Forgive me Father, for i have sinned. 

Forgive me Father, for i have sinned…

That is all i could say. That is all i managed to pray. Forgiveness. Did i deserve it? I wondered….

I had arrived early at church, with my man in hand ofcourse. You know what they say about couples who pray together and what note. This was our routine every sunday we would visit mass at 1830 followed by a dinner date and whatever else tickles our fancy.

Today was one of those days, mass and an early dinner because of exams, what could go wrong?

We settled on our usual place, last bench on the left aisle him on my left side, i on his right. Then went out to shuffle the hymn books to look for English text. I felt a tap on my neck, nigga better not be playing with my pressure points in this holy church i turn around and face HIM. Oh wow, not the him i was expecting. Another him. A him i shouldn't be bumping into in our lady of the rosary Church! I realise he is waiting for me to wave back, and i do so awkwardly. He walks away to find somewhere to sit. I face my man to see if he sensed the sexual tension that reeked in our brief exchange with HIM (lets call him D) but he gives nothing away.


My mind cannot help but go there.  I look at HIM, or rather his backview as he decided to sit 6 benches in front of us. I now have, not one but two men who have seen me naked in this holy catholic church. As if praying besides someone i plan to sin with later is not shameful enough for my conscience. Wow i am a sinner. 

We shouldn't be in the same church considering the ridiculous amount of coitus we have had, i miss squeezing his butt.  He is not handsome like my man next to me but there is something about a man who has nothing to offer except dick. I am in church, i shouldn't be having such ungodly thoughts. Its been a long while since we stopped, to my surprise we are somewhat friends now we can sit and talk, laugh, even give each other relationship advice but it never crossed my mind that we would bump into each other in this church.

The priest enters.

Priest: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. 

Now i can focus on something else other that my sinfullness.

Priest: Brothers and sisters, let us acknowledge our sins, and so prepare ourselves to celebrate the sacred mysteries.

Me, sincerely:

 I confess to almighty God and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have greatly sinned, in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and in what I have failed to do, through my fault, through my fault,through my most grievous fault; therefore I ask blessed Mary ever-Virgin, all the Angels and Saints, and you, my brothers and sisters, to pray for me to the Lord our God.

I feel slightly better. He is a God of forgiveness after all. Lord have mercy, glory, liturgy of the word and i have regained my sanity just before the first reading. Late comers start trickling in.

Enter Collins.

At this time i am shook, i actually laugh out loud. What is the universe trying to tell me? That i am a ho? Okay okay i get it. As luck would have it he chooses to sit right in front of me where i can see him. I look at my man besides me, oblivious of the comedy that is going on he is focused on the word. He looks back at me and squeezes my hand, i kind of needed that. Collins is the guy i dated before my man here, while i was sleeping with HIM. I did not engage in sexual relations with Collins as i was already getting it elsewere so i claimed i was celibate for the first two months or so then i started being actually celibate and he got fed up of waiting and he said he needed a break. I said okay. And yet here i was, in less than two months obviously cosying up with another man reeking of sexual nourishment. 

What a mess.

When i come to, it is almost time for communion. While giving each other the sign of peace Collins winks at me, i hope the boyfriend did not see that. In an unrelated matter Collins has such a gorgeous smile, one that would melt a witch's coochie. I say out the prayer as genuinely as i can, i truly mean it:

Lord, i am not worthy to receive you but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.

I go and receive communion nonetheless after all this is the chalice of his blood, the blood of the new and everlasting covenant which was poured out for me and for many for the forgiveness of sins. As i walk back from receiving the body of christ i bump into HIM as he is coming also from the alter, i avoid all eye contact as i am at the brink of bursting out in laughter at this ridiculousity that i call my life.

The rest of the mass goes by so fast i am too shook to ask Mary who is full of grace to even pray for me now. And when all is over i walk towards the door, dip my finger in holy water and all i can think of is:

Forgive me father, for i have sinned.


Chapter 4: Untitled

I just want stable dick tbh.

I love sex, yes

I miss it, also yes

Do i want to commit, no

Men do it all the time so whats the problem now? V.B has been acting up, i don’t know if its the fact that i won’t commit thats making him trip up or what. I do not want drama all i want is stable dick, i repeat all i want is stable dick. Endless supply of regular dick please. His. I wouldn’t go around because

a) He knows how to throw it in all the right directions

b) Communicable diseases are real, like i can’t. I have to be faithful to one sexual patner and i chose him so what’s the problem now??

You see sex shouldn’t be this complicated, i don’t like to be stressed not now and hopefully not ever. I check my phone to see if he is online. He hasn’t been over at my place for two weeks now, is it time to move on to greener ummm…okay no. I blame his friends and mine both with their why won’t you commit to a guy who loves you questions asking all them questions trying to make me feel weird about my life choices. His friends think i am just like Oliver Twist i like more and more porridge, my friends think im just scared to get hurt. Honestly both of them maybe close to home but i don’t think its weird that i do not wish to commit to anything solid at this given time. 


Okay, if i have to feign commitment to get it so be it. I hate it but well i guess it is time to have “the talk” and yes it did not go we as you already expected. First of all his friends were wrong because this person also wants to enjoy only. Ouch. The embarrasment. Ofcourse my girl-ego was bruised, its one thing for me to want to just sex you up only, its another thing for you to not want to commit either. I sulked for a few days, got over it when i realised actually this is not complicated. This is perfect, we both want the same thing in life, stable fucking sex!

Then he started acting up, making me feel like its weird to like sex please it was invented to be had. Eve’s greatest gift to humans. It shouldn’t be complicated ffs, love must be not sex ah ah. Wam bam bam!! I like him, i truly do but mine is not to like. Mine is to ignore the fact that he tells all his friends (also mine) about us and what he feels yet he can’t tell me just like i can’t tell him to his face that i check if he is online all the damn time, i notice if he is moody, i stalk his instagram page, i feel mushy when they say his name and i am the happiest girl alive whenever he walks through the door, i am happy when he showing signs of green upon hearing i am drinking up with some mens…nah. Mine is to focus on his mad dick skills. Only. 

I know he likes me

I know i likes me too.

But right now?

 Right now i just want stable dick only

The end.

Diary Of Feeling Station: The closing of that chapter



Trust is such a fragile thing, too hard to build once lost. Soon as i saw those messages asking some other girl to smash, i would double question myself if he said he couldnt make it to see me id get paranoid. Id push him away to see if he would pull me to him, id get moody to see if he still cared. Which was tiring for him also i suppose sucj that one fine day when i asked him a trick question and he answered wrongly i told him it was over, and it was. I remember it was friday and i was pissed af shem, spent the whole day saturday fat with rage and on sunday during mass they talked about everlasting love and forgiveness i couldnt get out of the service fast enough, i called Sebastian to come meet me by St Kilda he resisted at first but i told him it wouldnt take long since he was studying.

As i walked towards the street, i felt anxious and happy that i had come to my senses in time, except i had’nt. He told me breaking up was for the best actually he was a time in his career that didn’t allow him the luxury of a nagging girl 😩😩 and that i deserved better :'(:'(!! He took me back to school and kissed me on the forehead and said he would check on me in the afternoon to see if im okay since i had shed a few tears.
He didnt show up.
He didnt answer my texts.
He didnt pick up his phone when i called.
I slept sore that night, and by 6 am i was hearded to his street to understand what the actual fuck he was doing. I sat by the street post waiting for him to walk towards the busstop so i could verbally attack him but he didnt show up. So i walked towards his gate and knocked and the gardener told me to wait, then he comes back 5 minutes later and says Sebastian haapo. TF you mean?? Why would you make me wait then?? I do this all the time if i dont wanna be bothered so you cant trick me fam, i shall wait for fucking Sebastian by the gate!! And 10 minutes later it was the man himself in the flesh asking me what the fuck i was doing. I asked why he didnt show up and you said we broke up so he aint gotta come to see me for shit 😱😱. And that i was wasting his time since i had called him childish he actually wanted to hit on some Mt Pleasant High student while i was there trying to liase him back into a relationship. I stood there didnt say shit. After a while he said let me take to school and we will talk about it on the phone and since it was exam time we had to take it slow and focus on our exams and he would come see me in the evening. Even whispered he loved me before we parted all was good i got in time for breakfast and i was smiles. I studied for the whole day and come evening im chilled with Rose waiting for a “Im outside, jump out.” text. It was around 8 when i finally texted:

Me: Where are you?
Sebastian: Leave my man alone, you had your chance and wasted it bitch. He told me you have been bothering him.
Me: Oh im sorry, i had no idea.
Five minutes later on Rose’s phone
Sebastian: Tell T to stop texting me.

I told myself i was done chasing after him and focused on my exams but a week later i found myselfmoving into a place by Groombridge road systematically situated such that we would share a busstop at times. I was on my attachment now and i needed to, we would bump into each other at times and i waited patiently for his exams to be over before attacking. Imagine when another friend of mine who stayed in The Chase met him and he bluntly told her to tell me to stop waiting. I started moving on, soon as i did he paid me a visit and we coited. Pathetic me thought it meant we were back together but the next day he took my housemate out for pizza 😩😩. I had to get over him quick fast despite the texts, calls, emails of me pouring my heart out HE WAS NO LONGER INTERESTED,period! I stopped trying, next thing you know he was trynna call me texting me were i was. Aha, the key was to be unavailable so i didnt text him for a while until the day i told him i needed the sex after a full day of hunting houses with sister Melo tikapotsa tarumwa nembwa 😂😂😂. I went there, received the sex, refused food afterwards, said thank you and left- refused to be taken to my place even. Nothing, he was confused. I wasnt anymore, he continued texting me asking why i had changed i texted back:
I am done chasing after you and i am  going to get over you. I wish you a happy life.
And with that i blocked his contact, and started on my jeorney to picking up the pieces after four gruelling months. A nigga tried calling me on my birthday and told him to fuck off and delete my number and i never saw him again until….story for another day

Il stop here for now.

Diary of Feeling Station: The beggining of the end


Oh its been long dear diary. Because oh well…but anyway. Were was i? Finally got the cherry popped in an uneventful occasion tho sometime maybe because we had so many rehearsals. The guy tried so hard to make me feel special after and that was very appreciated. We had in spaced intervald of time because we didnt have a set place for it, he stayed with his evil step-siblings while i was in a no interhostel visits typa setting in school. Also his work schedule was tight af and we were being good kids. We would sit outside by the benches whenever he came to visit or take a walk to groombridge. The only problem tho was boify was paranoid af, he would go through my texts, would show up at 6am to see if i had slept at school like i had said i would. It was sweet at first but it soon became creepy he even cried a lirru while going through my phone. I still remember this day he was going through my phone while i was getting for a walk and i come back bae all teary eyed asking me who Kuziva is and why did he give me a massage.

See Kuz was this friend of mine, pure ass friendship people still think we dated but nah ah. We didnt posses such feelings for each each. Kuz’s mum had skipped the country leaving him to share an apartment with his never-really-there brother. He wasnt going to uni cause he did not know what he wanted qith life and id visit him every wednesday around 1pm, we would pick out ingredients at Letombo spar, he would cook while i watched a movie, we would eat while he complained about his life and i would make him talk about the root pf the issue. Then he would take to the busstop around 6 and that was that till next wednesday. So this particular day i had sprained my ankle just as i dropped off by Letombo and he saw it helped me home and gave me a massage- a medical message. And bae read a ” Thanx for the massage” text and got really hurt big time i teied to explain it to him but he was too teary to understand. I stopped going to Kuz everyweek, he started feeling like i was giving up on helping him out as my friend because of a boy 😦😦. Anyhoo well it had to be done. I didnt go through Seb’s phone like ever until this one day…..

On Good Friday we went out, me and the girls – and some strangers. See we were at Belgravia shopping ciders for Flu’ birthday chill and theae niggas insisted on paying for our stuff. May the record show that we refused but they insisted on paying and giving us a ride back which turned into sadza rekuhuku. You know that sadza is my weakness so i went along because im a loverer of things. Also these guys were two and we were three meaning i could exempt myself from coupling giving me time to text bae all night. He was apparently supposed to join us but shit happened. Anyway after drinks, sadza and dancing to Kukere (first time i ever heard it), we were supposed to head back to campus but nigga already driving to blue lagoon guess they thought they had caught themselves some hoz. Nah ah son, soon as we got there we refused to get arra the car, we weren’t spending the night in that place. They finally gave in and drove us back to Mount Pleseant thats all i recall till 5 am when i up in the chapel. Like wtf??? Who gets that turnt?? Went up to my room in my sleepy drunken stupor and tried to sleep. It wasnt long till i got the come downstairs call, man i really slept at school though 😵😵😫. I went, he got relieved but still he had to do a chat audit so i sat there while i listened to music on his phone, got bored and went through his WA for the first time. All went well till i read his chat with some girl asking for her to find him someone to kobo, in fact her first. “MAN WHAT THA ACTUAL FUCK????!!”
So i just gave him back his phone chat up and left him there, skipped out of town for easter. He texted with a lot and looot of excuses, i was just playing bla bla. After a full weekend of contemplating me and me2.0 decided the son of a bitch can go get pussy for all we care and we are done with him but we had to do it face to fucken face. I met him the following day and told him to just lets stop dating and i walked away. It was over! So imagine my surprise when his sister called an hour later and told me to go to the lobby and give a nigga a chance to explain. Me being mushy i went, and gave a nigga another chance because back then i was such a naive and stupid human.

Il stop for now.

Vera loves me in the name of the Lord

Let me not sugar coat it, im a call centre agent at a consulting company. On an average i speak to about 500 people per day and i get to talk to cold people, sweet sounding people, adamant people and really pissed off British people. I have never heard so many swear words in my life as i have since i started working here. I talk to soo many people by the time i hop on to the next call i would have forgotten what the conversation i just had was all about.

A very few people i have spoken to stand out tho. Like that guy who gave me pointers of how i should have approached the call if i wanted to go get leads. Or that person who talked about going to switzerland just to collect wine, what nice life huh. Oh did i tell you he said he own a yacht too? Or that Nigerian man who just boomed, “You sound like a fine girl, fine everywhere!” ah like bruh?? But? Okay side eye. Oh oh, and an Indian last week who said to me, “I dont need a loan, what i need is a fourth wife. Do you want to be my fourth wife?” Oh no, thank you i most certainly do not want that.
But none of these interesting conversations touched me the way i was touched by Vera.

Vera sounded all bubbly from hello, she definately had no finances but it was her cheerfulness that kept me on the phone with her. In less than a minute she was telling me that she raised her brothers single handedly because her parents were no more and she took out a mortgadge at 21 which she paid out at 38. The winning part? She was still single. So there is still hope yal, except she is white and had no parents pressurizing her into marriage. So i asked her why she wasnt married at that age, and she said she wanted to focus on helping people, generousity, and giving herself dedicating herself onto the works of the Lord. She added on that she was Roman Catholic
“Like a nun?” I asked.
“No, like an evangelist. I like spreading the word of the Lord and i didnt want any male relations to ruin that. I then got married to my late husband now, at 44. He was disabled and had the same beliefs, shared the same passion in the Lord that i had which mad me so happy.”
I assumed that means they never did it, so i asked, “Did you guys have kids?”
“No, but i had stepchildren. You know what i dont know you or your name but I LOVE YOU. I really do. I love you in the name of the Lord. Are you a beliver, which church do you go to?”
I told her i was a catholic too, and she cried with joy and i could feel the thawing that was experiencing. Maybe its because i like catholics or was it that she was so cheerful itwas hard not to mirror it or it could have been the fact that i haven’t been told im loved in a minute. I definatley loved her too, she had an aura of peace and happiness i needed that. She asked my name and i told her im Tatenda.
“I have written that down, when i go for mass on Friday i shall pray for you Tatenda. I will pray for you and your family”
“Thank you,” I said, ” Let me get back to work before my boss chops off my head.”
As i was about to hang up i heard her screaming God bless you, God bless you Tatenda!!
It was touching, i felt a lot a peace after that as i went on to dial more swearing clients. Funny how I made that call hoping to get a lead, to get more points in my bag but i hung up with peace instead. Its a priceless feeling trust me!

Diary of Feeling Station: Oh hail, her Hymenness

It wasnt as hard as we thought it would be, the transition from BFF to BF was smooth since he was already overprotective of me. We spent the spare time we had together. I didnt expect much from him only that he show up if he said he would. He was a gentleman, we would just hang out in the open and make out only when necessary he didnt pressure me at all even tho i knew he wasnt one.
The day one of my homies lost her virginity i was traumatised. We, the four of us, had pledged to keep our hymen untouched until agreed otherwise. Not necesarilly marriage but perhaps after college. One day she went to the library and came back without it and i was furious didnt speak to her for days. How dare she has sex! People dont accidentaly have sex oh why would she just. How it happened was a funny story actualy. One minute she is starting then she sees a dark mysterious sexy thing and she is caught looking. Embarrased she goes outside and he follows her, takes her number links up with her for drinks later and bla bla bla. Later on at his apartment assumes she is not a virgin and just invites himself into her vagina. Tragic. For me ofcourse. That guy deserved to be locked up for rape how do you just assume that someone is not a virgin and ram your parts into someone with no warning or invitation but she said she had led him on so telling on him doesnt feel right. I got over it two weeks after it was my 1/4 of my hymen after all so allow me to grieve for it and i protected mine with swords and shields.

So i was scared of sex because:
1) it changed people
2) it hurt a lot, even tho his body was filled with sexual promises, i just couldnt handle the physical pain. Someone had told me it was period pain squared.
3) i had seen boys brag about devirginising girls like it was some sort of trophy and i wasnt ready to give anyone that sorta power over me
4) My mum used to ask me “Are you still a virgin” and i didnt wanna have to lie to her some day.
5) The whole being attatched to someone shit, i wasnt ready for. When you are a virgin you can just up and leave anytime you feel its not firing no pressure. But when the person has been in your insides a bond is created, and even if you wanted you cant up and leave because there comes a point in time were you just see your body count going kumawere and you are just like fix it Jesus!!

So i stayed pure and untouched. Id worry at that if you not giving it to him he will get it somewere else b/s. Then id think but if he is that stupid then maybe just maybe he is not worth it. If he was, it wasnt showing he didnt pester me for it he was grateful for what he could get. I felt like i had to reward him somehow, a real blow job as in if you suck it swallow. So i planned the whole date we went to Khazakstan (my weed spot) and i tried but i ended up throwing up on him because well my gag reflex is a killjoy. I felt so bad for the guy i mean he was gentleman alright and he deserved the cookie alright. So i told him i was ready to which he spent the rest of the week cross examining me he just couldnt believe it. When he finally tried i couldnt the pain was unbearable, excruciatingly  painful. I couldnt, i told him to stop and he did immediately. It was during exams i didnt need this. So we got dressed and he took me back to school. I promised myself one day when i get over my fear he shall have the kingdom.

Study hard, they said..


I have never had soo many feelings in one day

Study hard, they said so you can be successful. So i did. Not everyday like most of the book worms out there but i really did study a whole lot every last week before exams. And i did pass, stage by stage. At times i would surprised at the results like eh i didnt actually think i would pass or get these so many points and yet i did. I knew that books before boys mantra by heart i was its cheerleader i only started knowing boys in college. My mum always said your certificates are your first husbands dzidza uzviitire twunhu twako mwanangu and i obliged. College was cake, all my exams were passes even statistics. LOL, me who does not have O Level math passed university statistics?? Wow! Clearly it was God himself writing those exams for me in the Great Hall. My internship was cream except i wasnt getting salary, but i didnt mind the land of huchi and steri was waiting for me at the other side of my graduation gown, yes i was graduating with my honours at 21.

But alas, after i took off that gown reality sunk in. Application after application i got nothing. I didnt even have a graduation party because whats a degree without a job? A mere certificate like that one they gave me at Madhatter Nursery School. Whats there to celebrate?? I looked high and low for that job, the one i dreamt of all my life. I gave up on the whole being in an office dream i started throwing CVs at bakers inn and other blue collar jobs. Lol at one time i even applied to be a water tank guard and they said i was too qualified. I started to remove some certificates depending on the vacancy i was sometimes an O level drop out, or just A level sometimes just my grade 7 but to fucken avail.

I gave up, i didnt want a flashy job. I wasnt singing Killer T’s ndavakudawo zvese zvandairota ndave kudawo imba yangu nemota. I wanted something that would sustain me, something that would provide for me and i would be content. I wanted to work for myself. I wanted to be dependant on no one except my damn self. In my grandfather’s words i was not a destitute. The few males who gave my search attention offered me jobs which came with other descriptions. I wasnt going to whore myself to be employed. Whats the point of having a good job, and AIDS?? No i wasnt going to be that girl. It killed me most to see my mom, knowing fully that paying my hefty fees was not a piece of cake only for me to be idle for months. I knew it would bring her joy to see me fending for myself like a baby kangaroo learning how to walk by itself.

I finally got a job. January 1 2015 i was called in for an interview. New year, new blessings i said. The boss was a woman so there were no sexual connotations. After a week of checking up on her i finally got the job. I cried when i told my mum, she was happy for me. I started work, it was hard but i soon adapted to the crazy working hours. To the crazy clients who would shout, curs and hurl abuse in my ears. And i dont blame them, who would like it if cold callers called you every single day talking about PPI? People came and went based on perfomance and i made sure i excelled. I was grateful for the job, i was content with the peanuts. I was taking care of myself my parents didnt need to worry about me anymore, i could even afford to get them gifts on special days, get my brother credit if need be, give my sister pocket and have drinks with friends. I wasnt rich, i was content. I was happy. My mum said i shouldnt be content, i should aim higher. Higher where? I asked, we are in Zimbabwe please point me were higher is. She works in the Ministry of Education office, i could get a teaching job she insisted on it. I couldnt, i wouldnt. I dont have it in me to teach, i dont have the patience. Even tho the pay was a smudge higher that i was getting i couldnt, i dont want to be a teacher. I dont want to work in a call center but i dont mind, teaching now i mind a lot. We argued a lot, she said things i walked out. She called to apologise i told her i knew she meant well but id rather have her support and love in this phase were im tryna find my feet. She understood, we made up i love my mum she kept on bringing it up time and time again especially when this girl bought a car with her teaching money i said she is her i am me, whats a car i dont even have a driver’s licence. She finally laid the teaching offer to rest, i continued with my job. Everyday we had a new pitch, everyday we would revise how to pitch but i adapted. We changed campaigns, i had the highest accepts. They started a point system i was the highest i had to be good at what i was doing, whatever it was. I got a bonus last month for having 2859 points. I was making it. Then on monday i forgot to ask a pertinent question on my pitch and yesterday i was told to go until further notice. My mind has been in overdrive ever since

Thoughts im having
* What does go until further notice mean?? Does it mean im fired or im suspended
* Had i become too comfortable as a call agent is this God’s way of telling me to look for another job, a real job
* Should i have taken my mum’s offer irregardless of my hatred for the job because we are born to toil and slave for our survival until the day i die. But no, and i cant tell mum about my depression right now because inevitably she will say or think but “i told you so”. Also i cant move back home because we would murder each other to death
* Is this a blessing in disguise? Am i meant to be doing something else with my life, something big use my oil and my talents. But what talent do i have, other people can bake, some can craft others can plait. Even if i wanted to do the whole buying and selling, what is in demand right now? Everyone is a vendor all the start up ideas have been taken. What do i have? What can i do?? Who the fuck am i??
* Was i lying to myself when i dreamt of a world were i can take care of myself, just me. Was i supposed to be like the other girls who use their sexuality to get a job and suck some old man’s until powdered cumm comes out just to get aheard in life?? Why did they teach us to be workers from grade one and not enteprenuers? What do you wanna be when you grow up they asked first day of school. Doctor, nurse, pilot all of which are under someone. Why didnt cultivate our individual strengths, id do good in media so why was i doing freaking biology in high school?? Damn you mission school!! Damn you Zimbabwe!
* I could go for masters, im only 22 all is not lost. But that would depending on them again, my poor parents. They already have another kid in college and another in high school and fees these days (inserts Jacob Zuma meme) = kuroora. Going for masters means them paying again. I thought i was gonna send myself to masters one day, online or block while working. Education is life but what is life when i cant get a job with a first degree what makes me think for one second i can get a job after masters? Huh? Its so funny. Also these job applications will be saying nywe nywe nywe minimum of 5 years of experience. Just were exactly do you think i can get such experience in this my zimbabwe??
*#sigh, now i know why people turn into alcoholics, right now the idea of just downing a whole bottle of whiskey is very attractive. Even if this is a suspension and they call me back, even if i go back there id be under scrutiny there is no room for mistakes and im human i cant promise not to mess up in little ways. I could hunt for a job i have been there it tool me some time and i found it. Maybe if i did the same this time and put my every move into seeking employment il get it. Lol. Fuck my life
* I could skip the country and try for greener pastures because even though im all up for national pride the pastures have since dried up in this my country. Maybe i need to go to another paddock, SA or Namibia. But, what if i fail to get a job and end up a squatter and someone’s sex slave just to get by. AIDS, abuse, rape, and i wouldnt be able to come back because id have run away from home i know they wouldnt allow me willingly to do that.

Its nice to see i still have my humour irregardless of my depression.