Anonymous said: I love your blog!!! your writing is amazing and your taste in music. can you recommend anything you've been listening to lately?
thank you and thank you :)
I’ve basically been listening to Gambino’s STN MTN / Kauai on loop and remembering Frank Ocean’s Nostalgia, Ultra, The Lonny Breaux Collection and Channel Orange. I just really miss him.
Anonymous said: are you seeing anyone r/n?
lol. no. I’m almost always a lot or not enough. I haven’t learnt how to be grey.
Anonymous said: stumbling upon your blog was everything :). I understand how creepy this may come across but I just had to tell you how much i am in love with it and your writing. Phumie :)
thank you :) that’s love.
cool creepin, I appreciate you.
love again and again. x
yayahsox said: Hey Naledi, I think you are a very beautiful soul. Your writing is everything, one of the reason I started following your page. When you have time please check out my page and my recent piece "My father found out that I'm gay".
thank you so so much, that’s really everything to me. I’m about to check it out.
bless. cure. x
These really are my crazy years.
Part of the title for this was quite clearly inspired by what I claim to be one of my favourite books primarily because the syllabus told me to read it in high school. These days, I say that one of my favourite books is a novel by John Green about love and longing and searching for something or someone that you know you can’t possess. I wonder if you have noticed how I am drawn to this green light type of plot. The more concerning point is that this too was a recommendation, except this time, not by my educators or the government and so forth – someone my size suggested it so I figured I’d give it a read.
By more concerning point, I’m trying to make you aware of the fact that one of my deepest satisfactions is writing and yet I seem to be particularly opposed to sourcing out material courtesy of my own initiative. When people tell me things like, “you are so talented and gifted at this, surely God must be real” or something silly like that to account for whatever this is that I’m doing, I just agree because I guess they would be quite dissatisfied if they knew that I draw my material from movies and absurd amounts of reality TV. I’ve always been more of a visual artist anyway and I’m really not sure where the words find me.
I swear these are my crazy years.
The other day someone asked me who inspired me growing up and of course I said “my mother and Oprah” because I felt that was the appropriate brown girl response. I suppose at the time I had figured that this girl would’ve looked at me sideways if I had told the truth about Mia Wallace. Don’t even ask me how Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction is one of my idols because I’m about to explain.
She is so damn flawless.
I truly believe that God proves his existence through all post-modernist films in order to illustrate the way that life shows how different concepts relate to one another. You see, Mia is many concepts but mainly, she is cryptic and she is also impossible to solve so don’t try to figure her out as intriguing as she may appear. Mia is the type of woman you hear about before you encounter.
They will tell you a story about how her and her husband threw a man off a building and that is where the story will end. You will take her for dinner even though you have heard that a husband exists and she will not discuss any relations with her husband but will confirm that he threw a man off a building and that the only truth is between him and the man. This is still not what crippled me about her. Mia is type with enough audacity to dance around her house wearing the coat of the man who is not her husband. She throws herself a four minute party floating across the room singing the lyrics to the song I believe she was directing at the eight year old me.
“Girl, you’ll be a woman soon”.
I’ll never forget how quickly she smoked that cigarette and at the same time found a prize in the man’s jacket that I was sure killed her, but it didn’t because she is Mia Wallace. It took getting to my twenties and watching the film again to realize that she had mistaken the heroin in his jacket for cocaine when she snorted it. Might I also point out that this is not my being inspired by drug use, this was my being inspired by her survival. In my mind that was when the girl became a woman. A young one, but a woman nonetheless.
These are my crazy years so let me explain.
She woke up with a howl, like a fucking wolf or something and then she told a joke like nothing happened because that’s what seems to happen in your twenties – a whole lot and then nothing and so the cycle continues and I remember to remain consistently inconsistent throughout my crazy years.
- Naledi Sibisi