A quiet place for passing thoughts {{ posts }}...
After everything I wrote last post, you might need a record that doesn't apologise for itself. Not that I am the best source, but One of Wun by Gunna is a staple in my playlist. It came out in 2024, and I came to it late — most of the discourse had already moved on by the time I sat with it properly. Which, in hindsight, was the right way to find it. The album is a long, calm flex, and the noise…
Lewis Hamilton cried in a Ferrari last weekend. Forty-one years old, two years without a win, the boldest career move in Formula 1 history looking like a long, slow mistake. People had started using the word decline about him. Past it. Faded. And then, on a Sunday in Spain, everything aligned — a strategy call, a safety car, the kind of clean drive he used to do in his sleep — and he won by…
There is a weight you inherit before you understand you are carrying anything at all. For me it arrived in pieces. A father's expectation, half-spoken. A mother's hope, folded into the way she said my name. A family's pride, given freely, and therefore heaviest of all. By the time I could name what I was — man, firstborn, Black, South African — the weight had already settled into my shoulders, and…
These days I think I owe my life to flowers that were left here by my mother. Ain't that like them, giving life to me again. This life lived mostly underground. Unknowing neither sight nor sound. Till reaching out up for sunlight, just to be ripped out by the stem. Sensing only now it's dying. Drying out then drowning blindly. Blooming forth its every colour. In the moments it has left. To share…
There was a time when a stranger's words on a screen carried weight. A review meant someone actually used the product. A photograph meant something happened. A friend's recommendation came from a friend. That time is ending, if it hasn't already. The internet, in its current form, is a machine that devours trust. It takes in our willingness to believe and excretes doubt. Every scroll erodes a…