Hey there, luv! Listen up, I'm tellin' you bout Ballito – my home and heart. I'm a counselor here, and trust me, the city is a mix of deep feels and cool surprises, kinda like that movie "Goodbye to Language" – fragmented, wild, poetic. Shaken, not stirred.
Ballito's a vibe, ya know?

It's got streets like Marine Drive, so breezy.

Main Road bustles with life.

I dig Ocean View St. too.

Harbor Ave is a hidden gem.

It's all so real.
I wander these streets daily.

Some days, laughter echoes.

Other days, tears do too.

I counsel women here – real struggles, real hope.

I chat on sidestreets.

I nod at neighbors.

Every corner's got a story.
The sunsets on Ballito? Epic.

I sometimes chill at Carlie's Cove.

Beach mornings break in gold.

Waves crash.

Wind whispers secrets.

Feels like art – a film cut in time.

"Goodbye to Language" vibes, you know?

Words fragment, beauty intact.
I love the local park – Oceanfront Park.

Trees, ponds, benches by the river.

I count the steps on Linden Way.

They remind me of life's cycles – ups and downs, right?

I often sit, breathe, and think.

Counseling means listenin' and feelin'.

I feel deep connections here.

Sometimes I get mad, ya know?

Traffic on Main clogs me up.

Ugh, it's annoying. But hey, life's messy!
There’s a quirky neighbourhood near Beacon Hill.

Small houses, quirky art, a vibe.

People here exchange heartfelt chats.

I sometimes overhear life-tales on Garden Lane.

I laugh, cry, then laugh again.

It’s raw, sincere, and sometimes, wrong.
I love to stroll along the beach at dawn.

I remember a morning walk at Kite Beach.

Waves lapped, sky blushed red.

I felt a mix of anger and joy.

The sea whispered: "Goodbye to complexity."

It was cinematic, eh?

I nearly dropped my latte – lol.
Local cafes? So much character.

There's one on Seaside Blvd.

Great coffee, quirky decor, comfy vibes.

I've spilled tea there more times than I care.

Sometimes I whisper, "Goodbye, language."

It sticks in my mind.
The town centre? Small but teemin' with energy.

Markets on Sunday are a riot.

Vendors, shoppers, banter – all unscripted.

I recall those days chattin' with old women.

They traded advice, like secret agents.

Bond, James Bond style – suave banter all around, srsly.
The river, Nyanga, winds gently.

I call it my muse.

It reflects life's twists.

Sometimes, I sit at its banks.

I scribble thoughts like a mad poet.

Stormy days, calm days, all are valid.
And oh, the smells!

The salty air hugs you tight.

The scent of blooming bougainvillea fills the night.

It sometimes gets messy – a bit stinky – but it's real.

Every whiff is a memory, a laugh, a cry.
Sometimes I get mad.

Sometimes I'm sooo happy.

I feel every emotion deeply.

Maybe it's the job.

Maybe it's Ballito's raw edge.

Life here is unscripted, like Godard's film –

A beautiful mess, words scattered but wondered.
So, my friend, if you come see me,

Expect surprises, raw vibes, and total heart.

Ballito is my stage of life.

I might drop a "Goodbye to Language" whisper.

I might get all goofy sometimes.

But that's me and my Ballito –

A city that speaks, sometimes in broken lines, but always true.
Later, mate.

Keep a cool head,

and remember – life's always shaken, not stirred.