Hey loves, this is me writing you this little note in hopes that you're still well and that my fellow South African youth had a great Youth day yesterday. For this week's Music Monday post treat yourself to some kwaito music in the form of Zola's Mdlwembe -- this is only the tip of the iceberg that is my love for old school kwaito music. One day I'll bake a cake made up of rainbows and we'll all dance the night away to great '90s (and early '00s) kwaito, hip hop and R&B music. Soonest.
Tags: music monday
Hello, you beauts!
For this week's 7 things post I've put together a few (seven, if we're being exact) tattoos I'm hoping to get one day. There's probably more but the feature's not "7 Things or more," which I'm thankful for because I can get quite chatty...
1. I want my little brother's name on my left wrist, maybe even some small angel wings.
2. Jasmine Mans' "Never regret loving in permanent ink" quote from her poem Ex-Lover. I want this on one of my forearms.
3. Another Mans quote from her poem Gardenia: "It's the dizzy and the dancing after the music stops." I want this one on my right foot, close to my ankle.
4. A small unicorn coin on my hand.
5. My mother and grandmother's names close to my collar bone or down my spine.
6. "Mad woman in the making" on the underside of my hand.
7. "A prayer for the wild at heart, kept in cages*" somewhere intimate.
Would you get a tattoo? If so, what would it be and have you though where on your body you'd want it?
Thank you for stopping by.
This past weekend was just an emotional whirlwind for me. Sometimes I forget just how too deeply I feel things. You know that bitter sweet feeling that comes from going through a photo album filled with photos of people you knew once, people who couldn't stay, photos of a girl who looks strangely like you but isn't really? A girl who had this 100 watt smile and dreams? That. I did that this pat week. It wasn't a physical album but conversations of a man who walked away with my heart in a bag. He took me in a black plastic bag and didn't dare look back. In true Nomali form, I tried to erase a lot of the good stuff. Forgot. Then wondered why I felt such a gaping hole from his walking away. Was I insane for feeling for him so strongly at times? Had I imagined a lot of it? Going through these conversation again made me realise it'd actually happened, which made me wonder what went wrong -- aside from my infuriating moodiness, of course. I even wrote him an honest letter (I don't have an address) more honest than the million thoughts and words I've written to "Nathan." Called him by his name and everything.
This is the song he told me to listen to one day. Habibi, you are all my saudades.
Tell the one you love that you love them. Don't put it off. If you still can, fight for them. Reclaim that girl in those photos.