Remembrance
I used to love the rain, the sound of it on the rooftops, the smell of the wet earth after it… (more…)
The Days That Define Our Friendships
Warning: This post contains strong language.
Sooo…
What can I say about today… (more…)
The Realisation of Reality
“In certain trying circumstances, urgent circumstances, desperate circumstances, profanity furnishes a relief denied even to prayer.“
- Mark Twain
Apologies for the last post readers. My blog is oftentimes used as a proverbial wall that my fist is furiously aimed towards. I’m calm now, I think. Well, at this moment, I’m calm.
For the most part of that post, I was upset… but the other, I was merely speaking for the millions of people who actually do feel the same way, every day, but say nothing. Sometimes all someone needs is a reassuring arm on their shoulder, accompanied with the words, “I understand.” There is a possibility that I have grown too attached to too many people, making traveling to and fro a headache, heartache and utter nightmare. I’m practicing letting go, but it’s not without its pitfalls and sinkholes.
My rest last night was, for the most part, spastic; every-so-often being interrupted by a dream. I hate how I struggle to remember my dreams the following day – I believe they actually shed some light as to what is truly rotting my core. I know though, at least one of them was about her. I guess I’m terrified of waking one morning to find that I’ve lost her, all traces and evidence of her ever being in my life vanished. That is my worst fear.
I fear it is slowly coming true. The longer I am here, the larger the gap between us becomes. There is nothing I can do about it. Nothing. It is what it is. Things happen as they must. I just have a hard time coming to terms with it.
Punch-Drunk Love
“Drunk blogging. Be warned.
I love you. I see your face for the first time in ages and I’m smitten. I think you’re the most beautiful…”
This is what was on my laptop when I booted it this afternoon – presumably written last night after I came home. I still feel that way, even though I am pretty hungover. Getting drunk is such a bad idea. You divulge information that you wouldn’t ever in a million years if you were sober. Later that night, last night, after we came home from Springboks, I sent her a message, saying how I’d love her to be in my arms. I don’t know if I made a complete ass of myself or if it really made her think about my role in her life. Whatever it is, I feel that she knows how I feel.
She is so gorgeous, really. So, so gorgeous. I love looking into those big, immersive eyes. That long sleek hair. Those curvaciously defined legs. I even like her voice – it just calms me. It inspires me. I want to listen to it all day. It makes me write extensive yet totally pointless blog posts such as this one.
You can imagine then how it upsets me to hear that she is spending a lot of time with people who bring her no joy. Maybe temporary happiness, but no joy. She looked so sad last night. Yes, she told me it was because she has a lot on her mind. She needn’t feel like that. She can be happy. There are people who would do anything to make her happy. I want to make her happy.
Obviously, that’s a little difficult because of the distance issues, but screw that. If she’s willing to try I’m willing to try too.
I want to try. I wish she’d tell me that she loves me. I know she does. But will it ever be something romantic? Was Pringle just an incident, or did it mean something? I think it did. Well, it meant something to me anyhow.
Anyway, let’s speak about last night in general.
It was awesome. Springboks – how I’ve missed you. It was the first time I had been inside that place since… well, I can barely remember. I can barely remember much about last night too. It was so great! I had so much to drink. I feel so hungover now. But I just wish I had something else to smile about.
I apologize – my language is not very readable today. I feel awful, hungover, sluggish, tired and all that. So I’m sorry.
I wonder what we’re doing tonight if anything. I hope I get to see her. I really need to see her face again before I leave. I already feel pretty sad about leaving.
Untitled: Post #181
Hey readers. So, this week hasn’t been the epitome of endeavor. I’ve been asleep for most of it, curled up under miles of fluffy comforters. Before you judge, let me say that I have not been feeling particularly healthy. I’ve kinda lost my appetite – or will to eat anyhow. I think this place has finally got under my skin. Luckily, term comes to abrupt end this Thursday… well for me anyway. I’m looking forward to coming home, seeing my friends and family.
Speaking of seeing people, I walked past one particular today. You might remember her from my birthday post. Yeah, thanks for all the sympathy views too. Just because it was on my birthday doesn’t mean you have to explicitly read my blog. Anyway, we greeted, she spoke, I said: “Oh okay cool. Enjoy”, and then walked off. It’s strange how I feel, because a) I didn’t even know it was her until she said my name, b) I looked at her and didn’t think of feel anything, and c) I think I pretty much killed the initial thought of being with her, and I’m glad. I’m not sure how that would work. I’m so sick of having to settle for second best. Oh well, I suppose I can add another to that ever-growing list. Like a good friend I’ll be there for her regardless.
Getting back to vacation… it’s only a week-long. I have to be back here at 16h00 next Sunday. It is, I suppose, nice to have a break.
I gotta run though. Speak later.
March 5th: My Testimony
As so often is the case with events in my life, my birthday this year has been something of an overhyped extravaganza that never quite lived up to expectations. I do, however, believe that my 21st birthday was one of my most cherished, appreciated and memorable birthdays yet.
It all began at Pirates’ “Five-Rand Formal” party, where selected beverages were being poured for a few coins. I had so many drinks. So many. We then visited the perennial favourite Friar’s, where in my drunken state, was awfully unhappy. I kept thinking about pointless shit – ironic that I can’t remember what said shit was. With about ten minutes left till midnight, I decided to fly the coop and chase down a girl I really like[d]. I met up with her, only to be called something derogatory by her supposed friend. I then left them, feeling as though my night was not going to get any better there and was not prepared to see it get worse. It’s a good thing I left. I got home. I had a TC (see The Glossary). Took headache tablets, liver tablets, had a bottle of water. Slept.
I woke up at 8.20 this morning, 30 minutes before my official birth date, in tears, my arm wet, my face stuck to my pillow. I don’t know why I was crying in my sleep.
The girl I chased down was spoken of previously in this blog. We were always just friends, well, at least that’s how it worked unilaterally. I secretly had a thing for her. To cut a long story short, rejection is not something I find delightfully appetizing. If anything, I could not have had a worse conversation if I were talking to my executioner after sinning in the Victorian era.
This is the sick, twisted beauty of life though. In retrospect, if I had not been rejected and cheated on and belittled by the masses girls in my past, I would not be who I am today. Twenty-one years of learning, experimenting and experiencing all comes down to this – the present. And to be honest, I could not have asked life for anything more but to be who I am and where I am today.
To everyone that has had a part to play in my life, no matter how minute or seemingly insignificant, I’d like to say thank you. To those whom I love, have loved and shall love, I ask that you love me mutually, learn from the experience as I have and love me with all of your ability when you get the chance to meet.
It has been a pleasure folks. Over and out.
- reddevilandy10
Lost Puppy Syndrome: The Reprise
For some reason, now more than ever during this past month, I have this intense desire to go home. I sat in the dining hall earlier, meal unbooked for some reason, no plate in front of me, just thinking. And thinking. I’m thinking right now. Right now my mind is in a different plane of reality, trying to find some sort of comfort in what has become a cesspool of despondence. I didn’t wake up feeling like this; I wish I had, at least then I could attribute it to some dream I had the previous night. Emotions have a way of sneaking up on you when preoccupied though, much like the clouds and rain today have pinched the sky during the night to the dismay of the morning sun.
I believe that I participate in way too much personal reflection. Every minute of everyday I’m thinking of myself – whether I’m happy or not, whether my jeans matches my t-shirt, whether there is a piece of bird shit in my hair – sometimes, obviously, completely irrelevant. I think these feelings are just another symptom of my overpopulated mind; a place where reality and perception fights ferociously, eternally for supremacy, neither ever seeming to win. I wish reality would just win, instead, the thoughts in my head constitute a cloud of “ifs” and “maybes” and “buts”, all ideas that lend themselves to worry, regret and irreversible circumstances.
Still, even if reality did win, it would beckon me home for my birthday, for Easter. I miss my family and friends inexplicably. I yearn for comfort, for stability in my life, for confidence. But all those seem to elude me, as hard as I may try to be who I want.
Let me take my leave, as I can babble on about whatever it is that has killed my drive for everything today, but have shit to do. Reality’s shit.
- reddevilandy10
The Fallibles Of A Human Soul
BEWARE: This post may offend some sensitive readers. You have been warned. Reader discretion is advised.
Dispirited. That’s how I’d describe my feeling towards anything tonight. That 6-shot tumbler full of God forsaken awful made me think a lot now, totally the adverse of how I usually react to getting drunk. I thought about her, over and over. The sunset tonight will remind me of her again. The next toasted-cheese sandwich I see and eat will remind me of her too. Fuck, even the next girl I smile at will remind me of her. No, I’m not smitten, I’m licking my wounds. Saying goodbye was possibly the shittest thing I had to do all year. Nothing will compare. But somehow just hearing her say the words “I love you” paints the world in vivid colours of luminescence. I love her so much, I feel like saying “I love you” is simply not enough. I love her so much that I’d be ready to transcend the boundaries of our friendship to be with her in a heartbeat. I love her so much that I’m able to let her sieve through her feelings, needs, wants, basically her life, whilst standing at a distance, making sure to give her all the space she needs. Not a metaphor for Grahamstown by the way.
God, I can’t fucking describe how joyous I feel when I see her smile, or fel her hand upon my back – even though it may be laced with razor sharp nails. I love every word she utters, every gesture she makes. It’s ridiculous how in love I am with her. And guess what? Just as our friendship is beginning to harden into something that we can grow into, I have to leave. Fuck you life. Fuck you.
I’m so sad right now.
I’m Scared…
BEWARE: This post may offend some sensitive readers. You have been warned. Reader discretion is advised.
I’m scared of losing her. I’m scared of neglect. I’m scared of doing something wrong. I’m scared of pushing her away. I’m scared of trying to hard. I’m scared of not being the man she thought I was, or could be. I’m scared of failure. I’m scared of being unhappy, all the time. I’m scared of not knowing what’s gonna happen next. I’m scared of myself. I’m scared of my untamed emotions. I’m scared of fucking up everything. I’m scared of not attaining my dreams. I’m scared that I’ll still be nothing at 25. I’m scared that none of my plans may realise. I’m scared that she’ll think I’m not worthy. I’m scared that my thoughts will interfere in everything I ever do. I’m scared that I may never be able to stop thinking about stupid shit. I’m scared that my father will always look at me as a failed version of himself. I’m scared that my eyes give away too much to those who know me. I’m scared that no matter what I do, I will never really feel as though people want me around. I’m scared that I’ce chosen a career path that isn’t for me. I’m scared that life just hands me lemons, and nothing sweet at all. I”m scared that I may be a bad father one day. I’m scared that people look at me and think that I am rubbish. I’m scared that whatever I do, it still won’t be enough. I’m scared that I may never find true love. I’m scared that my life is just one meaningless superhighway with no actual destination or purpose. I’m scared that you are reading thing now thinking what a pathetic and depressed individual I am. I’m scared that in the process of my understandings of life, I may lose the total point of life altogether. I’m scared that I may be left all alone one day. I’m scared that everything is just closing in. I’m scared that I’m not strong enough. I’m scared that I may never learn what it is my parents want me to. I’m scared that even though everything is set out for me, that I may fuck it all up. I’m scared that my children may see me as the weakest like in the familty some day.I’m scared that I’m too impatient. I’m scared that I want things too much. I’m scared that I overdo things sometimes. I’m scared that I am not what you had imagined. I’m scared, of being scared. Fuck.
The Self-Loathing Chronicles
BEWARE: This post may offend some sensitive readers. You have been warned. Reader discretion is advised.
I’m very hard on myself, all the time. I’m emotional. I’m erratic. I have this horrible self-loathing habit that I just can’t shake. And I think that most of the people on earth are better than me. This isn’t even all of it. Christ, some days I just wish I was never around anymore or even born. At times, I get so depressed that I literally think of suicide, and how bad dying really is perceived to be. I get cold feet though, constantly. That’s why I guess I will never end my own life.
Why all this you ask? I don’t think I’m good enough. I have a fear of not being good enough. And I have this constant mosquito in my ear, namely my father, buzzing on about how I need to grow up, be a better me, “reach for that cloud because they won’t just fall into your lap”. Now, yes, excuse me if I’m not quite getting the point but I see all this as if I am not good enough already. I just hear in, in metaphorical form every day. Great.
You know, I’m in love, but I’m afraid to be. I hate to admit it. My biggest fear is getting refused by someone who I really like. Who I cherish. Who I love. I don’t want to be in another situation where I have to cry, or I’m forced to think about how grey life is. I don’t want to be upset and angry all the time. But, I do want to feel cared for, thought of, be someone’s stallwart. Amazingly, that’s when I come alive.
I become an entirely new person, as if the ignition has just been turned and my dormant personality that hardly anyone gets to see is shown for all. I become confident, happy, agile in thought, free in mind, just inspired. I want to get up. I want to see new challenges. I want to trip and fall and get up and dust the sand from my limbs… all because when you’re in love and mutually so, life becomes worth living.
I’ve always said that life and love are one of a kind, the one cannot exist without the other. In my life, it stands true. I need love to survive. I’m just not happy without it. I just pray that I’m looking for it in the right spaces. I know that I love her with all my being, I just hope and have faith that it is mutual… I hope so much that it is. Fuck.
Forgetting Sarah Marshall
There are a few movies I love watching every now and then. These include movies like Definitely Maybe, 500 Days of Summer and Wedding Crashers. But one movie that really puts me in a great mood is Forgetting Sarah Marshall, starring Mila Kunis and Jason Segel.
I decided to watch it tonight for some reason, and I couldn’t help but notice how relevant to everyday life it is.
How often are we tasked with forgetting our Sarah Marshall? Be it a failed opportunity, a huge disappointment, or yes, breaking up with a lover, we have to move on as painful as it is. It may take a while, and it may take inspiration from an unlikely source, but it has to be done. Even though it feels as if you can’t, if you don’t want to, and if you don’t care.
I watch this movie every time I need to be reminded of that, and well, it helps. It really does. Besides, Mila Kunis is gorgeous!
Unexplainable Unhappiness
Most of the people in my life are silently depressed. They go about life as if everything is fine, but behind their facade lingers pain, anger, remorse, hatred, self-loathing, heartache. I know, I’m partly one of them. I hate myself. I’m one of those who tries to hide these feelings, because I know people regard me as a melancholic, gloomy person. I see it in people’s eyes when they look at me. I understand though. I understand why others would look at another with such prejudice and misconceptions, especially if their lives are deemed self-fulfilling, perfect and complete. They can’t comprehend how I feel. And, as a result of these misunderstandings, I feel more and more alone and alienated each day.
Although, the support and unrequited love I receive from family and friends on a daily basis, I’m still cold and numb. I want gratification, not just love. Not just embraces or smiles. I want to feel as though I am meant to be here; I want to know that my birth was not just another unexplained anomaly of creation.
I’ve realised why I talk about Grahamstown so much among family and friends; why I say that I’d rather be there than here; why I constantly compare the two. It’s because Grahamstown is my piece of personal, unique, untainted experience. It’s mine to tell. I want to tell it. And I want the people in my life to be proud of me for it. That’s a reason why I keep this blog. Yes, it’s a personal journal for me, but when others read about my thoughts, experiences, journeys, ideas, shortcomings, triumphs, I feel as though people are interested in my life. I’m not just there, owning life, but I’m here too, through my words. Grahamstown is mine. And that is why I talk about it so much. No one else can claim to have experienced it. It makes me special. And clearly, that’s quite possibly the only fucking thing that distinguishes me from the rest of the people I know.
As I write this, I wonder how I will ultimately find some kind of direction, some kind of help. I don’t know, maybe divine intervention or something. But, while I’m home, I feel the furthest away from myself that I can feel. Utterly lost, alone and clueless about what I must be doing with all this wasted time and space.
“Come on, oh my star is fading
And I see no chance of release
And I know I’m dead on the surface
But I am screaming underneath”- “Amsterdam” by Coldplay.
- reddevilandy10
The Beautiful Irony
BEWARE: This post may offend some sensitive readers. You have been warned. Reader discretion is advised.
If there’s one place I always feel wanted, it’s my bed. My little cocoon, where I can be all alone, in a state of self-loathing, hating the world for all it’s worth.
I was thinking of doing a what makes me feel good when I’m down post, but figured, how often am I really happy?
I tend to oversleep a lot, because the mere thought of being awake makes me tremble with anguish sometimes. I don’t want to be who I am, and most days, it tends to show through my very thin facade. People shouldn’t know the real me, because, as far as I’ve known, I don’t even know the real me.
Faces in my life have come and gone. Walked on by or stayed for a while, earned my friendship and then fucked off home. I don’t want that, and I don’t need that, and I certainly don’t want to allow it anymore. They don’t like the me they see, so they back off, or assume that certain things are about them. If you can’t understand why I like being alone most days then you don’t deserve to be called a friend. Respect my fucking wishes, and when I tell you I don’t feel like company it has nothing to do with you. Nothing.
For what it’s worth, I have been a loner for longer than I care to remember. I believe it started way back in preschool when I used to get bullied often, and picked on my the girls. I wasn’t happy then, and, it seems to have followed me, a full 15 years later, to haunt me every so often. That is not the only reason.
Usually, the people most quick to leave me are indeed, lovers. Mind you, I have not had someone to call mine in two years, so I am a bit out of practice. I tend to approach these in the wrong ways, usually befriending the girl I like before attempting any type of romantic exchange. It always comes back to bite me in the ass. Every fucking time.
I’m not saying that that’s one reason why I’m gloomy more often than not, I’m saying it’s a primary factor. It’s awesome knowing that the girl you like will always be in your life, but if you fall in love with her, do you really just want her in your life? Would you stand back while she replaces you with another? No. But what are the chances of you actually being more than a friend once you are thrown in the friend box? Hardly any.
I don’t know what to do. I never had any clue about the decisions that I have made in my life. I usually just do stupid shit and hope for the best. But this, this is different. It has gotten to the point where I just want to be away from it. I don’t want to have to deal with the fact that I probably won’t get my way yet again. Naive, perhaps, but one can only handle so much. Pressure, I’m your man, but emotions, especially affection, then I’m probably the weakest I know.
Odd, but the one thing that is causing my pain, is the same thing that would actually help resolve it. Aaah, life.
PS: Listen to “Crush” by David Archuleta. The perfect synonym for my life at this moment.
The Final Mare
BEWARE: This post may offend some sensitive readers. You have been warned. Reader discretion is advised.
It’s only 01h15, but I’m home. After being beckoned to come out to embrace Grahamstown for the last time, even with a slight hangover, I obliged and now, unfortunately, smell of ten packs of Marlboro. Not only am I extremely happy, I am extremely disappointed too.
You know the unmistakable feeling of feeling insurmountably euphoric and then the next, feeling bottom of the earth unhappy? That’s how I feel now.
It’s a pity this night had to end. I really enjoyed it. Having to endure that the fact certain life choices may never actually be realised made me shiver inside. Amazingly, that life choice always happens to be one who you enjoy being with.
Yeah. The cold, unmistakable kiss of anger, resentment and utter pain.
The thing is though, I always seem to set myself up for these kind of moments. Honestly, I am no good at getting with girls anymore. I am no good. I may as well join the fucking air force and fly about just to crash because that’s what I do perennially. It seems as if that’s the only thing I’m good at. Don’t get me wrong though, friendship is something that will last a lifetime, but something ephemeral, that, my friends, is sometimes worth so much more.
I’m sitting here, half-sober, blurting out my most private and trivial thoughts to you, readers, I ask that you may empathize with me. I want to love some one who does not want to be in love with me. The scary thing? I’m all for it. BECAUSE it is love, readers, that allows one to make all decisions, regardless of hoe your life turns out. Regardless of what the circumstances may be. No, your only thought is about the one that you hold in your heart.
Love is about not giving a fuck about yourself, but putting all that time, care and effort into the one YOU love.
That is true love.
I can understand why it is so goddamn hard to find! I mean, what the fuck am I doing wrong? Is it because I care too much? Do I not possess a boyfriend bone in my body? What is it?
Anyone, please enlighten me! Because I am fucking sick of being single. It’s been best part of two years. 2008. That’s over 600 days. Do you know how that feels? It is not fucking comforting.
It is not something you can go to sleep to. Never have I slept any worse than I have after I come home from a party sober. Too see all the apparent lovebirds chirping amongst each other. Never!
I have had dreams of falling off a cliff, dying, butterflies being killed, but not once a happy ending?
I love my life, but at the same time, I despise it so much. To be honest, sometimes, hiding pain within happiness, is harder than not being happy at all. And that, my friends, is how I go to sleep tonight.
reddevilandy10
Blogging Whilst Drunk
BEWARE: This post may offend some sensitive readers. You have been warned. Reader discretion is advised.
Look, okay, I have no problem with any relationship, but when it starts to affect your own personality then it’s time to call it quits. I understand if you may love a certain someone, but what is the reason for this “love”? Is it the fact that you know what this specific person offers? Of you know this certain person’s habits and rituals? Is it because you do not have confidence that you will find someone else in your life? Well, if it’s anyone of those, then God… what a waste of time life is.
I am always the so-called “jack-in-the-box” relationship type. I expect love in return, and that’s all. God, I am far from demanding. Play with my hair, keep my bed warm – that’s the minimum.
With you though, I swear it would be a privilege to be with you. You brighten up my day without even knowing it. You are the fucking sun in my sky, and you deny it. All I want it a chance. But no, the “friend box” is where I will stay, apparently. God, I’ve made this my unwanted home in so many relationships with girls. I have no beef being in your life as your friend, in fact, it is an honour, but seriously, missing out on pure bliss by not being with me just doesn’t seem a good life decision. I’m not gonna to be available forever. As your friend I feel that I should actually tell you this.
Think about it.
Regardless though, I’ll always be here for you. Trust my word.
Yours truly,
- reddevilandy10
Cupid’s Sunglasses
I am an optimist. I try to see good in every situation or person before the bad. I dress in short sleeve tees during Winter hoping that it will be sunny. I even take some time to think about how great my life is occasionally, and how great it is still going to become. But mention this word “love” to me, and I change.
You see, once upon a time, my view on “love” was not tainted. There were no scars or memories. One could say that I looked at life through Cupid’s sunglasses, noticing all good things that love creates as I encounter it. But then, one quiet day, my views on love were damaged. Those sunglasses were trampled by a troll named Reality, who does not dwell in the same supernatural, abstract, make-believe realm as love does. Reality is never compelled to do those sort of horrible things though, someone always, always has to ask it to. Hence, the reason people’s actions are so much more powerful than words will ever be.
During the past few days I’ve been meeting people who are apparently “falling in love”, who are happily in love and those who are teetering on the brink, but not sure exactly what it all means yet. To those who are not sure what love holds, don’t try to find out, instead, take my advice – it’s not worth the pain. Yes, optimistic it may be to want to fall head-over-heels in love, but it’s just not smart. It’s not stable. It puts you somewhere that you don’t want to be after it’s all over. When you are “in love” you become a shadow of yourself. You lose your identity. It’s revolting.
Mind you, it does feel amazing. To find that one person who makes your pillow smell like roses, or keeps your bed warm at night, or even just holds your hand as you walk down the road… it means that much. You will want to risk having your face altered just to have all of that. But, unless you’re sure, it’s not worth it.
Just, look, if you’re planning to be in a romantic relationship, find someone who really appreciates you. If someone can transcend all of these fears, pessimism and negativity to hold hands with you, then go for it. Otherwise, he or she really isn’t worth it. Stop trying to kid yourself. Don’t ever settle for less.
Confessions of a Broken Lover
I must confess: I was never any good at being a boyfriend. I would be clingy, sloppy and constantly jealous. I would want to impress her at every opportunity and centre my entire life around her. To be honest, my life became hers.
Now that she is apparently so happy with another guy, it makes me rage with this unsanded hatred towards basically everything. Even though I said “friends would be the best option for us”, I’m beginning to think that I have no clue how to be friends with her. I still want to win her heart. I want her to want to worry about me constantly. I want her directly in my life. I want her to make my life hers. And I think this is where conflict starts; I’m willing to put everything into a relationship when she only puts in what she wants. I know, I should be over this, it’s been the best part of two years since we officially broke up, but shit, she was my life.
What makes it worse is how since then, I just haven’t found a replacement. Yeah, a few girls have come close, but I really messed those chances up too. It’s not as if I had intended to, I just messed it up. I’m inexperienced as it is in love, so please, don’t take it personally. And if you’re reading this, try harder to understand.
Once you have someone take your heart, it’s unfathomably difficult to regain it. I know I’ve said that love is a stupid, superfluous emotion only experienced due to the desperate, instinctual need to be with another who feels the same way, but I felt something truly, well… spiritual I guess, with this girl.
I’m just rambling, but trying to explain my emotions when it comes to her is just going to sound prepared and well thought of. It’s not. They’re capricious and raw. Almost as if she fuels my affectional engine. My heart beats twice as fast around her than normal, now tell me if that’s just coincidence.
I really loved her. But, I guess it’s time to swear, punch my pillow, and bite my hand, because I will never be the one who holds her hand ever again… So it seems.
The Return To Solitude
I’m taking an extended break from my work to type this. I think I need to get all of this out because I just can’t seem to concentrate at all.
I’m back in Grahamstown. The big, spiraling vortex of nothingness. The life-fragmenter. It’s supposed to be the City of Saints - bullshit.
The past two weeks have really not been very pleasant. Things just seem to happen in chains, like when one bad thing happens the next is not too far away. I swear if that’s not enough, I just make my life completely complicated for no reason. I think I don’t feel an emotion of some kind constantly, I lose all interest and hope in myself. It’s as if feeling pain is so much better than apathy. I guess with pain, the only emotion you can feel other than pain must be something a degree more positive at least.
I still hate this though – being miles away from my real life in Cape Town. Having to artificially manufacture some sort of routine here to help me cope with the distance. And it’s not that I’m far away from people, it’s as if when I’m in Grahamstown the Capetonians I know seem to forget all about me. We hardly ever talk. We never keep in touch, or update each other or even just swap greetings on MXit. It’s cutting up my life and friendships and spitting it everywhere.
I really don;t know what will make me feel better. Maybe to have someone remind me that life is a lot better than how I perceive it. That would be great. But where do I find this person? Because I sure as hell don’t listen to myself. I wouldn’t want to anyway.
I’m glad I got some of that out… maybe I can actually work properly now.
Untitled: Post #66
My life is so simple yet I make it unnecessarily complicated.
Fair statement you may say, but look at it like this… I am complicated, therefore by having a simple life will only cause it to be more complicated due to the fact that it is does not comply to my norm of being complicated. Understand? Don’t worry, I’m just screwing with you. But seriously, my life is complicated because I make it complicated.
I’m going to try to explain why I am like this, so please, for the love of God, bear with me.
You only ever realise you messed something up until the moment has passed. Nothing is a sterner statement of this than failed relationships. Possibly, even relationship risks not taken? When you didn’t have the balls to stand in front of a girl, look her in her eyes and declare exactly what she means to you. Now that hurts. And trust me, even though you get over it and see that friendship is great, there’s still a faceless gremlin sitting in the pit of your stomach whispering “what if” each time you see her. The beauty you used to admire like a bee to a flower, is suddenly the one thing you want to run away from. It haunts you. Every single second. So look, if I had ever said anything profound or important in my life that has been worth listening to, this is it: DO NOT EVER EVER let the girl you know is worth it slip away.
Regardless though, just the fact that I was such an ignorant ass makes me want to punch myself in the stomach.
Otherwise, if that doesn’t kill you, having to cut a relationship that’s been the only constant thing in your immediate life for the best part of five years, will. Another tip, if you wish to never feel pain again, don’t be happy. Good one, huh? I think it makes sense. But, yeah, don’t do it. This is a bit of a tongue-in-cheek paragraph, by the way.
Just randomly, I want to comment on Leona Lewis’s song, The Best You Never Had. For some odd reason I can’t really relate to the lyrics, but I swear to God I could marry her based on her voice along. I love the level changes in the chorus, gives me goosebumps. The curly hair and green eyes are just a bonus.
Getting back to my point, life is not for the faint of heart. Believe me, my life compared to others’ is like a garden walk in the middle of Spring… but even that I struggle with. So, I’m saying be careful, but take risks. Care about people, but be selfish too. And, love her with all your strength, but know when love alone can’t hold your relationship together.
Wishing In Vain
I wish I could make music. Music that could bring joy to the lives of millions of people, or music to help them grieve or deal with problems. I wish I could write music to turn winters into summers, rain into sunshine, famines into rich harvests. Most of all though, I wish I could write music to honour the people I love. There would be a song for each of you, and every one would be different.
You could say I have the talent to write lyrics, many people say I do. What I lack though is the confidence and backing to do it. I love writing. And when words are put alongside music, something magical happens. It’s as if the rainbow was all shades of grey once when someone decided to throw some colour in it. Music is poetry rejoiced. Feelings personified. Lives retold.
I wish I could inspire the world. I wish people looked up to me like they do to musicians and marvel at me, make me their personal icon. I wish I could influence the masses of lost and forlorn wandering through life with absolutely no idea of where they’re headed or want to go – like I feel I am now. I wish so many things in this life. Seriously. It’s like I’m permanently whining about things I don’t have, attributes and positions I was in. I hate how I just can’t snap my fingers. And yes, I am immature okay. Shit, everyone should be allowed to act like a five-year-old once in a while. At least I don’t make stupid decisions. I just whine. And throw tantrums. And refuse to pray about things.
I think I need to see a psychologist but I’m too afraid to speak to my parents about it. I don’t want them to know. They’ll think I’m crazy. I’m sure they already do.
I hate my life.
Painful Apathy
It’s strange how a few months ago, I couldn’t see myself living without my family and parents. But now that I’m home, I feel as if I want to go back to Grahamstown and live independently, under my roof. I love them but they just smother me too much. My dad still thinks I’m ten-years-old. My mother is not that bad though. I appreciate her company, but my dad seems to have this unfading want to want to show me how to do everything. He nags and pushes even though I don’t like being forced to do things. It changes me. I become angry and erratic when cornered.
It’s shit how all of this turned out. I wish I had done my work experience in Grahamstown when I still had the chance. I wish I didn’t chicken out so often when I needed to do things. I really don’t like the person I am. I despise myself.
I just wish I was back in Grahamstown. I feel more at home there than I do here. Even though I’ll miss the one person who makes leaving Cape Town so hard. I wish I could take her with me. I hate that I have to leave her just as we rediscovered our spark.
I’m really not happy today. I just feel like weeping.
- reddevilandy10
Friends Like These
There are, now and again, moments in life when you think you’ve met the best friend you will ever know… only to realise in later weeks, they’re not at all what you imagined them to be. Not even imagined, more like their pretentious bullshit makes you think that. It’s ironic though, how “friends” can go from being like two-peas-in-a-pod to virtual death-stare enemies, after all, aren’t friends people you rely on to the very end?
Some of my people here in Grahamstown are going through difficult, awkward and heart-breaking experiences. They have been trodden on, run over and buried in the dirt over things that may not or may have happened. The worst part is? This unnecessary pain is being caused by themselves.
Now, believe me when I say this, I am not a judgemental person, but I make judgements nonetheless. I cannot stand how some people treat others who they claim to be friends. Honestly, how horrible do you need to be to devalue someone who has done nothing to deserve it? Especially if you claim to be Christian too. I mean, Christians practice Christianity don’t they? I’m unsure about my faith but I know for a fact that God did not say “don’t love your neighbour as you love thyself.” Actually, I saw something inscribed on a mug once… it read “J.O.Y. – Jesus first, yourself last, and others in between.” Amazing, isn’t it?
If there is another thing I cannot stand, it’s so-called “Christians.” Yes, I’m not the most religious person on Earth, I even have problems with the entire idea of Christianity, but at least I don’t have a front on. Why go to church, pray everyday, be all holy when you can’t even treat someone like a human being? Since when was God only interested in those who are entirely devoted to him???
The word “friend” is one of the more powerful words in the English language. Along with “love” and “hate” it should never be used lightly. And if you claim to be someone’s friend, you ought to mean it.
- reddevilandy10
Back To Bedlam
Credit goes to James Blunt for the use of his album title as my post’s.
I apologise for doing this to you readers, but this morning I woke feeling truly awful. I’m not sure what I dreamt about but it obviously wasn’t very pleasant. The saddest thing is though, I’m trying so hard to get over all of this but it’s not helping. Every day I feel worse than before, every day I feel like breaking down and not get up. I never ever thought that the person I love so dear in this world would do something so crude and hurtful. Then again, you never really know people now do you?
I don’t know what all of this means. I don’t know which path to take now: the end all ties, the just be friends or the let’s see if this could work out. It’s really not easy having something so hurtful done to you and hear “I love you” coming from the same person’s mouth. I really don’t understand how those two are correlated.
For all those hurting right now because of other people’s mindless, selfish, resentful actions, hang in there. Hopefully the sun will shine in you life once again in the future.
Over and out.
- reddevilandy10
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