A Very Important Week
Readers, I am finally on vacation.
After a month and a half of hauling unnecessary ass around, being Rhodes’ mistress, I am free and back in the city that I love so dear. (more…)
Lost Puppy Syndrome – The Inevitable Regression
Warning: This post contains very strong language that some readers may consider offensive.
I’m not going to pretend that these thoughts don’t affect me anymore. (more…)
The Ungrateful
Warning: This post contains language and subject matter that some might find offensive.
21 days.
Say hello, everyone, to your ungrateful twat of an author… (more…)
Week Three of Seven: The Purple Tide
28 days.
After eight days of self-induced silence, I feel like my readers deserve an update seeing that a rather infrequent posting pattern has, once again, set in. (more…)
Dear Tuesday…
39 days.
You’re such a show off, aren’t you? What made you splash the flowers – yellow, blue, red – across the fields that honour Rhodes’ stony pathways today? Why have you pinned the bright yellow sun to the sky, who soothes the Winter soil and throws the birds into vocal celebration? And the bouncing, grinning faces of all who celebrate your coming? Was that you too? You really couldn’t help it, could you? Oh well, I don’t mind at all. I love your decadence… your exuberance! I can tell you can’t wait for Spring to visit… and neither can I. (more…)
Yesterday’s Good News
I’ve some great news, readers. I received post yesterday confirming my conditional exemption! meaning that I can legally study towards and obtain my degree, without having to repeat Matric or anything stupid as such. Awesome, huh? Yeah, I’m pretty stoked, even though I may not convey that expression through this post today.
There are five assignments sitting alongside my laptop, staring at me with a dejected stare, as if I owe it something. I suppose, I have neglected the researchings and studyings that my work so dearly requires these past few weeks, but mainly because to find inspiration in anything I do I need a kick up my ass. That mail yesterday, was the proverbial kick.
Anyhow, in saying this, remember how much I enjoy Autumn? How the falling leaves and swirling winds join to pain the roads and sidewalks in reds and yellows and oranges and all sorts of gorgeous colours? Well, I was walking home from the library last night, earphones in, playing Rufus Wainwright’s rendition of “Hallelujah”, when this blanket of low cloud decides to burst, leaving me caught in the middle of this splattering mist slash drizzle. The streetlights were flashing, the poles swaying, my hands shivering. But here’s here weird part… the wind roared during the verses… and then… the moment “hallelujah, hallelujah” was sung, everything just calmed down. Peace. Utter stillness. It was stupefying. Even though my face and clothes were completely drenched when I got back to res, it made me appreciate just how incredibly strange life is. Life has a sense of humour that we seldom appreciate. If I had not received such wonderful news earlier in the day, I would have looked at getting caught in the rain a really sick joke, or that the almighty bully sitting on a cloud in Heaven has decided to pick on me today.
I believe that people can change their destinies. I don’t believe in things “happening for a reason” though, but I know that getting that wake up call about my Matric should to inspire, enlighten and cause me to appreciate everything I’m trying to work towards. And go to damn lectures too!
I finally belong here. I’m at Rhodes not because of pure chance, but because I’m destined to be here.
I’m Not Bothering With A Title
Warning: This post contains language of a very explicit nature, not to mention an extreme case of “I couldn’t care less how cohesive and sensical this post is” grammatical and structural characteristics.
Click the link below to read on.
This Constant Train of Thought Seems to Tear My Mind Apart
BEWARE: The following post is a free-writing experiment containing raw, unedited thoughts. It may offend some sensitive readers. You have been warned.
As far back as I can remember, I’ve always been ambitious. I think at one point I had this dream of being a fireman, or a Formula 1 driver or, as crazy as it may seem, a cartographer. In primary school I came first in my grade the entire foundation phase, and no less than third for the rest of my tenure. Then high school began. I completely changed. It was hundred of children bigger than my primary school. Something like 1100 students were enrolled. I was one of the smarter students, getting high 70′s for Maths, English and Biology. The time came for our grade 10 subject choices. I chose Maths, Science, Business studies, Computer technology, English, and Afrikaans. I fucked it all up, except English, which I got 80% for in the final exams. I still deem that mark the most important of my life, as one less would’ve left me without a university. Speaking of which, I took a gap year, built up some capital and enrolled at Rhodes a year later. Rhodes accepted me, based on God knows what. I think the Humanities dean had a lot to do with it. I got 46% for Maths, 49% for Science in Matric – so I was not surprized when UCT declined my application. So, after stumbling into Rhodes, here I am, lying in bed, laptop on lap, typing this.
I’m in bed because I don’t give a fuck about lectures today. I want to stay in bed, and mope about, wondering how I managed to get into this place after all. To be honest, getting here still doesn’t confirm my further education. I have no Matric exemption certificate, due to my putrid Maths and Science marks. I’ve applied for one, but so goddamn scared to find out the results. What if it was unsuccessful? I’ve just wasted all my parents money.
I’m not even sure why I wanted to come to university – here especially. Yes, it offered journalism, which I wanted to major in so badly (but failed dismally) but now I realise that I don’t give a fuck about journalism – I want to be a writer. So, why the hell am I here then? I just want to write. But no, apparently you can’t get a job if you don’t have some type of pretty paper stating how vainly intelligent you are from an institution of “higher learning”. Fuck, I learn more going out, getting pissed and writing about it. I don’t need middle-aged men with glasses and snow-white beards to lecture me about how the World Wars have fucked up the human race for good. You can see how it has fucked up the human race for good.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m far from ungrateful. If anything, I owe all my being to my parents who got me to where I am right now. I am, however, challenging the modern way of thinking, learning and living. Why do I have to be here to get a job? Is my raw talent and will to want to be successful not enough?
Then again, you know what, maybe being here is not such a bad thing after all. It’s helping me come into contact with people who I loathe, hate, pity and mentally spit on everyday. People who don’t give a fuck about anyone else. People who have no morals, self-control or values. People who gladly say no to one person, who is miles better, and yes to the next general retard that comes their way. People who voluntarily jump in the sack of the very next person they lay eyes on. People who can’t tell their right from their left, their north from their south or the ground from the sky. It helps me, you know, it helps me to feel upset and broody about what kind of messed up society we live in. It helps a writer. And I suppose, in that respect, I just have to deal with it.
But I don’t want to deal with it! Why the duck must I? I hate this place. Everyday I wake up I feel like staying in bed, and often do. Like today. I’m having a “fuck the world” day, as you all can see here. I just want to go home. But fuck, even the idea of “home” is a soiled concept.
Home – where there are more pretentious bastards per capita than anywhere else in the world. Where the smell of failure and has-beens blot out the sun like smog. Where girls who don’t know the truth from the highly immoral live, and sadly, live. I don’t even want to go home. But I want to. I want to see my family. I want to see those who really do love me, who aren’t pretenders or murderers. I want to go home and ride the cable car up Table Mountain, stay there for a while, take a few pictures and then write my thoughts about life. I bet they would not resemble anything like this post.
I’m going back to sleep. Fuck English. I’ve slept for 13 hours so far today. The subconscious is honestly my favourite place in the entire universe.
Safe.
The Re-Return
Aaah, Grahamstown. So our relationship resumes, after three very long, complicated months apart. I’ve only been here a few days yet already I feel that connection, that innate desire to want to be here with you. Once experienced, you do become a bit of an addict it must be said. Something we could both do without though – Rhodes’ retarded admin division who remind me more of a bunch of sled dogs without trainers, they can go all day but don’t necessarily run in the same direction. Not to mention this God-awful, erratic micro climate that sits above you, the distasteful water that flows from the taps and more wildlife indoors than out apparently. Yeah, there’s a spider sharing quarters with me, probably the size of my hand. Sigh. Just how I remember you, Grahamstown. Just as Ted re-returns for Robin in How I Met Your Mother, I’m back for you again. Hopefully not barfing all over your custom doormat. Teddy boy, tsk tsk.
Anyway, I’m pretty tired. I’ve hardly slept since I’ve been back. Everything takes so much adjusting, I guess that’s why I feel so drained too. I just want to go back to bed now, but I can’t. We’re about to take a house photo and have a meeting afterwards too. So yeah. Sigh.
I miss you Cape Town, especially you sweety.
Until next time, hopefully when I can string a proper sentence together, I’ll post again.
- reddevilandy10
I Will Miss You, Rhodes
As I traipsed to the Student Bureau earlier this afternoon with the 28 Celsius sunlight washing Grahamstown with its healthy warmth, I noticed how lovely Rhodes’s grounds are in the Summer. Jacaranda’s line the streets, blossoming plumes of purple flowers. They contrast so well with the tree’s dark green finger-like leaves. The sky was a pure blue, marked with huge cumulus clouds on the horizon signaling a thunderstorm is a possibility. Not forgetting the veteran war buildings; them showing no signs of retiring anytime soon. Their big cornerstones make miniatures of the students darting in and out through the great wooden doors.
As I got to the Bureau, sadly, Ms. Wicks, the lady I wished to speak to and subsequently hand over the documents she needs, was not there. I shlepped out, wishing that she was sitting in that chair, that office, that all the students are so familiar with. You see, I need to apply for a Matric exemption in order to get my degree from Rhodes in 2013. I will be 22 at the beginning of the year, and not 23, so the automatic exemption will not apply. If I don’t get this clearance, I’m not sure what will happen. I don’t want to risk it.
With all this weighing heavy on my mind, I walked back through the archaic structures, the purple flanks of flowers, the lush, Summer grass… and wondered: “What if I don’t make it back here again next year?”.
What would I do?
I can’t stand to bear the thought but ever since I wrote my first exam well over three weeks ago now, I’ve had this stuck on my mind like an octopus to its prey. I can’t fail. I just can’t. I can’t be the first male of my family go to university and mess it up. I can’t be that person.
My strides became more laborious with each passing metre. My mind was the tired one, not my legs. I just couldn’t stop thinking of my life without Rhodes. Without my Bachelor of Journalism. Without my travel writing dream profession realised.
I will be utterly broken.
What If?
It’s raining in Grahamstown today. Such rubbish weather for mid-October. I honestly don’t mind the rain that much, but here, when it rains, there’s nothing to do.
I’ve had a really shit past three weeks, mainly due to hand-ins but a few stark realizations too. As I told you all yesterday, I went to the Student Bureau to sort out my degree plans, and it got me thinking. What if I had gone to school earlier like I was supposed to at age 6? And what if I hadn’t taken a gap year last?
To answer that… I would be graduating this year with a Bachelor of Journalism degree, at age 20.
Apparently, I was not mature or ready enough for school at 6 years of age. So, as a result, my parents kept me back a year. I went to school in 1997. I could have started in 1996. I wish I had.
I would have graduated from Matric with the old system still in place… If you’re not too familiar with the South African education system and how shit it is, Google it. That way, it would have been easier to get into Rhodes and I would have actually been accepted into UCT.
Sigh… actually, whatever. I’m just in a bad mood this week. I’ll be okay.
Summer Loves Grahamstown, I Love Squillos
My eyes only had an hour’s rest yet they’re still appreciate what an amazing day it is in Grahamstown. As they ventured outside, they needed the shade of my sunglasses as the early morning sun was a touch too bright. Walking down the road, they noticed the luminous orange flowers dangling from the trees, begging the birds to play amongst them. The clouds seemed to have drawn along the horizon like curtains on a theatre stage, beckoning the main performer on stage. And what a performance! She danced across the sky, spreading her warmth across the groundings, as if she is indeed a god herself. Not only my eyes were enticed by nature’s vivid beauty today, my skin felt the tender heat of Summer softly caress my back… the scent of newly blossomed flowers ripened the air and the birds whistled gleefully as they bounced from tree to tree in an endless game of tag.
Sigh… Summer here is really great.
I’m a little sick of trying to be poetic for a moment. My eyes are about to go on strike, following my brain. I have slept a maximum of two hours last night (this morning) and I am not in a really good mood as a result. I actually blame journalism. You SOaB. Yes, you!
But you know what? I figured that if I could get through all this shit with a degree, do my travel writing, even if it is around Cape Town or South Africa initially, it’ll be worth it. It will be worth all the late nights, lack of sleep and copious amounts of coffee. It will be worth it.
I just forget that sometimes.
I think we all do. The need to immediately satisfy a desire is something we all need to learn to control…
Anyway, there’s nothing quite like oats in the morning, after one hell of a morning that is. I have a tutorial in about half-an-hour – the reason why I’m still manning it up and not attempting to catch a sensible snooze. This is my least favourite tut. I mean, yeah, I have a 17h00 psychology tut today too, but at least I can sleep before hand. This tut, more often than not, I’m sitting up late doing an assignment or some sorts. So I’m never in a good mood anyway.
Just to entice you guys and, well, to keep me awake, you can look forward to the following posts:
- “Top Ten Fails of 2010“
A post dedicated to those who have fallen for the cause… of a good laugh. There have been some truly memorable ones this year. I’m still doing the research necessary so this one may be a very special post. Stay tuned.
- A review of Katy Perry’s Teenage Dream album.
This album has really interested me. Katy seems to be drifting towards a more club, electronic orientated sound. I’m really stoked to listen to it back to front and then back again. It’ll basically be my back up review if my journalism one turns sour.
- “Top Ten HIMYM Episodes” review (tribute).
Yes. I know. I’ve been promising this one for a while. I just hadn’t had any time recently. The only reason I’m posting this is to stay awake anyway! But this series truly deserves a review. It has been my inspiration for a few moments this year. From helping me handle my female issues to just being a guide on how to enjoy life… this is my favourite series. A tribute.
- A possible “Wins of the Year” post
There have been a fair share of these too. But really? Do we really need a review of them? What do my readers think?
If you guys have any other suggestions I’d love to hear about them. Comment!
Anyway, sipping on my chocolate shake, I’m off! Have a good day all!
- reddevilandy10
Untitled: Post #114
I swear, I feel like life is just sucking everything from me. Tripping my feet, kicking the shit out of me and leaving me on he ground to bleed…
After three paracetamol tablets, countless swigs of milk and four hours of laying in bed, I’m still awake. And I don’t want to be awake.
I guess Wednesday is carrying on… I had a really shitty day yesterday. I did absolutely no work, but at least my English is half done. My journ though… God, my journ is giving me nightmares. I honestly have no clue about my article direction or content. I’ll be amazed if I pass it. Thank God this exam counts 70%. My ass will definitely be on the line there.
Anyway, I just needed to get a few things off my chest in the hopes of a peaceful sleep. Somehow I just can’t pass out tonight. Stress maybe? I’m worried out of my skin, that’s for sure. I just really want to come back here next year. My biggest fear is being told I can’t. That will be more than I can take I think. Much more…
PS: It was one of my friends’ birthday’s today (well, yesterday actually), which I missed as he is in Cape Town. So Dean, I’d like to extend a happy birthday message to you on my blog too. “Life starts at 20,” they say, and my God are they right. The best is yet to come! Enjoy it.
- reddevilandy10
Sneaky Tuesday Mares
Well, this was supposed to be a food mission, but being it Grahamstown, somehow those missions always turn into mares. Okay, not that bad though (for me anyway), I only spent 14 ZAR tonight and got five slices of pizza from looking a little hungry… but for others, wow, a little much worse for wear I’d say.
One of my friends… two draughts… gone. Lol!
Pirates is renowned for making the best pizzas in Grahamstown (debatably) but also has the reputation of most hated business by Rhodes University. No wonder why. It turns everyday into a mare, even the odd days (see The Glossary for the definition, you uncultured people!).
Anyway, I got some valuable information for my Fails of 2010 blog post which is in the laboratory of my mind as we speak (or read) and a couple of good memories, notably Warren’s only win of the year – jacking a coveted Stein (one litre jug) from the table. Legendary!
Even though I’ve done my English essay, I need to sort out a few more things in my life before bed… so until next time!
- reddevilandy10
Tutorials Are Stupid
I always manage to find the most awkward moments to post. Like now, 1 am, I should either be sleeping or working, but instead I’m here.
Oh well, I guess I can work after this (fat chance). Besides, I’m bored out of my mind with all this crap. I’m sick of university. I just feel like going out, eating fast food, doing anything but sit in front of my laptop researching for things I really do not care about. Or reading some random poem with some random connotations or innuendos that I just can’t understand, not even a word of it. I really hate this.
I actually feel like not getting up for my English tut tomorrow. I really don’t feel like it. Our temporary tutor is a royal asshole too. I mean, yeah, he’s okay but a few weeks ago I failed to read a short story and he’s all like: “Well, if you don’t so you work you might as well not come to class. Next time you don’t do your work, just don’t come to this tutorial.” And I was like “WTF?” He’s a student acting like he’s the Dean. Asshole, I’m coming to tutorials because I’m forced to, not because I want to. Believe me, if I had a choice I would miss all of them intentionally. That way, maybe you “work” would be easier too. God, I can’t stand students who think that they’re the shit.
Readers, I apologize for the lack of substantial blogging material that is both informative and interesting to read but recently, I really haven’t given much of a crap about anything in life. All those happy posts – they were written by drunk reddevilandy10, who is a hundred times more optimistic than sober reddevilandy10.
But yeah, screw this work until tomorrow morning. My friend wanted to make a BP run now, but really I am way to tired and uninspired to get up and walk to get food right this moment. So I’m off to bed. My sanctuary. My peaceful chamber of calmness and messed up dreams. Actually, wait, no I dreampt last night that I was a mafia boss’s sacrifice last night. So no, it is not peaceful.
I’m just gonna go sleep. Night people!
- reddevilandy10
I Love My Life!
Song of the Evening – Martin Solveig featuring Dragonette – “Hello”
Life is unpredictable. Regardless.
This is how it should be lived, this is how it should be savored. If life was to be understood, the fun would be lost. The capricious, vagarious nature of it would be lost, and we’d be stuck in a Groundhog Day of sorts.
The fact that we have no common control over our own lives is the beauty of life. We’re along for the ride, and we best enjoy it for what it’s worth.
Thus, it brings me to Grahamstown. A sleepy hollow of a little student town, that impresses me to no end – especially on the party, or mare side of life.
Here I am, at 2am in the morning, half-drunk, listening to Martin Solveig “Hello” as if it is the only track on Earth. If it wasn’t for my bed, and the pillows that I am up against, I would be burning holes through my makeshift dance floor.
Tonight I took part in so many different people’s lives, lived new experiences – ones I hope that I will tell my children about one day – and seen some truly gorgeous people. There’s one though, that would make my life truly complete… but you’re, well, you know who you are… you just need to admit it!
Life is way too ephemeral to be neglected, as is happiness, which is, in all honesty, a commodity. We all love to be happy. As for me, I love making people laugh, smile, happy. But you, God, you, you I love making happy most of all. You deserve happiness.
Well, I wish you could have been at Friar Tuck’s and Burning Man tonight, you really would have enjoyed it. I certainly have. Shout out to all the people in my life who make it worthwhile. Those who make me want to be a better person. A better human being. And most of all, a person who lives life as if it is a spinning paper disc engulfed in flames.
Life’s amazing guys, live it, love it, find love within it.
I’m out. That you Grahamstown for one incredible night!!!
- 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
I Hate
BEWARE: This post may offend some sensitive readers. You have been warned. Reader discretion is advised.
Bear with me, because this post is not for the faint of heart or the reading enthusiasts. This is purely for my benefit, my ranting, my raving and my idea about my life.
I hate my life. I really just want to jump inside a coffin and bury myself. Shit, don’t ask my why I am so melancholic. I guess I just am underneath the layers of happy faces and cheerful giggles. I hate the course I’m doing, I hate the university I’m at, I hate the way I look when I get up in the mornings, I hate the way my jeans never fit me properly. I hate how girls never look at me. I hate how I’ve managed to mess up every single opportunity I’ve had with a girl. I hate the fact that my first love is with some other guy. I hate the book I’m forced to read. I hate my ugly face. I hate how happy the other people in my life are. I hate how my friends only ever talk to me when I rant and rave for their attention. I hate how I’m wasting my parents money by not knowing what the fuck I want to do with my life. I hate myself. I hate feeling pain every time I think of a failure. I hate the fact that I am unable to let go of shit in the past. I hate how I’m struggling to write the simplest of sentences now. I hate how complicated life has become. I hate how people in my life are so ephemeral. I hate how my friends are having an awesome time when I am not. I hate how shit never ever goes my way. I hate the fact that I am still alive. I hate how I can’t seem to find “God”. I hate the fact that “God” never seems to help with anything. I hate how people never understand how I’m feeling. I hate how some girls just use me as a stepping stone. I hate the fact that some girls are happier with other guys than they are with me. I hate how cynical I have become. I hate how I fail to enjoy anything in life anymore. I hate how I can’t seem to settle down into any sort of rhythm. I hate the fact that I still can’t play piano. I hate how people have so many gifts whereas my only one is verbal cursing. I hate how others’ gifts are ones that people love. I hate how I am not good enough for certain people. I hate how fake some people can be. I hate it when it gets so damn cold here at night. I hate the fact that I still can’t find a girl to love. I hate the fact that girls seem to look at me as if I’m alien. I hate how it never rains here. I hate how I’ve scuffed up my Le Coqs. I hate the fact that I’m getting older. I hate how I can’t flirt with younger girls now. I hate the fact that I’m nearly broke. I hate the fact that I don’t have a car. I hate the fact that I still have four years on this course. I hate the fact that UCT didn’t accept me. I hate how Rhodes told me that my acceptance was a mistake. I hate how I always get sick. I hate how awkward I always feel in a club. I hate the fact that I am just too afraid to do anything with my life. I hate how some people seem to be so happy, after doing jackshit for so long. I hate how some people seem to just get more and more. I hate how dusty my res room is. I hate the fact that my parents are paying for me to go to university. I hate the fact that my sister buys me clothes. I hate the fact that I need to do this course even though I don’t want to.
There’s so much more where that came from, I’m not finished…
la Dolce Vita
Imagine the possibilities, if life had no limit. If men could fly, and command the earth at will. The flowers blossom at the touch of a woman’s hand, and the sun shining at the sound of childrens’ laughter. Imagine a world with no fears, worries, consequences. Ample food and drink, so much to feed the hungry five times over a day. Imagine, if this was real…
Would life really be better if this was so? Unequivocally, every day one faces a new set of problems begging for their solutions to be found. We (admittedly, I) sneer at these tasks, hating the very fact that life is no proverbial walk in the park. Isn’t it naive to suggest this though? Is this not what actually makes life interesting? Colourful?
I am really quick to complain when my life goes wrong, when I mess up, when a relationship fails, when I fail, when I’m forced to leave my hometown again. But, in hindsight, these are the tests that will make me stronger, immune to the little niggles of everyday. I’m happy being here, I appreciate the fact that I am breathing, that all my limbs work, that I am pretty good-looking too (apparently). Seeing that I am here, why not make the most of it?
So, from now, until when the time may be, may I love life as life has loved me.
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