Beat up by an old lady

No man, this beast of a boer Tannie is either seriously bitter or needs a psyche ward quick. I was parked on the wrong side of the road near her driveway and let me repeat , near. Her husband Bertjie parked in the driveway and hooted, so I calmly got up from the grass, where I was playing with little Phoenix and as she stepped out the car, I kindly said, 'dont worry I'm moving' Before I knew it she had stomped across the road screaming"I will move your car and you will listen to me my girl" very freakishly waving her arms. As you can imagine this hit a nerve in me, so I slammed my door and picked Phoenix up and said, "no lady, I will not move until you ask me nicely, she started mimicking me, " until you ask me nicely, until you ask me nicely" as she lunged into me. I stepped back in awe, "jeez, why are you putting so much energy into such a silly thing!", this is when she started poking me, "why you putting so much energy.... etc etc" then her huge Afrikaans body snapped and pushed me, almost falling over I screamed(as she almost hurt my phoenix), "Don't you lay a FUCKING HAND ON ME WOMAN" she lost it, "you breaking the law", "who's fucking law, yours?", You move" she screamed as she tried to climb into my car, "Just relax lady, I'm moving, this is not your car,don't touch it" once again she repetitively mimicked me, and lunged at my ches with her fists, i just kept stepping back wanting desperately to push her but knew I would probably end up in jail as she would play the old lady card. her husband came over and she said, "kyk bertjie,kyk na haar" in a childlike voice. I said, "what is Berjtie gonna do, is he also going to assault me?" Obviously at this point `I was provoking her. Bertjie just shooed me away, "just go, just go , just go" either he was scared of her or...., " she said she would call the police, I dared her to as she had just hit me, she then used her boer tannie body to force me into my car. Once in the vehicle I decided to fold my arms and just sit there to provoke her not realising my doors were unlocked, i quickly locked them as she tried to yank one open, i put my car on and drove a few inches fwd, she ran to my window screaming so I reversed a few inches back, and this went on for a couple of minues before she started pounding on the window almost shattering it. I then let my window down and said,"don't worry old lady, I will pray for you tonight." in turn she strated screaming demonically, " no no no no , I will pray for you young girl" screeching like a screaming owl. Of course as I drove aw`ay she took down my registration.

I don't know, but that is one of my weirdest experiences ever.



And I did pray for her.

1 year clean

The whole reason I started this blog that I am not frequenting all that much lately, the whole rehabrehash thing was based on my addiction and living arrangements at the time, well now its been a year and that is something that has to go down in the history of this blog.
A year later with no meetings or fellowship here I am clean and sober with a puppy! It is possible to go through a theraputic process by other means which do not include sitting in circles holding hands and so on, BUT I am not here to knock the fellowship, simply I am saying, Hey me, Im proud of you, there are ways, many ways and hey if i have to see shrinks counselors and therapist to help guide me, im cool with that.

Well less is more, thank you

lodging a smirk at the the truckstop

Seriously I need to stop and reasure myself,remind myself that just. Because I drive faster does not mean I arrive quicker.
I am exhausted, trucks headlights blazing my vision. Wait a minute am I not the one who swears by no long distance driving by night,
Especially not in the middle of the karoo that bares not only silence and nothing but hundreds and hundreds of trucks wooshing by.
I swore by this because at night I become like a bat by dayt, I see nothing, only sense that the vehicle is head on. But oh oops that's what I have glasses for, so why I ask myself
Did I drive 2 hours in the dark without them, maybe - was testing to see if I was batted by dark, alas
The glasses came on and I could drive again.
After 9 hours we came to a halt, but a halt that took us in circles around a town seeking lodging, can't understand
Why it would take us an hour when all this town is made up of is liqour stores,guest houses,motels,hotels,b+b's,rooms,hostels and lodging after lodging,an hoyr?
Well that would be my grandma,everywhere - stopped she would find fault,I believe one was'there is a cat'(she has dogs), another was, 'this street is to high up' and so on,

Here we are in a little brick room,a dirty little brick room, next to a truck stop with lots of stray cats and on top of it
I'm sleeping next to a not very secure window,regarding all my waking nightmares are based on such a window...

So this bedbug haven could not be more perfect,that is not sarcasm, merely based on all its flaws I would not have a minute by minute comedy second, with gran,dogs,cats,truckers lodging and all

vulnerable love flaw

Sometime when you so busy being angry with someone who hurts you, you forget to closely into this person and it comes by as 'a mistake' a small detail.
I have been so angry and so busy resenting my dad, that I was blinded to anything that had anything to do with him. I stopped seeing him as human, he had no personality to me, no tone or expression and tonight something of a small miracle occurred after dinner.
I did not realise I had seen it til I got home, there he was, this man 'I hate' , I saw him as a real life person. He was scratching his hands, vigorously without even him noticing, but I did, I noticed, I saw him and I asked, "dad, why are you scratching your hands", he became like a child, alarmed that I would notice and embarrassed that I cared. I saw a vulnerable flaw. In this moment everything that stood, fell apart and all I saw was a dad, a stressed out dad who is normally a monster to me is in fact just like me, a person , a beautiful vulnerable person and at that moment even if just for that moment I was not angry and i love him. I am not angry and I feel love.

Rethink that Thought til it flies

Im here again and then Im there and then Im gone and now Im back. So it goes with everything in my life. never really sticking to anythhing, confident about everything at first and then I some how seem to steer off with another of my many ideas. I find it suprising that the only thing I have rally fully commited to was a six year, (unhealthy) relationship. Seriously?

I have been very occupied the last few weeks with new creative exciting adventures ,BUT, naturally now that things are comming together , self doubt is all bold in capital letters, highlighted in a white glow at the surface of my brain, etch etch etching away.
This has to work, I fight, self defeat and sabotage are two things i need to start rejecting. So rejection phase march forward.

I have started working at this little foods market on the side, selling tshirts for a friend. I like this market. I spend most of the day dreaming up my own many markets of over indulgence of creativity, I get the best eye candy ever and well I get to have a waffle or a pancake, what could be better then beauty,food and explortation.

To track things up , tyo help me from going to far in to things and sometimes not far enough, my problems with loniliness that I rarely admit to but live in from time to time, especially with my refusal to see people and my dismissive attitude when my phone rings, so well I have a new idea, Im getting myself a puuppy and her name is Phoenix, and my grandfather hates that name, and my father hates spaniels, and this one thinks I should do this and that one thinks I should do that, and everyone is weary about this puppy, MY Puppy, so I decided fuckit, this is my dog,I want a spaniel and it has nothing to do with reincarnating my late lulu pup, and I will name her phoenix, so phoenix see you in five days and lets be friends.

so It started as a thought and before I knew it , phoenix rose. It started as a favour at a market and before I new it, and idea flew, it all starts from somewhere, it could start from nothing, butsomething always starts from nothing, so I dont mind those nothings anymore....

leaves fall and trees crash

I don't know what it is with me? Surely if i lack self understanding it is impossible to ask or expect or think that another can possibly understand me. I'm tired, its tiring.

One moment all is great, My mood elated, clouds passing by, High!
the next, down, I can smell the damp of dirt,nasty thoughts knuckled in the sand!

Then frozen. Everything slows down, I meekly lay clutching a hot water bottle, rushing in slow motion/violently crashing.

Loneliness, taking air, blocking passages, a balloon whooshing between my ears,

another day, another night, wake me up in the morning

you wouldn't, would you?

Wednesdays are always fun or to the other extreme heart breaking. Today was somewhere in between, but mainly fun.
My therapist.... (my therapist , my therapist, my therapist...) I do love to idealise. My Therapist insists I am not in love with her,point blank insists! Seriously?

I did not fight her theory , I just kind of shrugged it off as if she were right, but I cant tell. Yes a bombardment of "its just because she is the only BEAUTIFUL woman I have interaction with at present", or "it's just because she is so warm, nurturing",or "this is what I do, I get close, I become overwhelmed and I fall, either in love, or lust, or all"

Having all is a tough one to crack, and My God yes it is a very tough one to crack, but I'm just gonna go it, I'm going to crack, not fall or explode, or let it seep from the facets of my weird personality, no I think to crack would be pleasant. Yes pleasant.

But when I say I'm in love with you, or someone, Take my word for it , because I know I mean it, even when I shouldn't.

Its Nana's birthday today, and as planned I have spent every minute of it with her. I'm closing in on the worlds greatest grand daughter.

Things are good and celebrations high, which means I to am in great spirits. My gran tears up every time she gets flowers or reads a card or opens a gift, naturally my eyes tear up simultaneously. Its a good kind of tear.

I walked around with a label on my shirt, representing the names of my sister,mom and last but not least Aunt, went to lunch with it,to the dvd store, Today i was all four of us, but now I'm just me.

Today my Nanas wishes were simple, to get a really ridiculous dvd , rampant with silly slapstick comedy. The reason, is all she wants for her birthday is to hear us laugh, so that's where I'm off to now, a journey of eternal laughter, well that's what it Will feel like, an eternity of 1 hour 40 minutes.

so Nana, To you: happy birthday (and yes she reads this from time to time)
x

game over

It must just be what comes with me, whirlwinds and freakstorms and sometimes bitter sweet aftermaths.

Simple things like, Ive lost a little weight,Ive got a job , urn my head around.

My heads turn round and I feel over exhilirated. This is how it works for me, one little bit of neglect and im in the pits, one tiny positive change and Im sitting in the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Deep breaths or no breath at all. Is that comsidered all or nothing?

Nothing can be wrong with this day and Im just going to enjoy it for what it is, but of course Im going to my dad for dinner and everything could change, but no I wont let it, I have to stop allowing others to be in controll of my feelings, sure I can give them (my dad) a little leway by letting him think he controlls my life, my feelings are a whole different ball game, a game i need to win or end.

Im taking a stand against control or being controlled for you can only really be controlled if you allow your self , the feelings that come with it are bonus or minus kill points. I feel to good to be let down, so no expectations and hopefully that will have an aded clause(you cant touch me unless I let you)

I shall see, take y brave self to the muddy ground, laced with land mines and other nasty tricks, I might not walk out unscathed, but I will come home alive.

all this drama for a few hours with my dad(he is afterall the one person that has remained the dominant them of betryl)

I will give him a chance and return to my bunker, the bunker of hope.

Assistant housewife

Nor my mom, nor I are housewives, but my mom has a knack of tacking that role and when Im with her I naturally take on the role of assistant.
Guess what Its not all that bad:

Came home and ate a vegetarian curry, me in tow with my mom hopped into her 4x4(housewife syndrome) a 4x4 her somewhat wealthy boyfriend has given her. My mom have something in common, we dont have jobs. She was recently fired and well I have no excuse. The 4x4 took us to a lovely jewelry shop where my mom had a braclet fixed.

So currry and a 4x4 ride to some jewelry, next stop Lezari, a very well known coffee hangout for the wives club. My mom who has not had coffee in all her 50 years had a machiato and we shared a cup cake, scanned the room, giggled like girls, played with a german womans dog, well, either she was gay or she was just german? We then bought my gran a gift and made our way to the grocery store, did some shopping,went to the post office to pick up something for her boyfriend, considered going to a gay bar but decided on a gallery. We picked up an etching her boyfriend bought had it framed and came home. (note to self: my moms boyfriends taste in art is very dark, a little sorded even, normally alot of blood or stencilled woman strangling her husban who strangles his child, mmm dont know if i would be in the same room as him,by myself?)

To save you the rest of the not so boring details where my mom prepares dinner for me and treats me like a princess, I got to act as an assitant to the ultimate wife.

so thats what they do all day, drive,socialise,shop,pick things up,drop things off and pick things up and chat on phones while driving, mmm pretty much a lot of what I do anyway.

with or without Freud

I spend a lot of time dreaming about counter transference, yes yes IM allowed to dream.

this grinding feeling of intentional or unintentional love for her. Evey time I find out more and that only happens every so often, the little details keep me keen. A knacking feeling to get closer but further apart are we.

She is cute, sexy and beautiful. Sure she is a bit of a perfectionist, perfectly so. I don not think she is a god, or has any superpowers, well maybe one or two.

I don't know may it is transference on my half, but so many years later, could it be? well I guess so many years later I still pry for counter transference, and how would I ever know anyway.

I think i need to start seeing someone other than just her.

cheers to the slight possibility of the counter and god dammit to the other.

flea market

All grown up and ready for the world are we?
Not sure there is ever an answer to that question? Take me, 31 years old and I'm only starting.
Ny starting I mean I have been told I'm ten years behind my peers. This does not mean I'm stupid
nor talented, It just means I'm a little slow.

Slow in the way that when there is an obstacle I find it, the upside is that with each obstacle there is a formulated building of strendht but a downscale of sensitivity, in the way that its heightened to the point that normal daily expectations are spiced for blows of insecurity.

Stamina slows down and sometimes I believe therapy,head doctors weaken, fragility, not all that easy/

On top of it I'm still in love with her, her being my grd 1 teacher,my first crush,second girlfriend,last girlfriend and my therapist.

buzzing bee state of mind.

I don't know after my psychiatrist handed me Im 10 years behind, my life became a little daunting. Most people I know, more or less m age, have careers, or are passionate arstists,designers and photographers, all the things I have been, all the things I know and all the things I say inhibit me. So call me a little lost when I have to start at a flea market selling tshirts,

Now now no need to be so negative, I cant wait to man that stall at the market, a feeling of being and the freedom to uncoat eye candy with good old fashioned conversation....

So let me be a faternity of silent ideas, until oneday they are silent no more

All I do is sit and stare,
unaware
tears rolled down my cheek
smoke peeled to lips, a freak

mountain view but unattached
all i see is a rope, a noose
morbid, maybe dont let me loose

tight enough to kill
round enough to fill
sadened subtle skin of mine
enough said, blow
smoke sucking the know
how to be alone
not alone but empty
the space inbetween whats left in me

sit there, look , stare at me
i dont care to look back and see
nothing
nil
no feeling, a pill
riding,stretching to riding
down ill

no muddy slide or groogy reel
no movies sights or slow peel
torture over and away
save or be saved

Bygone

One of those days, pro active in one-way and debilitating in another.
I decided to sort through my shit, and it applied almost literally.

I feel gutted and sad, maybe I have been pretending to be a okay, cos today I feel anything but.
Boxes and boxes of crap, and regurgitation of crapier feelings. I would think after a year of been broken up finding my ex girlfriends things amongst my stuff would be easy, like ‘ok, that’s hers, bin. Done.” No…

I found everything from underwear, to baby pictures, music equipment to an old toothbrush. I failed to understand this would leave a gash to the chest and a bump to the head.
This is silly, I even craved at one point, but no, I have come far to far for silly self-deceit like that.

Some times bygones are not as simple as bygones? But after procrastinating and smoke breaks every 15 minutes, I got though it, the craving past but a little sense of loneliness still lingers.

I’m growing up. Yes I still kept a few pictures and okay there’s one more really big box that I know contains really big feelings, so I will wait til my mom is here, honestly don’t really feel like doing this on my own.

Speaking of mommy, she’s been away a few hours and I find myself missing her, walking around saying mom would do this or mom would do that. Gosh, what has come over me, over emotionally sensitive to each movement in my life?

But hey, I think I might finally be growing up a little (hence crying for my mom at the age of 31, yeah: real grown up)

Its flashing a smash in the side of my head
moms snoring from her couch instead
a bottle of wine an a splash of gin
my migrane pounding from chocolate sin

eyes closed, face quinched, passed out
take a gander and see , a angel a lout
a turnaround bout

mom my heads sore
banging with each murmer of snore
gore,law,before It tore

goodnight lady wine
sleep pilss are binine
its just a rowdy fine

alarm clock please

MMM, what did I do today? Something I never do, something I would never even consider doing, ever… I arrived late, 30 minutes late to my therapy session. The part of my life I consider most sacred: my therapy session, and well obviously my therapist, cant take away from that.

I am never late for anything, but I am especially never late for my session. No, no way. So what happened is I go to bed to late, I wake up to late: but who’s watching anyway?
(Wicked sniggering) My phone died in my sleep, which means no alarm clock. My phone died? Maybe it has something to do with the fact that it practically sleeps in the same bed as I DO. Maybe I text in my sleep, wear the battery down, I don’t know.

I know I was having an intense dream about my therapist. I can remember the exact details but I remember it felt very real. And no unfortunately I was not taking her clothes off, seducing her in her chair, no sadly not, but we were having some in-depth conversation about saving someone and how I need to help her, then she looked at her watch and told me I was late. That’s when I woke up and realised, dead phone, no alarm, boom I’m late.

I pulled my clothes on, brushed my teeth, missed my meds and missed my coffee, but I got there and I barely remember, but I do know I have been more productive today then any other, well if you call productive driving around from mall to mall looking for magnets.

I decided that I should write a weekly schedule for my life but of course I needed magnets fore the schedule to be put on the fridge. The magnets became more important then the schedule and took up most of the day. I got a little side tracked at the malls, watching beautiful girls,woman,Goths.

Anyway my therapist must have said something to inspire me, a few hours later, no magnets but I have my schedule, whoa…

passer by

Just yesterday I was watching passers by out my moms window. For days I had noticed how a very tall African man, would walk past at 4 pm, everyday. What was different about him was the sound of tapping that led him. He held a stick, not any stick but a kind of wand that he used to see. Yes he was blind. I found him fascinating. The morning I left my moms house, I happened to be having my last cigarette before my journey. I was all packed up and ready to go, rushing through my coffee and everything became still, the man normally led by his Wanda stick, walked by, floating holding his baby, led with an arm by his wife. I appreciated this, I slowed down. The way I watched them like an old movie became the pause on mine.

Now I am seated in my home for the next six months, best described as a five star hotel suite, but hey I can live like this. I am unpacked; I have my food in the fridge. Okay sure it’s a little quite and no passers by at all, that will are some getting used to. But the silence is good, the view of the mountain is solace to my busy brain and yes the sprinkler system that goes off in the dark may startle me every time. I have a sense of stability here.

Well no lies here, not everything changes in a day, but from day to day each little thing that might change, really helps me feel…
And don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t mind a few other people in these empty houses that surround me, but I guess that to is a process.

Ok the sprinkler system just went off, which means I can go out and enjoy a silent fag.

My grandparents back in the day:

Perfectly amusing, entertaining and delicious Sunday lunch. The food as always devines, the cast on top form of play.

Today the cast was, Uncle dean, my grandparents and myself. We covered every form of conversation topic, from the lovely view, the perfect day to, the norm of politics, fashion and religion.

No arguments, just purity. I do not mean pure as in the blood of Jesus Christ, but pure in family bonding.

I mentioned I would do things differently today. A gazing on snow capped mountains from across the sea, my grandmother’s wholesome but mostly loving food. Giving my grandfather a hug and having a dance off with my uncle while driving! BLISS

Now I’m tending to my mom who has a migraine, that’s if you call buying loads of chocolate with someone who has a migraine helping. But we sit here and giggle and chuckle.

To all this initially I have my grand parents to ‘thank’



My Grandparents now:





My grandparents always...

sqaured

I think my eyes are squared and I’m convinced I can feel my thighs rubbing together. And this is a result of comfort eating and my addiction to marathon dvd gazing. I’ve said this one to many times, “enough is enough”, says I who is contemplating making a batch of pancakes for my mom. The finale of my days of probable moping. Diagnosis: ‘inadequate movement of the will syndrome. I will a way, I will a way, and sure I will a way from my couch. Today’s excuse for numbing movement was that it was raining. Perfect excuse to do a day of insignificancy. The difference with today is my mom has been my partner in this devious crime.

Pull it together cos its okay, a little bit of time in and loads of chocolate is not exactly suicide but it does make me rethink my situation, but then again I am constantly rethinking my situation. What is the situation right now anyhow? Nope, I’ve got nothing there.

Let me try again, tomorrow I will wake up and spend the day at my grandparents, so no couch oblivion, no guilty wrap, no over indulgence. What am I thinking of course there will be over indulgence, Its Sunday lunch.

What have I learnt today: I’ve learnt that it is possible for my mind to shut down if I entertain myself with to many anesthetized, mundane actions. From this I know I’m feeling sick physically and it seems there are no thoughts fluttering through my head.

So what am I going to change, well I will start with hardest thing, as I warm on doing most times, just diving in, so the hardest thing would be waking up before mid day, who knows an early morning could change my whole day? No?

Who are The 'Baddies'

I have a certain amount of paranoid neurosis around some things. One thing stands out, this one thing is the one thing I could do with out, but it just seems to be out of control.
I have a fear for intruders. “The bad guys”, it is possibly because I had a life of broken boundaries. Our houses (we moved a lot) were constantly been broken into, echoes of weird guys trying to kidnap my sister and I and I specifically remember the incident of the ‘yellow man’, I have always had an imagination and I decided that a normal everyday man was yellow. I concluded this by the foot and hand marks on the wall he climbed over, traced with yellow mud, and for the rest of time I have believed I once had a yellow burglar.

Turns out, now later in life I have some sort of warped imprint relating to the baddies, feeling of constant threat when there really probably isn’t any, any at all.

Last night before bed I went through my usual or perhaps unusual ritual of making my space a safe zone. Since my mom got home early from the night with the girls, I was distracted by her drunken tactics of scaling walls and turning the heater off, three times as she forgot she put it off the first time. So after some comedy of the mom show I sent her off to bed and soon my ritual began.

I walk around the apartment to ensure there is no one hiding in the rooms, once im satisfied I repeat my round but this time I ensure every door is locked and every window closed. I then repeat just to make sure I am enclosed. I make my way to my room and close the door, since there is no lock I have found this genius way locking my self in by stuffing my sandals under the door, that way the door cant move from my self made door wedges. Obviously through all this I have taken my meds, in a timeos way, to ensure I fall asleep as my head hits pillow. Phone in hand in case of emergency and normally if I hear no noises I sleep. Last night was a little different.

Apparently in my sleep I heard a noise and automatically called my mom, I then went back to bed. A little later, at 1:48am I must of heard yet another noise my mind insisted was an intruder, took my phone and instead of calling my mom I called my Drug counsellor who I have not seen in 3 months.

Great, a call to my drug counsellor who I haven’t seen in ages, at 1: 48am, she can only have one conclusion: USING. So I panicked for a bit, what are the odds, how is this going to sound when I call her to explain, that I wasn’t using, but I got scared in the middle of the night, oh and oops called you. Yeah, sounds a bit like a kid on drugs. Wacky. I called her and I guess last night just pushed me in the right direction, I went to see her, she didn’t think anything of it, she helped me today, and things are more or less in perspective now:

The lesson, I don’t think I’m going to sleep with my phone in my hand. And maybe just maybe I should try going to bed without some frenzied house search for something that just isn’t there.

So who are the baddies anyway?

It could be them, those who are out there

It could be we, when my mom comes home tipsy thinking shes spiderman

It could be you, who doesn’t know

It could be me, who hangs in the wrong part of my mind

Or simple ist could be no one

Couch Potato No

I feel like I've been on a bit of a bender. Not that of drugs and beautiful woman (which sounds almost romantic but always almost ends very badly! Let me think, something like badly.), so no I have chosen a more humble approach and slightly safer, but that is definitely debatable.

I have held a 3-day DVD marathon, with the company of take out and stay in. I have reached the point that when I get up off the couch, its dented, ashtrays filled, stomach bloated, eyes squared. Yes these three days have been fun.

I should be finding a place to live. I cant, I’m stuck, and I search the same places over and over, like the shutter in my brain has been jammed by my escape into super heroes, Chinese villains, mystic robbers and eccentric housewives.

I lay here, stuck in a self-destructive play button, paused. Almost delirious.
My mom has naturally gone out with the girls, cant help but think “should roles be reversed?” I could sit here wrapped up in a blanket, smoking a fag blended with almond ice cream all night, or I could get up and go. Take the evening, see where it goes, locked lips with a fantasy woman, arm wrestling with an old friend, who knows what would happen if I got up and left.

I hear this little voice, “one more night, just one more night”, when that voice speaks it scares me. It sounds a little like any life threatening bad habit “this is the last time!” Wake up from your guilty conscience; assess the situation for what it is, because you know exactly what it is. No pretence here, IT’S CALLED WALLOWING.


Will I wallow for the rest of the week, or will I just get up and go?

unleash me

No, I have not been here, not hidden in the shadows or on bathroom floors either. I have been nowhere really but a long term holiday. I thought being incognito suited me well, but after a session with my therapist (whom I still find attractive- doubt that will ever change) Point is she asked if I still paste my words into my blog. My answer was NO.

My answer has changed, She juggled some balls in my head and it got me thinking, I miss my entries, they are important to me, read or unread, they keep me in check, of where Im at where my wayward life unfolds.

So today I sit disappointed. My dad made me a promise a promise he could not keep. That fact brings me back to my entire relationship with this man from when ever to forever. I have been doing the right thing for me for almost 11 months now. A week ago I was finally going to move into a place my dad promised, only a few days before he retracted and I hurt.

My initial reaction was to use,then I thought of hanging myself in his bathroom (decided that would be a tad dramatic) so instead I sent a mail a mail he does not understand. So I can help but feel saddened, a little regressed.

Truthfully I am overcome with confusion, Kind of jaded, wearing a blindfold, waiting for my puppet master to pull my strings. In my soul I rip those strings from me , takem my blindfold off gently, and walk ever so slowly.

homebody

My psychologist called back and said,"its been a long time.", "to long" ,I thought. "Yes it has." I answered.
Yes it has for more then one thing, its just been to long.
I'm missing a home I do not yet know where its siyuated, but I miss where I feel most at home: capetown.
Yes its great having no responsibilities, driving to whereever I feel on the day, being on the road for the last 3 months,
Lonesome , no people to worry aboutn nothing to be wary of, well just whatever I feel like.

Who would of thought, I would be over carefree, no not I! Who would of thought I would crave atleast
One responsibility, no definately not I, and mostly who would of thought, I would want to settle in just one place: well
Yeas I!

I feel up in the air, but happy, just not fully in connection of next! So next!
I long for the road on tuesday when I set out to 'home' just to be able to see my therapist every wednesday, just to be able to wake up
Where I will stay for atleast longer than a month? Just to be able to find a place I can call home, have a dog I can call phoenix(undecided about name)
Create a space where I can create daily, and well then sure being on the road again could be good.

I just need to know, when I'm on that road I always have a foundation to return to, a place calledx home.

single

At first I didn't take to well to being single, well obviously no one enjoys been gutted.
Like most break ups - I felt a part of me sink deep, to deep to reach again, this time it happened
To be an intense 6.7year relationship of love and loss.
I thought I would never survive it. "Oh no, I don't care, I may as well use as much coke available and die" the
Normal self pity drug binge everyone leave me be and let me dteriorate til my heard goes.

Well I did survive it, the drug binge, the rehab, the love loss(although I still love her) the all of it.
And now I am honestly happy to be singleits a record for me,single for a year,I've broken my record and I'm clean.
Sure I'm not always happy but I'm honest with myself,I see differently, I know I allowed myself
To be with me.

Obviously I don't want to be single forever,living with masses of dogs7nlearning how to knit. No!
But,
Truly I believe I have learnt so much more by actually, genuinely letting go,of her,of it,of me.

Its good , its all just as good as it is tailored for me.
(Oh and the thing about still loving her,well that's ok to, to love her but to know she is not right for me or I for her,its goody

driving a daredevil

An early start to ride with my gran. Well she drives like a lunatic, I found myself clucthing
My seatbelt or hitting the dash board from time to time as she sped from 120 to halt in 1.1seconds, then sliding from
Left to rightt as she surfs the corners, phew, a couple of hours later(ready for opassenger eject a few times) we reached our detination: an old age home.

And here I spent the day. The day in a brickface estate with tricky security, white walkers, a few wheel chairs and aunt anne with
Her weaponerous walking stick, she taunts those in her way.
Parts of this place were sad, the prisonlike buildings gated in, the old folk discussing the end.

But a few hours later after the few select of hanging with the old folk, I drove home:happy!
(Sure I was stoppedd by cops and fined for speeding,ironic since I refered to my gran as rthe lunatic,but I even got
The cops to drop some miles) and there I was, driving happily to another temporary destination.

What's next

limbo

I don't know if I'm getting lazy or if I have post holiday blues. Or maybe I don't know
Why I have agreed to being in limbo for the next 3 weeks in a town I literaly despise. Yes I'm back where I said I would
Never return, my place of birth. Yes the most discrimtating, racist little town. It disheartening.

I'm sure I will find something to do, I usualy do in my days of limbo, my second name could be limbo, living in the land of the still.

I'm visitng auntas house,watching greek tv, no I do not underdstand a word,and here I watch,a lovely backdrop
To my limbo.


I have this haze,glaze over my eyes and its freaky,this is what's going on. I smoke,I venture around from
Food courts to cemetries. Speaking of cemetries, today I visited one, of a dear person I lost in my childhood- laying there still,18 years ltr.
Mostlt I had some flashbacks and naturally decided I never want to lay in the ground- discarded cemetries and dying flowers, all loomed in the mix of the dead,
Mostly disrespected by those who steal parts off there tomb stones,hardly ever seen by those left.
No,I have decided I will have it put in writing,although I am young just so its known, when I die I will not go dust to dirt,rather cremate me
And blow me over tje river of the veld in letaba, to be visited by nature always.

Ok I'm not getting morbid,just realistic for a second, I know when I die I die, but lay me peacefully departed to a place I love,a place people love, a place that will not be discarded.

So limbo to cremation to live and love of life, and in death there is still some sort of life...

its me and the wild

Here I sit beside the fire I made (the fire I'm quite proud of) solo in a luxury tent,solo in
The bushveld. My soundtrack goes like this: hippo,baboons,loud screeching bird,hippo,hippo,lion kill,hippo,
Hyena singing shivers.

I sit here,crackling fire thinking,its me I'm solo nothing but the sand. I become brave
With my fire as a weapon, but no bravado as the baboons are comming and I'm convinced its lion.

Another log,the sky so well kept but loud with sparkling calm. I don't see stars like this back home.
Tonight is a test, can I handle my paranoia of evry sound "being an attack"

Another log, I'm ok, let the lions whale,the hyenas dual, the hippos grunt and the screaming?
Hypontise me with this that not all will ever see, just get over it, the animals are not comming for me, for all that seperates us
Is a piece of canvess, and my fire I need to let burn out,

mommy

I am feeling a whole lot of good today. I broke off from my dad and them for 48 hours,
Spent those hours with my mom who leaves for vietnam tomorrow.

It Feld good to be in a space where i could be myself, so very good. I feel i have been confined to
Half a me for the last six weeks, i got it. All out.

Lastnight i had to share a bed with my tiny mother, ofcourse i insisted we sleep head to toe, not that it mattere
As she doesnt move. So beautiful, her tiny little self, to hug her os to feel a part of.

Thanks mom for a beautiful day, mostly for giving me the space to be me! I will miss yoy
U,
Now im sharing a bed with my ouma, we have an early start, darting back to safari.

"daddy"

When I learnt how not to have a father growing up it was hurtfull enough. As an adult learning it all over again is beyond words.

To have to dip into my soul to find some sort of self control as not to feel it all comes out sideways!

By this I mean...

I know the feeling of been discarded
The notion kept me emotionally retarded

I know the pain of a blow,dust hit
No tears,instead blood by my tounge bit

Accepted back but only by rules
Expected are we to be mere fools
Thrown out to wait
Not even a childs whimper bait
Lost be gone to boundries none

Stood standing, dark but reaching
Never reminded if the screaching

Now and adult faded to part
No ends of meaning to be a part

Now years by learnt the forgiving
A balance but not stable
Woken by what I thought finally
My dad,a daughter, to soon to be

My father still now not only in realm
No space for his first not even a dream

I learnt today after 31 years, even in his subconcies I wade, not there nore here, just one past fade

an elephant just passed by

I have this view, I look out on to a riverbed,I'm in the bush and for others who don't know the bush(safari)
Peacefull enclosure, a soundtrack of trumpets and a vague purr of some cat.
Looking up I see a star, not just any star, its falling beautifully.

Why would I want to be anywhere but here. Nowhere but wholly stood in yet another paradise.
How lucky I am to have taken the las 5 weeks and the next three in different parralels
Of opposite worlds. The one thing in common is some sort of southern hemisphere of natural perfection.

Everything adventure fallen in calm, I make my way to bed, avoiding the bats sqeuling in the thatch(but privately enjoying the company)
So fluttering I go

pet name for public affection

Ok that's it! I can't handle public affection. Maybe I just have issues with affection.
Sure holding hands and a kiss here and there, maybe a pet call once a day I could handle, but I have to draw the line
At picking the skin of her boyfriends back. Maybe I have a sereies of symptoms of cabin fever, but everytime I
Am in the same room as my 19 year old brother with his 17 year old girl I find my skin crawls.
Perhaps its because I have been single for 1O months (and let me add that's a record for me) I sit here across them and either
I will throw something at them or I will probably just go smoke a fag.
Its ok if my bro gets his hands on this its not personal its just a genralisation of many couples,just using an eg.
Here's the list of public affection that makes me... Pet names constantly, "babe, give me your nose, smok bok nunu babe" he then takes mouth to nose and grunts,
"Its called back washing schnukom" that's just a minor offence,

The constant baby talk, and over rated affection ( canoodeling,tickling,more kissing than public neccesity)

Seriously, the grunting takes the cake, the looking over not cos - want to but because we are in the smallest space - have to listen, watch and pretend that it is not
Freaking me out. The constant begging "tickle, tickle tickle" and when she does not respond he huffs and puffs and...

Then the playful slapping that becomes horseplay that hurts , the pleading"I'm soryy babe" the giggling the kissing.

No this has nothing to do with being single, this is boundries kids, simple boundries.

Ok so - have vented, so let me go go smoke a fag, get over it,tolerate it, hide from it, understand it oir purely just leave it alone.

My lesson from this is the next relationship I'm in , I will stay clear away from babying, cos I to am guitly of pet neames

practise

After 6 weeks of people skinner whisper behind closed doors will aid one to build a complex...

You know this holiday has been anything but balanced. One would think the dream locations I have trvelled would be beuty enough to bring balance and solace. However when traveling with family that point blank refuse to let u be a part of, well let's use part as the operitive word (everything falls apart) I have just learn to semi hide it. Sadly its not hidden and even more sadly they still do not see.

I sit just a few steps from them and they whisper, I walkf past the room as they whisper and they close the doot. - see them speaking softly as a family (this to remind u is supposed to be my family) anyway so I mainline them and as soon as I arrive the talking stops and we have an awkward moment. This has been my contact with this side of my family for the duration of a 'dream holiday'

Its hard to take away the pain and focus only on the joy, gladly There have been times I have managed to ignore and filter and seen the beauty of long white beaches in mozambique, staying on the top of a dune in a house made of palm under a mosquito net watching the moon rise above the ocean. The fun of a jeep sliding in the sand , used to carry the locals to there make shift house, truly living off the land!

I learnt nostly from the locals, admiring them for there very simple lives, seeming so gratefull, there little farms and there children going to school in the dust, stopping for every white man, screaming 'sweets,sweets' almost sounding like a choir of goats, they tie to their coconut trees. This has inspired me to let go of europe for a while and plan an adventure through my own land- africa.

I could go on , but more stories will prevail, as there are many through the eyes of all.

Mauritius to Maputo

I have been away on the magical island of Mauritius. Magical it was or always will be. I am always fascinated by the culture, the
way the real Mauritiuns live, so meshed with, hinduism,communism,creole,cathiloc(oh thats religion) My point is I love that place.

I found myself wandering the streets of Ground Bay(feel free to correct my spelling) warm and humid,hidden behind my camera, washed off by quick showers of warm rain, just getting lost by myself in the village. But ofcourse being with my dad I was handed a plate of luxury. Feasting everyday, trinying every different dish on offer, with the most quenching pine apple.

I ate, I lay on the beach, I learnt to sail, i snorkled, surropunded by angel fish and water. I believe i have lived under water in my life, so being by the water everyday is living. Then another meal. After a feast of beautiful people, dancing island style. Didnt take me to long to learn. I was suprisingly approached by a girl who invited me in, I changed my ming when I learnt she was underaged, it was hard to make that decision but not appauling had I taken the bait.

Yes sadly there was the normal Family drama, seperated from my father and his obsession with my sister. I learnt more about my brother, speaking truly with tears in his eyes. There is a drift of sadness and a rift between by us and them, my sister is not here nor there,has no understanding for any other and I learnt the very hard way that all I can do is feel sorry for her and love. Feeling sorry for he parents, not so fast as they need to get her some therapy. I fear without an outside influence with mental experiance, she will be far lost to far places for ever and ever and ever but never.

I worked around the lies and pretence that all is oh so perfect and enjoyed the island as much as I could, I enjoyed the ladies of creole , I enjoyed the local food , the warm water seeping through and mostly I enjoyed the Kareoke , I sang Bonnie Tyler and we will rock you, I put on a show, i collected fans , all opver the age of 60, bless them.

I met a 11 year old breakdance whizz, a woman so cooked, my Bi polar looks like dimentia to her, ofcourse we clicked. She believes I will be moving in with her in Johannesburg, where we will live happily as crazies, I will act as mediater between her daghter and herself, she will send me for counselling lessons as well as singing lessons, She was a trip worth meeting.

Ah Mauritius how I love you, your beaches and oppertunities of stalking beautiful eastern europeans on the beach. How I love your coconuts and the breakdancing cage quest, Oh Mauritius how I love you with me in it...

Pictures will be posted when I get back to SouthAfrica, I am sending this from a portugues colnial hotel in Maputo....

vuvuzela

I was proudly part of the opening of the world cup yesterday, I was hyped all day
Blowing horns , singing merrily and eating good ol southafrican food!
The city shook, the country rocked and I sat still letting the motion of the vuvz humming like beez
Moving me, riding round in an ol fashion car with my uncle as he blew his bugel and I snapped
The massive crowed with my camera, then that first goal, I could hear the whole country, vooooooooooooooov
I was thrilled, yesterday was the best part of my holiday.

Now I am rejuvenated, waitng to board a plane to Mauritius, and island holiday
See youlater

X

set match

I knew this 'fanily' holiday would be difficult, and difficult it has been.
I have to find a way to make this work for me, I will have to learn to really bite my tounge,
Not just a half nibble.

I sit here next to my gran as she reads gone with the wind, watching my dad and stepmom
Sort out a water bill, and the smell of sun oil from my sister lying on the out skirts of a golf course
In a yellow bikini, I can hear my brother inside lifting weights. And me, with a ciggerette trying to
Get a sense of my self and a way to fit in.

After emotionally depleting arguments with a side of my father I have not seen in years, I have found an effective
Outlet to relieve my sobs and agerous fears. I have taken to my best friend being a tennis raquet, ball and wall, and with these
Friends I smash my ball with every muscle powered by anger as hard as I can against my wall, and I run and I hit and I
Play against myself until I am drenched and tired out that I can no longer feel the hurt, my friends true. Of course I'm back
At that wall again a few hours later.

I am in a place I need to be, yes a little dependant on my therapist and councilor, emailing one
Phoning the other, I'm a therapists worst nightmare. So I promise today to wing this one on my own from her,

Let's see...

family feud

Sometimes family brings the best out of you but today the worst has been one of the
Most hurtful and emotionallu draining days of my days.

I can't describe the feeling you get after your father tells you agressively that
You are less important than hi youngest daughter, he explains to you that he calls
The shots and has the power to decide who deserves less or more.

Well that hurt, I cried for hours. Hours and hours. I sent him a meassage explaining
That I can not be on this holiday when I am always third best, insignificant, I asked to go home.
He replied, once I had felt like my heart had been ripped and twisted and slung back in like iron
To mesh. He said I am not and I to have negative qaulieties, such as being over sensitive, funny I never thought of
That being a negative. I wish he could accept me as I am, but that is unrealistic.

So is me being apart of this . I don't want to hurt and I don't want to hate them.

Here I go again telling myself to focus on what's good for me, when it comes to feeling gurt from
My dad with our sordid past, its hard, its just fucking hard.

But ok, for me I believe ignoring the negative all the time only allows it to grow,
But working with the negetive and change, you get more positive, right?

yes this is rather deepish

There are only so many times I can tell myself to be myself
Only so many times rejection winds me
Only so many times I can be shut out

There are many times - feel myself loose my myself
... Many times knocked in the gut from forces lured by need of love

Now I feel all
Feeling of loss of self and hacked out from love I believe
Should be a standard given

Loss of trust from a wayward relationship of a daughter to father
Taken away from a father by a father

Given a hope from self by self withdrawn
Into a land prefered by paintings
Drawn by a handful lust of gorge

Fallen to minimal mass of obstruction
Take nothing, give everything
This? Nature?

I call inward, outwardly love
A feather falls and smile written on my face

Not loss of self but circumstance
Gleeful leap into a phoshorous pool

Lure off, dig in
I need just a feast of free

a stray cat

Lastnight I tamed a stray cat just by sitting next to it silently in the dark.

This place we staying at is kind of strange for me, a luxurious cabin set ont a golf course, behind
A tennis court with a hippo pool just below. I giggle a lot.

This morning I drove a golf cart, my gran seated beside me, following my dad and brother at close range while they
Played golf. Lost in thought I drove up a ridge and almost rolled the cart. I became
A little agressive as my dad laughed at me "you almost rolled a golf car" very funny!

What I found hard not to giggle at today and probably cause it sad, is when my lil sister came
Outr her room at 9 30am in a gold glitter coctail dress with glam heeled knee high boots , funny or sad? Peculiar that her parents allow her
To go through that embarresment. I personally worry deeply about her, with a knowing that she lives in a grandiose fantasy world of celebrity statis,
Knowing this well I feel my sister needs serios attention.

I am unlost to her world and wish she would come sit by me silently taming a stray cat

asleep at scandal

:I don't speak the same langauge as my family and I don't just mean
different ideas or wave lentghs, I mean actual vowles. I am out of my
comfort zone and find my facial muscels tensing into smile.

Naturally they have many questions for me and I am more or less direct.
However I find I can't give an honest answer which would be"well over the
past eight months I have been in rehab and then had a little visit in the
psyche ward, but no worries I had a one night stand with a beautiful dutch girl,
thought I was in love with my counselor and moved in with my grandparents" no my answer went more like this, "I have been ok and I am really good now!" Then I was asked but where have you been?' Die skander' translated into 'the scandal?" I smiled shyly "if only you knew the half of it" and giggled my way out. My tannie(aunt) put her hand on my shoulder as we stood by the fireplace and whispered "its about time they take you with" refering to my dad and them. "You just woke up late"

I guess she means that I have been sleeping a long time and like some fairy tale reality I have been woken?

inbetween

Day one of road trip, ten hours later I find myself somewhere inbetween. Having travelled
From sea through cowboy territory, with a few smoke signals and totem poles while I slept.
Eventualy we were storming smoothley through the icy cold desert, mountains ices like cupcakes with snow.

10 hours , 3 seasons and one hundred inspiring images later I find my self between, or in between
There and here, I love inbetween, just soaking in the sky, andthe sky here in the nothingness is orange.
Highlighting all thoughts, mesmorised by just sitting on the couch with a brothe and sister I'm getting to know.

Place myself on inbetween for the winter night, warmed by fire and laughter.
Waiting with hunger.

road trip jitters

Now this is interesting! For me anyway. Tomorrow I embark on a 7 week road/flight trip with the side of my family
Who is not familiar with me. We could not be more opposite then and a porcupines quill.(Dnt ask me where I came up
With that analagy???) Point is I am going on a holiday with my dad,step mother, half brother and sister. Well since
we have the same blood running through our veins I shiuld call them my brother and sister,we just have different mothers!

Moving along, myself and my brother are packed, dad and step are half packed and sis well she seems to think facebook is the priority.
My brother is angry as he wants to pack the vehicles. He is done doing push ups and is now relieving his stress by wacking golf balls in the dark.
Mmm maybe I should try that, maybe we can knock someone out by mistake.

We leave at 5am tomorrow, I have never really spent much alone time with this family and I can't help feel a little aprehensive. Me beimg
Very liberal with off the board ideas tring to figure out how to adjust my persona to there more sqaure and very conservitive judgemental outlook
On life and people. Me often being one of those people.

Yes a voice tells me, try not to be so different, camoflage, NO.. Just be who I am and let the rest flow, in aperfect world
Just flow, in a ordinary world there are bound to be mishaps and uncomfortable silences or daft oponions, its ok I can live with
The ordinary, as long as I agree to be absolutely me.

Ok, in agreement, holiday here we come, let's enjoy the ride and just be.
Ltr

promise

It's Sunday lunch and the conversation amusing. Listening to the drug habits of my uncles,aunt and mom. I sometimes wander if
being to liberal is a curse, I don't do Conservative so well, I have tried a few times, doesn't fit well with me . So if liberal can be curse like at times, guess I will keep wearing it.

I am in a mad rush. I'm leaving early Tuesday morning, road trip. Of course I have left everything to the very last minute, but stress less or just not at all. I will get done. Why worry when going on an African adventure of sorts.

I remember my favourite book as a child , besides "the place we will go" was of a child travelling all over the world. I wish I could remember the name, I want my own copy. I got lost in this book, always on a journey and the most exciting part of these dreams is that as a childlike adult, I get to live the adventure. Both in theory and practical, a dash of fantasy and BAM i have a holiday destination.

I need to return to the lunch table, hear some more stories of my moms first weed experience, my uncles Valium he took to pass his driving test and so on..
Hey maybe I can learn from this. Maybe not. Maybe I would rather not know. But know I must, wether I choose or not.
So serve me the cupcakes I made for my mom and spoon me some ice cream, I promise not to comment.

Promises, promises

Anonymous

Im guilty of it, are you? we all want to be anonymous at times.
I know I have tried time and time again to be the anon. After many years of really useless stalking, i decided "whats the point" (the anonymous and yes the 'stalker')

Well to all the anonymous I challenge you to come out, take off your mask and wear you face proud. For those that judge, well fuck em! Why hide and be brittle, say what you want and own it, or dissapear.

Well I guess I could be clled a hypocrite since i do sort of have an anonymous blog...

Anyway, I am now sitting with my anonymous family who are drinking heavily not so anonymously, I believe
It is now time to anonymously disspear to my room, emotionally I am going to loose it with them,
Night

slept in

I cooked up some dinner for my grandparents tonight. It was a coconut chilli chicken and cous cous, wewll minus the chilli (they dont eat chilli) Me in the kitchen is
i can imagine a scene. The food comes out , quite tasty, but the kitchen looks like canvas splattered with ingredients and colors.]

I become lost in what I am doing, my brain almost off or shut off. When I was done, cutting, slicing, stiring, spicing, i presented my meal to them and called it "who can find the chicken first" that went down well with them.

Im tired now, honestly I have taken my meds (the 'anti psychotics' to be precise) it slows me down and closes my eyes...

sleepy

hanging on the telephone

Come On... I cant believe what I am allowing to go on in my mind right now. The nerve. With these thoughts I completely get why some believe me to be strange, or wierd, or just plain psycho. Well it goes like this:

I remember over the last four years that I have been 'seeing' my therapist, i have never really asked for her mobile number but I am sure I have hinted on more than one occassion, and well her answer always went like so "I dont give my number out to people" so on one occasion I said, well if I really wanted it Im sure I could find it. Noting to myse;f how ridiculous I must sound, kind of stalkerish maybe? no, you think? So to my dismay I stumbled upon her number on the internet and went balistic, felt rejected, how dare she? Refuse to give me her number when she gives it out to every tom, dick and harry on the interenet. I took this very personally. Not only at how easy it was to get her number but at the mere thought that she must think there is something seriously wrong with me that she refused her number to me but not to the world wide web.

Mmmm okay, maybe this is why. I mean i seem like a stalking regular. Maybe the very same reason I did not write down the number and blocked myself from that page with her digits, is the same reason she did not give me her number.

Yes yes, I am a nut job, in the sense of neediness and a constant want to be cared for, taking a number of my therapist who is not my friend as a sign of utmost rejection. Reminding myself if i did take this number, the likes of me abusing it are probable. As I do go into wierd little whirlwinds of i want attention and I want it yesterday, scenarios. Where I become uncontrollably posessed by the need to have what I can not.

So good bye to your personal number and hopefully hello to a new behaviour where I change my perception in noting that not everything is personal! (hopefully anyway)

you blocking my view

Its been a while since I have been writing my thoughts on this wall. My internet was capped and I had no means to re connect. Thanks to my grand father I am once again, online. There is no way in this little town to rob others of their internet as I would in London. Maybe its a more honest approach?

I am sleeping far to much, I woke at 11 am and back to sleep at 3 pm, was up for a whole 4 hours. Yes some would consider this to be, "depressed", but this I am not. My brain is functioning well and my pheromones seem to be above average. trouble...

I spent a lazy afternoon listening to stories about my grand mothers travels and her first perm, which was forced upon her by an eccentric mother. My gran being just 10 years old, walked out from a 1950's parlour into a 1980's time warp. Thankfully it only lasted a month.

I love listening to her stories, everything seemed so easy back then. By easy I mean simple, or maybe she is just an easy going nana.

I to am traveling soon, and i have the jitters. The closer I get to my deluxe 6 week holidy my mood seems to rise. I found a new drug, traveling.

Moving on and moving out- once I return from my travels in the middle of july, which I hope to update on my wee blog, i will be moving out from my grandparents and into a small place on a vinyard. It is just a moving block. I have been moving around since a girl, I still feel like that same girl, just bigger. So I move to a new bllock, temporarily ofcourse. Waiting and learning until the next stage.

I have learnt in this past week, I control nothing , i go with it, I live with it and I choose to be happy with it. I guess I am being slightly melodramatic when I say I controll nothing, as I have some say in body movements, how to drive my car or make my bed. Also I can alter my decisions and moods to an extent. So rephrase, nothing is in my controll but how I react can be.

I believe it to be true...

Gone to departures, wings beside
Lost to the inbetween , found in seam

Fabric of lust, colours of dew
Only few to be stormed, landed

Or shelved, in pockets , not leather
Never

Airsocks of fancy, person
Dead seemed bleak, alive

Risen from locks of the punished
Only to see, encouraged

Woken to songs of babble
A far away close place,
Of swept back, feed

i see your hearing

I can hear the howling in the wind. Between the sheets of the black sky and the
Dark ground. I want to know?

- see the whiteness in the sky between the lining of the sharp breeze and the orange trees.

I move the dark ground, shifted between the dry rain and the figment of shadowed voices

To move me is easily gifted to love you

I dnot know who you are, but I've seen you between my lashes and your faint whisper

There you were upon my pillow, we met in a visionary frame

Where am I going?

Black&White

It is true the way I have been described so many a time. Where are my greys.

today took me and threw my own to the sky
today shook me and grew beside yesterdays sigh

today hooked me and swung my jacket to the ground
today spooked me and rung my neck to winds sound

heaped up in a pile of lost and found
stripped , pieces were found and lost
ropes and and hair 2 days are bound
become a shadow in tomorrows frost

today do me

balance warns me

I love mothers day, I spoil them rotten.

Im gonna get some sunday lunch left overs now and watch a movie with my grandparents, Yes yes I am literaly the 'perfect' grand child.
I have a slight worry at the moment and I am hoping it's just paranoia, but if i didnt know any better I would be convinced that I am showing warning signs of mania. I cant. Not now, the timing is off! Surely not so soon since I was admitted into the psyche ward, surely not.

I think paranoia, I am basing this suspition on fear. (cant let fear take me down) I am basing it on times of hyper speech or movement. But surely that could just be a simple hyperactive trait that lies in my persona anyway. I have been to carefull for this to happen.

I have had a migrane every day for the last week, and maybe the times it is gone and I am no longer lying in bed, i use my norm time with double the energy and its a movement in comparison.

No I refuse, these are not warning signs, rather fear meshed with paranoid under tones. Just breathe and relax.

Maybe I just have a bit of a beggening winter cold?

Oh how carefull I have to be, meds,diet,breathing,meditation,exewrcise,love,balance.

thats it, keep it balanced.

Im a dreamer

I spend a lot of time thinking. I was just thinking I have strange dreams and sometimes even stranger memories. I have often pondered about how its all connected. I know its connected in some ways. My problem is I often forget which is dream and which is real, that's when things start getting a little jaded.

I sometimes feel I walk in my sleep , i doubt I do, sleep walking through mind maybe. I feel like I am incomplete. A true being with human flesh, a wandering mind and a soul unmatched at times. I walk on dark waters and fly in strange lands, non exist ant to most, to others a freedom.

With all that said, I feel something different today. I have been down and in a refusal to admit it, not wanting to give in to what ever is fragmented in me. There was a moment today, when I became aware of everything around me. As I drove along the coast, I saw an old couple with violet hair to mach, walking along the beach holding hands, it sparked a feeling of calm, I smiled. A little further down the road, I halted my car to allow some very energetic and rowdy kids running across the road, they waved, it sparked a joy in me, I giggled. Then I came across a bunch of very trendy teenagers, huddling around a girl. I slowed down and peered, she was crying and they were all offering comfort, this sparked a feeling of compassion in me. I noticed I was taking notice, my deep sense of non connection was moving away and turning into an energy. A simple sequence of "emotional' witness sparked an energy in me. Although I was not personally involved in these events it churned my gut from nothing to alive.

I returned home and began to feel differently, like a dead tree blossoming. I went about my things, made a mothers day card for my nan, my thoughts were free. I have just realised what ingredient has been missing: dream(not subconscious dreaming) but I am dreaming. I have dreams I lost in all the ... i don't know what, it was lost to me...

and now i have my dreams back, I'm a dreamer, no motives or expectations just my core paving an invisible road, its mellow, its real, I'm dreaming.

Just don't pinch me

Before I forget....

a vague realism

I guess I would say I accomplished what I wanted to do in the last two days: me time. I guess I was unsuccessful at leaving the house (ever). I was successful at cooking three meals by meals I mean 1) Tomato soup. 2) Beef fillet with roasted peppers and baked potato and #) French toast. So yes for me that's cooking. I was successful at watching six dvd. When asked what I watched I cant seem to recall all of them. So i ate, smoked(cigarettes) , watched a hell of a lot of tv and slept in late. I would say I was escaping. I no longer use drugs as a form of escape so staying at home loosing myself to a warm blanket, good food and a movie is my escape.

It was successful, i accomplished my goal, which was not see anyone and just be with myself, next time I will try some silence to.

So that's me, and now here I am back home with my grandparents ready to take on what ever it is that's intended for me to take on. right? what is that....

I have been having these awful scary but meaningful dreams. Such as all the people I love are in dangerous placed and very threatened. In these dreams I always have to save them, but sometimes I cant save them at all, and I wake up crying. Crying and have a splitting headache. Of course this gets me thinking, or rather dissecting these dreams and I guess it all comes down to dreams being a sequence of events combined with memory, sub conscience, feelings and fears(notice how I differentiate feelings from fears) Any way my therapist suggested to me it was a fear of certain people not always being there and my constant need to always keep everyone happy. (she has a point.) There was one thing I cant shake in this dream there is a woman I have never met and she is my wife and we have children, and I have to protect them) well who ever that woman is, if she is to be my wife and we are to meet in my real life, i will be very happy) where can I start looking. no no, I don't look. We meet, someway when I have forgotten. Isn't that normally how it works, wait a minute this is a dream from some other place, and I would want no part in the other parts of this dream, so no "psychic abilities" unwelcome here.

Just me and mine

I only have a few minutes or maybe even seconds to do this as this is an illegal entry.
What I mean bu that is it is my stepmothers computer and she forbids me of its use, as if I am some sort of hacker. I guess she is afraid I will 'hack' into her mail(mmm what is she hiding?)

Well forget the mysteries of the step moms paranoia and let me focus for a few lines.

I am back from my trip and in to my realm of movement of mind with body and soul. Today I have decided to take a vacation from a vacatiom. I will be spending the next two days, staying by myself, with my different personas as my guests, I will cook delicious food, sit by an imaginary fire as i sip my soup in this winter cold. I will make prints from much discarded images, I have left to be filed. No more I will set them free.

I will watch movies of my choice and the choice of each persona that chooses me.

I am looking forward to the next two days, no internet, screened calls and self stimulation of enjoying my own company.

I will be back on friday, rested and ready to share myself with others once again.

brown coated hometown

So here I am visiting my home town and am happy that is all I am here: a visitor. Its always challenging being here and everytime I come here I swear I will never return. Somehow I always find my way back.

I wander if heritage is enogh to keep me in such a dull place. I fail to see any positives of this place I was born and bred, It could be i just put blinders on, as to refuse to connect in anyway.

Connection of here is not up to me, for history seems to keep me grounded or rather wounded. I look out the window and the view is faded, everything brown, the grass, the houses, the sky: me.

So i found myself being depressed and started thinking, there is nothing wrong with here. Its ok to be a visitor in a place i once called home, If I take the blindersoff I can see there is infact beauty in everything.

History is just the way we have been conditioned to behave, just a particle of true form, but absolutely not true. Take history and thought process away and we become what we truly are. So with this, I unstrap my blind fold of hetred for 'home' and use both concept, imagination and feeling.

There are pros to everything, How cvan I forget the authentic of upbrining, and experiances not only bad are just that experiances. They dont make you or I. I have family here, that are dear to me and more than just heritage, they are past,current and future. They may not be me, but they are part of me. And If I were not in this hometown I apparently despise I would not have that experiance of part of.

So now when I go look out the window, it may be brown, but it will be a brown I will not always be able to see, It will become romantic and just a part of being what makes up particles of me. I dont have to make it the blood that pumps my heart, but I canjust accept it as a now moment.

So I know home is not neccesarily where I am from, not a search forwhere I belong,just a sence of who I am is enough of home for me, even if I am only at the foundatuion of that home.

I 'found' myself in Africa

I have been out of range for more than a week and am starting to show signs of withdrawal. A withdrawal from being unable to enter my world of blog. I have found myself dreaming of Internet connections and portals to keyboards. I now have the privilege of using my cousins computer. In his room surrounded by the periodic table, Dinosaur models and a mass Lego collection.

I have been in the wild so to speak, away in the African bush. I did attempt to climb a water tower to find an Internet connection(from old school land poles) I was unsuccessful. In sat at the top and took in the view: miles and miles of orange sky, a never ending bush and thorn trees. A soundtrack of thousands of bird species and the calls of the lion. Reminding myself I am amongst the untamed and feeling untamed myself(always) so,I carefully made myself down the tower to the other humans.

I will try and highlight my last week in one entry...

The day after my birthday I drove up into the bush veld with my grandparents, tired and unprepared for the hilarious evening ahead. My Grandpa and I trying to braai(barbeque) all I remember I remember was smoke in my eyes, us dancing round the fire trying to turn corn.

My first night alone:

In a beautiful room, copied as a ruin, was challenging. Although placed faraway from anywhere and in the middle of nowhere, my paranoia found a swap of fear for intruders to fear of animals intruding.After hours of scanning my room for snakes I fell asleep with ease but was soon woken by the grunting of a lion. Asa there is no fencing round our lodge and so close to all I got thinking. Surely if sharks sometimes attack humans surely then it is possible for a lion to come and have a snack off me in my bed. RIDICULOUS! I fell asleep to the sound of rain washing out the lions call.

WALKING:

My GP wanted to go walking. I politely declined reminding him where we were and sure I would go if he had a rifle, he did not, we heard later that a family close by had been mauled by lions, hence no walk.
I wander if animals observe us, suss me out before they gift us to observe them?

HIGHLIGHTS:

(1) A large part of my family arrived and yes of course there were the fireworks of a family feud, I'm sure the arguing and its loudness gave the animals a sound to fear, probably more wild then the wild, soon our tears died down.

(2) 'stealing' the open air land rover , me the driver, my mom, uncle and potential step sister my passengers. We we went for a joyride in the bush, I felt a part of. As I drove my mom filmed my uncle in a yellow dress pretending to be a game ranger and my step mimicking it all. It was funny and thrilling.

(3) Something that will live in me is the day we came across some very angry lioness, ready to kill, very Hungary. It was dusk and then dark, we had no light and no rifle and my potential step father shut off the vehchle. I cant describe what rush of fear held me down this night, i was twisted by it. I expressed that I had a bad feeling, my 'step sister' and I held on to each other as we tried to follow the green eyes.I could not see behind me and the cats became aggressive, almost vindictive, taunting us, i could See the hunt in their eyes. One was ready to pounce, another circling us as the other watched from the bush. I could not help but feel hunted and panicked, we soon left.
(strange I have no fear of elephants with in reach of me, as if they were to charge, it would be like being beaten up. A lion however would be ripped into pieces: no)

Alas the drama of my mind. Later the same evening something sprinted at me, I just saw eyes, thought it was a lion, I ran so fast and got away to see it was not a lion, but a Genet, the size of a house cat. All laughed at Me, including me.

I relaxed and breathed in my surroundings and addressed my fears. I know now what I fear or have feared most my whole life and like most people that is death. I fear nothing in between(well besides rejection and stuff) I learnt this when I feel a sense of belonging, from that I learnt to to take this sense of belonging with me and then to myself I will always belong.

As far as my fear, its just that, a paranoid sense of unknowing.

It seems I learnt more in the bush then just the basic survival of me.

flight of the chauffers

I went from practically feeling like a stowaway on a cargo plane to some character from gossip girl.
As I walked up what seemed to be the smallest plane I have been on, I couldn't help but notice the wings were
Smaller then the plane and the engines looked like tennis raquets, also they were brown instead of siulver or matt grey.
The interior of the plane came from 50 years back and the seats were as small as a normal chairs cushion shaped like a box.

As I have developed some flight fear over the years , this plane - was convinced : a deathtrap with tiny wings and cardboard seats.
I sat in the middle of two very large men and therefore had my elbows on my lap, but I somehow think even if they were two kids I
Would still have my elbows on my knees. As the pilot turned the engines on everything shook and thr gritting sound almost comotised me.
No no no , visions of fire and explotions I shut myself up and calmed myself down. Some meditation and positive self talk the flight
Brought me safely to my destination.

After a cramped 2 hours feeling like I was hiding in a crate on a ship, I got my luggage n I walked outside and for the firdt time in my life
There was my name on a board, held by a man in a suit. I had my own chaffeur, sitting in some new mecedes on my blackberry, looking out the window
Thinking "oh my god, I look like a spoilt little rich kid!" Well it was amusing playing that role for a while. Funny.

Before I boarded my plane today I made sure to see my therapist. Seriously go without her for 2 weeks, no!
The session was something a bit new, I was very animated, my hands everywhere, but focused and she is not indefferent
She is supportive: and that is a comfort. Its agreed I am finding a recovery that works for me, she did of course refer to me as an a cultural
Addict(what ever that is?) I took from it that sometimes some do not fit in to the programme, and I can successfully find , and positivley look forward
To this working for me.

Todays yesterday, tomorrows today!

carefree to me

I just feel great today, it seems modern gypsy still applies to me, but I feel amazing.
It could have something to do with the fact that I'm getting on a plane tomorrow and its carrying me to
A birthday holiday!

Before I know it I will be in. The bush amongst the wild. Wild in the wild as the wild.

I'm not going to say much as I have said what's most important, I'm happy and strong , grateful and for a few weeks I
Am completely free.

shafted but still shifting

I bam fed up with the brainwashing. Stop! I am not easily brain washed and I stick to what I believe,
I am not going to attend an AA meeting because its what ”should" be, yes according to
The councelors and the recovering addicts and the statistics. Frankly there needs to be space for new statistics and
Wether I comply to this program or not, I am still in recovery.

Yes I am a little angry. I am passionate about healing and learning, I get stuck everytime I'm told "mm, yes but 1e think you should do this."
Let me think what this means and polietly answer "but that is working for me" then ofcourse
I will be accused of doing it my way or thinking I'm special and different.
Another frankly there is always more than one way and its not about me doing it my way , its about me
Finding the best way that suits me.

Oh and another frankly "YES, we are all special and different!"

To be shunned by other addicts, correction,recovering addicts, just because I don't want to comply to what is offered, seems strange as just like any other addict trying to make way and stay clean
So am -, I am just choosing to do it without the fellowship, it does not make me less than or more at risk of relapse(as many are brainwashed to believe)
No need to treat me differently , I won't judge your choice to go to a meeting, so please don't judge mine not to as
At the beginning of each morning and the end of each day, we still have the same commenality(we are addicts,changing, one seconcond at atime)

No I won't go to a meeting today, but I will do what I have to to stay clean.

Can't we all just get along?

lazy sundays

I hate it when people ask me what I want for my birthday, I would love to answer, "well a G11 canon pls?"
Really I answer " I dint know, love" it seems I am a love addict. Gifts for me are loved when personnal, if someone gave me a piece of
Paper with a doodle I would be happy. Give me what feels right to you and alsoc if u don't want to rather don't
I'm happy with company. Enough said there.

I had a stress free day

Walked, had a braai, read the paper, worked on my module, made jelly as my mom made cupcakes and
Watched CoCo Chanel, and loved every detail.

I love days like these: itsleft me feeling lucky in company and shared experiance of cupcakes and jello.
Sure the cupcaked were blue with purple icing, but the great part was they were made for me.
I sometimes feel spoilt in love. The clashing colors of jellow to match the cake, being yellow and cherry red,can't imagine what colours are
Churning in my tummy, but its some kind of magic.

Stress free and zoned on the couch with not a worry, I can get used to this!

drunk and dusted

You know that feeling when you laughing and you not sue why cos you feel like crying!
Well I just found my self screaming, being unsure as to if this is funny or sad unfortunately my anger got the better of me
And scared the rest away!

I was laying in bed watching a movie as my uncles and mom boozed it up downstairs.
A bit like when I was young, the kids in the room well the
'adults'soclialise, beggening to think I was born an adult and am groing into a child?
Really engrosed in my film, I heard the music go up and then there were my mom and uncle, parading in front of me, dancing and singing.
Well I lost it.

I screamed at them almost barked and bit and they went running out. I locked the door and finished my moviem
Feeling guilty as I do so easily I went down to apologise. It seems no apology was needed as they forgot.
I'm trying to pin point my agression, think I know: yes something to do with how my mom just demanded I turn off my light at 10 30, hello
Mom I'm 30 and you're drunk.

*it does not bother me when others drink and carry on unless I am in some direct line of attack, wethere its ridicule,orsmothering
Or just to much of anything. Reaaly do what u want, just dnt include me when I am clearly
Not in the mood!

But hey , I can also be a moody *****

motion sick

One of those days when I am just not in the mood. I am fed up with all these 'professionals' in my life,
This rehab out of rehab. I have a shrink who medicates me and sees that the progran of th AA/NA does not
Allow for much individuality. I am in agreement.

I was then asked by my counslor, who I only happen to see twice a week, she asked me my dreaded and most avoided subject,
"Are you going to meetings?" , "no ofcourse" was my answer, "well how and why are you staying clean?"
I was direct and firm and looked her in the eyes , the answer simple and strong, "because I want to!"
To me that is more believable then me telling her that I'm doing this because of ...

Now as I have said beforen yes this fellowship works for some, and it has been proven and blah blah blah, I'm happy that that's what is
Working for them and clearly something else is working for me. It called a blance of belief.

Instead od these folks spendidng so much time trying to convinse me of thgier way, surely working with something that works for me as
Opposed to working with what works for me, I will never pretend that it works if it does not.

Tommorrow I am 6 months clean, I pretend to be modest but inside I am truly proud. And I am particulary proud that I have put in the work,
I continue to put in the work, even when so much has gone wrong, so much is right.
I have done this by honouring what works for me, with the guidence of beauty. - will go into this tomorrow,
For now I know, live , breather and feel what guides me. It not a programme or a person, it just is!


I'm now sitting next to my mom as we house sit a mansion that feels like a cruise ships, as if we floting on the ocean, I sometimes even feel sea sick,
My mom is sipping on her vodka convincing me that we have identical noses. And they perfect! Slightly irritated at her tipsiness, I humour her, and am 'confinced'
Its not that bad , eventhough I see har sadness, I remind myself I know her sadness(well)

So here : mommy and me, just stting on our boat of moving souls on the gifts sea.

un love

Every treatment centre I have been to , I have always fallen "in love" with my counselor. My true love has always remained my therapist.

I know this love is not real. I become besotted with there kind, fascinated at what they do. I reveal almost every part of my, psyche,being, i deconstruct my soul and they help me reconstruct. In a way I am loving myself through loving them. Sometimes my love for them is really just intrigue.

I have flirted with many a shrink, seduced many a therapist(weather by emotional attachment or lust I would like to imagine) Never do they really take the bait and often it is just that way because I know it's safe. Why not flirt with the very thing I can not have. For if I can not have it, I can not be hurt.

What happens if i can have what I want. What if I am my complete self and unexpectedly one of these beauties falls for me. No never did I think that could be a reality. It has indeed become the wanted is the hunted and now the hunted is the wanted and the roles change over.

If it is there, can I truly love a person I trusted as my... I don't know anymore. There was a time I believed I could and then slowly I noticed I didn't know if this person was my professional,my lover or friend? My head spun out. I look at you and see beauty, i look at you and I love, but there is a voice that sometimes screams at me: this is not right, you can not be. Unravelled layers of love and doubt, then deceit.

I don not purposely walk to you and open my arms. I think what has happened is I have lost. For we could just be chasing an idea, I think love for me is intrigue.

A client falls "in love" with a counselor. This is her pattern, she loves. She opens every door and trusts her councilor to walk through and help build. In the doors the councilor walks and opens her doors, they become entwined. The client becomes obsessed with this, a councilor to love me? Confusion rides the client through, they elope emotionally, touching mouths imaginatively. Due to ethical reasons her path changes, the councilor disappears. The clients life falls apart, she can not handle the loss. First her councilor,then her friend and finally her lover.

The client partially accepts things as they are after weeks of tears. The councilor who is councilor no more calls: The client is stunned, and naturally falls into the sway of things, thinking she wants this,knowing she wants that, things are clouding her mind. She falls again. She still talks as if it were her councilor, but feels cared for and wanted. She natural turns that to want.
Soon the client who is me, realises I know!

My being wants to be cared for, thrives on being loved, cant unlove once I've started. The advice been given by my group of geese, have sang: A relationship started in doubt can never.... I think, and I talk and I explore my feelings, all seems lost but know its not.

Is love just intrigue?

I am not ready for any kind of love.


actually if i look at me, naked now as I am: faceted by what is real: naked as in all layers wrapped off, I can see I am beautiful. I Strive to love myself as I am and often fall. So I will do what I do best, pick myself up and keep moving.

i keep

Could be? That eveything has just suddenly gone silent.

A mind that works over time,over play, over kill, now dormant.

Thoughts piercing even when asleep. I weeped.
I find myself at a calm standstill reap. I reaped.

This might last only a wink,
Tick tock I cant think

a point in time that has elapsed with empty peace.


















I like that blank piece.

The sky is not falling

Today I remember the voice of Chicken Little from my childhood, "The sky is falling" My world today is similar to this story, except I am not a chicken and my 'friends' are not farm animals.

One still beautiful morning I was drinking my coffee, staring at the calm sea. The sun came up from over the mountain as I hummed happily to myself.
Suddenly a voice came down and hit me right in the gut, bringing up old feelings. I dropped my cigarette and looked up. I could see the shadow of my stepmother and feel my heart go numb. Unaware she had dropped an "acorn on my head" unravelling in my heart, feelings still carried through from a harmful seated place.

"Oh fuck" I thought, "The sky is falling! I must run and tell my therapist" As i drove past there house, towards town, I called my mom who was working. "Why, 'chicken little', whats wrong with you?" asked my mommy.
"oh fuck mom, the sky is falling,and I'm going to tell my therapist!"
"Oh,'chicken little'what do you mean?"
"I saw it, I heard it, I smelt it,I felt it with my very own eyes,mind,heart and ears" I answered.
"I am here for you" my mom said calmly.

You get the point...
Basically I spent the weekend at my dad, A whole lot of stuff came up that I don't understand. I understand I can not change who they are or what is said to me , or even what they think of me. I just cant understand why certain things are so hurtful and I am helpless. I am not helpless over how I react to these things, BUT today was one of those days I felt The sky was falling, the ground was sinking and rocks were been thrown at me from the ground.

The chicken little saga, is that how I reacted , I was flustered, spending my day phoning my nearest and dearest, spitting out my frustration, hurling my hurt at the wrong people, I was angry, I brought everyone along for this ride. Angrily "why are they like this and why do they do this and why would they treat me in that way" (THE SKY WAS FALLING: and I was screaming it out to all)

I stopped at what I now refer to as my "parole officer" being my councilor. I got angry with her, telling her I'm sick of 'them' (my councilor and shrink) one tells me to do this , the other that and I become confused. With venom in my speech, I said "why don't the two of you just print out a list, telling me which books I can read,which movies I can watch,what people I can see etc, so that I can meet your bloody standards!" "Where does that anger come from ?" she asked, "The sky is falling, The sky is falling"

Home sweet home at my grandparents and where I am very happy to be. It started out well, I spoke of my weekend and then it happened again, those old feelings from childhood of not being welcomed and never understood, sometimes even heavily punished for being 'special and different' , yup, heaven came crashing and "the sky was falling"

phew, and then just like chicken little, after the fox tried to eat him and his friends, my fox being my mind going all negative on me and brandishing me to rocks and mud. All I was thinking, I need to tell my therapist, I want to tell her now. Things turned, grandparents suggested a lovely walk by the sea. I moaned and said no and called my mom, she laughed, 'that's okay, don't go for a walk, just sit with yourself and soak in self pity. So like chicken little I screamed once more "the sky is falling" I walked down the lane,through the dust roads,past the green sea,around the thistle trees,and back to the car and up the lane to home. Brought in the garbage bin and sat outside calmly with me, To my grand parents delight I forgot all about telling my therapist the sky is falling. To there delight, i no longer believed the sky was falling.

Today this was me.