#Thank You – Ozora's Blog

Posted on September 19, 2021April 6, 2022 by Ozora T Seopa

Second of Erica

Royal, but…

What’s new, what’s hot, y’all…

I’ve returned. According to the author, some of you were frustrated with how the story ended. I also heard that some of you were perplexed as to whether Thabile was “the girl”, you know…wink wink. Okay, jokes aside, today I’m going to try to tell you what you need to know without writing too much. Hopefully, this will calm your concerns and provide answers to your questions.

For those of you who may not have read part 1 of who I am, please kindly read Erica?! Prior to reading Royal, but… Let’s get started. Aytiee. I’m back to tell you about an experience from four years ago that reveals how difficult it was for me to embrace my sexuality.

Erica Royal is my name, and yes, I am bisexual. Because I grew up in several different areas, I am unable to tell you where I grew up. However, I can tell you that I am the only child and that I am 22 years old, studying for a Bachelor of Engineering Science in Digital Art at Wits University.

My mother and I moved to Groblersdal, a small town in Mpumalanga, around four years ago. I was in matric at the time, and I was attending Juliann Muller High School. I despised the school since most of the girls were bullies. I remember telling Thabile about it all the time, and she repeatedly reminded me to stand my ground and fight for myself. So, every time someone decided to be hateful for no reason, I listened and began telling it like it is. I had no idea that implementing Thabile’s advice would get me brownie points with Lisa.

Lisa Solo was the most stunning woman I had ever seen. Trust me when I say that all girls are attractive, and I know that some of you may disagree. When it comes to Lisa, on the other hand, you’d battle me simply to get her to notice you. She was, after all, every guy’s fantasy, a calm lady who only talked when it was necessary. She smelled heavenly and had the finest skin imaginable. People called her ngwana wa le yellow bone, wa di koti marameng on the streets. To be honest, I’m not sure how I’d translate that without compromising the sentiment. Slenda! Mami was just the right amount of petite. Gosh darn, that lady was a walking angel, to say the least.

It was the way she carried herself that caught my attention. The gentleness in which she walked and the way she spoke quietly while gently enunciating each syllable. Knowing how women dislike one other, it was clear why so many girls discriminated on her only because of her beauty and intelligence. However, I found myself fighting for her against those girls. Whenever someone in class labeled her a slob, I would urge them to check themselves first before checking her. When someone called her boujee in the hallways of the school, I would urge them to look the word up because they were clearly misinterpreting it as an insult rather than a compliment. I did all those things without realizing I was protecting her, but she managed to pick up on it.

She once helped me walk to the sick bay after I was stung by a bee. Knowing how dramatic I am, I feared I was going to drop dead, and instead of thinking I was a drama queen, she graciously took my hand and said, “If you drop dead, who is going to love me like you do?” To be honest, I could not even read between the lines of what she was saying, so I assumed she merely wanted to be friends with me. We began hanging out together on that day, and she quickly became my second closest friend. I’m usually quite touchy after I’ve found comfort in someone, and it didn’t take me long to soothe her smooth tights. Unaware of what I was doing to her.

Everyone began to speculate that we were lovers, and we did act as if we were. In class, we always sat next to each other. When walking to the tuck shop, we always held hands. The innocents in me assumed we were just close friends, but the spirit in me sensed there was something more I was avoiding. I recall the first time I returned from a sleepover at her house one night. ‘God, I truly care about Lisa,’ I wrote in my diary, ‘I sometimes feel as if I want her around all the time, and I don’t believe that makes sense.’

I’m sorry, but the story must end right now. When it’s about to get blazing, I know. But don’t panic, si on, we’ll be back next week Sunday. Please take the time to like, comment, and share. If you haven’t already, please subscribe to ensure that you’re the first to know when I publish. This is the second episode, and the final episode will be published next week. There will be a live on Instagram on Monday at 9 p.m, just a reminder. I will read for you and respond to any questions you may have.

Thank you for taking the time to read this and have a wonderful Sunday afternoon.

Cool Kids ;)

What’s this?

It’s 2 p.m., and I’ve just finished posting my first story! This is insane, I’m now a blogger. As you can see, I’m enthusiastic, which explains why I couldn’t sleep on Friday evening. Anyway, it was not a total disaster because I was able to write and get some beauty sleep on Saturday afternoon.

I hope you’re having a lovely Sunday so far, and before I get started, make sure you have a cup of tea. That is, if you are a tea fanatic like me. If not, I’m good with whatever soothes your spirit as long as you’re happy.

Have you ever considered who you are as a person? Do you ever sit back and consider why you do the things you do? Well, I’ve recently learned the value of self-reflection. To be honest, taking time for myself assisted me in falling in love with the woman I am now. It may have taken me a good twenty-four years to be completely happy, but if I had the chance to rewrite my tale. There isn’t a single thing I would change. Because I learnt that every decision we make leads to a new experience, and all those bad decisions I made as a youngster led me to having days of joy.

I believe I’ve always been a cool kid. Everyone I’ve met seems to appreciate my vibe, and I know a lot of people, but that’s because I moved around with my mother, and I enjoy meeting new people. I suppose you could say I’m well-known. It’s safe to say that almost everyone has met the cheerful, noisy, humorous, risk-taker, party-loving gal. I’m not going to lie, groove is enjoyable. I love how every time I go out, I get to dress up and look pretty for the night and pretend to be the dancing queen.

But here’s the thing: people don’t know me at all. Yes, they have some knowledge of me. You see, much like a color, I come in a variety of tints. My heart can become stone cold black on occasion, but only if someone has done me wrong. If I notice you disturbing my serenity, I will immediately cut you off. On occasion, however, I am as luminous as the sun setting on a Sunday afternoon. Those are the days I enjoy being alive, and if I’m lucky, those are the days I’ll have met someone with whom I can share that part of me. I’m not kidding when I say my love is as deep as a river.

Even still, the fact that I didn’t love myself all these times still hurts. I couldn’t accept myself. I felt as though my nature was too gentle, and I wished I could be more selfish, oblivious to the fact that the world needed more humans like me. It took a lot of tears and wounds for me to see my own worth. Believe it or not, I was a nervous wreck. Don’t get me wrong: I’m still terrified and anxious, but remember that self-reflection I stated earlier? Accepting oneself is a necessity.

Thus, it is certain I can be insecure at times, and I have a problem with abandonment. Indeed, I am constantly overly attached and put my heart on my sleeve in every situation. So, when I am depressed for no apparent reason or don’t want to be alive on that day. I lie down and pay attention to my own heartbeat. I allow myself to cry and I allow myself to feel if I want to be unavailable that day. Let me start by saying that I love sleep, therefore when I’m sluggish, I sleep.

Undoubtedly, there are times when I have no idea what to say to God. I mean, I’ll want to talk to him, but I’ll be frustrated because I won’t be able to physically hear him or feel his touch. However, I take it as it comes. Knowing who God is and having a connection with him are two completely different things, and ever since I’ve been aware of this. I’ve discovered that I’m in love with God, and it’s because of that love that I’ve learned acceptance. I found accountability because of that love. I met kindness as a result of that love. Because of that love, I can love myself.

You may have a problem with cool kids, but keep in mind that we are all human beings trying to figure out what life is all about. Nobody knows what happens when we die, but we can all agree that finding the strength to get up and work every day is difficult. Because, while we all have ideas about how we want our lives to be, in the end, this life we are living is a borrowed one, and we will meet our creator someday. In the meantime, now that I’ve identified myself. I promise to try my hardest every day when I get up. I believe I will be able to handle, as long as God is with me.

With that said, it is critical to be kind to one another; rather than competing, let’s talk to one another. Let me hear why you woke up on the wrong side of bed today. Tell me why you’re having trouble mending from your heartbreak. Sometimes all one needs is someone to listen to them, which isn’t difficult. So, if there’s one thing you should take away from this, it’s that everything will work out in the end. Allow yourself to consider the possibilities.

Thank You.

Posted on August 29, 2021April 6, 2022 by Ozora T Seopa · 10 Comments

Announcement

Olaa 🙂

Right…

It’s critical to understand that I’ll be writing about practically everything. From an uneasy subject to a deeply felt one. The goal is for me to provoke feelings and thoughts in you, encouraging you to have dialogues you did not even know you needed to have. On the other hand, I recognize that not everyone is ready for it, and that some people may be uncomfortable discussing certain things. With that said, before you subscribe, please consider whether you are ready. Don’t worry if this is not the case. I’ll still be here if you need me. It is past time for our generation to have deep and meaningful conversation with one another. I’m hoping that by being that change, you’ll be inspired to join me in living your truth as well.

Second, before commencing on Ozora’s Blog, I would prefer readers be over the age of 18. My writing will contain explicit content, please consider this is as a parental notice.

With that said, it is critical that you comprehend Ozora’s Blog completely. Every Sunday at 2 p.m., harare +2, I will post. However, if I have any announcements, I shall post them hours before the official post, as I did with this one. In order to build enthusiasm for the story, I’ll be sharing teasers on my social media sites. Music, photographs, and videos will be put on my stories as a tease, so make sure to follow me on all my accounts to truly enjoy being a part of this journey.

There will be a pattern to how I post, and I’ll make sure to include categories to make things easier, such as Announcements, which I just addressed. Author, which will be stories about me and Narrator’s Stories will be fictional stories told in episodes. Depending on the theme, episodes can last up to three Sundays or longer. Make sure you’re following along with the stories to avoid becoming confused about the plots and characters.

I’d like to express my heartfelt gratitude for all your love and support. It’s only been one day since I created Ozora’s Blog, but I’ve already received tremendous support from everyone. I am honored and blessed to have you by my side, and words alone cannot express how grateful I am. I’ll be sure to let you know if I ever feel the need to take a break since I occasionally pause for a second and take a deep breath. Let’s have some fun with it in the meantime.

I will see you soon

Mwah Mwah