If I die young

Just listen to the lyrics.. that's all I'm saying.

uh ohhh...

For some reason I feel like I should be keeping you entertained. You? Who are you? I don't know? There isn't really one person that is all too interested in what I have to say. But I keep thinking I'm letting you down by not posting. I may be rambling but it seems as though the world is in need of some more motivation? I really hope I'll be good at this in the near or distant future. If there are any questions or anyone wanting my help - I can help, I'm not completely useless - please just send me an email or something, I'll be there for you.

Change Your Words

Monday Blues

The sadness and sheer desperation when you wake up Monday morning and find that you're at the same stale desk, doing the same mundane task AND YOU HATE IT!

So why do you do it? Why did you chose a career that you hate? Don't hate the world because YOU made the wrong decision.

Sometimes you don't get a choice though. maybe you're still a minor that has to go to school. Be grateful. There are so many children out there that are: child slaves, factory workers, innocent prostitutes, virgin wives, guerrilla fighters and most saddening - to me at least - there are children out there that are struggling to stay alive everyday because of malnutrition, dehydration and famine and the last thing they'll ever receive is an education.

In my country - and perhaps more worldwide - the families that have 2 or more children and only one pair of shoes. The education is free but they arent allowed to arrive at school without proper uniform and unfortunately they have to take turns in wearing the shoes so that they might go to school.

In South Africa, we have a growing nation full of young leaders that thrive on the kinds of opportunities we get. I recently had the opportunity to meet a group of a dozen students from our poorer districts that, after years of struggling with a lack of money for a full education at university, they've been given the opportunity to study medicine in Cuba. The faces of proud parents and overwhelmed students that have never seen an airport before let alone a different country. It was life changing.

The fact that you're reading this blog already tells me that you have enough money to explore the internet and at leisure which should mean that you can afford atleast two pairs of shoes and you can also read which is more than alot of african COUNTRIES!!! Yes whole countries will go without even primary education.

Feeling guilty yet? I hope so. Next time you have the MondayBlues because you have to go to work for a living, think about those thousands of people that would die to be in your shoes...

Toms Shoes: one for one

How Do You Comfort a Stranger?

Imagine you’re just walking down a street – preferably a safe one – and you see a girl about your age sitting on some steps. She’s just staring into the distance: not moving, not saying anything, and blinking only when the tears make her eyes too heavy. She’s dressed for something special, and even though it’s cold out, she hasn’t got a jersey and the only thing she has on is a fitted black dress and fishnet stockings, red heels thrown aside.

‘Why is she sitting here?’ you start to wonder. Should you be a gentleman and sit down beside her and let her mouth just empty out her story? Is it too late to pretend not to notice her? Perhaps your best option to get away is to pretend you’ve forgotten something and turn back to find another way home. While, in the time you’ve taken to think, she’s turned towards you with a desperate look in her eyes.

“We enjoy warmth because we have been cold,” stutter her lips. “We appreciate light because we have been in darkness... And in the same sense, we can experience joy because we have known sadness.” A tear breaks through her mascara.

Intrigued, now, at what she has to say, your feet draw mistakenly toward her. Your own silence follows. “Sorry,” she stumbles, “I didn’t mean to disturb you, but the air is too pressing for silence.” She begins to rub away the tears.

Confused yet still silent you’re lost for words, your hands start pointing in different directions, supposedly indicating if you can leave. The look on her face makes you stop and just say “Huh?”

She looks where the moonlight sheds an eerie light on the alleyway, takes a deep breath ready to speak and starts weeping again. You stride toward the alleyway, determined to find the problem, and convert into what she must’ve looked about ten minutes ago. Guys don’t walk down the street prepared for this.

Lying by the wall like a clump of old play dough was a baby. Covered in everything; from dirt to after birth. Through glassy eyes you notice light bruises, and even as horrific as the image is, you can’t push your own eyes away.

That tiny baby was a victim and unknown to be so. Nobody knows what happened to it and nobody knows what to do with it. An inconvenience to everybody.