All in due time… (my love letter to YOU)

By your many names, I am still to call you mine and mine forever. By your many faces, I am still to look at the one etched on my cornea… forever a part of my vision. I have seen the essence of your smile brighten up the darkest of rooms, worn by imitations and distorted refractions of you.

It seems my journey to you has truly begun again. I have recognised you in the many places that I have been in search of you. Whether it was your lingering perfume or the footprint you left in the sand, I have felt your presence though you were not quite there. It’s not easy, my love; holding onto what looks and feels like you only to be shown that my instincts were wrong by the world and myself. Don’t get me wrong, my angel; I am only made more humble knowing that the road to the greatness that is you is lined with the struggles that will affirm my readiness for you, as I am sure your journey is too.

Though I would not wish any pain upon you, if my travels are anything to go by… I know yours is not an easy road either. Part of my sadness is that I cannot hold your hand through it all and tell you that it’s all going to be ok and that we will one day be. I will in no way be the end of your problems; in fact I can guarantee that I will be the cause of a few. At the same time, I can guarantee that my intent is good, and it will pave a road contrary to hell.  

I want to protect you as if you were born from me, the way I know I am both born from you and for you. I know in my heart that you are out there. I can only hope that you believe that I am out there searching for you. I will never be lost knowing I am searching for you. Be strong in your search for me.

 As much as I know that you have already forgiven me for the mistakes I have made and will make, in what will be the past to our future forever, I still bear enough to ask you… please forgive me? I have now done and am done with what can be referred to as the “young man’s way” of finding you; with naivetè and carelessness for my actions and consequences thereof for others.

I am scared too, my baby; scared that my soul will not be able to recognise yours the longer my search goes on. I am scared that my impatience under the guise of eagerness will make me settle for something that isn’t you. I am scared that I have already met you and you have ruled me out without discovering the grown point, my relevant growth point that would make me perfect for you.

I once said in the past that perfection is chased by those who are not satisfied with who they are. I do not stray from my statement. I only move forward with the knowledge that the kind of perfection I seek is one defined by me and me alone. Enveloping all the imperfections that will propel our growth into what we will later describe as exactly what we needed to make it last to the forever we can only hold as “till death do us part”.

My fears, however, are not enough to drain my heart’s energy to carry on. It is because I know and believe that you are out there that fear becomes the police to the actions that keep me from losing you once I have the privilege to call you mine and mine forever.

Time’s relativity coupled with relativity to its end brings me down to the realistic realisation that on my death bed, the idea of you may just be the culmination  of all the destinations I have had the honour of visiting. I need you to know that if that be the case, I am still truly and forever grateful because I have been very fortunate in love, enough to consider myself the luckiest man in this world.

So this letter is to you, my lady. For you to know that you are not alone. You are not alone in the search for that forever somebody. I exist in this realm and all realms that have a need for holistic balance. We exist for each other the way night exists for day, the way right exists for wrong and the way beginnings exist for endings.

By your many names I have not yet had the privilege to call you mine and mine forever. Know that I am because you are. The universe will one day see fit to put us together. For that day I guarantee we will be equipped for everything we need to know to make us last for the forever we can only hold as “till death do us part”.


– Call me Dizzle

Random Shit

Love letter to Mondays

 Today I wanted to take the opportunity to rant about a topic that is very near and dear to my heart. I want to start by saying that what I’m about to share with you almost brings a tear to my eye every time I think about it. I’m pretty sure some of you will be able to relate when I tell you about my utterly unequivocal hatred I have for Monday’s!!

Waking up on a Monday is like… having had the last bite of your favourite chocolate; stuck in the limbo of when next you will indulge; the pause between the question and the answer. It is waking up to the beginning of what makes it necessary to have a weekend.  And for those who might disagree by saying “it’s all in the mind…” my only response to you is simply that; if that holds true for all facets of your life, then I am at your mercy, teach me! If not, then allow me to enjoy for a moment, my blissful ignorance.  

I struggle to see anything good about a Monday other than that there is another weekend on the horizon.

The office environment, especially, can be so morbid that I sometimes find myself only having said “good morning”,  “what’s for lunch” and “goodbye, see you tomorrow”, throughout the entire day. The responses are equally uninspiring. Sometimes, I walk through the office having greeted everyone, and feel like I have done something wrong and am being given the silent treatment. Alternatively I get the soft rumble of random vowels and the head nod. I don’t blame them though, its Monday!!  

(And, personally, unless you are my close friend, my boss or that quiet person at work that kinda looks like is a freak on the weekends, I don’t want to hear about it until Tuesday.)

My hope though, is that one day I will have a new respect for Monday’s.  One day when I have found something were my mind, body and soul meet destiny’s hand and the excitement for a new day is a constant.

But, until that happens I have decided to write you a letter, Monday…


Dear Monday

I hate you! May I never see you walking down the street because I will hurt you! There is no greater feeling then having you behind me. In fact, I wrote this letter to you today because I was so angered and depressed just being a part of you that I wasn’t even productive enough to put pen to paper and express how much you make me sick! Your name sucks! If Sunday and Tuesday were bouncers, they would have your big ass head squeezed between their broad shoulder, denying you entry into the party of the week!!

Your very presence can shut down at least half the night life in Jozi. If I were to ask people that I know to go out when you are here, most of them, with that “eeeuuw” face,  will probably respond,  “on a Monday?!”  


I am writing you this letter because you and I will bump into each other once in a while… in a non random pattern… once a week. So you either come up with something that makes you great or I will find a way to remove you off of every calendar, watch, laptop, phone, diary, book, data collector… EVERYTHING!! Do you understand what I’m saying to you, I WILL ERASE YOU!!!

But look, in all fairness I will do my part for harmonious living. Just don’t fuck it up for me.


Dizzle 🙂


Call me Dizzle


Somebody’s somebody


There was a time I could comb through a crowd of girls with my eyes and only see who they pretend to be, or rather the presentation and not the gift. When I say that what I mean is, for most of the day you are not seeing them in their rawest form, like in their pj’s or with that just-woke-up look. by the time a woman is ready to present herself to the world, you are being shown exactly what she wants you to see.

For instance, those dresses with draped fabric over the tummy that arches back up just before the naval, so that your focus is on her cleavage and not her cleverly concealed muffin top.  Or the press on nails that makes their fingers feel tingly and cool when they fan their nails against a desk or table making that acrylic tap sound. The high heels that flex the calve muscle and elongates the silhouette.  And who can forget the weave! Oh how the weave has become a girl’s best friend. Diamonds are probably feeling so jealous right about now. And how about the lip stuff (gloss, liners, lipstick, etc) that can transform the most regular of lips into an invite to Angelina Jolie’s mouth.

Wow women are beautiful… *cough* anyway…

Like I was saying, until recently I think my vision was blurred by the trickery, smoke and mirrors. And there is also the programmed shallow response I have to what is considered beautiful and what isn’t. I have a fresh set of eyes ladies and gentlemen, and they came at the very high cost associated with learning. Lets jus say that some lessons only need to be learnt once and the mistake never to be repeated, EVER!!!

All I see now is the unique features that make them who they are. Like a smile that would drive some lucky guy so bananas that there is actually an allocated number of hours in the day dedicated to making it happen again and again and again. Then there is the way girls move on the dance floor and how some guy out there would have the perfect rhythm for her beat, even if it’s not synchronise, it could be playful, clumsy, cute. And she would absolutely adore him for it!! If a girl likes to cuddle when they sleep, there is a guy out there whose sleeping experience is made better with his arm around her, and made worse without her.  Then you get the girls, whose curves take the more scenic route around their body, meandering with grace and confidence.  There is a guy out there whose height, arm length and size are just the right fit that when he hugs her in full embrace, makes her feel like she is a little out of breath, vulnerable and at the same time safe; never wanting to be let go.

My point is there are some things we shouldn’t have  in life, not that we should limit ourselves but i think that by some cosmic decree some things are actually not ours to have.  But I guess sometimes it’s that tinge of jealousy that we sometimes mistake for attraction that is the driving force behind our own greed.  And I say jealousy purposely; for instance have you ever noticed how guys can look at a super hot girl, then see the regular guy she is dating, start hating and tell themselves that if that’s the case then they had a chance, not realising how far  they are from the truth.

I look at women, marvel at their beauty, and remember why my heart stopped when I first saw the woman in my life! How NO MATTER WHAT, I needed to be in her space, making my presence felt.  How she still makes me a little nervous when I haven’t seen her for more than a week.  Or how holding her hand when we walk gives me the reassurance that I will always have someone beside me and at the same time giving her the reassurance that she will always have somebody beside her. She became MY somebody! And I became hers!

The next time you are scanning a room full of girls, keep in the back of your mind that that sexy girl in the bright green leggings and purple figure-hugging short dress may have already found somebody and doesn’t need you to add confusion and distraction to the equation. She is somebody’s somebody! And when you come across yours, you will know!!!

Call me Dizzle