money, peace, poetry, self acceptance

I Love Cheap Thrills!

I’m spoilt for choice really on the type of person I can choose to be in this life. You saw that film about that bloke who had multiple personalities, well I’ve got multiple casualties that have left me with a choice: revenge like a savage or avenge and salvage an entire generation.

I love cheap thrills but such ain’t really cheap because they come from expensive hearts – no let me rephrase that – they come from priceless hearts that aren’t afraid to skip a beat or two and donate love for the sake of our humanity, now that’s humility. In today’s world it’s become a calamity to give up one’s self for the sake of the community.

Quick recap: snap- crackle and POP, that’s memories from my childhood I’m wondering where I went wrong from that innocent youth, I’m going into beast mode…

Sugar, Spice and everything nice, I’m rolling dice in street corners now because I’ve got to get that ice. Blood diamonds light up my brand new watch and I spray imported cologne just to dream of a trip to Germany with all the mindless pretty girls that made the mistake of looking at my glitters and thinking I’d make them rich.

I’d feel bad for them, but they’re better off than all the mindful girls who made the mistake of looking into my sparkling eyes and getting lost in my lies when I promised that I would care beyond this light filled night when really I would never dare to reveal even a peace of my heart just to start, because once I get to that part where I’ve got what I wanted I begin to amaze you by turning my back and running off into the wilderness with no love in my chest, but with your heart in a chest, along with all the other goodies and souvenirs that I keep as trophies – for this one I conquered like this, and that one like that, and these two I stole from here and I threw them there.

I treat these memories as a reminder that this life ain’t fair – if I couldn’t have peace then neither should my enemies. And everybody who got tangled in between has to understand that it was a necessary evil, a work hazard, and if you really where smart enough then you should have seen the warning signs and if you didn’t then you simply weren’t good enough and that’s why you should have encouraged me when I told you that I love cheap thrills, but instead you called me a bore and laughed it all off in my face, testing my patience and misusing my kindness, well tell me now…am I interesting enough? Has my head proven itself worthy of your expensive standards, or do I need to go on and come up with a nice ending for the sake of Art? Well what about my heart, do you think it goes unbruised every time I have to put it through this raging?

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blogging, inspiration, life choices, money, poetry, reason, secrets

Stop Writing.

I need to stop writing because I might just be good at it. Okay maybe that’s too extreme, maybe I can just stop publishing my blog posts – they might be better off as drafts.

Yes maybe drafts are better, I can pile up all my thoughts and they will never be seen and I would never revisit them just in case I get tempted to post them and let the whole world see.

I’m surely no Shakespeare, my English is far too simple – but oh how convenient, people cannot handle complicated, they don’t even understand my previous post.

Oh snap I need to stop writing. I might just be good at it and I’ll get what I wish for; write some books and get rich and famous – then my biggest fears will come true and I’ll end up like my beloved Avicii.

Many times I never stopped to think what the consequences of success could be. Everyone who’s holding my secrets might just come and spill the beans just to get their name on the community mop and wipe away all my innocence and privacy – I don’t want to be rich and famous.

So maybe I should stop writing or maybe I can just stop making sense, I can never try being boring so I’ll start now with the mathematics that birds don’t dwell on and neither did I when I passed through the tunnel and became man and then boy and then faded into thinking – yes surely I’ve lost them and they’ll never read me again…I can continue writing never to be famous today.

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Friendship, life choices, Love, money, Relationships, Uncategorized

Alone with Money

He could not take it anymore, the pressure and the waiting. How was he supposed to know that the money and the women would never satisfy a brewing death from within?

A big man on the brink of Obesity and his Soul is starving. Every night he does not know why his Rover isn’t enough. It’s big enough but there isn’t room for it on the road to the afterlife.

How can you blame her for thinking so smart? She’s hungry, going to bed on an empty stomach is no fitness routine. So she took this precious beauty and hung out it with a price…at least now she can see it’s value – it’s put some food in her mouth.

“I’m doing what I have to do” is what he’ll tell you. “I can’t afford to play around while accumulating these debts, I’ll get this degree just before I get rich and then I’ll take all my boys out and we’ll celebrate by the beach” – but how was he supposed to know that thinking for the future could cost him the gift that was the present and now the boys are no more, they’ve moved on with their wives…

And now you’ve got an old man chasing around young girls trying to make up for his wasted days of youth. But his body is not the same now, the alcohol doesn’t go down as it used to – now lying on a hospital bed with nobody by his side…

How was he supposed to know that he needed somebody that would care to be there? How was he supposed to know he needed somebody for better or for worse?

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African, blogging, dreams, inspiration, life choices, money, Uncategorized

The Boys in Africa

I couldn’t believe in time travel until I realised it was simply being explained the wrong way. Numbers and fancy science sound smart but look around you it’s all in your face.

Heritage and culture are vital. It is shameful to forget these principles, if you do – you are lost and we won’t waste time letting you know. You’re African bro, you need to behave like It, sound like it and be proud of it.

There are no boys in Africa, only men. You need to provide bro, there’s no time to “find yourself”. Come to the city, up the street and downtown the gents hustle. Your friend might make a fortune and you cannot afford to fail. One way or another, you need that money bro.

BOOM! It’s Globalization all up in your face bro. Hollywood and Wall Street have taken over. “While I had no money I still had Sauce. If you ain’t got no sauce then you Lost”. So we run up to the College to get these degrees – but we can’t even afford these fees.

It’s no use writing these truths, or even having the consciousness to see it…because as along as I cannot get the rhythm and beat, I’ll never afford something to eat. The Boys are into Fashion these days mama, success is measured by Instagram Likes.

I’m beginning to feel out of place and unwelcome, because I started treating women with respect and they started calling me weak. I tried to help prevent the same fate for the next generation and then my grades fell…but for some reason it came with no regrets because I don’t want to gain the world while losing my soul.

O’ mama, maybe if Daddy never left us the boys in Africa would have had a back-bone, a role model to hold onto, a prototype to imitate. But I guess he too was lured by the changing times, the freedom to follow his dreams, practice his Constitutional rights and “Find himself”. And then you had to work overtime to school us and win-some-bread.

You left us home with a gift though, entertainment on television to keep us happy. That’s when Lil-Wayne became a father figure and Facebook my playground where I downloaded so many friends who wished me happy birthday – none was there to share my cake…but that’s nothing new, it’s just the life of The Boys in Africa, “Thank you Tata Mandela”.

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