ImagineMyThoughtsInWords

I've chosen to push myself towards the young woman I've seen 5 years from now. She's much bolder. She's much lighter and clearer than the one trying to find her way 1,700km away from home, in a place where she has herself and herself alone to bury her troubles. Back there, they think I have fun here because I love it, but the reality is only my spiralling battle with trust; trust of others' opinions, their intentions, their presence, just trust in people as a whole. I'm crippled with trying to be a people reading genius, but I realize it is a tactic to remind myself that everyone has foul intentions, to keep away from them so I remember to keep to self. It is an unsolicited truth, I do love it here. But it is these thoughts that keep me up at night. I run from them by writing about what I think I know, Love. Tumelo didn't know that I have deeper fears. These are constant replays, demons singing everytime I get closer to wanting something. I think and ...

I love a lot, myself perhaps and a couple of undeserving people. I believe I've mastered myself, more so every month. I've learnt to say to myself that I understand what the world is about but find it suffocating to share my thoughts with others. The difference in experience is a major contributor. I ramble a lot about inner sense that makes less sense, and by that I mean, sometimes I know what I'm talking about but I hardly understand it. This week the devil of depression is knocking hard on my door. All I want to do is cry. I have a fear for knives but believe me that I'm the cook of the house. I'm strung out on images of the possibilities of things going purposefully wrong. I can excuse my behavior but I'm tested everyday. I wake up with nothing to look forward to. I don't open the curtains until 1 in the afternoon, because from 8am to 12pm I plot on where to find the courage to get out of bed. I dread going to bed at night knowing that morning co...

This week I thought of you a lot. I noticed how my lack of trust with people accelerates because of all the faces I see everyday. Yours is still the one I look for. It's a slight madness really, trying to find something I know I won't. Nay says to me frequently how she wants something like this. The other day, I told her not to wish for this tragedy I call love. People don't know I've not met you yet. Imagine, 9 months I've loved you without pause and I still know nothing of the scars on your face (if you have any at all), what the palms of your hands feel like or really just what it feels like to walk in your presence. Who in their right mind would volunteer for this torture? So I took a walk a few days back, and I thought of all the things that will hurt when we eventually meet. I thought of the limited time, I thought of the things you might not like, the things I might not like, I thought of how your smile will hurt... no really, this was it. It'll only l...

I often wonder where we're headed. I try so hard, everyday not to live in my mind, because that's where the deception starts. It tells me none of this is real, none of this will last and all of it is but an illusion I voluntarily live in. So I ask, what is wrong with dreaming? I have not strayed from reality, at least not completely, but this illusion feels safe right now. Hope, they said. I trust that my heart won't deceive me, and if so may it be as real in feeling as my fingers feel on this keyboard. #thefuture