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a life so small – A poem inspired by A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara

How much can one achieve  in a little life?  a life so small  How do you go about the day  always getting in your own way?  Clinging to skyscrapers tall  Your friends are there  yet you don't know why they care  Jumping from fire escapes  you're so used to the fall  The bruises, broken bones, bleeding  you think they don't see  when you've held the shining thing  to your torn-up skin  a certain kind of dependency  You let yourself shiver  in spite of the arms that long  to cradle you Cry yourself a river  until your hollow spaces  leave no traces  Forlorn jungle eyes gaze at portraits  that, despite their beauty,  bring you shame  soothes and destroys just like your name  because you were baptised  in the kind of water  that doesn't cleanse  but drowns  What colours do you use to paint  a lost cause  who's also a patron saint?...
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What It Means To Be An Optimist 🌻

      Image source: Pinterest I'm the kind of person who believes that the world is a beautiful place. I choose to see the best in a situation. No matter how gloomy things may appear, there must be a silver lining somewhere. As an optimist, I want things to work out and I keep that hope in my heart. This doesn't by any means indicate that I'm blind to all the catastrophy and cruelty that goes on in the world. I've seen things and heard things that have shaken me to my core.  Often I read books and watch movies that don't sugarcoat suffering and that depict life realistically. Being an optimist doesn't mean turning away from reality in order to live in an injustice-free utopia. When I read stories where the characters go through painful events, I feel their pain and frustration. But throughout, I hold the faith and hope that they will rise up and their lives will change for the better. In spite of the sheer hopelessness that surrounds them, I refuse t...
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Wit Heinings(An Afrikaans Short Story)

  Die trein kaartjie. Dis al waaraan sy kan dink. Die trein kaartjie; dis haar sleutel tot vryheid. Tot asemhaling, ja dit sal haar longe weer lug laat proe. Binne haar handsak – die glinsterende bottelgroen een wat sy verafsku, die een wat hy vir haar as geskenk vir hulle eerste huweliksherdenking gegee het (nie noodwendig oor die kleur, of die gehalte, of die prys nie, maar eerder oor die sentiment wat daaragter skuil) – tussen die voue, lê die vierkantige papiertjie. Sy vroetel met haar vingers binne in die bottelgroen mond, haar hand Jona en die 'geliefkoosde' handsak die vis. Uiteindelik voel sy die kaartjie– dit was darem nie ingesluk en weggevoer nie. En blaas saggies uit. Die agterkant van haar skedel raak aan die koel muur. Daar's niemand langs haar nie. Haar oë gaan toe en prentjiemooi beelde van 'n paradys neem haar verstand oor. Alleen lê sy op 'n goue strand, geniet die ligte somer briesie oor haar vel. Sal iemand haar as mal beskou indien sy nou '...
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