thedimplesonmythighs

[thedimplesonmythighs]

Family Massacres that shook South Africa 

https://youtu.be/kAF_Uz1qsao

#true crime #True Crime Stories #true crime community #true creepy stories

[thedimplesonmythighs]

Most wanted in South Africa| Life and crimes of Ananias Mathe| True crim...

#truecrime #most wanted #Serial rapist #south africa #true crime community

[thedimplesonmythighs]

The Axeman Serial Killer | The case of Joseph Ntshongwana | True crime c...

#true crime #truecrime #Serial killer #true crime stories #true creepy stories

[thedimplesonmythighs]

When the well of strength that poured out of your pain runs dry, the pride you sucked out of it now has a disgusting taste of shame, and you are right at the edge of the strong woman syndrome. When the glow of your words in telling your life stories no longer makes their reality beautiful. When the big girl, the soldier who marches on, shrinks into a lump of weakness. When the loudest of your laughs no longer melts the phantom lumps in your throat from constantly holding back tears. When you finally feel pain as it is, raw and ugly. The only hope is…… this life is insanely unpredictable. Tomorrow might just be a better day.  

[thedimplesonmythighs]

She loved the sea. She liked the sharp smell of the air; and the vastness of the horizons bounded only by a vault of azure sky above. It made her feel small, but free as well.

George R.R. Martin (via purplebuddhaquotes)

[thedimplesonmythighs]

Stripped naked, I was willing to dive deep into his sea of love. Let myself drown in it and feel the weight of my hair as if drenched in sand and sea water. I only felt it up to my knees. The waves must have been delayed, or maybe the walk to the deep was too long to be sustained by my short-lived anticipation. That was the end of it. For me, love was never patient.

Philisiwe Phelokazi Cenga

[thedimplesonmythighs]

Love-letter to my sister

When my skull stopped bleeding, when the cracks from being thrown against the wall melted together and I forgot the moments I dozed off waking up with my lips bruised and a throbbing headache. I forgave you. That one cold Cape Town winter when no pain shot through my elbow joint, and I no longer had to be limited on the weight I carry. When I no longer could recall the exact shade of green it turned the night after you twisted it. I forgave you. When mother stopped crying. When her tears dried up and she could bare to look at anything that resembled you again. When her midnight murmurs stopped and her face could conceal any hint of brokenness when she spoke of you. I forgave you. Even though I never understood the raging fire that’s your anger, there were times I wanted to just sit by your side and let you know that I am here for you. Your anger isolated you, isolation and you were never good together. I hope you find some comfort in knowing that I wasn’t so angry, that a huge part of me just wanted to understand, to make it better, to make it stop, for both of us. But then, what does a 12 year old late bloomer do when she sees her  25 year old sister hurting? Who does she tell when that hurt spills over? I, too, was isolated. For I, too, at that specific time, isolation was not good.

 But..I stopped bleeding. I forgot the pain. Mama’s will to bring you back home was revived. I forgave you. Come back home so you can live, and your being can be whole again.

#Sisterhood love #Family #Noxolo

[thedimplesonmythighs]

L O V E D R O W N S A N G E R E V E R Y T I M E

I will remember this morning as the first morning after she came back into my life. One of very few mornings I sat in front of my computer and attempted to write but could not breathe. I sat helplessly trying to gather myself back to a state of peacefulness. Someone should have told me though, just a mention of this unfathomable pain you experience on your first step to healing. If I had been aware of the level of discomfort my being will have to endure, walking barefoot on thorny road would be such a beautiful distraction. I am speaking in riddles, I know. Truth be told, even I am confused of which exactly of all these betrayals I have suffered am I healing from right now. I was fine really, life was good, I had buried everything down that bottomless pit that’s my ‘I can live without you so go fuck yourself for all I care’. When I am ready I will write about my older sister, I will write about my love for her. In an attempt to drown my anger, I will stay in love.

#Love

#Anger

#Sisterhood

#Family

[thedimplesonmythighs]

I could write about what  and how I feel right now but then it might validate all these insecurities. Imagine all these fears being stamped into true existence. I mean, this is me we are talking about, have you seen the confidence my walk? The work of my hands screams beauty, let alone the life that comes from the words I speak. My smile breathes freshness; my existence alone symbolizes the beauty of strength.

Feelings of inadequacy.

These are quite tricky to admit for any human, especially because we are weighed down by so many expectations on a daily basis. It is tricky to speak on their validity as well. I mean, they are very valid because you feel them deeply, your mind is drenched in these debilitating doubts of self that sometimes the phantom lumps on your throat grow so big you struggle to breathe. Anyways, let me stop before I catch myself crying to a point where I won’t survive getting out of bed in the morning. I don’t have my scheduled break-down session until all these September feels have been exhausted.

Feelings of Loss

Point is, September is a shitty month. It reminds me of loss and fills me with feelings of void. Mzekeliso Cenga would be 15 this year. He drowned while swimming in some river in the EC. We lost a true Prince, I remember when I had just gotten my first job, how he kissed me goodbye when I left for work and how he would massage my feet on my return because the chairs at work were too high so my feet would dangle and end up swollen. Lala ngoxolo Wayise, Donti, Nkulumbela, I still cannot look at any of your pictures without my heart breaking into a million pieces.

#FeelingsOfInadequacy

#FeelingsOfLoss

[thedimplesonmythighs]

I became ‘that girl’ again last night. 

I became that girl again. I went there and came back drenched in insecurities and self-doubt. I felt unlovable, very. Being in his space sometimes has a way of doing that to me.

I became that girl again last night. The girl who has to consistently hound someone for at least an ‘I’m busy’ text, imagine! Maybe I try too hard, I try too hard to be seen in a world that is disease stricken with visual impairment. Or, maybe I forgot my power, or I just placed it in the hands of one who has failed to embrace it. It’s on me this time, though. It’s on me because a few years ago I sat on my bathroom floor took long deep breaths and promised myself never to go back, but I did. At least I did cry this time. I sat on the bathroom floor and cried it all out.

#hurt #bruised

[thedimplesonmythighs]

To the human who embraced me back to life a year ago, love does indeed come in different forms.

People seemed to like asking how we met, it's like they knew how much we liked telling the story. Not one of the best stories I tell you but we are 'experiencers' by nature so we hold each our experiences, no matter how meaningless they may seem, to the highest regard. He would tell of his feels as he caught the sight of this girl in black sitting so comfortably on the cold tiled floor. I loved how he would get into detail of how my hair was bleached blonde on one side and completely black on the other. The movement of his hands as he demonstrates was like a dance that warmed my heart. He remembered the design of the jacket I wore, and my exact posture sitting leaning against the wall. His retarded smile as he tripped through trying to make a conversation. As I pulled my dreaded hair up, his words I still remember. 'You should never let your hair down you see, it hides the beautiful features of your face'. It was the first time he had experienced me, the first time I had experienced him. I thought he just wanted to have coffee but then wet hugs and swimming lessons came. Holding me tight, we stood against the wild waves. Conversations within conversations, the goodbye kisses that we refused to come to full meaning. Next thing John Mayer is singing me to the edge of desire. I had just gotten out of a 5 year relationship and I was shattered, it was just meant to be a rebound, but I fell in love. Maybe it's because he found me in pieces and mended me back to life.

#Lethal

[thedimplesonmythighs]

The last time I fell inlove

But then I remembered, out of the two times in my life that I have fallen in love I had not anticipated it, neither the time nor the person it happened with. I mean, the last time I fell deeply in love all it took was us exclaiming quietly 'damn! that's a good looking booty', an intestines-moving kind of laugh and a quick stare in the eyes, I knew a girl was in too deep. This was after a drunken night in the concrete jungle (code word for Joburg) coupled with deepish conversations about polygamy, failed booty hops, and insanely amazing sex. We were hungover AF waiting for our pizza . We sat looking through the very pale purple glass wall and that's when a white woman in jeans with the most amazing booties I have seen walked by. Then we both simultaneously and quietly exclaimed, 'Damn! That's a good looking booty', just like that, I was in love. This person is the one who embraced me back to life after one of the most calamitous breakups one has experienced. But then he did all of that only not to choose me fully for the duration of our time together, if I can even call that together (lol). Okay, I am posting this using my ex boyfriend's phone and I have had a couple of beers with it. Nope fam, this is not the ex I am talking about here but the ex I dated for 5 years and broke up with 2 years ago. The next post I will tell you about how I met the human who embraced me back to life a year ago.

[thedimplesonmythighs]

If I had any regrets this year, being Superwoman tops the list.

If I were to change anything about myself this year, it would be the feeling that I always have to be superwoman for everyone else but myself because right now I am exhausted to the core. I would stay home at least one weekend and not show up for anyone, I would miss at least one school meeting on a Sunday morning and sleep in, I would not answer when my phone rings and it’s ‘Let him go’, I would ignore texts and not sprint down muddy roads to stop people from getting stabbed. I would not deplete my savings just to make sure life is good for everyone at home, I would pace myself so that I can be able to say no to that refill at the bar, I wouldn’t have to feel the reason to numb myself from all the exhaustion. This year was probably the realest of my adult life, but probably the most important because it taught me that self-care has to be paramount to one’s quality existence. The thing about self-care is that no one is going to hand it to you fam, you have to choose it for yourself, every single morning you have to choose to take care of you the best way you can. 

This must be where my brother failed, self-care, that’s the only reason that makes sense because his self-destructive behavior couldn’t have come anywhere else either than the same pressure I have found myself under the past two years or so. Maybe the universe wanted me to understand where his mind was at because for the longest time I was angry that he chose the path to destruction instead of me when I needed him the most. I understand now, that he was my brother, not my father, it wasn’t his place to parent us while mother is still alive. He was at a point in his life where all he needed to focus on was his life and career but he found himself in a parenting corner, that is just sad. I hope he rests in eternal peace, if that’s a thing, or if he’s resting, even. Anyways, happy holidays fam! Remember: You don’t need to burn yourself out just to keep everyone else around you warm. Self-care is important, or else you might die. 

#selfcare #happyholidays #superwoman #slowdown

[thedimplesonmythighs]

I listened to this song this morning while trying to draw some inspiration so I can write about the last time I fully chose someone. I chose him everyday without fail for about 5 years, I think he chose me, too, I would really like to believe that he did. I would like to believe that he meant it when he told me he loves me, the thing is he lied so much about everything else in his life that I don’t see how he can it be possible that he didn’t lie about this one thing. Anyways, I will spend today listening to music we used to listen to so I can remember how he made me feel despite of all the lies he told. I feel I need to write about it because those were the forming years of my life when it comes to romantic relationships, they have had a huge impact on how I have come to approach these kinds of relationships. 

The last time I fully chose someone is the next post. 

#past relationships #lies #iwasinlove

[thedimplesonmythighs]

I got bit by a Scorpio the other day :/ 

So I got bit by a Scorpio the other day, the sting still got me feeling a lil crazy.

Okay, I don’t know if it’s me or that sounds like some dope ass line from a rap song. Hahaha. Okay, that’s not the point. 

The point is he was just a boy I occasionally had interesting conversations with, I thought he was cute and his stutter made my heart smile. He talked of the future and I would resist when he calls me his Queen. Sometimes he would tease me about my height, small boobs, and chubby cheeks. I liked it how I disappeared into his arms when we hugged, and how his beard will touch my face as he kisses my forehead. The innocence about him must have been one things that consumed my mind, no intoxication or Mary Jane had corrupted his lungs. Remember that say about judges? Yeah, that was his life. He went to church, was in a band and he liked the idea of housewives. So as a strong, independent alpha female who hates religion, I curved him but he didn’t give up. 

Instead he rocked up at my house on a Friday night, I could feel the smirk on his face as he called ‘I am outside your house please come out’. As soon as I stepped out he came too close to my body, his arms around me so warm I swear I almost failed to resist. A word or two later he snatched me by the waist, he pressed his lips against mine followed by a kiss so divine, fireworks in my head for a second or two there then he stopped, got into the car and drove off leaving my night gown covered in his cologne and his hand-band I had no idea how it got into my wrist. 

I guess guy wanted the moment to be commemorated and for the rest of that weekend that is exactly what happened. Guess what he did the whole weekend? He ignored the F outa me, I still have stings in my heart when I think about it. Fast forward, turns out the guy is confused, or he just wants sex but is being very low key about it. Luckily for me I no longer engage in this casual sex thing, I am a grown woman now busy focusing my energy on meaningful experiences.  Plus he is moody AF! Imagine! 

His behavior sort of reminds me of how I was not so long ago, how I would want someone so bad just because they seem to not want me, when they finally give in wholeheartedly I check out and move on to another interesting person.

Anyways, those are my thoughts on a Tuesday, definitely not good living, but yeah. I hope to update this post when I have figured him out.

#scorpio #xhosaguy #whosentyou

[thedimplesonmythighs]

I am bitter AF today

The lights had conveniently gone off just an hour before the shooting, one vivid memory I have is me standing by the door of my mother’s bedroom holding a candle. I waited with my candle at the door and I listened to him heaving through his blood flooded lungs, my main prayer at that moment was that the police and the paramedics do not come through until after his last breath because they might just save him. He might get to live again and all the trauma we had just gone through being held at gunpoint in the dark by strangers will all be in vain. I mean, this was all because of him, the people came and shot him, only him, and left us all alive, the man had put us through enough already, he needed to die.  The good Lord had heard my prayers, for the first time in a very long time, just as the police and ambulance pulled up at home, he took his last breath. I have never been so relieved in my life, literally. It was over, now I could plan the future again, I could be 15 and dream of being an author, a designer, and a talk show host. I could write a 25 year old me a letter and plan dream holidays with my husband and 2 children. I no longer had to miss a day at school so I can take care of my mother because she has been beaten to a pulp. Life was, yet again, full of possibilities.

14 November 2016 marks the 10th year since my Step dad died. I am celebrating! The fucker was so abusive I honestly didn't think I will make it past the age of 15. If I believe in hell, it is probably because it gives me some sort of satisfaction that he might just be burning there.

Does this sound bitter? Yep, because I am bitter AF today for what he put us through. I am bitter that some days in November I sink so low that I feel I have to be grateful that I am alive just because he didn't get kill me.

Either than that, I am okay. One thing I hope for, though, is that all men who are wonderful role models to women in their lives do alert those women that there are terrible men out there. I hope they tell them that when they meet these men they should not try to save them because before they know it they might be so deep that they can't get out. I can hope that we teach our men to treat women better, but the silence of men around this issue just drains me to hopelessness.

#abuse #bitteraf

[thedimplesonmythighs]

I hope my heart doesn’t give up on me in my sleep tonight. I understand why my brother self-destructed.