I’m sure you are confused. You may be wondering what could be worse than all that I had forgiven. It was the realization—after I had accepted that I could love you despite our unexpectedly different viewpoints—that you had spit in the face of all that I held true and good.
All great things come in whispers. Secrets between best friends. Secrets between lovers. Secrets between the spiritual and their gods. Secrets between atheists and logic. Secrets between the universe and a desperate writer that has foolishly given herself a three-month deadline to complete her first book.
Sometimes I think a word is coming to me. I freeze my muscles in anticipation. My fingers poised readily over the keys.
…thanks to the great amount of reading I have been doing in the past few weeks [my new blog entries] will be far more informative and perhaps even provocative (as most truths tend to be).
I’m not saying women with jobs are bad mothers; I just think a good mother with a job can be a far better one without.
I was going to dismiss the idea of trapping every moment of my life in there but I realise now, that it really does matter what happens to me on the 5th of Whenever. It’s about trapping life and giving me a way to really re-experience things. What I really worried about was filling its pages with the names of people who wouldn’t matter in five years but I realise now, that everyone matters.
This is where my list ends. There are a lot more people that i admire but if i met all these people; i’d die content.
I’m part of a cultural group whose customs and identity is quickly being eroded by the times. What now if half of that group begins to redefine their ‘role’ in the group and therefore change what it means to be a Motswana Woman? Is feminism really a positive tool if we’re trying to preserve a culture thats so rapidly dying?
But when the lights are switched off and there’s not an audience-member in sight, I have one big fear when it comes to death. I’m piss-scared of dying in my sleep.
K. Siyanda M. creates her playground…