mwaaa?

i'm almost afraid to blog again after having left it unattended for so long. but oh well, time to get back on the horse (at least until i moer off again). life at the moment is hectic. so hectic in fact that i find myself quite confused, and stoopid unanswerable questions knock on my cranium walls: who am i really? what am i doing with my life? why do people keep dissapointing me? where the hell are my car keys?

sometimes i think becoming a hermit might be a positive step... but then i remember that longing feeling for someone to share my life with; realise that that person wost most likely not go into hiding with me; wonder if they would be able to stay interested in me and my alter-ego; and then i proceed to immediately become utterly and intensely depressed. the mental cycle of a lemming?

Sunday, November 14, dream: queen and i vs. robbie williams

i’m at a queen concert (yes queen with the very dead freddie) and enjoying the music with my mullet (don’t really have one). all of a sudden, robbie williams jumps up on stage and starts mocking queen’s music by running up and down the stage half-naked (in that stupid little speedo he sometimes wears) and mimicking their music while pulling devilish faces. queen and freddie mercury gets pissed of and start crying, they then proceed to smash up their guitars and the amps etc.
in the meantime i feel like i could kill robbie for ruining a brilliant last performance (freddie just came back from death for this specific concert). then the little a-hole of a robbie starts singing ‘she’s the one’ (coincidentally i actually love this song) and i decide to get up on stage and take revenge on behalf of the weeping queens. i translate his song into Afrikaans: i was young (“jy sing kak)… we were one (jy sing kak)… we’ll be flyyying (jy sing kaaaaak).

i then abruptly woke up screaming.

November 8 – 13…

i documented none of my dreams during this period because of having repeated near-death experiences which simply took up too much of my time.

i wrote exams.

sorry.

Sunday, November 7, dream: the shipping news

i’m born into a concentration of some kind, the really scary deathly one. conditions are seriously bad; people there get murdered just for looking at an authority figure strangely. the camp doubles for a slave camp where you can get bought by people (and that’s if you’re lucky). there are no signs of my parents, as if they never existed even (freak of nature), and for some reason this is evident in my dream. there are however two other young people that i get grouped with coincidentally, a young boy who is seen as my brother, and an older girl-come-woman that acts as my sister and mother. when my sister is all grown-up she becomes a medical doctor and treats the people in the camp. she is killed one day by some pissed off official in front of my brother and i, her face crushed with a boulder on a stack of newspapers(?). after the official leaves – laughing through his cigar-stained teeth and wreaking of old sweat – my dead sister talks to me: “get out, do what you can but just get out”. i soon become a sailor after persuading the same ass of an official that he can make a lot of money starting a fleet of cruising ships. he falls for it, and i get a new job cleaning the incredibly huge ships on the outside. this feat is accomplished by suspending me by a rope using empty coconut shells as foot-holds. this is further done while the ship is cruising on open oceans. i constantly fear losing my balance and falling into the water where i would only be left behind.

*extra scene* find myself suspended in water in an ocean with perfect buoyancy. the visibility here is amazing, 100m easily. beneath me (this environment is HUGE) lay 15 to 20 cruising ship wrecks. the details are amazing … dreamlike (go figure).

honour is a farce

legends are not made by winning mediocre disputes, only impossible battles, and victory carries more weight in the face of desperation.
But mediocre disputes cost less lives than impossible battles. and the desperate soon become the tyrants. pride is a double-edged sword, for along with invincibility comes complacency.

Lol

Americans have different ways of saying things. They say ‘elevator’ we say ‘lift’ … ’they say ‘President’, we say ‘stupid psychopathic git’…

symphony

the heart is a beautifully fragile organ. it is not easily given away, and guarded sometimes to excess, often with irrevocable consequences. some hearts are just naturally more beautiful than others, exalted in purity, like crystal glass among tainted tumblers. when they shatter, their fragments sparkle brightly and hauntingly, and the sound they make, is beautiful.

letter for i, the one i never gave you:

i guess i owe you my gratitude. although you hurt me deeply, i wasn’t very good to you either. we poisoned each other - sliding down the rabbit hole; circling more like enemies: a vicious and dark game played by both but won by neither, and resulting in tragedy. denial kept me from acknowledging what i knew from the very start: a relationship born from too much intensity cannot sustain itself. i make no excuses for myself. my behaviour was damaging. if it wasn’t for you however, i would probably have killed myself, and would never have found my soul. and though i will miss you till eternity’s end, i don’t want to see or speak to you again. too much have been said between you and i, the words still burning like acid, and we both bear the scars of a friendship gone too deep.

may i please have a cup of petrified egg yoke?

all the words have already been written, it’s just up to us to rearrange them.