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.

I apologise to any ostrich, penguin or dodo who is perhaps reading this, but the freedom of flight, of being able to choose a destination, packing your bags and pinging towards it at a rate of wind is a bird’s best attribute. I wanted to be a bird. An albatross, in fact. I would never need to stop. I could see the entire world on the length of my enormous wings, never having to go through passport checks and body checks and Czech checks. I’d be able to fly, land, see, study, marvel, wonder, ponder, think, write and leave. Wonderful.

The problem with being human though? You need a stack of Greenbacks to buy an aeroplane ticket to fly to Berlin or Santiago. You can’t go as freight or as another’s souvenir. You can’t just board your own wings, point to the sky and jump, praying that you’ll suddenly defy Newton’s laws for a few seconds. Nope. And that’s ultimately where the “what would the world be without money?” debate comes in.

In all honesty, if I had the time and none of the pressure of working after I finally get my degree, I would love to journet my way through Africa, with the clothes on my back, a camera in my and and a notepad tucked inside my pants pocket. What an experience that must be! Us, Capetonians, are so sheltered in the Westernised ways the Europeans left behind for us. We forget that we’re in the most culturally rich continent, forgetting the wild, untamed wilderness of the Serengeti and Congo rainforest. The sleeping volcanic peaks of Mount Kenya and Kilimanjaro and the man-made Pyramids of Giza. All this we have, on out doorstep! If I had the chance, I would discover Africa first. After all, it’s where I live.

But, I guess, if I were an albatross, a long, lofty albatross, I wouldn’t need to plan my future. There’d be no wallet, no degree, no time. I could just flap through life, watching each sunrise and sunset a thousand heads above land.

- reddevilandy10

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.

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.

It was Shane’s 21st birthday party, one of my best friends, and well, it was incredible. The theme was Brazilian/festive so you can imagine how gorgeous (the ladies) everyone looked. Granted, the night was all about Shane turning a very important page in the book of his life, but it probably was one of the most important nights for all of the friends in our own little way and indeed the group as a whole. My good friend Sarah-Jane, who I have mentioned in previously in this blog, said something that really made me giggle but think: “Your friends are like an episode of 90210.” Okay, minus the glitz and poodles and shit and well, yeah, it’s 90210, or 7800…

But that gets me to my main point…

We all have some kind of internal agenda with one another. Yes, I have my own issues and God knows I am trying to deal with them with every ounce of blood that flows within me. I also know that I do add to the politics in the group, as if the group may as well be called the UN, but the amazing thing is how we all have our own turn to play bad guy and the others the air marshals trying desperately to diffuse the already dangerous and tiresome situation.

I hate seeing this unnecessary infighting, especially when it’s a personal, one-on-one dilemma and it’s brought into the group which completely rips us into what can only be described as two  opposing camps on the Jerry Springer show.

I hope tonight was a reminder to everyone that friendship is a shitload more important that this pointless game of Taser-tag. If anything, by me being stone sober and everyone else completely smashed, I saw what incredible friends we all are. We’ve stayed together through high school, through college – even though we attend different colleges in all parts of the country, and now, finally, the dawn of our real lives. We’ve been through a lot. And I’d hate to see it all go down for something so puny. And I’d like to take this moment to say sorry to everyone for being so fucking self-centred and narcissistic for caring only about my feelings. I guess all I needed was your guys’ support but failed to see that it was right there all along. Thank you.

Yes, well, at any rate, the party was insane. It trumped New Year’s by a mile. I mean, it’s nearly 05h00 and I’m still awake, writing. Or typing. Whatever.

As for Shane, happy 21st birthday my brother. Welcome to the club!

- reddevilandy10

The structure is constructed with corrugated zinc sheets, painted in lovely recurring turquoise and white pattern, almost mirroring the sea lying just a few meters away. Opening the gate, rose bushes and fuchsias and lavender fronds wave you through the narrow Hobbit entrance. It feels all too surreal… even more so when you reach the lounge. Twin glass doors lets the morning sunshine stream through the wood-floored cottage and the entire False Bay coastline is set before you like a gourmet buffet dinner. Stepping through the doors leads you to the stoep, where a rush of cool ocean air jumped on me this evening, like an old friend hugging my overheating body. I sat on a comfy chair and rested my elbows on its companion table. And that’s all I did.

Basically, for most of the following half-hour, I just sat there, sipped on orange juice and watched. I watched the treacle of ocean slowly roll in, the mottled boats bobbing lazily up and down in response. The larger, untamed waves slapping against the breakwater where fishermen we’re standing and casting and reeling, constantly. The bustle of the nearby restaurants and the traffic flowing up and down the Main Road and Boyes Drive, with the occasional train siren adding some modern drama to the pleasantly rustic scene. The cool air blowing my hair across my face keeping the sweltering temperatures away from my mind. My thoughts were free and I, for once, was happy.

Okay, not completely happy, especially after the minor vehicle ordeal I had gone through a few minutes prior involving a very steep hill and a few large Bavarian cars…

But, I was content.

Strangely enough, I had a few daydreams around this particular house. Scenes which I have never really pictured before today. The cornered braai area has amazing views of the sea and is sheltered by a granadilla-vined roof winding between a wooden frame. I pictured my friends having a blast there, slow-grilling fish and sipping beers, sharing memories, snapping photographs, laughing uncontrollably, smiles as wide as the horizon, glances of appreciation and happiness. Happiness. Intense happiness.

You know, I suppose any old place will do. Even my residence room in Grahamstown is an amazing place to live, but Kalk Bay… there’s just something fetchingly arcadian about it all. I don’t know. I see myself living there in the not too distant future…

And yes, I know I said I may never return to Cape Town in yesterday’s post. In all honestly, I was speaking complete and utter horse-shit.

Anyway, I’m off to hopefully dream about a future house of mine, perhaps fitted with its own red couch.

- reddevilandy10

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.

People around me say that I am, quote on quote, “moody, emotional and negative.” And these are my friends and family, mind you. Those are characteristics of Me. Sure, I am moody, but who doesn’t have more than one bouquet of moods on show in one day? I am emotional, but I would rather be alive and feel everything than soul-dead and not even feel apathy. And yeah, I’m negative, but have you seen the news lately? Or on a more personal level, when last has anything positive happened directly to me? It’s been a while, I can tell you. And no, I’m not ungrateful, I think I count my blessings like a mother duck her ducklings. If you want me to change, you can, in the most offensive Scouse accent imaginable, fuck right off.

Anyway, in more current news, I go back to Grahamstown in about two weeks time. Nervous? Sad? Anxious? No way. Excited? Eager? Ready to go? I have my bags packed. I’m sick of sitting here watching people making incredibly obvious mistakes. It’s utterly heart-breaking.

Cape Town gets smaller and smaller the longer you stay here. Sure it is the most amazing city this side of the world but personally, in my situation, it is better for me to leave and return when I can. I don’t know… perhaps after college I may even never return.

*Post title credited to the late French poet, Paul Valéry.

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.

My dad really has a way with words… in the sense that he gets people (or more specifically, me) going very, very quickly. I can’t help but be facetious when the opportune moment arises, and this in turn, creates so much friction that we’d probably spontaneously combust if we got to close to one another. Anyway, that’s not really worth the huffing and puffing right now.

As I had noted last night, I’ve done a lot of thinking this past weekend. Don’t you love those moments in life where you were so close, you could reach out and touch it (whatever it may be) and just at that clichéd moment, have the earth crumble away at your feet, plunging you 18,000 feel below that very point you were standing two not-so-shabby minutes ago? In 2011, there were an onion bag full of those moments. I seriously hate to wallow in the past’s putrid waters, but I just can’t seem to get this fucking stink out of my life. Fuck.

Sorry.

Getting back to today…

Much better! Today, I got to day-care my favourite little lady, I asked another, much older lady, out for coffee and I saw another lady who, I have realised after much soul searching, is still and will forever remain a huge part of my life.

It’s strange how life can never pivot on your own two relatively sturdy feet but must always twirl it’s sultry yet deadly tentacles around another being, who holds all power to your emotional well-being. Strange.

Anyhow, I guess one could say that I have conquered my demons regarding this former lady. Still, no amount of wishing could really change things for us all to be divinely happy. There will always be someone who can’t fit under the umbrella when the rain pummels the earth. There will always be someone who gives up the last piece of cake for another, if not less hungry, person. Unfortunately, there will always be someone more happy than the next.

But that is life, isn’t it?

Isn’t happiness valuable only because there is sadness?

Whatever the answer to that may be, I’d much rather be happy. And right now, I am, but for some reason, that umbrella, at this moment, is just a tiny bit too small for two and a half people.

Have a good night all!

- reddevilandy10

Anyhow, in a stark contradiction to this film’s bizarre humour, my mood is rather more contemplative. This week has given me a lot to think about. Anyway, I’m so incredibly tired…

Goodnight world.

- reddevilandy10

SUMMER VACATION EDITION

Keeping up this one-post-a-day thing is really tough work, especially when sleep seems the more logical option. Nevertheless, it must be said, that yesterday was amazing, albeit very tiring.

My friends and I had a little 2e Nuwe Jaar roadtrip planned. A drive to the little fishing village of Churchhaven, in the West Coast National Park, was the initial plan. But upon arrival, we learnt that to get into the Park, we would need to pay R32 per person… and there we’re about 12 of us. And that wouldn’t do. So, we got back into our cars and drove and extra 40km or so to the larger town of Langebaan, about 130km North of Cape Town.

It is a gorgeous little settlement with its eponymous lagoon lying sleepily beside it like a huge blue blanket. We chose what seemed to be a popular beach, although it seemed rather deserted due to its sheer length. The sand may not have been powder soft in places but it made a great makeshift football field which my friends and I had fun running across.All day. And it got hot. Very hot.

We left Cape Town at about 9am, raining, cold and miserable and got to Langebaan at 1pm, greeted by welcoming rays of sunshine and a sea breeze which soon became the saviour from the direct heat of the sun. If that wasn’t relief enough, we spent nigh on two hours in that warm lagoon water, just cool enough to quench our roasted bodies. It was so refreshing, the brave four – Gabi, Tasha, Bevan and I – didn’t want to get out.

It was an awesome day. Even though I have this golden brown sheen which resembles the makings of a severe sunburn peel, even if the car we we’re travelling in had it’s fair share of mechanical difficulties and even though it took nearly two hours just to leave Cape Town, it was a magical day.

As we left Langebaan, the sun set over the water as if to wave us goodbye. I couldn’t help but think there was something spiritual behind it, like putting a proverbial seal-of-approval on our friendship circle. I remember sitting in that car, my friends bouncing up and down to an old Ja Rule track and watching the dark red sun slowly creep under the horizon and thinking: “For once, I can honestly say, that I am really, truly happy right now.”

SUMMER VACATION EDITION

After what can only be explained as one epic party, I am finally in my much-missed bed. Last night got rather raucous and frenetic. After all, it was a farewell (or more a “good riddance”, I suppose) to 2011, a year that has left many people smothered by pain and sorrow. The new year though, promises to be one of the most important on record, not just for the entire planet, politically and economically, but personally, inside the homes of those who make the world what it is.

2012 is what I like to call a transitional year; A year that sees many people in my life embark on potentially life changing challenges and new endeavours. For me, this will be my last undergrad year, a year that I need to academically excel at if I wish to study further. Some of my friends are in the same situation, beginning new relationships and seeing the unwelcomed decay of broken ones. It will ultimately be a year, for many, for recovery.

I stayed up to watch the sunrise this morning and what a truly gorgeous beginning to a new year it was! Even though I was hungover (and now, fully recovered) and incredibly tired, it was still stunningly beautiful. In a way, the sun it’s a metaphor for life. Even if it did set on another year of our lives, it has brought with it a new year, full of opportunities and memories just waiting to be made. It is our responsibility to enjoy the sunshine of the good times and to stand up to the intimidation of the darkness. I know that this will be the year that I take this to heart and really try to live with a smile on my face and appreciation in my heart for everything in my life.

I wish you all an amazing year ahead!

- reddevilandy10

Don’t be a dumbass. Set realistic goals, if you can even call them that. Rather, let’s use the term “lifestyle changes”.

We all have those really pointless, potentially fatal habits – you know what I’m talking about. Oh, you don’t? Here’s a few:

- Changing lanes or turning without signalling. Basically driving like an utter retard.

- Driving a full 500m from your house to begin your jog around the park.

- Purposefully murdering spiders who actually eat those asshole mosquitoes and cockroaches.

- Paying for everything except your water bill with that nightly-abused credit card.

- Walking perceptively drunk like a new-born deer in densely populated public places like the mall.

- Forgetting to teach your three-year-old toddler to not pick and flick in any restaurant. Even Chicken Licken.

Can you identify yourself in any of these categories? This post is for you then.

So, instead of burying that box of cigarettes or swearing to go to gym every day or even, I don’t know, saving rabid puppies from the side of the highway, change the things that make people want to kill you. Do you really want to be the inspiration for the next Quentin Tarantino edition of CSI? Didn’t think so.

Next time you write down “Lose ten pounds before Summer”, graciously receive a slap and change it to “I will not drive like an asshole”. Who knows, maybe you’ll won’t be murdered in your sleep by the female you cut in front of in the queue at Macy’s 75% off sale.