Eyes Tell No Lies…Until They Do…

IMG-20191214-WA0020I sent a buddy of mine, a graduate mind you (because I hang around professionals), a recent photo of myself at office.

The air-con was on so I needed to put on my “Eskimo jacket.”

I looked so tired in it.

Well, my eyes looked tired.

My eyes used to radiate excitement and fun and joy and laughter, passion even.

I see those eyes in my older pics.

That fire in my eyes has slowly dimmed.

My supervisor in the short-term insurance telemarketing job I had in Randburg, mentioned how I smiled with my eyes.

I think my eyes I tired of telling lines, and are just reflecting what I feel in my heart.

Sadness.

What’s making you sad?”

I don’t know.

Or maybe I do and I just don’t want to admit it.

Admitting it will free me from this sadness that now feels so warm.

Pain addict.

A colleague said that’s a toxic way of living.

I’ll be way from work for the next 6 days, I hope that I will find ways of getting my shit in order.

Or I should maybe consult with one of these professionals I’ve been bragging about.

I’ve been reading Breaking the Habit of Being YourselfHow to Love Your Mind and Create a New One by Dr. Joe Dipenza.

This book is striking almost every nerve I have in relation to my current head space. It’s a difficult read because I need the information that’s coming across from it.

Maybe once I’m done, my eyes won’t look as tired as my heart is.

~ Musa

I Dare You To Instagram The Bad Days Too…

It’s not about changing circumstances to solve the problem.

The problem is not as clear cut as changing jobs or adding other income sources.

It’s more of getting my next dopamine hit.

I’m unhinged.

My highs are not as high as before.

My dips are getting deeper.

The need in the form of using sex and alcohol as a drug is getting stronger.

Unless I find an alternative.

These are just manifestations of an underlining issue I’m avoding.

A constant, prolonging pain that is foreign to the body but has made itself at home.

With my consent?

Maybe subconsciously.

Anything that would free me of its existence, through antidepressants or dopamine stimulation is openly accepted.

The need for pleasure driving me away from pain.

Making me a master at attracting that anything and everything that will bring me pleasure.

In unhealthy ways…

Now with all this self-analysis and still not doing shit about it, makes all this a useless exercise.

But this is life, you need to own the bad days as much as you Instagram the good ones.

~ Musa

Looks Can Be Deceiving

Life is not static.What-can-you-see-in-this-optical-illusion-723919

You can’t stand still in your pain, and think that life will do the same.

Comforting you, standing next to you saying: “there, there, everything is going to be okay.”

Life goes on.

Leaving your crying ass behind.

And here I was thinking me and life were tight.

You need to learn to move with life, instead of wanting it to wait for you to finish hurting.

That’s where the healing is.

In movement.

Standing still just magnifies the pain.

The pain that doesn’t get better but gets more tolerable.

The shit never gets completely goes away.

It’s the rhythm of life, nothing is static.

Even if it looks like it is.

~ Musa

One Thing I Learned From A POW…on Netflix

There’s this line I heard watching a Netflix series.

It only had one season.

I like those.ACposter

Sequels tend to lose the plot.

Unless it’s unpredictable, that’s when shit gets real.

By the time I come back and edit this I would have found the name of it.

It spoke about minding your focus.

Understanding what you are going through.

Then learning to use your pain to move you into a place of control.

In life, you can only control your actions.

Anything beyond your control is not worth losing sleep over.

Ok, I did come back and edit, it’s from Altered Carbon.

~ Musa

The Relapse

When I get obsessed with something or someone, I get really obsessed.

My grip becomes relentless.

I’m a hoarder.

When something feels good or fulfils something that I need, I hold on to it and I don’t let go.

This sometimes comes back to bite me in the ass.

Like a 5 year long job I held on to even though I could get a better paying job with improved working conditions elsewhere.

Or when someone distances themselves from me, I choose to completely ignore the tells and find a way to still stay “close” to them.

Some people are just to kind to blow me off.

I’m an emotional person.

I’m a very sensual person.

So knowing these facts about myself I tend to avoid human beings, because once I open up to someone, it very hard for me to let go of them.

So I walk around with a scowl on my face.

I’m very unapproachable.

I have my defensives up, because I’m so gullible.

I’m empathetic.

I then want to find things that would make you happy, so that I can also ride that high that comes from your happiness.

This makes me want to make you happy even more.

It becomes like a drug.

I have a very negative outlook in life generally, so finding “fountains” of happiness is like treasure hunting for me.

And when I do, I hoard it.

I’m over-sensitive.

When someone I love breaks away from me or their level of reciprocal love diminishes, I feel like the whole world is ending.

Just like how mom separated from my dad during my teens.

It turns out dad divorced my mom and not the other way around.

I used to blame her for the longest of time for that.

I believe that’s why I stayed for so long with a company that did not value me.

Because “breaking up” with it would trigger an emotion linked to a devastating memory.

I’m a masochist.

My pain-threshold is high, so even when I’m being rejected, I find ways to ignore and muscle on the delusion of being wanted (this is because, to me pain is pleasure).

When in truth my services are no longer required.

I taught my brain to associate pain with pleasure.

It’s like having sex, but with my brain.

A mindfuck.

Which sometimes leads me to making rash decisions that end up with me meeting up wonderful people.

The MacGyvers of this world.

The Steven Siegals.

The Chuck Norrises.

The Terminators.

The Never Dies.

Bo James Bond…who I end up falling in love with, because I have a weak restraint when it comes to managing my emotions.

I’m impulsive.

I’m Musawenkosi Tshoaele.

~ Musa

How Do You Unplug From “The Matrix”?

It’s a Saturday, time to unplug and I need to blog.hqdefault

Well, it was a Saturday when I wrote the 1st draft.

I hope I eventually did through one up before this one.

I didn’t.

Shoot, I’m not sure.

I’ve been busy brooding over being abandoned that I haven’t been noticing much of life.

And what’s important.

Like you, reading this blog. You are important to me.

“We do not exist for ourselves …” – Thomas Merton

Not too sure what that quote means exactly but my guess is that you find your purpose when you look outside of yourself.

The meaning of life or whatever.

I think a lot, I like really overthink stuff and I end up too focused on myself and end up listening to my negative self-talk over and over again like a broken record.

fb_img_14757036410192509622996734996495.jpgSo my game-plan to counter that was to shift my thinking to a positive mindset, so that I can at least see the glass as half full.

Joking around with my mates about how hard life is didn’t help with improving much either.

Life is only as hard as we make it…

Lol!

Which is so much bullshit, because life is just plain hard.

It’s just a matter of finding a way around it, or a work around so that you don’t find yourself being beat all the time.

“When life knocks you down, land on your back. Because if you can look up, you can get up. – Les Brown”

My self-medication, well my constructive one anyways, includes blogging about stuff I really want to believe.

Shit that doesn’t have me wanting to drown my sorrows all the time as an antidepressant or craving for sex so I can jump start my dopamine fix.

Finding a corner to curl up in the fetal position so I can cry my worries away has not done much to improve my life either.

I think I’m just angry and I’m projecting instead of seeking counselling.

Sense 8 was right when they said violence has a gender.

Even if in my case it’s internalized.

Musa the masochist.

Double M.

The pain is pleasure, pleasure is pain cycle I trap myself in.

A cycle I call my life.

A cycle I manage to break free from by writing blogs like these.

For you.

Because you save my life, you see…

…and I love you for that.

Because I’m an emotional Cancerian that likes to hoard nice things.

I’m sorry.

Please forgive me.

Thank you.

I love you.

~ Musa

I See You.

I’m pissed off.3833921-7044494301-19707

I’m hurt.

I haven’t been writing much because I haven’t been having the best 6 months so far.

Yes, it’s only month 4 of the new year.

I still had baggage been carried from last year. So the updates I’ve been writing felt forced.

I’m not the only one having it rough, reading what Thandeka wrote is proof of that.

My saving grace has been going back to reading the Bible app I keep deleting and reinstalling on my phone.

I think when you are too much in your head, you end up thinking you’re the only one having it tough.

So I’ve been on the move.

Literally moving from a bigger space to a smaller.

Taking long walks when I’m home.

Leaving an energy sucking job of 5 years for sales gig…I now see why getting a sales job was so easy…they always hiring because people quit.

It’s scary thought, slowly down.

Standing still.

To think.

To pause and listen.

I think I’ll break down.

Maybe that’s what I need.

Not sure if I’ll ever stop if I start…

…I’m not church person.

I went because whenever I went to visit my cousin’s, and they went.

Silently wishing that on that particular Sunday something needed to happen, to prevent us from going.

God found a way to scroll past that prayer though.

Because God has Facebook.

I did it for others, going to church. I was not internally drown to it.

The choir events, when church choirs from other churches come together to sign church songs, were dope.

Everything else lacked integrity.

The only organisation I experienced which had integrity of the highest level was Network 21.

Anywhere else was just filled with hypocrisy.

The Bible has been edited too many times for it to be taken as gospel.

It’s guidance.

Making sure you are on the right path.

Your north star.

But some church brothers and sister, even in other church, see it as gospel.

I don’t believe in church.

I don’t think I ever did.

I believe in God though.

The God of my understanding.

The one Phetheni still has a copy of…yes mama ngi sase lapho.

So I have been reading through the verses and highlighting passages that I want to contest or interpret better or relate better to.

Finding what I can apply that day, since I started a morning routine of reading a chapter in the morning.

Tom Bilyeu recommended I have a routine, and he’s the truth.

I feel better now.

Thank you.

~ Musa