On St. Jude

<<please note that the teenager that wrote this is not very sure what’s been happening in her head, and she just wanted to share this with some people. she’s having a nasty existential crisis. n-a-s-t-y.>>

the patron saint of the lost causes

Aloha amigos! I’ve been missing for a while, in and out of rooms I shouldn’t have been in, discovered a hatred for eating yoghurt at school, I’ve been crying a lot and crawling through the last two weeks of the first quarter of matric (IT’S ALMOST OVER) – I’ve been being extremely regular and there is no problem with that.

(pah. that was a lie. i have been very not regular.)

In any case, several things have happened since I last posted something.I don’t even know what that was. What I’m saying is that I have something new to say.

I’ve felt very lost recently. It could be because I’ve been reading too much Sartre and not moving enough, but it could also be because I really am lost. South African universities opened applications for 2016 weeks ago, and I’m yet to take action. I’m too scared. Yes, I know I’m a wimp, that’s why I admitted it, but what I’, saying is that I’ve been crawling and crying and breaking things because I feel like a lost cause.

This brings me to beautiful things that assist on not so beautiful days. Florence and the Machine recently released two of the videos and singles from the upcoming album, How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful (available for pre order here). What Kind of Man is brilliant, but at this time, I’d like to bring your attention to another song: St Jude.

Some of these lyrics have hit me quite hard. I was crying again a couple of minutes ago.

And I’m learning, so I’m leaving
And even though I’m grieving
I’m trying to find the meaning
Letting loss reveal it
Letting loss reveal it

“Yes, but WHAT are you getting so emotional about?”

St. Jude, the patron saint of the lost causes
St. Jude, we were lost before she started
St. Jude, we lay in bed as she whipped around us
St. Jude, maybe I’ve always been more comfortable in chaos

St. Jude is the Patron Saint of Hope and impossible causes. I feel like I am the conversation without a destination, I am another lost battle, I am both sides that are losing, and that’s why nobody cares who fired the gun. I am…what am I?

A lost, impossible cause. I don’t know what it is that I’m grieving for, but I feel as if I’m in mourning, and perhaps, as Lady Welch says, loss will reveal meaning.

And there’s this big storm that surrounds us and we’re in the middle of it
It’s calm but I can feel it, like it’s everywhere.

love and light,

there are so many things a new year can possibly bring.

that being said, a new minute can also bring hope; a new day inspiration, a new week depression. new years are supposed to bring joy, prosperity, and excitedness.

friends, i am excited.

there is so much of this world, so much in it, too. this year, i’ll be throwing so much out into the world. at least 40 pages of applications to universities (11 so far) will go out across the world – to the uk, the usa, and south africa. everything that you write your name on is a piece of you, you know.

i’m going to be in my final year of high school. well, i am. i am in my final year and i’m going to have to work harder than i ever have before. i’m going to do a lot of head shaking and nay saying. i’m going to have to look out for myself.

on that note, without further ado:

shalom’s points for 2015, vol. one

+ drink more water. just do it.
+ laugh genuinely.
+ work for yourself.
+ remember that the world is still yours.

+ slow down.
+run. just run and when you’re tired, come home. but run if you need to run.
+ be self sufficient.
+ save R1000. without any help.
+keep lib balm on call.
+light candles whenever.
+remember to put on lotion!
+take care of your hair.
+do your  maths homework.
+ask for help.
+ take your medication when you need to.
+talk to people before you get bad again.
+talk to people because they’re lovely.
+  do your part to make your dreams reality.
+remain hopeful.
+wear more arm candy.
+stop apologising for your existence and preferences.
+be lovely and kind.

thank you for a beautiful blogging year of 2014. i can’t wait to see what this year brings, and i’m sending lots of nice things your way. *super brain transfer*

So speak of all the love we lost, and what it cost us,
Left us beg our breath to stop but we kept on and
We were strong. We stayed bright as lightning,
we sang loud as thunder, we moved ever forward.
We are not our failures. We are love.

The Castle Builders, La Dispute

love and light,


Some disclaimers:

1. I am female.

2. I write from whatever perspective I want.

3. I am not actually a boy named Adam.


I’m very lucky. Her name is Jenifer and she uses strawberry scented shampoo.

I like to go on walks with her – she likes to walk. I usually hate being alone but I love being alone with her. I don’t know if that makes any sense – I tend to lose most of my sense when I’m with her. She’s like a drug, I guess. I feel like I’m on every drug in the solar system when I’m just standing next to her, and holding her hand usually sends me into a neighbouring universe. Heaven knows that she’s not out of this world, but she must be something special.

We’re both so ordinary, actually. I don’t know why. We both tried to be different at one stage; she got a piercing and I stopped wearing a belt on my jeans. It didn’t work, for me at least. She still has her piercing. It’s beautiful, like every other part of her. The whole of her is so, so beautiful.

They say that you don’t forget your first kiss. I think that’s a lie. I forgot mine. I think it was in a movie cinema and horrible. I do remember kissing her, though. She was holding my hand and I thought I was going to fly away. I liked her, and she liked me, and we both knew. We were sat on a carpet in her living room, and I couldn’t think clearly. It made sense. She was in front of me. Jenifer. What else was there to think of?

Between the skin on her hands and wrists and the voice that she had, I don’t know which was smoother. She looked at me very closely, and I thought I’d screwed up, but instead, she laughed. She laughed her beautiful Jenifer laugh, and tried to cover her face with the hand that was intertwined with mine. “I like you, Adam.” I forgot how to speak, as expected. She laughed more and I replied, “I know,”.

And then, it was like everything that I thought was good and right in the world was in front of me. I was taken by the smell of strawberries that wafted towards me, and the feel of her hair between my fingers. She laughed, and kissed me. By the time her lips touched mine, and I felt the muscles in her face work towards a small nervous smile, I was so far gone into a world where only her and I existed. Adam and Jenifer world. Full of kisses and strawberry shampoo and hand holding. I smiled, at a loss for words, and she giggled, and we both laughed more than we had in weeks. We lay on the carpet, close to the TV. There, with her head on my chest and my hand running through her hair, I asked myself why I was in the situation I was in, where she had come from, how she was so beautiful. I couldn’t answer myself. I figured I was lucky.

As my mom came around to pick me up, she skipped beside me as I walked to the car.

“I know, ” she whispered, as she kissed me on the cheek. I didn’t know how it could have happened. I didn’t get it. I couldn’t make sense of it. Then again, it may have just been a Jenifer effect.

“I like you, Jenifer,” I said. Then, I got into the car while she greeted my mom.

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips,

We should just kiss like real people do.


Love and light,
Shalom X

Bulletproof (can this even be a title?)

My math exam is tomorrow, and the first bout of tears and panic has already occurred.

It’s a funny thing how things so little can affect one so much. I couldn’t drink my tea or eat my dinner – all because I went into a raving panic attack stemming from the lack of warm water at my house.

Sounds pathetic, right?

I know it does. Let me assure you that it feels even more pathetic to be the one experiencing it. It’s like a feeling of extreme stupidity and sadness in one go.

Today, though, I got lucky. I had a friend send me some beautiful help involving some visualisation and Emma Watson and beaches and Paris. I can’t really explain how it feels to have someone do their best to help you while they know that they don’t know exactly how you’re feeling. It’s so lovely, like they have complete comprehension without actually having it?

I’m feeling the feels, friends.

I’m going to do revision now, and while I may fail my math exam, I know that I’ll still have this to come back to. It ‘s just the future, bruh. In the words of my heroes:

The future is bulletproof, the aftermath is secondary. It’s time to do it now and do it loud: Killjoys, make some noise!

That’s all I’ve got today. I think.
Love & Gratitude,
Scoot X

Scoot on ~ this jealousy, man.

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about why I feel the way I do, and how ridiculous some of the reasons are.Today, a friend of mine finally asked out a girl. They were both really happy, and everyone who was nearby was also really happy, and I was really happy for them both, and I stayed behind with her so she could fawn over teenage girl things with me, and it was lovely. I was really glad to know that she was glad.

Problem? No problem!

Except this conclusion that I’ve come to: I’m jealous of everything.

You have a cat? I’m jealous.

You get a good math grade? I’m jealous.

You find a good study system? Still jealous.

You in love with a boy? Very jealous.

It is said that jealousy is the human condition, and more so that of the teenager.

“If you swim effortlessly in the deep oceans, ride the waves to and from the shore, if you can breathe under water and dine on the deep treasures of the seas; mark my words, those who dwell on the rocks carrying nets will try to reel you into their catch. The last thing they want is for you to thrive in your habitat because they stand in their atmosphere where they beg and gasp for some air.”

Am I trying to sabotage everyone with a cute cat and a brilliant math grade? No. Am I trying to kill/injure/ruin/negatively influence the boy you’re in love with? No. I suppose it’s more of a longing than jealousy, because heaven knows I’M LONGING FOR A GOOD STUDY SYSTEM.

I don’t know, I’m trying to stay felony free and not do anything illegal because of longing. Am I Miss-Steal-Your-Boy? Maybe. (NO I’M NOT)

Remain sane,

-Scoot xx


July 20th 2014

Please put up with this and I’m sorry if it disappoints you.


Listening to: Little Black Submarines by The Black Keys

What has been happening in my life? Well, quite frankly, I don’t know if that’s any of your business, but I want to tell you anyway. I don’t know if you want to know, but again, I want to tell you. Most probably because I don’t know who you are, and I think that is where my comfort lies.

Listening to: Home by Edward Sharpe And The Magnetic Zeros

I’m starting at my new school tomorrow. Well, my new old new school. To summarise, I was there in eighth grade and left after that year, then moved to Northcliff and stayed there from ninth through to tonight, I guess. Now, the second half of my junior year and my senior year will be spent in the same place I started high school. I guess I’ll have come full circle, going around in a cycle. I’m really quite scared, though.

Listening to: Awake My Soul by Mumford and Sons

I have quite bad anxiety, though That was phrased quite badly. I think before I do some explaining, I should let you know that I’m just writing because I don’t want to get bad again, because that really screws things up. I’m going to swear now. Close your eyes if you’re sensitive. Fuck. Okay, you can open them now.

“In these bodies we will live, and in these bodies we will die, and where you invest your love is where you invest your life.”

Listening to: Thistle & Weeds by Mumford and Sons

Basically, No, no, let me assure you that this is not basic, and not much is, and I really think that that word is used far too loosely. I have spent a lot of time crying because I forget how to talk to people and nobody expects me to forget because I am always talking to people. It’s not a self pity cry, though. It’s really a desperate cry because when I forget to do things that I shouldn’t forget, I also forget how to breathe and how to calm down, and how to reach for my calming tabletty things. I usually climb onto my bed and shove myself into the corner of wall and wall, and hold my knees to my chest and cry. When someone knocks, or barges into my room, I never let them see me.

Listening to: I Gave You All by Mumford and Sons

I don’t think anyone knows how bad I can get, but I also don’t know if it’s their business. I’ve been telling everybody lately that everything will be okay and I don’t know if I believe what I’m saying. I’m trying to, very hard. But it’s so difficult, and I don’t know if it should be and I don’t know what should be or if I’m giving myself more credit than I’m worth or if I just need a nap and then everything will be fine and I won’t think like this anymore.

“If only I had an enemy bigger than my apathy, I could have won.”

Listening to: Roll Away Your Stone by Mumford and Sons

I think that maybe if I keep saying it, I will believe it one day. I used to think that I would never believe anything ever again. That was when I was quite bad, but not at my worst. My worst was bad, and it’s not pleasant to remember or forget. Does that make sense?

Listening to: Winter Winds by Mumford and Sons

“Let the memories be good for those who stay.”

I couldn’t wish anything more for all the beautiful people who I have left behind over the years,and I hope at least that some memories involving me were good, and that they are okay, and that the person remembering cherishes them enough to want to relive them, but at the same time, not relive them without me. That sounded very selfish in my head.

Listening to: Roll Away Your Stone by Mumford and Sons

I almost cried, because I just wrote some of the best writing I think I’ve ever done, and then my internet refreshed and only left a tiny piece of my work. Damn you new WordPress editor. I feel like my heart has been ripped from my chest and not even looking at the ceiling is helping. I can’t even remember what I wrote to rewrite it, because now it feels like lies. I’m going to swear again. Look away and cover your imaginary/real life kid’s eyes. FUCK. Okay, all’s good now.

Listening to: Lost Kid by The Apache Relay

It was something to do about being okay, and the existence of love. I’ll write about it again on another day.

Listening to: Cornerstone by The Apache Relay

Listening to: Head Full Of Doubt/Road Full of Promise by The Apache Relay


We’ll all be okay.

This I believe.

Listening to: Could It Be Another Change by The Samples

-Scoot xxx



I’ve always secretly had difficulty with birthdays. The major start was when I turned ten and I was in fifth grade, and the whole double digits thing terrified the crap out of me, and I would cry every night about how scared I was that another day was gone and in my entire decade of existence, I’d done nothing worthwhile.

I told everyone how excited I was, and my parents even let me have a party. And from the outside looking in, all was good.

For me, birthdays kind of signify the end. They make me realise how truly insignificant I am. It’s like a, “sixteen years and you’ve still done nothing?” kind of air. Also, I get really scared about time. Another day gone. Another day that I’ll never get to do over. Another day that’s totally gone unless I remember it. Ha, no pressure, right? Another day comes, and suddenly I’m dying faster than I was yesterday and I’m the youngest that I’ll ever be. It’s not the aging, it’s just the time, and the lack of control over it, I guess.

What else? The Facebook messages. I sometimes call myself the queen of Facebook because of how often I’m seen on there and how I take up most of everybody’s newsfeed, but the birthday posts kind of overwhelm me. Suddenly, all 780 – no, 781 people know I exist,and even remembered my birthday, or at least cared enough to look up into the corner of their screens to be reminded.

I’ve been suffering a major existential crisis lately, and I hope it dissolves once the birthday hush-hush comes down.

It’s July fourth. 16 years ago at 1;31AM in Prince George’s County in the East Coast state of Maryland, USA, I joined this massive dysfunctional, surviving population. My birthday last year was fun. I went out with three of my guy friends, and it was one of their birthdays too, so the attention really wasn’t on me. We watched Man Of Steel and laughed at shop windows until it was almost midnight. It was like being a proper teenager for once. Fun.

Happy birthday, Jordan Pascoe, and happy Independence Day to all the Americans reading! Happy Lesotho family day to anyone observing, happy Friday to every human being, happy unbirthday to you if your birthday isn’t today, and congratulations on living this far – I didn’t even think I would.

Fifteen was difficult. Perhaps sixteen would be better, perhaps worse. I’ll keep you updated, I promise.


Scoot on ~ why inadequacy is nothing

Strangers, I saw a video. If you are not a stranger, and know me personally, well, I still saw a video.


It was a spoken word video that I’m gonna link right here about why exams shouldn’t mean as much to us as they do. I watched it a couple of days ago so I can’t really remember much of it, but what I do remember is that it made me think about how inadequacy is defined in our society. Look, I don’t agree with all of it, but it made sense to me and I’d like to share it.


the aggregate of people living together in a more or less ordered community.
“drugs, crime, and other dangers to society”
an organization or club formed for a particular purpose or activity.
“the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds”
the state or quality of being inadequate; lack of the quantity or quality required.
“the inadequacy of available resources”
inability to deal with a situation or with life.
“her feelings of personal inadequacy”

Now, let me prepare you for a whole lot of opinion, mainly based on sudden exam realisations and a lack of desire to study a useless subject:
Inadequacy is usually defined by the lack of something in a situation, but in the world of schooling,it is too often defined by the extra opinions, judgments, or decisions of people who will never be directly affected by their words or actions.
Inadequacy is being in the top class and rejoicing at your 50% for maths, or having friends who know what they want to do in life and still being confused, or having your ex boyfriend’s brother proclaim your lack of “good enough-ness” to the entire grade. Inadequacy is too much, I think.
You know when you write a test and only remember everything five minutes after you are supposed to stop writing? Is that inadequacy? Does that mean that five minutes define whether you’re enough or not? That you’re unable to deal with life’s situations because you couldn’t remember that FDR’s middle name was Delano?
Chop and change Muhammad Ali’s famous quote, and you have something that makes just as much sense:
“Inadequate is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they’ve been given, than to explore the power they have to change it. Inadequate is not a fact. It’s an opinion. Inadequate is not a declaration. It’s a dare. Inadequacy is potential. Inadequacy is temporary. Inadequacy is nothing.”


Couldn’t have said it better myself.

-Scoot xx

Scoot On ~ Getting Out

I’ve got to get out.

My last Facebook status update that probably left 200 of the 760 Facebook friends that bother to read any of the crap that I post wondering what the hell I was on about. Well, firstly,I feel like I shouldn’t have to explain every time somebody asks me,”What’s wrong?” or even worse, “Are you okay?” I hate those questions, mostly because whoever’s asking them already knows what they want to hear in return. Most people,or at least most people who I’ve come across want to hear something like,”No, I’m not alright and I really need you to help me because you can fix me an I trust you so much and you’re actually such a great person forhelping me,” but unfortunately for those people, this is life and not a poorly written YA novel.

Basically, for everyone who has been wondering what the hell has been going on with me: a lot. That’s the answer.

In brief, I’m not coping at my school, I’m being bullied again and I have to get out of there before I have a suicide on my hands. And as dramatic as it sounds, it’s a real life issue, assuming that there is a fake life to compare it to.

I’m a tired person who’s struggling trying to prepare for exams and do well,and I want to go back to Parktown Girls because at least I functioned there, and I want to stop being so useless,and I also want to punch a girl named Bridgett in the face, because everything that she says makes me and so many other people feel so crap about themselves, and not taking responsibility for it is NOT okay. Not with me, anyway.

I have to get through this though, because in a little over 600 days I’m going to be in Magnificent Mishawaka, Indiana, at Bethel College. I have to get through this.

  • If you didn’t want to know this, (cool memory erasing thing from men in black activates and now you unknow)
  • If you did want to know this, well now you do.

History exam on Friday, preparation level = 3/10.


Scoot On ~ THE FAULT IN OUR {insert here}


Okay? Okay.


I don’t know if it’s a crisis that (a) I can’t say/think/read/see ‘okay’ without getting emotional, (b) I had a dream that John Green and the Yeti (his wife) and Henry (their son) were my godparents, and (c) #TFIOS COMES OUT ON FRIDAY IN SOUTH AFRICA AND I HAVE A HISTORY EXAM AND AN AFRIKAANS EXAM (!!!!!??!?!??!????)

It did just occur to me that I could possibly just go see the movie after my exam and be broke, and I’m fairly more relaxed now.


Exams! My mid year exams only(ha, only) begin on Friday June 13th (READ ABOVE IF YOU CANNOT UNDERSTAND THIS SIGNIFICANCE) but the panic has not truly set in yet, possibly because the studying has not truly (read “at all”) begun. I’m feeling strange about these exams, and I can only imagine the severity of the panic attacks that will come from them, but I have been in a “COME AT ME BRO” kind of mood for the past four hours, which has also been rather severe. I feel like that sentence made no sense.


At my house, we’ve switched over to prepaid electricity, where you buy electrical units and then only use what you have, rather than using and using and getting a bill at the end of the month. Sounds great, and it is, except in regular houses, all heat producing devices including the geyser don’t get turned off when the temperature drops to 3°C. Or maybe they do, I don’t really know anything about regular homes because most people don’t live in a five-child family.


If you are looking for a video to help you stop procrastinating: DO NOT WATCH ONE

If you are looking for motivation to study: DO NOT WATCH ONE

If you are looking for motivation to better yourself: DO NOT WATCH ONE!!!!



n o n e


I got them through laborious procrastination 🙂

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The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,

but in ourselves.