If I Were A Bird…

I’m not sure what’s more important nowadays: a smile on your face or money in your pocket. I think the world is losing its sense of what is important and what is necessary.

I’ve had this dream, since I was about 16, of travelling the world, soaking up all its culture and cuisine, its joyful festivities and blood-curdling uprisings and mirroring all I’ve experienced onto a sheet of feint ruled blank paper. That hasn’t really changed. But back then, I dreamt of doing it as a bird. You know, a completely impartial passenger on Earth’s non-stop carousel. Strange, I know. I wasn’t a normal child. Anyway, the reason for choosing a bird was this creature’s one incredible ability – flight.

Untitled: Post #273

Nearly three years ago, I met this girl out of pure chance. It was rather miraculous. I saw her and instantly knew I wanted to meet her. Later on I found out that she wanted to get to know me too. The unfortunate thing though, I realised just how little I really knew about her.

Tonight, after insomnia had forced my eyes open, I did some faffing around on the internet, and more specifically Facebook. Just a few minutes ago, I found her old profile page which I thought was taken down about a month ago. Apparently, it’s still there and I’m looking at it right now. There’s only three photographs of me and her out of something like a thousand.

I’m asking myself: Do I have the right to even miss her?

I have this picture of us taken in Grahamstown, both drinking from a jug through straws. It’s stuck to the back of my bedroom door. I always see it. Always. And it always makes me want to travel back to the time we were that close, and things were different.

Somehow I feel that I don’t deserve to miss her. But I do.

I’m sorry.

‘Born Into This’

Warning: This post contains, what some readers may consider, strong language.

What can I really say about tonight that hasn’t been said in this blog before? Well, nothing. Except that it’s pretty much the previous 260-odd posts rolled into one small one. The main difference, I guess, is that it’s not entirely about me. In fact, it’s barely about me.

The Little House on the Hill

I was in Kalk Bay earlier this evening. For the uninitiated, it is a small suburb about 35km South of Cape Town’s city centre. I drove my sister to the house she’ll be taking care of for the next two weeks or so. I’ve been there before, but today it seemed like an entirely different building.

‘At Times I Think, At Times I Am’

Warning: This post contains, what some readers may consider, strong language and offensive content.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m just being a self-centred, ungrateful bastard for wanting more than I currently have. I’m not talking solely about material goods here though. Yes, I suppose I am quite materialistic, but more important things like happiness, love and friendship will always come first. But I haven’t been genuinely happy in a while and I’ve forgotten what love feels like. So, in that sense, I guess I don’t have much after all.

The Blessing and the Curse

Warning: This post contains, what some readers may consider, strong language.

Today was uncommonly long day and, as per usual, I failed to have any kind of notable sleep. More unusual though, I have a shirt tan, bangle tan, fringe tan and, believe it or not, an arm-across-my-tummy tan. I look more like an éclair than a human being. In any case, I still enjoyed my day… well, up until about 20 minutes ago, that is.