Just A Guy @gnlives - Tumblr Blog

This is a man that’s never been celebrated

Eyes turned inward dark obliterated

Shooting at stars stark inability

Imagined capacity a barked virility

All those shots in a western Clint woulda

All intentional in a eastern coulda

everything imagined turns religious

Severed between screens, leans towards: never too far

bridges fiends

A youth spurned sacrilegious.

#love #soweto #june 16 #photography #writing #journal

Online night-school.

I got my education in the comments section: cynics debating with doomscrolling nihilists while textbooks lay unread.

Young versus systematic narratives about a doomed youth: “your generation…” they said, over structural failures? Education too expensive, jobs just as elusive; misery filled idle time.

Here I am: somewhere between the algorithm and unemployment, I became delusionally evasive.

Cool! 💀

#soweto #youth #june 16 #journal #love #photography #writing

The loneliness

“I am the master of my destiny…”

That line — repeated and romantic — can feel like a lie when you’re walking alone, confused, weary, and nothing changes despite how hard you try. It speaks of control, but life often feels more like negotiation — with God, with systems, with your younger self, with your tired bones.

And still — you move.

Still — you try.

Still — you write things like this.

Desperation isn’t a spiritual failing. It’s the emotional residue of instability. It’s a system screaming at you to perform for crumbs, while gaslighting you into thinking your hunger is a moral defect.

You didn’t “attract” desperation.

You’re navigating it.

And you’re still showing up. That’s not failure — that’s resilience.

Manifestation culture and its cruelty: it weaponises positive thinking and pins failure on the one who’s already fallen.

You didn’t manifest the storm — you’ve just been trying not to drown.

Shisa nyama lifestyle.

Limited economic opportunities push people into leveraging what they have—whether it’s beauty, charm, or material status—because in capitalism, everything can be monetized. OnlyFans is a prime example: a platform that turns intimacy into a transactional relationship, where the demand for objectification meets the supply of financial need.

Pornography as an outlet for those who can’t access objectified women connects back to the idea of capitalism commodifying desire. The market provides substitutes for what people lack, whether it’s wealth, status, or intimacy. In that sense, the patriarchy and capitalism aren’t separate forces but intertwined—capitalism thrives on patriarchal norms by selling both the fantasy and the means to participate in it.

#Spotify

When the joy of youth left me,

Scared, I left my joys behind, chasing the study of what could be.

She would be beautiful, I would explain.

She would be joyful, I would project my pain.

Why wasn’t she angry like me?

She was just herself—

A marvel to see.

She is in a different world,

Far from where I am.

I remain here,

Still forced to project hope.

The glow of the screen flickers,

A tired witness to my longing,

As I refresh, inventing a way to cope.

Regret devoured courage,

Twisting honesty out of shape.

I was once young,

My love too vulnerable for my age.

Could she see me?

Did she ever?

Please, see me

This past February was weird to say the least, a lot of reflection took place and sentences got strung together.

#spotify #original poem #believe #journal

I was ashamed my mother couldn’t give it all,

To keep up appearances, she bought us a ball.

“Play in the yard, play some cards,

Aim for the sky, shoot for the stars.”

Through hardships we lived, love fought its war,

Friendships we built while searching for more.

But still, we asked—again and again—

Why couldn’t our mother provide it all?

This piece is inspired by Tupac saying “When I was young, me and my mama had beef” I have reflected on this line for a very long time and I just had to express my experience too as a come to terms with my childhood much like Pac.