and grabs.  Her body was warm and smelt of soap her fingers invading my body like ants.  
“Tell me you don’t want to do this? And I’ll stop”.
 I ask her stop her.
She asks me to come with her so she can get me something warm to wear. She was right I needed something indeed. When got inside her room she started all over again.
“Tell me stop and I’ll stop and won’t try my luck again”. 
 I could not stop her this time, because she had taken off my vest and I was cold and she warm.

Most after such happenings you tend want to run away, but she made rather uncomfortably normal. When we were walking back to the party she said
“I hope you don’t regret what just happened cause I don’t I would do it in heartbeat”
“I don’t do such things, and actually I don’t regret one bit.”
As always it is with me, I could not give her what she wanted. We still talk and have good thing. Problem this week I found myself I what s my type, because she is the perfect person.

      
                                                                                                                        Kent…


Dear dairy                                                                                           24/08/2011
 Today I just feel like penning down what I’ve never told a soul. Since I’ve stared writing I’ve became my own my best friend, that I trust enough to tell my secrets to. I used cringe at mention of anything to do with intimacy, sex etc. Nothing has changed yet but I have made peace with. Don’t ask why just read.

 Like I said once I don’t like people touching me randomly. Well obviously I was not born like this. Like everyone else I went through the misery of puberty. When everyone else wished Will Smith or Tyres would come out of their TV sets and come and profess undying love to them, I was engrossed in sweet valley high book series. While everyone was sneaking around to catch a glimpse of soul food’s heated scenes, I was more concerned watching Jam Alley.

In the years that followed I suffered from ugly duckling depressions; where you do not believe you have an ounce of beauty in you. When we got to high school dating become everybody order of the day except for me.  I became an avid reader. I would become so enthralled in what I was reading that became unsocial able. My friends would say that I become moody and boring when I read. All my friends were dating except for me; they would scold me for not making effort (dressing half decent, braiding my hair) to been seen out and about. When someone did pay attention me to I did not know what to do, I would shy away and avoid them.

 I started preferring hang out with guys than with girls, I was more of a tomboy than I was a girly girl so I fitted in perfectly. They would question me why I did not date I would say that I was lesbian just to shut them up.  Some of them did try their luck but I could not bring myself to date them. I did not yet know why, but nothing excited me about be with a guy. I always I consoled myself by saying the right guy has not yet came along.
Then one fateful day one of them kissed. I had seen people kissing all over the place so there had to be more to kissing than what this guy was doing. He left me feeling disgusted and happy at the same time; I just found out that I was not missing much in this dating/kissing game. So until the age of 17 I had never been properly kissed or slept with anyone. 


So back to the fact that do not like being touched randomly. Funnily enough I would feel my guy friends up; play with their heads and run my fingers along their backs; their six packs or their beer bellies; and they would scold me for the consequences this would have. I would just laugh and move on to the next guy.  The girlfriends would give me threatening looks but what was I to do, I was just being friendly. Then came 2008, and along came a girl. I had gotten over my ugly duckling depression, but I had not grown into my skin yet. So she without knowledge of the fact that I was not an experienced sexual being she waltz into my life and changed that. From the first day we met she had my body wired.   My belly was fluttering with butterflies I only felt when I had to do orals in class. Something in me was unnerved. I did not trust myself hold anything; I suffered from temporary Parkinson’s disease when she was around. I was cold in fair temperature room, hot in coldness of the night.

Then she did the unthinkable she touched (hugged me to be exact) me. I became short of the breath, weak at the knees my body became a mass potent of hormones racing down my veins faster than the blood did. I pushed her back I asked her let me go, she obliged but she knew my weakness before I knew it (my body reacted to her touches).

All this was a first for my body. She awoke my body’s potential which in later days it would surprise even me that my body is so alive. At our second meeting she introduced me a sensual art of kissing. She taught me three things about kissing; firstly there is leader and follower (there is kisser and kiss receipt ant) secondly a kiss taste better with your eyes closed, thirdly do it with a smile (this enable breathing to take place, she said laughing).  At being I my body would become tense and I would hold my breath, she would suck the breath out my mouth leaving me choice but breathe normally and she would kiss me senseless.
  
So a combination of her touching me and kissing would prove that I’m not cold and unfeeling to a female touch as I’m to male touches. One day she asked me to kiss her that changed me forever. I gave a peck on the lips; see looked at blankly and order for me to kiss her again and to do it properly. I was shaky at first and then I got the hang of, I enjoyed kissing more than being kissed. I was the leader and I had power over her, she did not like it; she had become vulnerable and she did not like me sensing it. She tensed up. I moved my lips down her neck to the hollow of her neck and blow soft kisses there, she held her breath. I too sucked the breath out her mouth. I gave her no time to relax or tense up again I just went on kissing her. She admitted defeat she let me kiss her properly like she asked. To reign on parade she ran fingers along my spine; the guys had done to me a million times before but not like this. Now I knew what they meant by the consequences.
  
I had gotten used to her touches but not immune to them, they still caused a stir inside my body. This time she had put her hand inside my top and worked her way top to bottom.  I got warm fuzzy tingly feeling at the base of my spine, which shot through my spine straight to my head and toes. My breathing became faster signifying my heart rate. My body became engulfed in powerful wave of pure nothingness; I needed something to hold on to but my body had become super sensitive and shook every time she would touch me, yet she continued doing so. Normally if we were standing I would put my hands in her pocket, but today I was sitting on top of her lap. So I pushed her over so that could hold of bed. She flat on her back and me kneeling over her. I bent my head down I started kissing her again. I loved kissing her, every time I would kiss her my toes would curl up the butterflies would start to flutter. It was like falling in bed full of fluffy feathers pillows. It was a good feeling.

At the end of it all I had some explaining to do, because of the way I expertly worked on her body; I had to have learnt it from somewhere, so this made me a fraud in her eyes for not telling that I had done before. I pleaded my case telling her that I only did what felt right, and that I just loved touching her body. I later found out that she was just bitter at fact that I beat her in own game and, that she underestimated my sensuality.  Although she introduced me the art kissing I taught her to handle a body.

No I did not just jump right into bed with her that night. We both agreed we’ll take it slow. Back then I had serious body image issues, so this was another reason why I think it took me a long time to go to second base. She understood but, she tired her luck every time we met. I had heard scary first times with boys but never had anyone told me about first time with a girl.

She had called me over to her place. I was five hours late on the agreed time. So when I got there she was watching T.V topless.  I knew she was livid, it was hot and I was thirsty. Avoiding having to sit next her and apologising and explaining. I walked over to kitchen to go get me something to drink (sugar water to over the shock of seeing her topless) and make something to eat. She walked over from behind me; she slid her hands underneath my dress. I held my breath she had never gone this far. She unzipped my dress. I stood there frozen as my dress fell down to my feet. Instinctively I covered my chest with both my hands although I still had a bra on. I closed my eyes as her hands invaded my now naked body. I could not breathe, all I could think about was that I was standing naked and what if someone walked in. She turned me around.  She kissed me and for the first time she spoke to me, don’t worry the door is locked. She grabbed my hand a placed it on her chest, her heart was beating fast. I looked at her and asked how that is supposed to help make me feel better…I never got to finish my question.
“Are you scared, really? They are real you know, you can feel for yourself.”  If anything else I was not staring I was shocked at fact that she standing in front of half naked in  loosely tied towel that I wished that would stay on.
She said while she was taking my hand and placing it on her bare breast; her nipple became alive underneath my palm. She had taken a step forward and she was now too for close for comfort, she was breathing my air which I needed desperately. She kissed me lightly. I tried to get away as she was trying to unhook my bra, she stopped me, and my bra became unhooked.
‘I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Of course not; you’re not think straight”
From there on I just remember us moving from the kitchen to the bedroom. My body was overtaken by sheer desire, our bodies moving to rhythm of our heats and legs tangled. The warm fuzzy feelings came and went I lost of count of them. Her telling me that she loved me and me at that moment thanking the heavens for let me wear matching underwear and moisturising.

Afterwards I slept. I woke hours later to two people arguing (her and the pizza guy). At that moment it all came flooding back. I could no believe what I just done. Instead I of feeling in mushy inside, I wished to be a thousand miles away from here. She walked in with a pizza but I was in the moody for food. She glared at me and asked me what is wrong. While she away I had gotten up and picked up shirt and draped over my naked body. 
You know that you not leaving tonight right?  You might as well juts eat”
I was planning to… but it was nine at night.

Some people would say I was lucky my first time was not awkward but it’s just that I felt awkward.  It was not what I expected it to be; it exceeded my expectation and then some.  She came over and tried to supportive in her own special way, which telling you the cold truth even if you do not want hear it. It still rings in head when every time I think of her.
“Yes you just had sex, even worse for you; you just had sex for the first time with girl. You feel awkward, but trust me nobody ever woke up and felt the same after having sex for the first time. For a first timer you amazed me. Where ever you may go this experience will be your benchmark for those that are yet still to come; you still going to have mind blowing sex and meaningless sex. Whether it’s going to be with or with somebody else you’ll have to let go of your body image issues. You should count yourself lucky that your first time was some body that cares and loves you very much, that sees more beauty and goodness in you, than what you care to see. Personally I was both satisfied and amazed so I would not mind giving it another try”…
This little speech did not make feel any better or any worse but it managed make me laugh and calm down enough to have something to eat and to have her hold me all through the night.  
        
In the years that followed she kept her promise of mind blowing sex and then some…



      
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            N.Mateza