The Joy Scribbles

Before I left everyone told me how much I would love it. How much everything about Cape Town reminds them of me. I loved it... The four days I spent in Cape Town made it so easy to love. She was loving and Sunny and Calm. Ever so calm. And she stretched into forever and I've never been more aware of how tiny I am than trying to see the difference between the beginning of the sky and the ending of the ocean. Everything about Cape Town is so me. From the way people walk everywhere, to how even the traffic sounds like song, to how very few people wear jeans. No one cares about anything beyond themselves. and I went to this place called The Waiting Room where people literally smoke weed in public on a roof and even though I don't approve or condone drug use I found that funny. Cape Town? Cape Town is a barefooted, dreadlocked, skateboarding, shorts wearing hippie. She is tanned and never forgets her shades or lip balm, sometimes wears bikinis as whole outfits, owns two german...

My daughter wants to know why they're no girls like her in her favourite Tv shows. So I told her she is special. The world doesn’t know yet that the prettiest woman has Kinky curls and cocoa brown skin. My daughter doesn’t get why magazines are filled with Bullets meant to kill little brown girls. Like jeans with no space for her curves. With pictures of a tiny bustier That her 32D breasts don’t fit without being vulgar. She wants to know why I she cannot wear shorts Without encouraging men to bust her lips and knock down her doors. My daughter wants to know who will save her. Who will love her melanin and kink. For some reason the answer she is looking for is not me. 

When I was 5 my mother told me to punch till i drew blood. I didn't get why she was so mad. When I was 12 a man said I liooked sexy in shorts. I stopped wearing shorts. Or playing outside. I closed my legs, I sat like a lady. I wear shorts now. I walk at night. I drink tequila. I reject nice guys. Someone told me I was asking for it. I remembered then, my mother said... "when a boy tells you he owns you punch till you draw blood."

hi... A follower requested a short story by me a while ago. here is what i have of Annie so far.  She put the cigarette to her mouth. Inhaled the minty smoke and breathed it out through her nose. “I’m Annie”. She squat down to put the cigarette on the floor exposing her sexy thighs and then stood up before stubbing it out with her leopard print heel. It crumbled, the filter still intact stained with lipstick.  “I’m not much of a smoker.” she said reapplying her pink lipstick. “One puff and I’m good. Probably a waste of money though.” Her biracial hair was tumbling away from the top knot bun and she was trying to pin it up. The sweat glistened on her long neck. “I like to dance. That’s why I’m all sweaty. I’m always dancing when I’m out. It’s ridiculous.” She slid through the club door, turned and called out “Dance with me”. He tossed his cigarette to the street and followed. Her slim figure slid through the crowd easily while he struggled to keep up. He kept his eye on ...

Dear Grandma I can't forget the day you said you'd see me in my dreams. Or the day my cousin screamed "Mampho o sule". And I'm trying not to cry but I cry so much man. I cry about everything. Did I cry this much before? Did you know I cry so much? I cry almost as much as I breath. Sometimes I have to hide behind my shades and hat. I just started drinking tea again. I'm not hurling it but I haven't tried the one you liked. It scares me. I have a baby sister. So I'm not a baby anymore. And sometimes I wish you'd gotten to see it. I miss you terribly. I wish you'd visit my dreams tonight. Love, Tshepo.

Dear Thandi, I know I'm bad at keeping in touch. But there is so much to say. Technology is so impersonal. I'm sorry. I want to hold you, see your face when I tell you something shocking, hear you laugh. I miss you. terribly. Don't doubt it. I just can't do this online life. Just make sure when you come home this time I get to see you. I love you. Hope you're staying blessed. Xoxo

Again I am super late due to power cuts. But here goes Dear Sir, I don't feel like writing down your name today. I no longer refer to it. Or hold it with the reverence of a little girl learning her first teacher's name. I no longer repeat it to people as if to remind them you once belonged to me. I no longer repeat it to myself in an attempt not to forget you. I try to remember not to say it. I try to remember that they're sick and tired of hearing it. I try to remember not to tell stories that make me laugh if you're in them. Or stories about the first time I did this or that because goddamn it you're in so many fucken memories. So sometimes I whisper it before bed and other days when I'm too busy to remember it crawls into my dreams and holds me. I keep trying to remember that you are no longer comfort. You are no longer home. Your bed is not a place I can bare myself anymore. I can no longer cry in your arms. You can no longer see me as the definition o...

Dear Aaliyah I remember when I found the scan of you by accident. I asked mom if we were having a baby and she said it was a scan of daddy's tummy. I didn't tell her she was lying because it had her name on it. You don't tell old people they're lying. But I remember going to bed that night and praying you were a girl so you could get some of my old clothes. I waited for you for so long. And then you arrived a small ugly thing with a full head of curly hair that wasn't any fun to play with and by the time you could play I was too old and busy. You fell asleep waiting for me to finish my homework and read you a story. That's probably why you don't read much now. But yesterday you said "look the clouds are pregnant"and I beamed with pride because you remembered the metaphors we went through. and mom said "where'd you learn that?" and you said my sister. And never for a second when I'm yelling or moving out or somewhere in betw...

We're like withering roses me and you. This relationship isn't big enough for the both of us. It’s sad that some people suffocate in love or somewhere between it. Someone asked me what being in love feels like. I can't remember. All I remember is the consuming fear of losing you. Remind me darling.   I hate it when scars fade. That's when I forget all the burns, cuts and bruises. That's when I fall into your arms, forgetting that their safety once suffocated me.   That you once wept as you watched your too tight grasp leave me gasping and clawing at you.   Too selfish and scared to let go just a little. They won't stop asking why I won't leave you.   I've resolved to answering, "I'm a poet. What would I write about if not being in love with a man that thinks I'm pathetic" But we both know it’s nice to come back and be a mess again. I told you you're a lucky man. I didn't tell you I'm a lucky woman too. Ma...

My cousin recently tied the knot, i decided to share a few of the snaps i took on her special day.