You’re that thing I must procrastinate

Put you in the backburner and focus on something else.

Focus on positive vibrations

Trust the process

And soon, my Universe will bring me what’s mine.



Invigilation is a slow game of Pacman. There are, however, no winners;

Just teachers entrenched in those aisle

Picking up dropped pencils and adjusting facedown student cards- bored out of their minds

Knowing fully well that their only escape is a quiet classroom and a pile waiting for that red tick- Or red cross.

Students, stuck in their seats filling pages and pages with dates and sums and reasons in hopes that they will will be rewarded. Sometimes merely waiting for the declaration: “Pens down!”

Indeed, this game of Pacman holds us all hostage!

This Way

I wasn’t born this way.

I wasn’t born in pain.


The Aftermath

The dust settles at some point… all that’s left is rubble and…. mess – in her heart anyway. So now it’s about remembering. remembering how she survived it before… How did she do it in the past? Did she bury herself under her covers? No, she breathed… in and out and in again… that’s it… treat every moment as though you chose it. She chose this moment. It was hers… So what does one do with the moment one has chosen…? She’ll tell you when she knows…



I forbid my learners to use pencils in class.You see, they strive too much for perfection. They write everything in pencil then rewrite it all in pen and, like magic, they produce perfect work – but all the content incorrect. I want them to learn that learning is a process that is not always perfect…

I just hit the halfway mark of the red abyss. That’s right girls and boys, it’s exam time! looking back on the first half, it has been anything but smooth. some days I would only get through 3 or 4 scripts. It’s a rough time in my personal life, you see, and that just spilled over to my work – it happens. So these past 2 weeks I’ve pretty much felt like one of those cartoon characters that gracelessly stumble down a hill hitting their heads and butts and shoulders and faces all the way down the hill and landing with a thud at the bottom. 

But somehow, I am still intact. I think that’s what counts: arriving in one piece, or at least arriving. That’s what learning is about. So clearly I need to take my own advice. Hopefully, the second half of the redabyss will be much less painful though…


Don’t Do that

Don’t toy with the line then laugh it off when you’re called on your bullshit! Don’t do that! Don’t blatantly objectify then deny it when you are denied it. Don’t do that! Don’t respect another man that you don’t know more than you respect me, whom you do know. DON’T DO THAT?! I am a queen -not your play thing.




In case you were wondering, the G-string is the 4th string from the 1st string on the 6 string. The 6 string I’ve been plucking since my youth. The axe which turns my insides into goo. To know that these fingers can produce a metal melody. I love the rhythm and the blues and the notes that say the words that I myself cannot weave together as beautifully as these fingers do. I wish I was better at it, wish I could stretch my fingers further. I wish they were not this lax, this stuck in their ways. This old dog has new tricks to learn. Learnning takes time and practice and practise takes time. And progress is slow and small, but progress all the same. And so I must pluck and pluck and pluck some more. Until the progress is no longer so small.