Koupasetique

"Inspiration doesn’t come – you find it. What do you think all this travelling is about? It doesn’t..."

Thu, 09 May 2013 19:09:32 +0300

“Inspiration doesn’t come – you find it. What do you think all this travelling is about? It doesn’t just come sit on your lap. You can’t be sitting in the same fucking place for 10 years, looking at the same fucking walls in the same way that you’ve always looked at them and expect that something is going to just happen out of nowhere. You’re sitting down waiting for inspiration? You’re going to be waiting for the rest of your life.”

- Ian Kamau in this interview (via neomaditla)

theloveapp: Schwaza Life

Tue, 02 Apr 2013 18:36:47 +0300

theloveapp:

Schwaza Life

I am in fear

Wed, 07 Nov 2012 20:51:29 +0200

There’s this fear of going nowhere slowly
Running around like a headless chicken and not quite moving forward.
There’s this fear of wasted energy, wasted imagination, wasted life.
Yet I can’t stop any of that because if I’m not doing, I’m not trying.

The fear cripples. The fear tastes like failure
The fear envelopes me and all I know is that I don’t know.

This fear is the place from where I function.
This fear won’t tell me what I’m doing wrong
I just know this fear is wrong.

This fear is a part of me
A part I cannot shake
This fear is in part my prison
This fear is in my way
This fear lives on, while I crumble.
This fear is the fear that none of it will end.

This fear isn’t the problem, I am.
I am in fear

Been thinking...

Mon, 22 Oct 2012 23:40:12 +0200

A lot lately.
About nothing
About everything
About how to do better
About how I’ve done worse
About the boy I’m kissing
About the girl I miss
About decisions made
About opportunities missed

How does it feel like we’re going around circles?
By not learning lessons
Not leveraging growth
Thinking that some things just happen
When everything happens for a reason.

About nothing
About everything
A lot of thinking has been done lately.

At Night - Paul Perry

Wed, 17 Oct 2012 22:24:47 +0200

At night

I usually come to life around 10p.m.
Never before that.

That’s to say that before that time,
most of my day is spent in an unconscious stare
I guess I stare at life
Observe it in scary perspective
I measure the way things are
and it’s like myself
is in a state of shock
complete helplessness
so I just stare and wait for the day to go by.
I wait for the stillness of the night
the farewell to any schedule or time slot,
the freedom of the darkness that hides all reality
and reveals the freedom to laugh at those tired from a long day’s work
I awaken to the breakfast of a thousand kings.
at around ten o’clock the phone starts being used
the freezer door starts opening and closing
the ice tray start cracking
and the ice cubes begin to drop into the awaiting glass
the day no longer hunts me down.
my perfect camouflage is the night,
its TV programming,
its healing of the wounds caused by the day,
its glorious farewell to yesterday in the form of a drink
swallow away the worry of not wanting to cope willingly
with life.
who am I
sitting between four walls
and plants?
the Knicks came back after being down by 21.
I switch on some music at 12:13a.m.
the party is just starting
my day has finally begun

Paul Perry

"I found you in the reeds while the water trickled through my fingers, I raised my hand to my face to..."

Mon, 15 Oct 2012 22:59:32 +0200

““I found you in the reeds while the water trickled through my fingers, I raised my hand to my face to wipe the sweat off my brow, hand still wet, I blocked the sun kissing my skin, you were the breeze that cooled me.””

- To love.

Easy like sunshine/Own it like Summer: A Blues For My New Muse or Sometimes, I am a Sad Peach

Thu, 06 Sep 2012 12:13:30 +0300

Easy like sunshine/Own it like Summer: A Blues For My New Muse or Sometimes, I am a Sad Peach:

kingnovamiu:

25.05.12

As it goes, she only ever fell in love with men who reminded her of a Coltrane A-section at high noon. Everything before the brazen sax. Of melody and mahogany. Sir, you are somewhere between Pursuance and I Want To Talk About You.

i.

Girl, you funny. I said, I don’t know much about…

"It’s deplorable that sexually adventurous young women are constantly told they are “degrading..."

Thu, 30 Aug 2012 15:51:27 +0300

“”It’s deplorable that sexually adventurous young women are constantly told they are “degrading themselves” by seeking out various experiences, that every bit of enjoyment eats away at some secret store of purity. This whole tradition–the idea that women need be preserved in glass so as not to “ruin” themselves, lest they diminish their sexual value by “giving it away”–restricts the lived autonomy of women in ways I can’t even begin to articulate. None of the slut-shaming makes sense unless you assume women live to give themselves to men in their purest possible form.””

- Kerry Howley (via thenewwomensmovement)

YES! THIS!

(via beboxedout)

theimpossiblecool: Aretha.

Tue, 28 Aug 2012 17:48:11 +0300

theimpossiblecool:

Aretha.

heritage1960: Morning motivation…Happy Monday, folks!

Mon, 20 Aug 2012 13:52:27 +0300

heritage1960:

Morning motivation…Happy Monday, folks!

kefifi: [FLASHBACK] Ah, this poster takes me back to my...

Fri, 27 Jul 2012 12:08:03 +0300

kefifi:

[FLASHBACK]

Ah, this poster takes me back to my childhood. Almost every black family in my hood (Hamanskraal, South Africa) had it hanging in their house. My gran gave me hers after I became a mom.

rogwalker: Same Time, Same Place: A New Photo Series by Rog...

Tue, 17 Jul 2012 17:43:42 +0300

rogwalker:

Same Time, Same Place: A New Photo Series by Rog Walker

Oh to be young and creative…

“I used to think I was the strangest person in the world, but then I thought, there are so many people in the world; there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine her, and imagine that she must be out there thinking of me, too. Well, I hope that if you are out there and read this and know that, yes, it’s true, I’m here, and I’m just as strange as you.”

These are Frida Kahlo’s words. As I read them, I’m reminded of times I’ve felt my decisions to operate outside of established norms would always be met by disagreement and isolation. Strangely, I was ok with that. Eventually though, I encountered a culture of like minded individuals who have reinforced my belief in the importance of abandoning mass ideals and instead conforming to a life of identity and meaning. My wife and I have been fortunate enough to host some of these creatives at our loft. These are just a few, and as the weeks go by there will be more.

Take heart weird one. There are others like you out there.
-

Rog Walker,
Photographer

...at a party

Wed, 04 Jul 2012 15:24:53 +0300

At a party

Darkness, light, neon, colour,

smiles, useless banter, cigarette smoke, weed puffs,

Roofs, doors, leather couches, tables, walls

Heels clinking on the cement floor, music blaring, laughs awakening

Liqs, lip licks, hair flicks, wit ticks, partner picks

At a party

She’d walked in a little tipsy with a dark man I wouldn’t recognise during the day. Her shawl fell off her shoulder to let the moon kiss her skin
Eyes glazed, mouth glossed, she sucked on her cigarette, exhaled with words forming through the smoke. I think she said my name.
I turned, acted a little surprised as though I didn’t know she’d been nearby me.
We exchanged forgettable pleasantries, I excused myself in search of the bar.

Hours passed with familiar faces. The beats in the background setting the scene for a happy place. It was beautiful, until she found me again.

She was deep in eye contact with another she, the other she a lot less slurry in words, just as glowy in the moonlight and about a head taller than The she.
The She hardly paused her passionate sentence as her arm interrupted my walk past her, I obliged the halt and smiled at the other she, in the moment that the she was relaying a story that had her hot, posture and voice commanding attention from the other she.

I heard her words. I needed them to be misunderstood by me. My ears had to be lying. My being shook in the stillness of pain. I begged not to show what I was feeling in my eyes so I looked at the other she hoping her eyes would tell me this wasn’t happening. I inhaled smoke being born from the fire in my cheeks. I bit the inside of my cheeks to stop the wetness from rolling down my face. I begged my nose not to flare because what was happening was not true.

At a party. The she told me I thought I was special for being raped. Who was I to think I was special, it had happened to her, and numerous other people whose names she threw at my face, I didn’t recognise the names and wondered if that kind of information was mine to know. I asked myself if I would share the names of the many I knew. Would I name drop the souls that had been crushed in moments indescribable.
The she continued, how dare I share my story on such a public platform she blasted. How weak was I to seek compassion over something that has and will happen to millions others. Why the fuck did I think I was so special. She wasn’t asking.

At a party The other she tasted the heat permeating from my skin. She interrupted The She and tried to explain that they knew someone who carried her rape like it was a heavy crown, you see, she was nothing unless she showed to everyone and anyone she had been and a victim.

The rest became a blur. I don’t know when I walked away and at what point my feet took over without being asked, but I did.

So as a victim and survivor, the former not being a choice and the latter not having a right or wrong definition, I fear for the voiceless. I fear for the ones who spoke out, speak out, are in pain, were in pain, walk in the pain in whichever way they can. I fear for us all for it seems we are damned if we do, and damned if we don’t speak.

At a party, I wondered, when will we be okay? When will we be allowed?

Photo

Thu, 28 Jun 2012 11:43:15 +0300

Photo

Mon, 25 Jun 2012 17:01:02 +0300

In a rush to chew my thoughts, before I chew my food.

Thu, 14 Jun 2012 10:21:05 +0300

mydamnblog11:

SO I JUST MADE FOOD FOR THOUGHT.

@janine_j: [SEXISM] Homie don't Play that

Tue, 05 Jun 2012 14:55:24 +0300

@janine_j: [SEXISM] Homie don't Play that:

itsjanine:

Play energy drink is currently running a campaign about extra-ordinary individuals (their words) under the banner ‘Play Heroes’. I was very excited by the few things I saw online, vid clips about people (some of whom I know) doing amazing things in what can euphemistically be called the urban/…

"Change is never painful; Only resistance to change is painful."

Mon, 28 May 2012 12:45:54 +0300

“Change is never painful;
Only resistance to change is painful.”

- Buddha (via theblazinggodhead)

I get it. I just don’t fully agree.

Sometimes change - just change - is the source of pain.

imho.
(via beboxedout)

I fear I never loved you

Mon, 21 May 2012 23:10:16 +0300

I fear I never loved you
The thought of those words are sticky in my mouth
Like the dryness of a Joburg autumn morning, dehydrated and mouldy at the back of my throat.
What is in my chest is the phlegm of the truth, not love.

I fear I never loved you
The motions were like that of a rollercoaster
Yet I was made only of bones that couldn’t sway with ups and downs, and I hit hard against the metal of you
The suns warmth ebbed and flowed, swung down the curve of my lower back, the hills of my hips and the valley in between, but that was not love

I fear I never loved you
You didn’t explode in my heart like that ravenous first bite into a over ripe mango
Skin ripped beneath the pressure of my teeth, the sun of the fruit explored every crevice of my mouth and searched for the fall.
Just as my being tore open and dislocated ribs to make space for the beaming of my heart that was sure to come,
searching for that very fall into a place where lust glided, it was not love

I fear it was all the fear of not having at all that I accepted little

I fear I never loved you
I fear I won’t ever love you

Photo

Wed, 16 May 2012 12:32:47 +0300