Perspectives from the dark. @mrvilakazi - Tumblr Blog

01:14

Lately the evenings have been colder and to you I've grown fonder. Inadvertently this happened at a time were I'm going through different shades of melancholy blues. The lack of nicotine in my system and the pressure of assignment submissions makes the thought of becoming a sperm donor for a few racks really appealing right now. Its interesting to note how everyone has something positive to say about the struggle , how it builds character, teaches you life lessons and shit like that. All I know right now as I go through the struggles of becoming an alumni, writer and an all round active member of society , the struggle noise is over rated and it can really put you in a bad space. My advice tow you is find a way to let off some steam. There is no instance were the struggle can be romanticized, that's the beauty Cole was talking about I guess. The reality of it all,those people and those moments within that phase of your life. Its hard to pay attention when you're going through all the shades of melancholy blues yet somehow thoughts of you bring a different tone to these shades. Although its momentarily, I take it all in like observing beautiful scenery. As for my nicotine deficiencies, I'm lucky to have associated myself with nicotine fiends so at least that's sorted.

Put off by today's weather.

I am put off by the lack of recognition I receive. I am put off by the inability of my talents to put me on. I am put off by the non-existing regard received for all the pieces I write. I am put off by my financial limitations. I am put off by the hope of my finances expanding due to my talents. I am put off by the inconsistences in the relationships I am a part of. I am put off by the inadequacies I am faced with when reading news headlines or engaging in conversation with my peers. I am put off by how I can never find the meaning of it all. I am put off by my constant battles with identity and finding a place in the world. I am put off by this existential crisis I have been dealing with since age 7. I am put off by this aching need to belong. I am put off by how perfectly I fit in this space I have curved up for myself. I am put off by the comfort I find in looking at the stars. I am put off by her lovely smile and its hopelessness annihilating radiance. I am put off by the sporadic influx of serene thoughts in my head. I am put off by how obscured the truth often is. I only have these two dilated pupils to help keep my vision exquisite, This being the only prerequisite to maintain this few grips of sanity I have left.

03:48

In hindsight I see my anxiety as having certain artistic resonance in how I perceive and interact with life.

Penned this listening to a Flying Lotus instrumental

"Sunday night tormented chilling lonely by this smoking section. Thoughts of you I'm slowly sifting through all my minds intersections/ Experiments with death cause with life I see no correlation, Endless torment I'm a prisoner of this detriment. Often chosen though it leaves you corroded, I'm walking on a path love eroded. Once olden, follow the trail like Alice without the wonder land/ This broken heart my only token/ Gains me entry into a gallery where my life's work was stolen. Steady evolving with this poison, cancerous my emotions kill of that hope shit, Partly why I'm always lit/ but my lungs remain fit as I inhale pounds of that tilt. And so drift..... to places in my mind where I'm not sure what exists, And as I explore I make a list/ Lord I pray you assist, I'm on my knees this prayer feels like I'm throwing a fit. 23 thinking of all the times my Dad would preach, he said son one day you'd reach... so teach!!!

thetpr

Man, sometimes it takes you a longtime to sound like yourself - Miles Davis

wnq-writers

If I were a poet, I suppose I would be able to sort through the storm of thoughts behind my eyes with pretty metaphors and clever turns of phrase. I suppose I would compare my anger to the oppressive silence of the night. I would relate my loneliness to the sad wind rattling empty tree branches. I guess I would say my rare moments of happiness are like the little pinpricks of light piercing through the velvety darkness. If I were a poet, I would probably relate my depression to the emptiness I feel in crowds of people. But I’m not poet; my anger is just anger, my loneliness just loneliness, my occasional happiness just that, and my depression merely depression. Shame I can’t sugar-coat my mind.

princesslittlebottom (via wnq-writers)

#1 Gone, What's left is this book With all its empty pages Waiting to be filled with emotions And thoughts evoked from memories of you. In this book with its empty pages, i'll fill it with all my lonely moments without you and disregard anyone and anything who'll attempt to take away these thoughts and memories of you. Long as I have this ink, These memories to recall then i'll have words to fill these pages even though you won't be around while i go through these phases and different stages. So i'll write these words and fill these pages with images of you I put together with my lonely, hopefuly sober thoughts. #2 All this commotion in my head, Thoughts and emotions have me laying in my bed, images and pictures of you in my head going through my own personal gallery. Emptying out my memory bank and making deposits of things related to you, from the falling of a rain drop to the dying color of a falling leave from a tree in Autumn. Thoughts go on and from my face a smile blossoms like a sun flower in spring, feelings as loud as the sound of thunder, in me pain and sorrow pillage and plunder then I lay in ruin from all the destruction caused by the all my inaction,pride and inability which left me so frail and crippled I could not even gather the strength to say 'hi'. #3 All this commotion Caused the erosion of What i held dear But felf held back To make better the conditions For which to strengthen my Position in your life. A position i held dear And near to me but like Any fool failed to hold tight, Invest and water it to grow and flourish. A fool needs no pitty, A fool is silly and Acts willy nilly. No respect for time Nor the ability to appreciate what most my see as a blessing needing the best nursing but I being the fool, i stand here cursing at the same time hurting and mourning my loss,not to death but immaturity,fear and the inability to give love to another besides oneself and ones vices. #4 Slave to my vices In my trying times In sunny times And in wet and 'cryie' times. In all these times Im lost in thought And caught in a void Zoning out whilst in class, Waiting to runaway to my vices My safe haven, My sources of comfort In times of distrought. All times of discomfort exist in the present No past Nor future Right now, the present being a constant Whether motionless, Overly active My thoughts persist And my vices still exist, Really caught in a twist, I guess life is really a mix, All there is, is time Action and inaction all throughout time Escape you and the world through all my vices within time.

Still perspectives from the dark

Lost in a depth of nothing. Silently wallowing in an abyss of, shit I don't know. I'm just lost flowing and floating within this mist and liquid. Patiently dealing with misinterpreted feelings fighting misguided thoughts on a daily basis. Dealing with a never ending time span whilst colliding with life deteriorating habits. What was time anyway? What is a life misspent? Seven billion plus people, Allow me to walk my own unenlightened path. Praying and dreaming of a better road, Insha'allah!!!

Who are we?

Identity, We look in the mirror and see a beings we can not relate to individually, Close our eyes and see a faint image of what one could be but fear keeps us with our heads between our legs. We spend days wondering how we are lost and torn between being an individual and conforming to the norm. Trapped in a line full of clones, Marginalised by mass media, Penalised by the education system Thus denied the ability to think freely and individually. How are we moving forward yet acting backwards, Different forms of thinking are like stray bullets creating casualties of these internalised norms. We need more of these. Coercion and propaganda fuel our daily activity and interaction, Which keeps us in the same colour t shirt at the same time blinded from the multidimensional complexity that is the human identity. Individualism is history, Group identity is the rule of the day, Identity itself can not be defined rather we are sold the dream that we are all one and the same, a part of the human race.

nicrawhani

Wits Fees Protest Day 2

An itch

Mind is fixated on a particular feeling, Imagine chasing a dragon. A mythical and elusive creature, On a quest to find and tame this feeling. Incomparable, Unfathomable, Near impossible, Yet still one chases. Switches up strategies, Makes use of alternative routes, Each bringing one closer at the same time even further away from the dragon. Throughout the journey, With that recurring yet blank feeling, One questions sanity, In a mind reprogrammed by the impurities and delusions of the chase. Challenging rationale, Misinterpretation of information taken in, Distortion of reality, All in an attempt to find the ever mythical and elusive dragon.

Hope exists.

My life is like a system formed of dwarf planets, Failed attempts by the universe to create something the stars would marvel at, Half dead celestial bodies floating in the cosmos uninhabited. Denied life and thus the ability to create an environment conducive for the existence of any life forms. Yet.. Asteroids tell a tale of a time before time, Colliding particles and over active molecules acting together to create the bane of non-existence; Life. Such as my life, it is still to ignite and truly unfold much like the planets in our solar system.

I should die

To not exist, Completely desist, I long for an end, The beginning of my purpose. Figured it out from an early age, As time has been counting down, The morning is running out of dawns, That which i came for is coming to a full circle. What is a life if no death is experienced, Death the only time out of time I'll experience, Marvel at things unfathomable and drift like speckles of dust into complete nothing. Drawn to an end, Born to die, Live life to perish, An end in it's ending. A breathtaking gift, The end of a life allowing the fulfilment of purpose.

Confessions in the shadows.

I am drawn towards the celestial lights, Often dream of what its like to be a celestial light, An eternal fire burning within time and space. I am attracted by death, Close my eyes wondering if I'll die today, Wake up like a teenager smitten and she's rhe first thing that comes to mind. I am in love with the colour black, It fades infinitely into itself, Creates the image of depth within depth, Completely void yet gives false hope of sorts. I am tormented by faith in the falsehood of a better tomorrow.

A side note on an early death.

Im afraid to write lately, Im afraid to put on paper what i feel, what I've observed and what i imagine. Im afraid of how great it will be,how honest it could be and more so what it is I'll write down. Flawed as it may be,I'm afraid of my reflection. My words are a reflection of my true self, my thoughts, my feelings, my moods,my instinct. Things i do not understand but feel, places ive never been but imagine. Im afraid of writing because i fear my own truth, instead of escape i use my writing to find myself, i dig up from the depths of my soul, shadows in my head and the skeletons in my closest. I dig up corpses of dead dreams and memories and add it to the pile of already enormous tormenting reminders of failure and inability to find my feet. A flawed approach to facing life, I fight of my problems facing up while downing shots of liquid courage. Hoping i find the answers while back stroking in a bottle. The only true thing that helps me maintain my sanity is the remainder that it all stops at some point, the question is when will i reach my stop and thus attain eternal peace.

Views from a muddy puddle.

See I'm caught up in this confusion/ We got a fairly new constitution/ but why do my brother's keep on losing? Struggling with these institutions/ I mean we need a solution. Tell me do you have another conclusion? Mine is because of our skin tone we're cursed to keep on losing. Shit my little cousin was caught practicing prostitution / Her body the only ammunition to shoot against life's instability. Regardless we keep on moving, maneuvering our way around all these inconsistent movements but really the truth is we're configured to strive in isolation.

Unmasked of our ugly.

The world and it's inconsistencies, Hideous in it's inability to maintain the doctrines it supposedly stands for. Peace, Democracy, Ubuntu, All ideals with expiry dates attached to them much like a carton of milk. Humanity and it's demented plans to take care of a world consumed by endless construction, A war for resources and what little land is left. Hate and disease are in as much abundance as Hunger and bullets, The lands are watered with blood and buildings built with corrosive material that eats away at souls occupying these spaces. Different gods but only one is the most praised, The one god that is followed by every religion, Money, is at the root of all evil and potential for any good that may still exist. Humanity is a soules and dying species, Born and bred to consume and destroy all in it's path this including itself. The end of ages is upon us.

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Perspectives from the dark.