48 Page A4 Exercise Book

They're meant to be these vast vistas of endless possibility and, dare I say, clarity. Indeed, they are - don't get me wrong. Nothing quite matches the experience of looking onward into this big blue space of the planet's light reflection, it's remarkable. But it's also nerve-racking. Now hear me out: what if some of us have been programmed and preoccupied with the latest and greatest life stressor of the day that being in plain ol' ordinary stillness feels alien? It's been such a long and arduous journey in my 25 years just to reach this point of jaded frustration. Being still is weird, being clear is weird. My generation, me, I don't know what's wrong with us. When we stress out, that's precisely what we do and we do it often enough that finding a moment to breathe only means waiting for your mind to weaponise peace against you. Because ideas like rest and clarity are so foreign to us. It's always WORK/STUDY/PLAN/DO/THINK/ACT - there's ...

I've been thinking about coming back to writing lately, not sure if that means I have new things to say or I've gotten bored with everything else that's been occupying me lately. Either way, I took my breather now I'm back! Well, kind of. You see, as a young lad coming into his own, I've experienced a fair share of human cruelty - hurtful words used, bullying, unfairness, gaslighting, manipulation... you know, I'm not even sure that's even accurate. BUT YOU SEE, THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING! How could I even not rely on my own memories when I was there feeling those emotions, live jive? It's a bit awkward now, folks. But basically, I'm in a space where I can begin pouring back into writing but at a more infrequent rate as before. The last entry about my alma mater was really more for me to remember my writing was asked for by the vice principal as an alumni - maybe not the grandest news you've ever heard but it's really the nostalgia of it ...

  ''Thuto Tsela'' is the motto, and it means ''learning is the way'' - sure explains a lot about the journey I'm still on. Being a Broadhurst Primary student or ''Broadhurstrian'', as I think they should be called, is a colourful experience that transforms a pupil into a student - you go from being guided by someone to seeking for yourself. You understand  the principles & values of discipline that help build up the character of integrity we admire in the best of us. But you also start off as a young person who needs a place to learn and play. 13 years after fact, and I'm among the few who carry the honour of walking the colourfully painted corridors in the friendly neighbourhood - the Library and its page-turners sharing an open plan space furnished by bean bags and a classic VCR player with the Computer Lab. I barely remember but I think we just called that place ''computers'' and it was colloquial for, would...

Growing up the way that I did; reserved, quiet and unseen, I never really felt like I was an important part of... anything, really - my family, my class or even the human race. My theatre of experience felt like something that was happening to me and and not from or because of me. So I created my own little world, and only a few would have the privilege of being a part of it except me. I was your unfriendly neighbourhood introvert but I wanted to be around other people and I couldn't stand my own company. The way I was an introvert was unhealthy and it pushed more people away than I had intended. I wasn't just an introvert - I was an anti-social butterfly. It had reached a point where my attitude in strenuous social situations needed me to be babied, and I was ungrateful for it. I think I've developed the presence of mind and vocabulary to say ''I'd really like to have time to myself'' when my social battery runs out but I picked it up too late. I didn...

I, sometimes, feel fear when I think of letting go - more so when I think of others doing the same. The spaces in my memories are inhabited by perfect moments given to me by imperfect people who offered me a glimpse into an expression of their best selves in that moment.  I celebrate the holiness of those experiences, but mourn the brevity of their passage. Those moments felt designed - everything happening exactly the way it did for this moment to happen exactly the way it has so I can feel exactly the way I do about it, about myself and my company. While side-stepping comforts like ''right place, right time'' and ''everything happens for a reason'' really don't give deliberate or concise answers, they certainly become real in those moments of design. But those moments come to an end, just like everything else that has a beginning. Some people transition into ordinary life quite easily after, in an almost dispassionate fashion. Me, and people like m...

Dear future Kago, I hope that when you read this back, it's in celebration of both the distance travelled and the path taken. It's alright if, even at this point, you still don't have all the answers. We left the timetables and rubrics back with the uniforms and homework dairies, best they stay there, yeah? Dairies are good for journaling, though - hope you're still doing that.  Life has this way of punctuating your best moments with grievous and varying degrees of harm, and I hope you've found an even better way of taking those moments to slow down and breathe so you can continue at your pace. At some point, we mope and gripe like LiFe hAsNt beEn fAiR wHy hAs iT bEeN sO hArD, but what good has that ever done for anyone?  I'm really a ''I've got it pretty good'' kinda guy now - still got ten fingers to count my blessings and two legs to jump for joy about 'em. Things have definitely gotten better in the last year and I don't mean just...

You know, this lockdown gave me time to think. I mean, I'm always thinking, yeah, but it's been less an intellectual exercise and more an intrapersonal utility for musing. I started thinking about my theatre of experience differently, and everything changed - I started thinking ''how will I see this choice from my death bed'', and everything changed. I started treating myself like a brand and my life as a marketing strategy, and everything changed. I started seeing my activity in this world as a first-person video game, and everything changed. I don't know, I figured my life would be easier to live if I started looking at it as something I'd want to see myself in - everything down to my alarm waking me up, I treat like an occasion. You gotta be authentic in how you occupy your space. If you enjoy reading, maybe you're the brave protagonist on a hero's journey. If you appreciate sports, maybe you're the brilliant upstart who's hungry to ch...

The healing you experience after post-traumatic growth is supposed to extend as far as the place where the hurt initially came from. Take it from a guy who's always been cornered by the expectation of being the ''bigger person'' after a great big emotional mix up of misunderstandings and poorly articulated feelings - your healing is as much for the person who hurt you as much as it is for you. It stands to perfect reason why you'd want absolutely nothing to do with the person who hurt you; just heal and carry on with life as normal, right? At best, wish them well and never devote another moment of your thought towards them. It also stands to reason why someone would rather carry the grudge with them. Even if people say they aren't holding grudges, you can almost see the barbed wires cutting into their hearts... you can hear it in their voice that there's still anger. Wherever there's anger, you'll see that it's actually pain if you in...

Hemostasis Phase In the time that I've been away, I noticed that I've been running from something. Facing up to who I'm capable of being was simple enough when it was to see the brighter side of things. But it'd become more about staring into the abyss, the parts that I could see were still dark now that the light was shining on them. In the time that I've been away, I learned how to process fear. There was a time when it had gotten all too easy to use the Loft as an escapist tool - I'd have an idea, say some words, be an optimist about it and start over. For a few hours a week, I could get away from the real issues and spread positivity to the few I write for. But I felt divorced from my own writing, and each new post drew me further away from myself. Beyond the chattering activity of my mind's renewal was the hallow sound of a much darker place that I was poorly prepared look into, so I stayed in the light and let it blind me so I wouldn...