Category: words
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I know
I know you’re going to want to see this letter Wishing for comfort Feeling misunderstood Feeling confused because they said they love you Feeling used Feeling like you have everything to say but no one has asked you, Or you’ve run out of people to tell, Or people to call, Or people to take calls…
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On Booze and Being a Writer
Lord Bryon said that “Man being reasonable must get drunk; The best of life is but intoxication”. The regulars at clubs as well as authors seem to concur, so maybe I lost some memo along the way. Literature is peppered with heavy drinkers. From the Fitzgeralds to the quieter, lonelier drinkers like Charles Bukowski, there…
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Chat with Thabie
Short background about yourself. I was born on the 15th of January 1994 in Mafikeng (North West), spent my first two years of life in Pretoria. In 1997, we moved to the City of Roses, Bloemfontein, and I have been living there ever since. I went to Eunice Primary and High…
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Chat with Coin
Short background about yourself. Bookworm. What were you like at school? I was a nerd through and through – although I didn’t like going to school per se. Insane affinity for mathematics. Diligent, highly inquisitive although I abhorred the construct of “school”. On Wednesdays, Gabsie and I had mini-Saturday – where we’d go to…
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ABOUT: Lebogang Mashishi
“We all need someone to hold our hand, tell us it will be alright, we could all do with a bit of motivation” Lebogang Mashishi’s love for reading and writing started when he was in high school. Over the years, he observed the life around him and with the hopes of making a difference in…
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I WANT MY HEART BACK
The day you dumped me, you forgot to give me my heart back, I was not aware that you did that with intentions of breaking me down. You kept it in your hands and whenever you saw me smiling, heading to my happiness you smashed it bit by bit to an extent that I never…
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Flawed Tears
Men lost their souls in serenades, Glanced as we, Who believed in eternity, Travel the route to infinity. We discarded thorny trees, Watched chosen doves grace the heavens. We pealed sweat up our sleeves, Slumbered heavily on snares; We believed more in heaven’s padlocks, Than keys we possessed for our households. The onus of truth…