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,


Day three of NaNoWriMo and I’m already forgetting things.

I’m writing mt math final in about 36 hours, so I did another practice exam: 35 /100! Better than yesterday’s.

I don’t have many pearls of wisdom today, except for this: sleep is fantastic.

It really isn’t just for the weak! It’s really for the whole week. I tried really hard to be funny there, in case you were wondering what the heck that was.

I’ve been going to sleep by 21:30 for the last week or so, and even though I run on batteries, coffee and vegan chicken strips, I feel a lot better? Mostly because I only got told that I looked like I “crawled out of a Gotham sewer” once last week. Once, is also an improvement from three times.


I don’t really know. Maybe I’ll find out after I get some sleep. If you’re having some difficulty, I recommend this playlist. And this one.Maybe it’ll help.  Ah, 8tracks is amazing, just love it.

I think I’ll post more than 5 minutes before bed time tomorrow.

Love & Affection,

-Scoot X

Scoot On ~ Soundrtracks and Comebacks

I’m currently sitting on my bed, without – well, let’s not make everyone uncomfortable – I’m sitting on my bed without things you’d usually sit on a bed with. There we go, disaster averted! I just returned from an afternoon-turned-evening out with a friend, and mama wasn’t too happy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those kids who “hates their parents” even more than they hate their own sucky teenage lives. I love my mom. I also like to forget t tell her things that, in one way or another, directly affect her.

I like to go out. I’m also sixteen, and have to be driven around. There are no taxis that shall be taken by me after 6:30 PM in summer and 6:10 in winter. Yes, yes, I know, I could just ask my mom to take me places like the rest of you do. That, however, would require asking.

Asking is a simple process, theoretically: you pose a question, and in the case of the parentals it’s usually a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer that’s required, and await an answer. As teenagehood goes, questions are asked about where, when, why and what you shall be doing, and there will be talk of dangerous things like drugs and strange strangers in alleyways (but nothing of contact lenses falling out or toddlers who spontaneously throw up on things). And then, you get your answer. I think it’d be a lot easier if the answer came first, but hey, maybe I’ll think differently if I ever birth some baby children.

I DON’T KNOW WHY MY CONTACT LENSES ARE STILL ON MY EYEBALLS. (Actually, It’s because I can’t find their container thing right now. Hold on, I’m looking.)


Update: I just took my contact lenses out using a webcam. And my hands. Also, I’m now wearing a shirt.

Anyway, in my case the main question is usually, “How are you getting there?” and I usually skip that part of the conversation out, or I skip out the entire conversation, i.e I casually whisper that I’m going out and I’ll be back and then, I call my mom (usually with someone else’s phone) to “Please come and pick me up, please please.”

She gets annoyed and rightfully so, and then she sometimes comes out to get me, and other times she doesn’t. But this really is entirely my fault- she’s not neglectful or anything.

Well, as the story goes, I got home and she was in her state of annoyed-angry-confused-hurt, and that’s the least pleasant state. It’s like when somebody tells you that they’re disappointed in you plus your mom shouting at you plus seeing your mom tired – all those little thing compiled into a moment where you have no comeback to what is said, where “I’m disappointed” or “This will be the last time” or “Stop treating people like they’re insignificant” is the only soundtrack that goes along with it.

In my defense, I had no idea how this post was going to go, and this was not the direction that I foresaw.

Soundtracks and Comebacks by Goldfish popped into my head while I was looking at my mom eat, and I don’t know why. I just tried to imagine what the soundtrack to that moment for me would be. If we had to talk strictly music, I’d say Lost Kid, by The Apache Relay. My comeback was “sorry. good night.”

I hope yours is better.

All my love,

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

Cha Cha, Real Smooth

Cool things to blog about when you realise you’ve been blogging for 6 moths:


Meghan and Jess are from Bethel College in Indiana and we were #MEGABLESSED to be their host family for a week of their semester abroad her in South Africa. They’re my new sisters and literally altered my future (seriously, I’m going to Bethel now) and I love and miss them to pieces.

Left to Right: Me (sassy AF), Meghan (Culos bajito), Danielle (little sister #2), Jessica (oh yeah selfie yeah), Immanuela (little sister #1)

Left to Right: Me (sassy AF), Meghan (Culos bajito), Danielle (little sister #2), Jessica (oh yeah selfie yeah), Immanuela (little sister #1)



So then Shortstraw was performing 'Bikini Wearther' and then Al Bairre and Matthew Mole were just there too...

So then Shortstraw was performing ‘Bikini Weather’ and then Al Bairre and Matthew Mole were just there too…

Members from December Streets, Shortstraw, Matthew Mole and Al Bairre (gaaah)

Members from December Streets, Shortstraw, Matthew Mole and Al Bairre (gaaah)

Probably one the most brilliant experiences ever, seeing as it was my first official like music thing thing. As a consequence of this amazingness, I give you links to hear Al Bairre, Shortsraw, December Streets and Matthew Mole.


I have nothing else to say on this topic. Credit: 9GAG

4. HOW AMAZING IT IS THAT YOU’VE BEEN BLOGGING FOR SIX MOTHS (jhgsfag21t376jkbekjg356*+wseu589493287`)

credit: http://www.cutestpaw.com

Thank you so much guys! I can’t wait to spam you with more of my rubbish 🙂 Remain lovely!

-Scoot xx


Scoot on ~ how a good day can turn you into a teenage monster

This post was written on Monday, the 6th of January 2014, and published today. Know why? Because this is the PROCRAASTINAAAATIOOON STAAAATIOOON!


Why hello there! You see, I was wondering how you manange to go about the way you do, seeing that they youness of you fills all the pace you walk into, and it’s awesmome.

Today, I  crawled out ou bed at around 8.30am – intreresting, seeing as this girl did not sleep at all. And then I thought that the day would continue to be a regular counterproductive day – I mean, it’s vacation. What the hell else are you meant to do?

Well, instead of staying in bed and watching TouTubers all day,  I was out of bed before 3pm. I’m actually going to type that again, because that is a BIG deal for me. BEFORE 3pm! Now before you get all hopeful for me, let me let you down as I do 🙂 I was only out of bed because I was going to go to the optometrist with my little sister.  Now, if I wanted to have an unproductive day,  that totally ruined it for me.  What else made me all chirpy was the good music of The Beatles ‘1’ album, Phoenix, The Naked and Famous, and The All American Rejects.

The day started off at Cresta Shopping Centre, with mom going to American Express, and then the bank. Now, as you may or may not know, there’s not much for a fiteen year old and a thirteen year old to do in a bank. So, we took our seats on rather cushiony chairs, and this happened:

Immanuela: *takes water* Hey, can I have some of your water?
Me: You can’t just take things without asking! Hey, Chester, you stole my water!
Immanuela: I didn’t say anything when you stole my life.
Me: What?

Me: *pokes Immanuela’s nose*
Immanuela: What the hell?
Me: I’m really sorry, I just had to poke your nose!
Immanuela: Oh. Okay.
*several minutes later*
Immanuela: *pokes me viciously in stomach*
Me: Ah good payback.
Immanuela: No, I just wanted to see if I could.
Me: Okay…

Me: *chokes on water and quacks*
Immanuela: Ah, don’t die here.
Me: I quacked.
Immanuela: *bursts out laughing*
Me: What?
Immanuela: I just registered what that sounded like!
Me: Well, when I make this face I look like a pterodactyl. *makes face*
Immanuela: *laughs hysterically*
Me: *laughs hysterically*
Man behind desk: *looks at us concernedly*

So on the way up to the upper level of the store,  I danced in an elevator and walked out like nothing happened.We then went to game and I, Shalom Obisie-Orlu, bought a phone with my own cash. Yeah, it was R900-00 (so $90 American) and I had to pay for it without parental help – it’s awesome and I love it.

Anyway, that happened, and so we went to the optometrist where the lovely Ma Agnes helped us with admin. So my sister got her check up done, and I got the marvellous news that my trial contact lenses had arrived! My sister and eye (OH MY GOODNESS I MADE A FUNNY) got our eyes checked by Idette – who is such a fantastically beautiful person it astonishes me- and I’m off to see her again on Wednesday.

This is Agnes :D

This is Agnes 😀

This is Idette :D

This is Idette 😀

So I came home, feeling all chilled out, the teenage monster overtook me, and I ended up taking a typical teenage girl picture. This is the result of my “I’m a teenage girl exploring the world” pose. Have a stellar day-day!

Look at me. Holding my dress. Teenage girl status: accomplished.

Look at me. Holding my dress. Teenage girl status: accomplished.

All my love,

Scoot xx