I am a Beast!

As a child, I really couldn’t have thought life would turn out the way it turned out. Back then, I was looking at attending school and getting good marks to be rewarded with either a cellphone or dolls (I played with Barbie. I was just that boy who did the things),
I wanted to be the Karabo Moroka to my Ezweni, and the intensive desire made me work as hard as I could as a child. Along with being of a competitive nature. I had my sister who was, and still is smart, my brother who was just as clever. Being a second born, I sort of had to balance them, I did. For me to be able to even balance them, I needed to atleast put in an extra 10%. To be able to claim victory, a solid 50% was require. Boy did I deliver.

We have been brought to this earth not only to live, but to serve a purpose. Some of the many traits I have been able to see with myself were that I am a champion. I will stop at nothing to make sure that I contribute towards my very own success. I’m hopeful that I will have my R5 million by the age of 30. This is in the same way that I was the first child with my siblings to have a camera phone. Again, I knew I had to put in the work which then translated in me owning what was then the best cellphones.
Do I have doubts about how life will turn out and if I’ll really own a sum of even a million? Yes! Do I really think that I can do it? Definitely!

I am sure you must’ve realised the challenge of planning things versus actually doing them. This has never been so much of a challenge for me. I have always been working hard for everything I call an asset now. I too, wish I was born in a family where you have generational wealth however, that would’ve killed the chances of really enjoying the fruits of MY work. I hate things that are given to me on a silver platter, like I had mentioned before, I’m very competitive. You can’t claim victory for something you haven’t fought for. Or atleast lifted a finger for, I  am addicted to winning. Accomplishments are some of the words that sit comfortably with me. Accomplishments are words that love to sit and have coffee with me, words that love to sit and discuss Achieve, Success and Conquer with me.

Fate pulls strings differently for everyone; I am not going to run the next person’s race. If it means going against each other for a common goal, then bring it on. I find that me ending up in business or atleast, being in a corporate space currently is a manifest to how I was wired and put together. Business is an extremely competitive environment. You wake up chasing not only your business targets, but also profit that many other businesses are gunning for or even your person profit, or target.
After thoroughly assessing my potential and getting to a conclusion that I am limitless, I need to think of some of contingency plans as well as removals. Eliminate and place!

For example, reduce on “working HARD” look into “working SMART”. Some of the many ways to solidify getting to my R5 million mark at the age of 30.
Implementation is necessary however, executing is paramount.

I was born a Beast therefore, I am going to be an old rich man.

Much like the young Barbie doll crazed me, I need to keep the routine. The way I earned the respect (I had it in abundance boo) by being the ONLY boy who had that type of doll is the same way I want to be the boy who earned respect in the adulting life through persistence, resilience, working smart and thinking strategically and bringing life into those strategise.

A boy who is motivated, consistent, goal oriented and smart.

Such boys don’t die poor, they don’t die tired. . .  They die wealthy!

 

 

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Gary

Dreams do come true. I am a believer of; you will meet the love of your life. It might be that you have met them or you are still to meet them.

I met my king when I was 21 years old. I met him and I didn’t really fall in love with him at that very moment, I sort of waited it out, unintentionally. At the time that I had met him, he seemed very childish. He seemed like your typical boy who would rather talk about video games than to have a constructive adult conversation. Those who know me, my close friends and more particularly my best friend will tell you how mature I’ve become over the years. Even in my early development, I’ve always been the “adult”.

I suppose as we grow up, we face situations that force us to, first, toughen up, and then learn from the experiences. My parents brought me up in a way that I learn to look after myself. Ultimately, I was raised to raise myself.
His name is Gary (Not his real name). He was tall, well built and had such beautiful skin, funny and very humble. He could be every bit of arrogant if he wanted to. He had all the reasons to be. I mean handsome chap with basically everything that other kids our age would only but aspire to be. Yet, Gary was as meek as a dove.

My first attraction to him came from a place of appreciation; I appreciated who he was as a person, his kind heart, his willingness to assist the next person even when he didn’t need to. He exuded goodwill. The type of values he had displayed were the values I was taught, so for me to see someone actually practise what my parents have been fighting all my life to instil was quite profound. He was my type in every way imaginable. I loved Gary.

I’m the type of person who cannot bottle things up easily; I’d decided to inform my best friend, Sandile, about my crush which was gaining so much momentum. As best friends, we knew each other’s personalities so well, so my announcement to him about this boy was an indirect errand to Gary.
I stayed up so many nights imagining us together. It was official; I was obsessed with this guy. I stalked him religiously on social media platforms. Another essential part about my Gary was that he was a private person, so the whole mystery around the type of person he really was prolonged the suspense as I could not find much on the internet.

On a Saturday morning after a crazy night out I was lying on my bed when I received a “WhatsApp” text which read: “Do you really have a crush on me?” that my jaw dropped. I could not make out the real emotions I was going through. A great shot of wonder trying to figure out who could it be? I knew who I have a crush on, but this person would never in a million years send me such a text. This can’t be him; it is just not his style.
I was nervous and literally shaking. Held my phone on sweaty palms. I could feel that I was drenched with so much hot sweat when I finally learned who it was. I could see from his display picture. My heart was pounding out of my chest.
Before I could answer, I had to play Sherlock Holmes in my mind. I needed to find out who’d told him because Sandile would not dare. I mean, as much as he knows I desperately want to be cuddled in Gary’s arms, I can’t bring myself to admit wanting him, loving him. I decided to ignore the text for the time being. I called Sandile who picked up after the 3rd attempt I’d called. He had just woken up; he too, had the greatest of hangovers. Before he admitted quilt, he laughed so hard and advised on what I should say to Gary. Of course I would not take his advice, I needed to deal with this my way, my own way so I don’t have anyone to blame for any repercussions that may follow.
My biggest problem was admitting or denying, either way I would have to live with whatever decision I would finally come to.
My problem was more based on that, I was uncertain of Gary’s sexuality. If I admit to having a crush on him, then I might become public consumption and if I deny the truth then I might regret what could probably be a brilliant decision. This life thing is hard, we have problems at home, with family and on the other side it is crushes who do not acknowledge us.
That was not the case with me, Gary is not corny although I’d like to generalise the situation like we have made a mantra of “Men are trash”.
Finally, I answered his WhatsApp message. It was after something like 45 minutes. I took time because I needed to be sure of my decision. I needed to be objective with my decision, be able to take responsibility for any consequences that may arise. . . I answered: “Yes Gary, I do have a crush on you.” He responded quickly to say: “But why did I have to hear it from someone and not you? I thought we were cool. Anyway, I’ll see you later. Is it ok?”
My excitement with a tiny shot of nerves as I was reading that chat. It brightened my Saturday. The thought of seeing him later- seeing him in a sense of him coming to me was cure enough for my dread hangover. I was the happiest queer, I felt I had accomplished. . . I had won.
Later came, it was around 16h00 when I received another WhatsApp to say he (Gary) is outside. I went to see him. I was so shy and felt that I was saying the most pathetic things.
When he admitted to liking me, I knew that he is the love of my life. At that very moment, I was swept off my feet. Again I say, dreams do come true. . . My dream came true that afternoon.

I was in a very happy relationship with him for 1 year and a couple of months, I learned things I didn’t know and the world became clearer. He nurtured me, he believed in me and most of all; he loved and took care of me. I was loved unconditionally.

Although we aren’t together anymore, I still look back at the excessive amount of happiness I had with him. I know that one day we will cross paths again, differently and more grown up this time and just laugh at how stupid we were to let us die, our relationship was. . . Perfection! .

We don’t spend time with OURSELVES

You ever come across someone for the first time and not necessarily fall in love with them that very moment, but get a shot of suspicion that they’ll be “your love” ?

The type of suspicion that is relatively silly yet has such a profound latter. You see, I could educate you about relationships or boys and everything else that I think is “right” or “wrong” however, I can never dictate who you fall in love with. In fact, I can’t force emotions down your throat as we have all been made to have different emotional patterns individually. We come to express them differently.

I’ve come to study myself. I subsequently became an advocate for “self love” and the whole narrative of being there for you before you could disposition yourself for someone else.
No one can handle you with care except your own being. It is really surprising how we ironically can handle other people with care. For instance, you meet a person at a club or where ever we meet these people then you fall madly in love with them obviously with no intention of falling in love with them, then the next thing you meet with them religiously until you emotionally give yourself to them and start worshipping this next being. This is where you “handle with care” with the fear of obviously losing your most precious. In the midst of all of this, you fail to love yourself unconditionally that you relate so much of yourself to the stranger-turned lover.

I like that we can love and cherish the next person. But when will we love ourselves just as much as we do our significant other? Have you realised the silly traits that we love about them? Their legs, their butt, their eyes and most commonly the sex that they give to us.

When will you love yourself enough? When are you going to need you enough? Or want yourself enough? I find it hard too, I have not come to adequate acceptance but I’m happy that I endeavour to this goal on a very constant basis. I never want to wake up at 50 or consecutive years from the current to find that I have been busy transacting what I could have kept for myself.

Selfishly, we need to look out for ourselves. In the most promising you’ll always come to some sort of disappointment relying on another person to love you unconditionally. It might take time however, it will happen.

I’m not saying stay single or drench your heart with hate. I’m only saying, before you invest so much love to someone, consider looking into yourself and truthfully and wholeheartedly love yourself. Besides, a lot of argument has come that, how does one love the next person without loving themselves. I really have not heard of a concrete answer. I then decide to refer to earlier when I mentioned that I am not arguing with emotions. I will however, argue that I am can be sufficient for myself for me to be able to pour onto another heart. As long as mine is overflowing- enough to share.

Keep yourself busy, eat a whole lot of carbs distracting the fact that you rely on others for what could be a beautiful journey to self love and acceptance then you’ll come to a later age of extreme hate and dread your being. Challenge yourself to a whole new journey and see if you won’t love the destination you’ll come to. Seek deep into your heart and face your demons and see if they aren’t those treasures you handle with care in another person.

I repeat- look into yourself and see. . . Spend time with Yourself.

Good girls. . . Pristine!

I was having a conversation with another of my childhood friends. She was, and still is my best friend. I remember she used to be my PA in that she would write song lyrics for me and many other childish administrative activities. We’d go to her house for some delicious pudding. She knows my first crush and many other things.
It’s unfortunate that we had to do this whole adulting thing and separate. I like that we can still reflect back and talk endlessly about our childhood memories.

She grew up really smart (still is). The type that read books and basically were the epitome of “good girl”. She was most probably prime candidate for teachers pet. Because we went to larney schools, we found other candidates who were just thriving in this whole petting spot.
Of late, I’ve learned that she has grown up to be such a responsible and God fearing young lady. She is going through her phases of life beautifully and I know she will be very successful, I believe in her.

You can imagine a mess that I am befriending someone so almost perfect. Ironically, as I grew up, I’d adopted some of her traits and basically flourished in them. Like reading novels, keeping tidy, being very attentive and basically yearning to her sort of perfectionism.
It has not been such transformation but a good eye could see the similarities. My point is that, we attract opposites so casually then find ourselves adapting to them religiously.

Anyway, this beaular has been crushing. . . She is the type to love wholeheartedly although she has not found her “Mr Right”, she’s proved to be the type to be on an endless quest for love and Mr right whereas I am more of the type to seek a Mr Right- Now.

It’s sad that the people that genuinely deserve love are often the ones being overlooked. People who have been able to keep themselves sacred aren’t finding what they are looking for or are attracting all the gremlins of the world. I’ve been with good guys who, like this friend of mine deserve far more better people for themselves. We all get hurt, inevitably, we find the need to perfect ourselves for our partners but why is it that we don’t get what we deserve from those partners?

While men always and will always like bad girls, the good girl is the one they fall in love with and commit to possibly for the rest of their life. Aside from the fact that good girls are a rarity, what makes them so irresistible and lovely that men feel compelled to surrender their freedom to them?

In the same argument, why do these men who surrender so much of their freedom play and hurt this pristine treasure. I use the word “pristine” because, again, similar to my friend, you find these girls in their original condition- untouched, not broken. . . Unspoilt.

Life is a dangerous adventure that I’m very frightful for. Especially for my children. . . My daughter(s) if God decideds to bless me otherwise.

What I am saying is that, my childhood bestie is innocent, she is unaware of the ugliest and darkest aspects of life because she did not partake in any of it. Her lightness will definitely make men forget about the harsh cruelty of the world and brings out the joy and playfulness that still reside somewhere inside her potential bae. However, that doesn’t form a protective armour from the cruelty of men. . . Yes, what I am saying is men are dogs. . . They’re dogs that obliterate our good nature as the above-mentioned pristine treasures.

The very same dogs can be full of compassion, so kind, so beautifully made. So don’t give up at finding your own, and don’t blame your next sister when you’ve found a good guy (coughs) thinking you’ve arrived. Because the very same “good guy” can bring so much trash into your life than a horde of garbage trucks pouring rotting trash all over the place.

I’m praying that all the good girls, the girls who deserve the very best of men find them. I need to warn though that, seek your good man and always remember that he will not be God.

Finally, the good girls who have been mistreated and misunderstood in the past, constantly under pressure to conform to other girls, taken advantage of by seductive men, bored to tears by slimy “nice” guys, there is nothing wrong with you, you too, are precious. You’re just a different kind of precious. So to those good girls who are being ignored and forgotten in this world of meaningless flings, confrontational social interactions and interchangeable relationships, we know you exist, we value you and we love you.