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.