#June30#mabahambe
The best thing to do is boycott the shops of illegal immigrants. Don't buy from them, start our own spaza shops and support each other.
Because honestly, the government doesn't take us seriously. And after the march nothing much will change if we don't boycott
No, you cannot walk 10,000 steps daily, get 8 hours of sleep, cook every night, clean every day, take care of a family, make time for your own hobbies, and still be productive at work every day. This is not just propaganda, it is nonsense. Free yourself from it.
Be warned: the three-legged silver pot you use to cook potjiekos and other favourites is slowly poisoning you and potentially causing your kidneys to fail.
https://t.co/bgwEX0y9d0
“I don’t understand why women don’t just report it if it really happened.”
When I was 19, I reported mine. I had bruises. Hospital photos. Text messages of him apologizing the next morning. My friends drove me to the station because I could barely stop shaking. I thought evidence would make it simple. I thought truth would be enough.
Months later, I was the one on trial. His lawyer printed my Instagram photos and held them up in court. Asked why I wore crop tops. Asked why I drank that night. Asked why I didn’t scream louder. He replayed my police interview and pointed out every time I hesitated, every time I cried, every time my timeline wasn’t perfectly linear. “If it was traumatic,” he said, “why can’t she remember clearly?”
Sitting there while strangers debated my pain like it was a group project felt like being stripped again. My messages were projected on a screen. My body was described in detail. My character was picked apart like that was the real crime.
He walked out on bail. I walked out with panic attacks.
That’s why some women don’t report. Because even with bruises. Even with screenshots. Even when you do everything “right.” You still have to survive the assault twice, once in private, and once in public, just to maybe be believed.
This whole theory that “if everyone has a problem with you, then you’re the problem” or that if you have a problem with everyone, you must be the issue is deeply flawed and honestly unfair. There are people who are widely liked not because they’re good people, but because they’re agreeable, pretentious, and willing to conform. And there are people who are constantly labeled “difficult” simply because they don’t know how to play along or pretend. The thing is The more easygoing, accommodating, and “let’s keep the peace” you are, the more you’re perceived as likable even if it means constantly shrinking yourself. Meanwhile, the moment you stand firm, call things out, and choose not to be pretentious, you’re suddenly labeled difficult. Sometimes, it’s not that someone has a problem with everyone; it’s that they’re just not willing to tolerate what everyone else is comfortable tolerating.
This mesmerizing spiral is no random tragedy—it's a **fatal loop** of pine processionary caterpillars (*Thaumetopoea pityocampa*). These insects march single-file, blindly following silk trails and pheromones laid by the leader, an instinct honed for safe group travel to pupation sites.
When the trail accidentally closes into a circle (as on this porch), they become trapped in endless rotation, marching until exhaustion and starvation claim them.
In 1890s France, entomologist **Jean-Henri Fabre** orchestrated the same doom on a flowerpot rim: the caterpillars circled for **over a week**, revealing the stark limits of rigid instinct over adaptability.
What does this say about conformity—in nature, leadership, or even our own echo chambers? One break in the line could have saved them all. Ever wonder where *your* trail is leading? 🌀
Discovered this place at Tzaneen mall today, it’s a study area and all their services are free. F2 is all the courses they offer for free also, you get a certificate and recommendation letter after completion.
Ngl people don't believe you when you say you're drowning. as long as you're still showing up. as long as you're breathing, answering texts, doing the bare minimum, they assume you're okay.
when you say you're tired, they hear lazy.
when you say you're scared for no reason, they say you're overthinking.
when your chest tightens and your mind won't shut up, they call it stress, nerves, something you should be able to control by now. panic attacks get brushed off.
depression gets softened into moods, something easier to ignore.
not until something finally breaks, not until it's loud and ugly and undeniable and only then do people say they had no idea, like you weren't asking to be seen the entire time.
I don't follow the "respect is earned" philosophy. I respect everyone automatically and then each person has the opportunity to lose my respect based on their behavior.