Posted on by Ozora T Seopa

Tricky Moments

Let’s play a little game…

Knock-Knock
Whose there?
Me…
Me, who?
Me who misses you.

To be honest, I do miss you. It’s been a long time since I’ve written. I’ve missed interacting with you. I do, though, miss being creative. I’m not sure where I fell through the cracks, but I do know that my plans have not yet been fulfilled. I believe I stopped writing because my emotions had taken over. By the same tactics, I convinced myself that taking a day off would solve my difficulties, but it took months, and here we are in 2022, and I’m still taking a break.

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I realize it’s unjust, and my stories certainly where not there to keep you warm and I sincerely apologize. Consistency is easier said than done. Another reason I’ve been absent is that I’ve been working on my website, which has proven to be more challenging than I expected. I’m still not pleased with the overall effect, so I keep changing my mind. It reminds me of the frustrating process I went through in search of the ideal niche for Ozora’s blog. However, I believe I was playing myself because the day I stopped writing was the day something within me died.

I know I seem theatrical, but you know I’m the queen of exaggeration, and somewhere in there is my reality, and its a part of me you’ll always get. Even though there were so many reasons for me to be cheerful, I will confess that the last few months have been dreadful. I chose to focus on the negative parts of my life, which were suffocating me. This piece is more of an update than anything else, so try read with an open mind. Second, if it starts to feel too much, try your best to fight the unpleasant feelings and accept this as it is.

I decided to write because I wanted an escape but instead writing brought me face to face with all the thoughts I had been avoiding. I needed to use my first-hand experiences to bring Jazmine to light in the last narrative I wrote, but I never really prepared to suffer a nervous breakdown. Writing Aquarius Man has made me realize that I haven’t fully healed, and I’m not sure where to begin. So, I stopped, thinking that taking a break from my craft would help me get in the right mindset. It was only intended to be for a week, but it turned into a four-month absence. Time has gone in the blink of an eye, yet I’m still more caught in my past than I’ve ever been.

The few days I had in 2021 were spent continually breaking down, trying to find out who I was, asking myself existential questions, and wondering whether all the past ghosts would end up leaving me alone. Mentally, I was a disaster, physically, I was out of shape, and emotionally, I was exhausted. I kept thinking about how hard I’d fought to get out of the dark hole, only to find myself back at the verge of suicide thoughts. The fact is that I had never accepted myself before, and after I did, I discovered I still had work to do.

Despite my doubts and fears, I continue to fight simply to live another day. I fight my mind, my surroundings, and I’m just to dang sensitive. I explained in one of my stories (Cool Kids) how I learnt to appreciate my emotional side, but to be frank, it’s a heavy load. Sometimes I think I’m doing good, and then the next thing I know, I’m kicking myself in the shins. I kept telling God how difficult life is and how I don’t think I can run the track much longer. I was disturbed by the faces of all those who had wronged me, and every time I saw them, my heart broke. I relived memories as though they had happened all over again. I knew I was not fine at this time, so I had to find a way to let it go, let them go, and forgive.

On the bright side, I am in a better mood. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining in the least…This is me acknowledging that I am emotional imbalanced. If you are wondering. My sixth therapist was the one who introduced me to the phrase. Prior to that, everyone diagnosed me with terminology that made no sense based on what I told them. But it wasn’t until she vocalized exactly how I felt when I had a breakdown that I finally realized twenty-three years later, what was causing my depression and anxiety. It all made sense as to why I never seem to be able to cope with life effectively.

Now I found myself understanding why I constantly feel like my heart and mind are at war with one another. It’s all because I have trouble controlling my emotions. “Pause for a moment and take a big breath in… Take a deep breath and exhale slowly. All you have to do now is introduce new coping mechanisms.” She would always answer politely. I liked her, and to say the least, all my earlier therapists couldn’t even come close to doing what she did in one session. Calm me the hack down. Isn’t it crazy?

Anyway, I haven’t given up on my vision for Ozora’s Blog, and as much as I wanted to jump right into publishing on the new site, I opted to bring you along for the ride instead of withdrawing. Now, I won’t guarantee that I’ll post every day, but I’ll do my best to write and publish as often as I can. Originally, I planned to update every Sunday, but that will not be the case for the time being. Please bear with me, and remember that, like you, I’m trying to figure it all out and learn as much as I can without any prior knowledge of what it means to be an adult in this fanatical world.

With that in mind, keep an eye out for part two of Aquarius Man. Yes, it’s completed and ready to read. For the time being, spread the word and prepare for a lengthy read. Thank you very much for your time and understanding. You are indeed fantastic. Please follow @Ozora.art.blog on Instagram to receive notification.

If you or someone you know is battling with suicide thoughts or any mental illness, seek help. Please don’t hesitate. It’s a topic that none of us enjoy discussing, yet it’s a matter that most people endure. Let us strive to be better for ourselves and others by lending a helpful hand. On www.awakeningstreatment.com, you may learn more about emotional imbalance at What Does it Mean to Have an Emotional Imbalance? – Awakenings Treatment Center.

Thank you, and I hope to see you soon.

😉

Posted on by Ozora T Seopa

Aquarius Man…

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“Shawty, I’ma only tell you this once, you the illest (Ba, ba-da, doh) And for your loving’, I’ma Die Hard like Bruce Wills (Ba, ba-da, doh) You have spark, you got spunk,” Nicki Minaj sang. You have something that all the girls want. You’re like a candy store and I’m a toddler. You got me wanting more and m-m-more of Your love, your love (yeah),” I felt that.

Oh, my goodness, where have all my manners gone? You’re probably wondering who I am. I’m simply the girl next-door. My given name is Jazmine, and my surname is Warrior. No, I’m not a warrior’s descendant, but I suppose that could be the case since my father’s entire family has served in the army.

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Here’s a little backstory: when I was born, my mother died from complications related to giving birth and losing a lot of blood. My father looked after me as an only child with the support of his sisters and brothers. As a result, you can imagine all the politics around who thinks what is best for me. My father, on the other hand, has always been by my side and has instilled in me vital values such as discipline, family, love, and faith. I had always wondered why he couldn’t get past my mother, and it wasn’t until my 15th birthday that he finally answered my unasked question. “Your mother and I both knew having you would be a risk before you arrived. I won’t lie to you, my angel, it upset me that she was willing to lose me, and I held back from fully loving her throughout the pregnancy because I knew she was leaving. While I was seeking a solution, your grandmother looked after her. There was nothing I, or any doctor, could have done to prevent it. She took my hand and pledged to be by my side on the night of the delivery. She made me vow to look after you, and every time I see her in you, I must remember that commitment. When I first held you, I was overjoyed, and your mother was absolutely delighted, as well. Now, I know you and many others are attempting to match me with someone, but there is no one I would rather be with than my lovely wife, who is patiently waiting for me in the afterlife.”

He waited 15 years to tell me the story, and I’m glad he did because it taught me the true meaning of unconditional love and the type of love I want from a partner. I grew up with the notion that love is simple, but people chose to complicate it. However, as I began dating, I understood that you might fall in love with the wrong person, and because this is not the person you should be with, complications arise. I am currently 26 years old, and when I say I have been around the block, I precisely mean that. I’m sure you can tell I’m a hopeless romantic based on what little I’ve told you about my family. I’ve always been, but after being hurt so many times, I’ve concluded that men irritate me. I don’t understand why I had to sift through schmucks to find ‘The One.’ But don’t get me wrong, I was usually the problem, but remember that unconditional love I mentioned? Yeah, they couldn’t handle me.

Michael Evans, to begin with, was my first. He was a sweetheart. A very attractive young man who smelled good and was well-behaved. I met him when we were in high school. Funny story: he was dating one of my friends, but after they broke up, she began acting strangely towards me, and before we knew it, Michael was walking me back to the hostel, and we began to hang out more, and then, bam, he asked me to be his girlfriend. He was well-versed in how to treat a lady in high school and had a detailed understanding of my love language. He was always willing to spend on me. Every month on the 14th, he’d take me out on a date and bring me flowers.

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In general, I’m an emotional wreck, but Michael adored that about me; he was always available emotionally and always said the sensible things when I felt like crying myself to sleep. I liked how everyone at school admired us as a couple because we were always together. Unfortunately, I felt that we would have to break up at some point. We both had intentions to move after matric, so it only made sense to allow ourselves to experience university to the fullest. Perhaps he didn’t like the plan and, rather than breaking up with me later, chose to break up with me a week before final exams, saying, “Jaz, I feel like you’re putting so much pressure on me, and I can’t seem to focus on my studies.” That was a cowardly act, but I couldn’t ignore his feelings, so I let it go and cried myself to sleep without him.

There were young boys who attempted to explore their manhood with me before Michael, but they never got the chance because my father taught me the value of a woman withholding herself till, she meets the ‘right’ man. Which is why I thought Michael was the ‘right’ one because he never made me feel like all he wanted was sex. However, unlocking that door placed me face to face with a new girl. My confidence grew, and it reflected in the way I walked. Apart from my intelligence and affection, I knew what I could bring to the table. I improved my appearance by wearing colognes and learning how to apply make-up to enhance my beauty. I discovered that sex is a source of power, and that we live in a world where men are continuously lusting after women. By the time I arrived at university, I had made up my mind that I would not start another committed relationship. Rather, I planned to embrace my womanhood and live my best life. My father and I fought during this period of my life because he wanted me to concentrate on my studies, earn a business degree, and follow in his footsteps as an entrepreneur. I, on the other hand, had different ideas. I made the decision to leave home and study music in Johannesburg.

The first day at AFDA university was incredible; it was a world full of talented individuals who were all there to pursue their passions in the creative sector that is known as the entertainment industry. It seemed like the proper place to be, except there was so much competition that if you didn’t believe in your craft, you were doomed to fail. The other gender was drooling at me from the time I walked in. To top it off, all my housemates were stunning, so when we all walked together, it was a solid powerhouse of attractive first years. No, truly, when I stated that my plan was to chase my aspirations and live my best life, I meant it. Discipline, on the other hand, was something I battled with. I was the kind to have a good time, but I was having way too much fun.

Even Kabelo had the nerve to criticize my weakness for why he never considered me as girlfriend material. Argh…when I first arrived at Kingsway student accommodation, he was the first guy I met. Apart from being a jerk for doing all the wonderful things for me but not wanting me to be his girl, Kabelo Peterson was a good guy. He had gorgeous, rich dreadlocks and always smelt fantastic. By the way, I have a thing for men that smell good and know how to take care of themselves because it indicates that we share a common interest in cleanliness. Unlike Michael, Kabelo kept me hidden from the rest of the world. He never mentioned me, his friends were unaware of my presence, and I knew no one important in his life. Because he was so busy, he couldn’t always make time for me. I didn’t mind at the time because I didn’t want to be in a relationship, but can a girl be appreciated? I felt used, but I couldn’t describe it since every time he came to see me, he brought gifts, chocolates, drinks, and food. All the things that took my attention away from the fact that he was purchasing my time. Until one day, after he had left my place, he decided to post a picture of his ex-girlfriend with the message, “You the only one I see myself with.” The Audacity! I didn’t even bother to tell him about it because I knew I wasn’t the “perfect” girl for him. I continued to cry myself to sleep and mind my own business.

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I went out with my friends after a week and met Mr. Noble. I didn’t think he was appealing at first because he was a DJ and Zulu, and we all know how that story ends. I refer to him as Mr. Noble because he made me feel immature and that I needed to change. That night was a blast; I was still experimenting with make-up and learning how to do my hair at the time, so I wasn’t in my best look, but he liked something about me. He was odd and secluded. I doubt we would have talked if I hadn’t asked him to pass the pipe. But as soon as we began conversing, I realized he wasn’t a bad guy. He only wanted to be the greatest in the industry and take care of his siblings. The night had to come to an end, so he asked if he can walk me out. Now, I don’t want to give too much information away because I’m keeping that for my Aquarius man, but Mr. Noble made sure to plant a kiss on my lips that made me think about him on the way back home.

He paid me a visit the following day. He made sure to bring some of my favorite snacks and foods. Please, guys, make sure you grasp the significance of not showing up to your woman empty-handed. Come on now, it’s like a culture. Anyway, spending time with Mr. Noble made me realize that I may have been too harsh in my opinion of him. He made it clear that he wanted me to be his girlfriend, but I requested for more time because I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to commit. Also, I wasn’t about to forsake my plans only for a yellow bone I had just met. I went about my business as usual, making time for him whenever he was available. One of the things I disliked about him was that whenever he came to see me, he would fall asleep after we’d finished our thing. What am I? A guest room where you come to sleep and then immediately bounce when you wake up? I’m sorry…No.

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We didn’t work out, obviously. I was far too crazy for him, and all he wanted was a woman who would listen to him and not speak her mind, because anytime I did, he would tell me that I was still young and needed to progress. He blocked me on all his social media channels after eight months, but I would still wile out anytime I saw him at a club because… how do you do that? I recall pouring him with a glass of cold water the last time I saw him. To begin with, I was wrong for choosing violence, although I was surprised at how he ignored me when I wanted to speak with him, all because he wanted to impress a female. I would have left if he had just said, “I don’t want to talk,” but instead YOU IGNORE ME. Sir, did you ignore me the previous time you came to sleep at my place?

Anyway, before Aquarius man, the universe had placed two other males in my path. I shall, however, resume the story the following Sunday. Thank you for taking the time to read, and I eagerly await your response.

From Jazmine Warrior, I hope to see you soon.

Posted on by Ozora T Seopa

Last of Erica

Did I just…

This picture is with two of my closest friends. We are not Erica, Lisa and Hope. The image is just here to sevre as a representation of the three girls in the story. Please don't get it twisted. -Author

Good afternoon

I’m tempted to ask about your week, but I’m sure you’re all eagerly waiting for the story. Please read ‘Erica?!’, first if you haven’t already. Also, please read episode 2 titled ‘Royal, but…’, before moving on to episode 3 titled ‘Did I just…’

Now, with everything out of the way, let’s get started. Lisa and I had been friends for about two months before I had the opportunity to sleep over at her house. My mother was not fond of allowing me to have sleepovers, but we made the effort to spend as much time as possible together. We would always hang out at school before the first sleepover, and after school, we would sometimes head to town and chill out at her father’s salon. Some days, we’d take the bus home from school and wait for her father to pick her up at my mother’s workplace. Most of the time, she would come to my house, and we would watch television while doing our homework, and then I would walk her home.

Sundays were the worst for me because Groblersdal was a small town, and we all went to the same church. Others, on the other hand, didn’t love going to church, and I can’t say I blame them because the church was full of lost souls who preferred to condemn others rather than fixing themselves. I won’t dispute, going to church isn’t my favorite hobby. However, I found myself fighting with the thoughts I had ignored about Lisa at the time. I used to avoid Lisa whenever I went to church the next Monday, not because I didn’t want to see her, but because I thought being around her made me a sinner. To be honest, I think she knew why I avoided her because instead of following me around, she would slip me a note in my book that said, “There is no need to avoid me you know,” while I went to the bathroom. Her note would sometimes be a sonnet or sentimental quotes about how much she loves me and doesn’t want to lose me. Every part of me would be overjoyed as soon as I read her notes. Within the next few minutes, I’d switched tables to sit next to her.

This picture is with two of my closest friends. We are not Erica, Lisa and Hope. The image is just here to sevre as a representation of the three girls in the story. Please don't get it twisted. -Author

Everyone assumed we were already lovers at this point, and whenever I avoided her, others would refer to us as the angry birds. Some boys would sing “Two little birds, sitting in the tree”, as soon as I moved to sit next to her. The main mean girls would then discuss how inappropriate it is for two girls to be so close, but as you know, Lisa and I were uninterested about what other people thought or said. We seemed to be in our own little world. For some time, this back-and-forth went on until the sleepover. I remember going to town with her to ask her father for the home keys and if I could sleep over, and I honestly hoped he would say no, but instead he said yes. We then took the school bus, and she kept saying how happy she is to show me her room and introduce me to her younger brother, but I couldn’t help but wonder if being alone with her for the night was a wise choice. We got off the bus and walked to my mother’s workplace to ask if I could sleep over, and a part of me was relieved because I knew my mother wouldn’t let me down, and she did.

Every nerve in my body was now twitching. She asked if I was okay as we walked to my house to grab clothes and cosmetics. I lied and said yes, she then grabbed my hand in hers and tenderly kissed it. “If you don’t want to sleep over, we can always cancel,” she replied. All those doubts and thoughts I kept overthinking on the way faded as soon as she said we may cancel, and it was in the way she looked at me. I agreed with a smile and a nod. One thing my friends despise about me is my indecisiveness. You can never be confident of my decision since I can change my mind in a matter of seconds. We ran into Hope as we walked to her house from gathering my belongings. Hope was Lisa’s girlfriend, but I didn’t realize it until we arrived at her place.

Hope welcomed me with such excitement on the way, expressing that she had heard nothing but beautiful deeds about me. I didn’t understand why she was so cheerful, or why she was accompanying us on our walk. When we arrived at Lisa’s house, she was immediately at comfort and offered me a drink while Lisa carried my belongings to her room. I found myself asking her why she was here out of insecurity. “She’s a feisty one.”, Lisa said as she was walking in. “I’m here because Lisa wanted me to meet her best friend.” Hope responded to my question, I felt myself easing off on her presents within minutes.

This picture is with two of my closest friends. We are not Erica, Lisa and Hope. The image is just here to sevre as a representation of the three girls in the story. Please don't get it twisted. -Author

Because I was an athlete at the time, I didn’t drink alcohol, but when Lisa offered me a glass of brown liquor that afternoon, I accepted it. “Slow down baby, that’s no juice,” Hope exclaimed after I finished the entire drink, and we all burst into laughter. We laughed, joked, and gossiped about folks from church and school for nearly two hours. We also discussed how thrilled we are to begin university life and planned to study at the same area. Hope and I continued talking until she said she was going to check on Lisa, who stood up and claimed she needed to go to the bathroom ten minutes ago. After what seemed like a decade of their disappearing, I decided to check on them.

“Hope, Lisa. I asked, “Where are you?” as I stumbled over my own feet. I heard laughter coming from a room further down the corridor. I walked into them kissing, completely unaware of what was happening. Stupid me apologizes for intruding and attempts to flee. Lisa instantly stops me from opening the door. I had heat flashes right afterwards and remember mentally shouting, “GOD WHAT IS THIS?!?” Outside, though, I was as cool as a cucumber. Lisa then took my hand in hers and gently kissed it, asking, “Have you ever kissed a girl?” Of course not, but I found myself unable to express myself and instead shook my head in disapproval. She continued, “Would you like to try?” as she inched closer to me. “God, are we allowed to be kissing?” I wondered, my insides twisting inside out as I tried to figure out whether this was even right. Obviously not, given you said in the word…”, I felt the softest lips brush against my lips, bringing me back to the present time.

She pushes me gently towards the bed, where Hope had been eagerly waiting for us. Hope stands up and gives Lisa a look that felt like she was asking for her consent because it was the same look, she gave me when I was drawn to her. Hope placed a kiss on the edge of my right shoulder before leisurely moving along to my neck. First and foremost, I’d like to point out that that was the first time I felt the back of my hair rise. She then kissed me again, this time on my lips, assuring that I was left stimulated. To be honest, I have no idea if I was a decent kisser because it was the first time that afternoon. I could tell they were experienced, though, because they were able to make me feel at ease without having to say anything. Hope and Lisa invited me to join them on the bed, but my legs wouldn’t move. I tried, but nothing happened. Just as I had accepted that I had sinned and that it is what it is, my legs decide otherwise.

Hope and Lisa continued with what I had interrupted when I went in, because no one has time for an indecisive girl. I’m not sure how long I stood there; nonetheless, it was long enough for them to remove their clothing and for me to remain perplexed as to what I should do. Lisa stopped and gave me those puppy eyes that said, “Why are you standing there?” I swear something moved me because I found myself removing my clothing and anxiously climbing into bed. They split up with the aim to create space for me in the middle. I’ve never had so much attention given to me, and I swear it turned me on how much Lisa and Hope desired me. Who knew feminine energy could be so attractive? Lisa came closer, making sure her face was inches away from mine, and I made sure I was comfy against the pillows. As she carefully moved to my right ear lope, she asked, “Are you okay?” Listen to me when I say there’s something about my right side of the body since I felt a drop escape from a spot I didn’t see coming.

This picture is with two of my closest friends. We are not Erica, Lisa and Hope. The image is just here to sevre as a representation of the three girls in the story. Please don't get it twisted. -Author

I agreed once more with a nod of my head. You’re probably asking why I couldn’t speak. Apart from the fact that it was my first time, it all felt like I was in a fantasy film. Also, because Hope was rousing my vulva at the time, replying to Lisa was impossible. “Goodness me,” I said as I tried to conceal the fact that everything felt unreal and far too good to be true. That is one experience I would gladly repeat. Hope was aware of what she was up to, and it was difficult for me to concentrate on the sensation of Lisa nuzzling my good side with her soft lips while gently caressing my booby. They both had this tickle trick where their tongue lightly twirls and moistens their lips while kissing you. My vulva was moistened as a result of the tickling trick. IT MADE MY PUSSY WET, to put it another way.

The image is just here to sevre as a representation of Erica in the story. Please don't get it twisted. I am not Erica. -Author

I didn’t know anything, but I didn’t have to that day because they took care of me; it was as if they had planned everything a long time ago, and instead of feeling like Lisa had fooled me, I felt comfortable. I was happier to have met her since it was the first time in my dull life that I could say I had done something extraordinary. I still find it difficult to consider myself in a “relationship” with a female, preferring instead to have fun before we part ways. It never works because I compare every woman I meet to Lisa. Lisa had a knack for saying the perfect thing at the right time. By the way she stared at me, Lisa understood exactly how to entice my lady bits. Her touch was seductive, and when I recall how she carefully massaged my vulva, making sure to use her fingertip to promote lubrication. A part of me dies inside, knowing that no one would ever touch me like she did. She managed to awaken something in me that I could not ignore any longer that day. She was able to share me with Hope, and they both helped me recognize that I am bisexual and that I no longer need to resist.

What happened to Lisa? You might be wondering, but I’m afraid I don’t know. We all laid still until we heard the garage door open after the intense moment, and then we all rushed to get dressed. Hope left after thirty minutes because it was becoming dark, and Lisa and I spent the rest of the evening relaxing. I didn’t have the nerve to mention anything about what had happened earlier, and I’m guessing she wasn’t either. We were able to complete our studies while also watching television. We were back to our ordinary hangout routine, and as much as I kept replaying what had happened, I was relieved there were no awkward feelings.

My mom picked me up from her place the next day, which was a Saturday. Instead of returning home, she informs me that we will be taking a road trip to see some relatives. Sorry to say this, but my mother was a liar that day; she practically conned me because the only reason she allowed the sleepover was because she had planned for us to relocate. She did it again, but this time she kept it hidden from me because we had a big fight the last time we moved. I didn’t witness the moving truck because her daughter was being scissored at the time, and I also didn’t get to say goodbye to Lisa Solo.

That concludes the tale of how I, Erica Royal, came to accept my sexuality. I hope you found it enjoyable, and don’t forget to like, comment, and share it. Don’t forget to sign up for more stories by clicking below. I’m not sure if you can tell, but my tone is a little gloomy. I guess reminiscing has its downsides.

Till Next Time.

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Posted on by Ozora T Seopa

Erica?!

Erica Who?

Hello there…

This is surprising because I specifically requested that the author write my story last, which plainly did not happen because I am the first to narrate the story. To be honest, I’m rather upset since no one, and I mean no one, enjoys going first. Don’t worry though, I’m not going to betray you by telling you some dull story; instead, let me save you time and jump right into it. Erica is my given name. Erica Royal.

I don’t enjoy disclosing people my age, but to give you a clear picture of myself, I turned 22 earlier this year; however, as narrators, we will not give you our dates of birth because it’s against the guidelines. The author claims that she prefers not to reveal too much about the key characters because she wants you to use your imagination to picture who I am. With that out of the way, you’ll have to figure out what star sign I fall under. Luckily for you, I’ll provide you with all the nit and grit you’ll need to make this journey entertaining.

 Let me begin by mentioning that I despise being among people; I prefer my own privacy and feel safer in my own home. I will, however, occasionally go out with my “friends” because I am in university, and you know how the pressure can get to you. I won’t mislead you; I only have one friend. I don’t make many friends since my mother moves us around a lot, and it’s easier for me to avoid becoming attached to many individuals. Don’t bother trying to figure out why my mother keeps moving us around; I’ve given up. When it comes to coping with her troubles, I swear she’s worse than I am.

Don’t get me wrong: I still adore her since she takes care of me so well. She encourages me when I’m down, and I don’t know about you, but my mother recognizes that I’m a sad person. She attempts to put a smile on my face every day by getting me whatever I desire, starting with the fact that she bought me a car for my birthday this year. Yes, I do have a license, boo. Don’t you? If you don’t, I strongly advise you to STOP RIGHT NOW and GET YOUR LICENSE. I won’t be able to take you on the N1, so don’t waste your time reading and fantasizing about me.

Anyway, my friend’s name is Lethabo, and believe me when I say he is the funniest person I’ve ever encountered. His life is kind of like a movie; there’s drama with him and his major friends with benefits every day, and he seems not to care. I wish I had the ability to be more like him. Be more social and outgoing. I’m sure people are perplexed as to how a cool person like him and a girl like me became friends. Lethabo seems to like me, as in he wants to sleep with me, but I told him I wouldn’t break my virginity until am twenty-five. He insists he can wait, which I’m sure he won’t because he’s not my type. I’m sorry, but he really is a kind guy, or at least tries to be.

It’s just that I’m wary of boys. All my mother’s stories about them and their manhood frightens me, but I promised myself that when I’m twenty-five, I’ll finally face my fear. I have everything figured out; I will have graduated by that age and will be a successful game developer. Because I have the greatest body of all time, I will be a hot sexy nerd. I’m stripping the first tall dark and attractive gentleman that gives me that “come here baby” gesture. Don’t overthink things; it all makes sense in my head.

I’ve decided to brief you about an event that occurred four years ago. I probably should have stated that I am bisexual at the beginning. For those of you who don’t know what bisexual means, a bisexual is a person who is sexually attracted to both males and females, according to several descriptions available on the internet. Being a part of the LGBT community is the greatest, like we’re the most vibrant individuals on the planet. Don’t get me wrong: I think you’re still awesome even if you’re not one of the magnificent humans. You are great because you decided to read about my story. With that stated, accepting my sexuality was not simple for me.

In fact, I felt like I was lost for a while. Because I grew up in a home where God was the foundation, I struggled to accept myself after reading the Bible. Until I relocated to Groblersdal, a little town in Mpumalanga. That place was unpleasant; it was scorching hot, worse than Limpopo. Thabile was my friend at the time, and she was a nasty. She was a majestic lady who understood the kind woman she was, she was nasty as in a flirtations’ beautiful queen who always got what she desired. When it comes to the types of friends I have, it’s evident that I always attract the absolute opposite.

Because she was so stunning, she always wore the shortest skirts with the aim to show of her shapely legs and had her hair and nails were up to date every time I saw her. Due to her, I appear presentable, although before we met, all I wore were baggy Karki trousers and black hoodies. When I used to go to her house for sleepovers, she would question, “Why are you hiding all those curves?” We used to have lip-sync battles in front of the mirror all the time, and she never made me feel uncomfortable about not being as attractive as she was. When I think about her, I realize she was one of my favorites out of all the places I’ve resided and the people I’ve met. Although we went to different high schools, I only got to see her after school and on weekends.

I’m disappointed I’ll have to put the story to a stop, but don’t sweat, I’ll pick up where I left off next week Sunday. Meanwhile, don’t forget to like, comment, follow, and share on social media. Thank you for taking the time to read this, and I hope to see you soon.

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My heart is broken

What I wore on the funeral day.

Howdy…

This may come as a surprise to you. Why am I here posting instead of concentrating on academics, as I previously stated?

I hope you can tell on what you’ve read about me so far that I’m an emotional person. I get moody from time to time, which causes me to withdraw from the world and, more significantly, from those who care about me. I consider myself fortunate to have friends and family who understand and support me for who I am. Regrettably, I am not my typical self today. Yes, I am grateful to be alive this morning, but not everyone in my family can say the same.

Lauretta Maphaka Teffo was an angel sent from on above who came to earth to fulfill her dreams of becoming a tenacious community leader, an elegant mother, a supporting sister, a compassionate friend, and a tranquil daughter.

RIP

To be truthful, I didn’t know Miss Teffo very well, but I saw her at family gatherings all the time, and she always complimented my appearance. One thing I knew about her was that she was polite and kindhearted. My mother and I have always viewed ourselves as queens, and as a result, we have chosen to remain rooted in the Lord and his word. Unfortunately, this might make others feel uneasy since something deep inside them is being challenged. Nonetheless Sesi Laula adored my mother and me from the moment she met us. She would communicate with my mother daily.

They spoke about anything and everything, but their daughters were always a topic of conversation. They used to tease each other about how similar their lives were. My mother experienced a genuine connection and sisterhood with someone for the first time, and it made me happy. Sesi Laula’s ability to make my mother happy made me happy.

My sister Laula died last Thursday, and I found out about it on Thursday. I was unsure who my mom was talking about at first until she provided me a photo of her. When my mother returned from work, she found me crying. She attempted to console me by telling me to be strong and that she was resting peacefully, but she didn’t realize I wasn’t grieving because Sesi Laula had died. I, on the other hand, was grieving for her daughter. Remember the similarities I mentioned? Miss Teffo, like my mother, has only a daughter who is four years old. It crushed my heart to learn how being an only child leads to you becoming closest friends with your mother. I started screaming as if it had been my mother who had died.

Who will she now confide in throughout her day? Who would she turn to for advice now if a boy bothers her at school? Who’s going to tell her jokes purely to make her laugh on days when she’s in a grumpy mood? Lord, who?

“I am the resurrection and the life,” you stated in your word. A person who believes in me will live even if they die, and a person who lives by believing in me will never die.” I know she’ll be alive in her heart, and I know her spirit will be there to help her. Yet I can’t help but weep for her. Who will continue to pamper her like a princess and acquire whatever she desires? Who is going to instill in her the value of education? Who will teach her the value of being a woman and the roots we all have deep within our souls?

“If we live, we live for the Lord; and if we die, we die for the Lord,” you said. I understand that whether Sesi Laula lives or dies, she belongs to you Lord, and I recognize that accepting a loss is difficult because death is not a wedding one can plan for. We have no choice but to rely in your plan because it emerged out of nowhere. All I ask is that you continue to be there for her, as you have been for all of the other young girls who have lost their mothers.

Continue to be there for her, same as you were for all the other daughters who lost their mothers before they could see them marry. I ask that you remain to be there for her in the same manner that you have been there for all the females who have lost their mothers and beat the odds to become accomplished and educated. You’ve never abandoned any of them, and I have faith in you to never abandon her.

With that said, Father, I know you have heard my cry.

Booklet including song-of-songs.311Download
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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.

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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

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Intro

Who is Ozora?

Hello there… this is my first blog, and I haven’t written in a long time, so please bear with me. For a while, I’ve wanted to be a blogger, and it’s taken me three years to figure out what my site will be about. Choosing a niche has always been difficult for me, but today I found myself rolling up and thoughts began to pour. I’ve had instances in the past where ideas came to me, but I didn’t pay attention because I didn’t believe it was “The One.” All of that has now come to an end, and I have finally discovered the perfect soulmate for my blog.

This blog serves as a platform for me to showcase my writing ability. I had a stroke when I was young, which left me unable to move or speak. I found it demotivating having to learn how to walk and talk all over again. However, I had to see a variety of doctors including a speech therapist. Having to practice how to read was one of the things I despised. My mother had instilled in me the value of prayer and knowing who God is. I’ve always found it comforting to talk to God in my mind, and it’s because of that I was able to re-start my life. Reading was difficult for me at the time, but my therapist suggested I start writing and reading aloud what I had written. I eventually resumed reading, and before I knew it, I was walking and talking again, and slowly but steadily, I was reverting to my former self. My desire to write arose from the fight of deciding to live again rather than giving up. Today, I consider myself fortunate that my writing has provided me with relief.

Now that you know how proud I am of starting this blog, I’d love for you to join me on this adventure. As self-indulgent as writing is, it is because of you that I have decided to commit to crafting short fictitious stories that will send you on an emotional roller-coaster. If you’re not a feeling person, don’t worry; all you need is an open mind and a big imagination.

Keep in mind that kindness is better than judgment; my goal is to come as close to perfection as possible, but we all know that perfection does not exist. One thing I despise about myself is that I am a sensitive person who does not take criticism well. But I’d like to interact with you and learn what you think of my writing. As a result, please do not hesitant to leave a comment because it may be beneficial.

Thank you for taking the time to read my introduction; I look forward to seeing you again. Ozora’s Blog, https://ozora.art.blog, is worth following and subscribing to. Don’t forget to turn on notifications so you’ll be the first to know when I publish something new. Make sure to keep up with any updates by following me on all my social media channels. My lovie, I’m looking forward to seeing you soon.

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