The Quismet Report

  Imagine finding yourself at the bottom of a deep, dark pit. You are frail in body and spirit. The walls are nothing but cold dirt. This feels like hell itself. Yet you are surrounded by gigantic, grotesquely obese men. These figures do not eat ordinary food. They grow fat on the negative energy you release, every act of procrastination, every time you quit on yourself, every secret indulgence in what you know is wrong. Each vice has its own monstrous representative: lust, addiction, rage, laziness, dishonesty, and distraction. The more you feed them, the larger they become until they occupy every inch of space. Then the squeezing starts slow, relentless, and crushing. They squeeze your health, your dreams, your finances, your relationships, and your soul. This pit is the reality of a life lived without God and without repentance. The dirt all around you is precisely what such a life delivers: emptiness and decay. In a society increasingly void of divine purpose, vices flourish an...

  Some people have gone as far as smoking scorpions. You wouldn’t believe me but please fact check it on google, what you find there should shock you into seriousness. Yet the real issue is not the strange substance of the day. It is the deeper disease of escapism that is quietly destroying many lives in Eswatini. People turn to drugs, alcohol, endless scrolling, gambling, and other distractions because they cannot bear to face the truth about their situation. The truth may be poverty. It may be deep hurt. It may be the painful knowledge that one is hated, broke, or completely directionless. Instead of sitting with that reality, processing it, and allowing it to teach hard lessons, many choose to run. The easiest and most available exit is chemical or digital escape. The push factors are clear: unemployment, broken families, unmet expectations, and a sense that life has no clear path forward. The pull factors are equally strong: the temporary numbness, the cheap thrill, the brief f...

 What is right? What is wrong? These are the questions that have shaped civilizations, defined moral codes, and dictated the rhythm of our existence. Yet in the modern age, where screens are both a lifeline and a leash, the lines blur. There’s an ongoing paradox...we critique ourselves for spending endless hours online, neglecting our talents and passions, yet we also acknowledge that these same screens provide solace. They connect us to distant friends, offer an escape from loneliness, and in many cases, become a tool for survival against anxiety and depression. Is it right to abandon real world pursuits for a digital life? Perhaps. The world demands productivity, but it also demands survival. For many, the comfort of a screen is the only refuge available. But is it wrong? Perhaps, too. When the hours pass unnoticed, when creativity gathers dust, when we forget the richness of reality...the cost is undeniable. The question, then, is not simply who is right and who is wrong, but ra...

 Loved, Then Refined By Thabiso PraiseGod Phakathi  I’ve been stacking words like bricks, building a fortress of thought, Reading between the lines before I even knew what I sought. Journals filled with echoes of a mind left unrestrained, Now I see the architecture...I was sketching out my brain but I ain't no rapper, don’t get it twisted ...I’m just gifted. Articulation, wordplay, vocab running deep. A language sculptor carving syllables in my sleep. Did it unconsciously, now I’m fully awake, realizing the power in every line that I make. I ain't no rapper, don’t get it twisted ...I’m just mystic. Man...it’s a vibe, this rhythm great, every metaphor a mirror, every verse a hurricane. You feel like you fluent in expression long before you even knew the name. Now you step into yourpurpose, never looking at it the same. I ain't no rapper, don’t get it twisted. I’m just aligned. Like the greatest general in a world of wars. Fighting battles with words, breaking down doors.I ne...

A Reflection on Purpose, Solitude, and Distraction There comes a time when every person must choose between discipline and distraction, between solitude and connection, between emotion and focus, a war within. In a world that constantly demands our attention, we must ask ourselves, is love a force that strengthens us, or is it merely a beautiful distraction? For years, my narrative was built on books, hip-hop, and my own writings. Tools that helped me make sense of my pain and turned my struggles into something understandable, something bearable. Fatherhood gave me purpose, and prayer fueled that purpose. But then love came, and suddenly, everything changed. At first, I saw love as an interruption to the disciplined life I had built. It was pleasurable, but it also dismantled the solitude that had kept me sharp. I was always fine when I stayed lonely. But was I truly fine, or was I just comfortable? This dilemma is not mine alone, it is universal. How much space should love occupy in a...

We keep trying, as though hope endures, Yet the truth is cold, and love ensures. A spark that fades, a fleeting fight, tolerance steps in to dim the light. What once burned bright turns hollow, gray. An endless cycle we replay. Each soul, a wanderer, chasing bliss, yet all it leads to is the abyss. For I have seen, and I have known. The seeds of love, once brightly sown, bear fruits of pain, of silent decay, until the dream dissolves away.  The greats...Nietzsche, Einstein, Shakespeare... chose solitude, their path made clear. No time for folly, no space for ties, their minds soared free beneath the skies. So I stand, conviction pure, detached, resigned, and yet secure. Not bitter, not broken...just deeply aware of love’s illusions, the traps they ensnare. If you call this cynicism's art, then let it speak, for it’s my heart. For in this truth, I’ve found my peace. A quiet strength, a sweet release.