Sitting here under the cherry tree, looking out over the city - overcast sky and cool breeze; I play back a question that has been in my head for a few days now - does she watch me with love in her eyes? Then more questions come - faster than answers.
What does she see when she looks at me? Does she see a man she loves or is it someone she's grown comfortable with? Does she watch me with disgust or is there a bit of lust?
I've found myself contemplating. Does she see me the way I see her? The more I think about it the more I ask the more I lean towards no.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Repulsed
The road to hell is paved with good intentions - I have heard and used that adage many times before but with little to no frequency as it relates to my own life. Today I feel this adage most appropriate. Friday evening started with nothing but good intentions - today is Sunday and the negative side effects continue; yesterday it was the physical effects, today it's the emotional.
Do you're damned don't do you're still damned. I suppose you live you learn right.
I came across this while reading some time ago, I find it quite apt - suspicion is more than speculation but it falls short of proof or knowledge. But perception easily becomes reality.
Do you're damned don't do you're still damned. I suppose you live you learn right.
I came across this while reading some time ago, I find it quite apt - suspicion is more than speculation but it falls short of proof or knowledge. But perception easily becomes reality.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Bleeding fear
Fear emboldens the weak and wicked among us much like alcohol serves as liquid courage for the coward. Our streets run red with the blood of the innocent and young. Fear has imprisoned the law abiding and given freedom to the criminals - they disregard the life of others and we fear the loss of our own; so we cower and cede, surrender our given freedoms to the ruthless so that we can be left alone and our precious lives preserved. But if it continues like this, what are we preserving our life for, what are we really preserving, are we that misguided to think we can run away from it - bury our heads in the sand and pray that the criminal elements among us will just go away.
Even the lowest of miscreants feel like mafia bosses - they look at you side ways as the work across the road in front of your vehicle, as if to say knock if you bad see if not shooting you. They steal your cell phones and if you dare to call your stolen phone they cuss you out like you're a prank caller they have grown fed up of. What do we do in response - treat them like they are deserving of treatment reserved for human beings. I'm sorry, it's time the gloves came off - the time for talk was ended. We will not treat the cause today; but right now we are hemorrhaging and if something is not done sooner rather than later we are sure to die from shock. Someone please get the gauze or something to slow or stop the hemorrhage.
Two days five shot, two dead three injured; when will it stop.
Even the lowest of miscreants feel like mafia bosses - they look at you side ways as the work across the road in front of your vehicle, as if to say knock if you bad see if not shooting you. They steal your cell phones and if you dare to call your stolen phone they cuss you out like you're a prank caller they have grown fed up of. What do we do in response - treat them like they are deserving of treatment reserved for human beings. I'm sorry, it's time the gloves came off - the time for talk was ended. We will not treat the cause today; but right now we are hemorrhaging and if something is not done sooner rather than later we are sure to die from shock. Someone please get the gauze or something to slow or stop the hemorrhage.
Two days five shot, two dead three injured; when will it stop.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Pick a pane
A buddy recently asked why I decided to share my life using this forum. It was/is my therapy I replied. Why not, might have been a better response. Really, this blog is some insight into my life, my psyche, but it's not the whole picture - it's just another window pane through which I share some of my life and allow, friends, family and curious onlookers a glimpse into me. You can tell I'm a bit of a voyeur. :-)
There is still much that is unseen. I let people see what I want them to see and what they want to see - pick a pane any pane and peer through. Do you like what you see, do you detest it, does it make you laugh, think, remember, cry, does it cause you a moment of pause; does it make you say, oh I would have never thought.
Pick a pain any pane and stare, what you see is not all of me; those that see more of me are happy with what they see generally; more importantly I'm happy with me. So again why did I do this, put some of my life out there for people to see - why not; it's just me doing me.
Have a peek through a pane at my pain, joy, sorrow, laughter, love, sex/lust, decadence... Does my life bother you? It doesn't bother me. Do you love me, loathe me or stuck somewhere in between?
Take your pick, I'll be waving at you from the other side of my pane. Happy viewing.
There is still much that is unseen. I let people see what I want them to see and what they want to see - pick a pane any pane and peer through. Do you like what you see, do you detest it, does it make you laugh, think, remember, cry, does it cause you a moment of pause; does it make you say, oh I would have never thought.
Pick a pain any pane and stare, what you see is not all of me; those that see more of me are happy with what they see generally; more importantly I'm happy with me. So again why did I do this, put some of my life out there for people to see - why not; it's just me doing me.
Have a peek through a pane at my pain, joy, sorrow, laughter, love, sex/lust, decadence... Does my life bother you? It doesn't bother me. Do you love me, loathe me or stuck somewhere in between?
Take your pick, I'll be waving at you from the other side of my pane. Happy viewing.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Dreamt awake
11:45pm, 10 May 2010, I awake screaming from a dream; last thing I remember from it is the dead ghostly face of my grandmother. Her final attempt to scare me, her dark skin wrinkled and leathery, now pale with no sign of life, tiny creases around her lips - vacant eyes aglow, white, with no pupils. Am at her house, but it's not her house - we're there, my mom, dad and some faces I don't know; I arrive with Sofie but then she disappears, but my thoughts and attention are not on her so I don't mind.
My father makes a joke which my mother does not like, she is visibly annoyed at him like she usually is; but I find my father's crack at her expense quite amusing. Then out of nowhere granny materializes. She is preceded by a scent; something ancient, like incense from some pagan ritual, it's distinct, it must be the smell of death. She is wearing a black dress with black embroidered flowers, black veil over her head - she is lamenting her death, sorrowfully weeping, "I'm 2 feet under" she says; "I down there..." I am unmoved by her story, her plight; I never cared much for her story - hers and mine was never a relationship of love; there was never a relationship. She is staring me in the face as she laments to me and I walk away from her - my action angers her. Some how she is now hovering over me - I try to look up at her to confront her but she restrains me. I feel the rage from my dislike for her overwhelm me - it is stronger than her supernatural force to hold me down against my will, I turn my upper body towards her - she wails at me like a banshee, bright white light beams from her eyes and mouth; I reach out my hands and grab hold of her black dress and begin to pull on her with all my might - pulling her down from over me - I scream, I feel the struggle, her force, I hear myself scream from beyond the unconscious of sleep.
"You ok?" Sofie touches my feet - I'm wide awake now, not a hint of slumber in my body. Wide awake with the vision of death staring down at me - I am not afraid, I lay there, annoyed, defiant - I am not afraid.
Sitting here now 12:16am, 11 May 2010. Other than giving birth to my mother some 60 odd years ago, I now have one other thing to thank my grandmother for - in her death, she reached from out the grave to disturb my sleep, and give me a reason to hit the books, more alert than I've been for the entire day. I suppose I should say thank you granny - it would be the first time those words ever came from my thoughts to her whatever.
My father makes a joke which my mother does not like, she is visibly annoyed at him like she usually is; but I find my father's crack at her expense quite amusing. Then out of nowhere granny materializes. She is preceded by a scent; something ancient, like incense from some pagan ritual, it's distinct, it must be the smell of death. She is wearing a black dress with black embroidered flowers, black veil over her head - she is lamenting her death, sorrowfully weeping, "I'm 2 feet under" she says; "I down there..." I am unmoved by her story, her plight; I never cared much for her story - hers and mine was never a relationship of love; there was never a relationship. She is staring me in the face as she laments to me and I walk away from her - my action angers her. Some how she is now hovering over me - I try to look up at her to confront her but she restrains me. I feel the rage from my dislike for her overwhelm me - it is stronger than her supernatural force to hold me down against my will, I turn my upper body towards her - she wails at me like a banshee, bright white light beams from her eyes and mouth; I reach out my hands and grab hold of her black dress and begin to pull on her with all my might - pulling her down from over me - I scream, I feel the struggle, her force, I hear myself scream from beyond the unconscious of sleep.
"You ok?" Sofie touches my feet - I'm wide awake now, not a hint of slumber in my body. Wide awake with the vision of death staring down at me - I am not afraid, I lay there, annoyed, defiant - I am not afraid.
Sitting here now 12:16am, 11 May 2010. Other than giving birth to my mother some 60 odd years ago, I now have one other thing to thank my grandmother for - in her death, she reached from out the grave to disturb my sleep, and give me a reason to hit the books, more alert than I've been for the entire day. I suppose I should say thank you granny - it would be the first time those words ever came from my thoughts to her whatever.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Insomniac Heart
Have you ever
Slept wide awake, eyes wide shut cause your heart still aches
Have you ever
Replayed each moment, each place, that now leaves you in this empty space
Have you ever
Wished your reality was a dream, a terrible scene on your movie screen
Have you ever
Laid awake praying for a break, from the bitter tears streaming down your face
Have you ever
Wondered why nothing stays the same, question why things have changed
Have you ever
Thought why things don't work as planned, ask why you were dealt this hand
Have you ever
Asked your self what went wrong, can I get through this, am I that strong
Have you ever
Stopped to ask yourself, when will this soliloquy come to an end
Have you ever
Tried to sleep while your heart weeps
Have you ever
Slept wide awake, eyes wide shut cause your heart still aches
Have you ever
Replayed each moment, each place, that now leaves you in this empty space
Have you ever
Wished your reality was a dream, a terrible scene on your movie screen
Have you ever
Laid awake praying for a break, from the bitter tears streaming down your face
Have you ever
Wondered why nothing stays the same, question why things have changed
Have you ever
Thought why things don't work as planned, ask why you were dealt this hand
Have you ever
Asked your self what went wrong, can I get through this, am I that strong
Have you ever
Stopped to ask yourself, when will this soliloquy come to an end
Have you ever
Tried to sleep while your heart weeps
Have you ever
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Better days
Better days will come
No more shedding tears over wasted years
Better days will come
No more cold, lonely, sleepless nights,
Better days will come
No more wondering why, meaningless fights
Better days will come
No more silently questioning your worth
Better days will come
No more crying, wallowing, wondering why it hurts
Better days will come
No more wishing to rewind time
Better days will come
No more living in the past
Better days will come
It's darkest before the dawn
Better days will come
From this ash you spring, reborn
Better days will come
Better days will come
Are you ready?
No more shedding tears over wasted years
Better days will come
No more cold, lonely, sleepless nights,
Better days will come
No more wondering why, meaningless fights
Better days will come
No more silently questioning your worth
Better days will come
No more crying, wallowing, wondering why it hurts
Better days will come
No more wishing to rewind time
Better days will come
No more living in the past
Better days will come
It's darkest before the dawn
Better days will come
From this ash you spring, reborn
Better days will come
Better days will come
Are you ready?
House keeping skills would be considered an asset
Being a good housekeeper does not equate to being a good wife, much like being domesticated and paying the bills does not equate to being a good husband. I have in the recent past realised that is the perception of a number of married folk; I'm not sure when that notion became the accepted truth (at least for some), but it did. I too have been guilty of subscribing to that thought process and I could tell you I could not have had it more incorrect. While any spouse will admit to being grateful for the assistance in carrying out the house work - that is but a small part of this thing called marriage. Relationships and by extension marriage should come with a handbook - a how to guide.
I certainly do not profess to be a guru on the subject of marriage - mine is still a work in progress, a prototype if you will, we're still working out the kinks. But I can tell you this much, most people do not set out to marry a life long maid or butler - they marry a life long partner, a team mate (which is not the same as a soul mate/who ever coined that phrase has deluded and mislead a lot of people and should be hunted down and shot). Someone that knows (or at least is willing to learn) your strengths and weakness and compliment them - someone that will help you bring your A game. Most people just want a companion, someone to share the happy moments and the not so happy moments in their life.
We often treat our relationships like games - jokingly and not so jokingly referring to what we perceive as commendable/notable actions as "earning points" (admittedly men to this more than women). Often this is only a game for one person, with the other person getting the bitter short end of that stick. Really, if you are going to do something with your partner do it because you want to - not for sport or some misguided sense of obligation/duty. It is more than likely that they see through your bullshit, I'm almost certain that your spouse being of at least average intelligence was one of the criteria for marrying them. Simple example, if you don't want to stay home or be around your spouse then don't; don't stay because you think you should - you will only end up being physically present, but emotionally and mentally absent; which does nothing but make your partner feel distant/disconnected, which may lead to feelings of regret and resentment. And if at no time at all you feel you want to be around that man or that woman - then probably marriage/relationship is not for you and you should opt out. There is an exit clause.
This is no cake walk, and you probably won't get it right all the time - and guess what, it is more work than your 8 - 4 or 9 - 5. But if you want it, work for it. Damn it, I don't always want to be around my wife and child; and I certainly do not claim to understand marriage (or be the best husband for that matter) - believe it or not sometime I ask myself why did I get married. But every now and then I remember why, and every now and then I discover a new reason.
Hey marriage is not meant for everyone - I can't say with certainty it is meant for me , especially not by the standards set which I gleefully repeated after the pastor. I'm by know means perfect (God knows I am not without a few "character flaws") but until such time as I figure I do not want to be married (if I ever do) - I will be right here, trying to make heads or tails of this thing called marriage. It's gonna be one hell of a ride, but I'm always up to a good challenge.
I certainly do not profess to be a guru on the subject of marriage - mine is still a work in progress, a prototype if you will, we're still working out the kinks. But I can tell you this much, most people do not set out to marry a life long maid or butler - they marry a life long partner, a team mate (which is not the same as a soul mate/who ever coined that phrase has deluded and mislead a lot of people and should be hunted down and shot). Someone that knows (or at least is willing to learn) your strengths and weakness and compliment them - someone that will help you bring your A game. Most people just want a companion, someone to share the happy moments and the not so happy moments in their life.
We often treat our relationships like games - jokingly and not so jokingly referring to what we perceive as commendable/notable actions as "earning points" (admittedly men to this more than women). Often this is only a game for one person, with the other person getting the bitter short end of that stick. Really, if you are going to do something with your partner do it because you want to - not for sport or some misguided sense of obligation/duty. It is more than likely that they see through your bullshit, I'm almost certain that your spouse being of at least average intelligence was one of the criteria for marrying them. Simple example, if you don't want to stay home or be around your spouse then don't; don't stay because you think you should - you will only end up being physically present, but emotionally and mentally absent; which does nothing but make your partner feel distant/disconnected, which may lead to feelings of regret and resentment. And if at no time at all you feel you want to be around that man or that woman - then probably marriage/relationship is not for you and you should opt out. There is an exit clause.
This is no cake walk, and you probably won't get it right all the time - and guess what, it is more work than your 8 - 4 or 9 - 5. But if you want it, work for it. Damn it, I don't always want to be around my wife and child; and I certainly do not claim to understand marriage (or be the best husband for that matter) - believe it or not sometime I ask myself why did I get married. But every now and then I remember why, and every now and then I discover a new reason.
Hey marriage is not meant for everyone - I can't say with certainty it is meant for me , especially not by the standards set which I gleefully repeated after the pastor. I'm by know means perfect (God knows I am not without a few "character flaws") but until such time as I figure I do not want to be married (if I ever do) - I will be right here, trying to make heads or tails of this thing called marriage. It's gonna be one hell of a ride, but I'm always up to a good challenge.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
What's good
What's good?
The way you make me feel
What's good?
Your hands against my skin, your kiss upon my lips
What's good?
The way you are with words
What's good
The way you say nothing and tell me everything
What's good?
Your smell, your taste, your aroused face
What's good?
Your lips when you say you want me, the look that says you need me
What's good
Everything about you being with me, me being with you, us being together
What's good?
You
The way you make me feel
What's good?
Your hands against my skin, your kiss upon my lips
What's good?
The way you are with words
What's good
The way you say nothing and tell me everything
What's good?
Your smell, your taste, your aroused face
What's good?
Your lips when you say you want me, the look that says you need me
What's good
Everything about you being with me, me being with you, us being together
What's good?
You
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Just thinking
It's the thought that counts. Or does it, really, does the thought of doing something really count, does it matter. If the thought never materialises or the thought is never shared, does it still count. If I thought of doing a good gesture and I never got around to doing it does it still count. If I tell you the thought but I never took any action to make the thought materialise - then does the thought still count. What if there was a good reason for not moving it from a thought to a physical thing does the thought still count. Or well just some my thoughts on thoughts.
Dancing
Her ambrosia fills my nostrils, floods my senses
Hands firm, steady against her lower back
Kisses of her warm breath float about
Pale moon light dances on her skin glistening with sweat
Bodies move rhythmically to the thump of the bass, beats of our pulse
Closer tighter we draw, thoughts turn to dips and sways of the hips
Music blaring, no words speaking, pulses racing, waist lines rolling, desires covertly revealing
Silence, in a room filled with noise, realisation, we know what we want
Fade to black, back to the now, now is not our time
But wait, wait but a moment, soon, I'll be yours, you'll be mine
Hands firm, steady against her lower back
Kisses of her warm breath float about
Pale moon light dances on her skin glistening with sweat
Bodies move rhythmically to the thump of the bass, beats of our pulse
Closer tighter we draw, thoughts turn to dips and sways of the hips
Music blaring, no words speaking, pulses racing, waist lines rolling, desires covertly revealing
Silence, in a room filled with noise, realisation, we know what we want
Fade to black, back to the now, now is not our time
But wait, wait but a moment, soon, I'll be yours, you'll be mine
Labour day
My head throbs and my eyes fill like tiny grains of sand have been poured in them - my Visa to slumberland has expired without my knowledge and I have been unceremoniously deported to the land of the conscious, but at this moment this land is not my home. I wish to return to the land of slumber but at this moment I am not wanted. In the words of a budding poet, she introduced me to her cousin hangover this morning - and hangover is not half as pretty as the alcohol that came before. It was a good night though, Sofie, music, alcohol and the occasional shit talk with some acquaintances equal one hell of a good time. So I suppose suffering the throbbing head and the burning eyes is a small price to pay for having a blast. This is going to be the last time for me and fete for a little while, but when I resurface - look out.
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