Christmas Eve.

It's christmas eve...no shocker there about how quickly this all happened. It all kind of esculated really quickly from "Hey, it's exactly one month till christmas" to this.

It's pretty though. I love how the christmas tree lights create a surreal ambiance.

The gifts are already under the tree...we like things set-up around here. Although, how Santa got through our none-existant chimeny is a mystery to me. I think he's more conventional nowadays...what with using sliding doors and the occasional window.

Speaking of conventional...

We had a marvellously UNconventional christmas eve dinner...simply asia complete with great wine and christmas balls.

The real fireworks show is only tomorrow you see. Why ruin our gnawing hunger with a great meal tonight when we're going to walk away from lunch tomorrow more stuffed than the turkey we just ate?

It's all very logical.

So...turkey, gammon, crayfish and the rest of ethiopia's food supply in hand- im embracing all things merry, festive and cheery tomorrow.

Have a great one.

Mirror Image.

Mirrors are funny things.

There's no hiding from yourself in a room full of them...every bit of your present and obtainable existence staring back at you from every possible angle.

It's almost like stepping in front of a mirror gives us some unprecedented right to pass judgement on ourselves...as though that obligation to "Love ourselves for who we are" doesn't exist.

I suppose we all get to want things. You know...all that stuff like being smarter, better, faster, stronger...that stuff we pretend we don't yearn to be. That stuff that we so often try to change and, with some exceptions, eventually go back to hating.

But guess what...every one of us has something that someone else stands in front of the mirror and wishes to have or be.

Doesn't that make you feel a little better?

There is something else though...something that scares me more than seeing someone in the mirror that I want to be. It's just the opposite that scares me in fact.

What happens when you look in the mirror one day and have to question who the fuck you are? What happens when you dont know who you want to be? What happens when you...just dont know?

It's uncertainty and doubt that scare me.

But could it be that rotating the mirrors may just be easier than actually answering those questions?

Perspective.

Do you ever stop to think about those cross-roads that we inevitably come across in life?

You know...those ones that pop up every time that we are forced to make a decision that would ultimately involve more than one specific outcome; or the ones that solicit an answer from us...as though we really have any clue as to which direction we wish to head in next.

Or even those that leave our world so inverted that we want to go back to that place that brought you to this perplexity in the first place.

Sometimes I think it really would just be easier to go back. Maybe do something akin to a life sized u-turn, hit the gas and set right my past of so many mistakes and wrong-doings.

Wouldn't that just be such a weight to lift off one's shoulders? Knowing that you could re-live situations in which we've left people hurt, hating and haunted. Wouldn't it be so great to know that all of those stupid mistakes could disappear into something like a void of things that never happened.

But here's an equation I want you to think about....

Take a person...any one- seeing that we've all made mistakes- and think about their life. Now think about all of the mistakes they've made and people that have come and gone. Now minus those two things from their life. What do you end up with?

You'd end up with a different person.

If you really consider it...our mistakes are the very things that make us who we are. True- they are often best left not praised but if we dont make them then how will we truly learn?

Acknowledge who you are now and embrace the choice of which road to travel because more often than not; you're going to be left with a better understanding of life.

Church Haven.

My blog count for november seems to be dwelling somewhere dangerously close to very, very little. This is definitely no competition but at the end of the day my publicly broad-casted point of view has left a lot to be desired.

I cannot say that I have reached this problem due to any lack of imagination (to re-create the endless things that take place in my mind) or, for that matter, motivation to get off my ass and type something up. BUT: naturally even considering the source of my demise would probably take me on a long road that, in the end, gets me nowhere.

So, for now: I want to focus on the things that I can blog about.

If someone were perhaps try looking for me, they would do best to venture up the west coast to this tiny little place called church-haven. With all but twenty houses and a little dirt road, it wouldn't take any dear watson to locate me.

It's so quiet here. The size of it is totally dominated by the tremendous lagoon that stretches farther than the eye can see; but mostly, this place is so withdrawn from so many things. It always amazes me that it takes a place like this to allow me to fully consent to complete relaxation...and now that I am here, I am so content.

I am content with simply being. With listening to the fire as it hisses at the damp wood or staring out the window contemplating the weather, the birds and this amazing place I'm in. Or, my favourite, lying on the couch listening to my granny giggling at the book that she is reading.

It truly is about the little things in life.

Life, unexpected.

There is an annoying habit that people have gotten into of late. The more I get annoyed by it, the more it seems to surround me.

People have this sudden tendancy to say "I feel like" and "Just saying" at the beginning and end of almost every single sentence that sprouts out of their mouths.

Surely everyone hasn't lost their imagination along with their entire vocabulary?

It's strange to think about...trends in general I mean. People will go from saying, doing or wearing one thing to something completely different without giving oneself so much as a chance to think about it.

I have done a few assignments of late and other than being for completely different subjects...for the majority of the time they all add to one point that is now more clear than ever before:

The world has so much influence on us...whether we know it or not. There are things out there that are seriosuly out to get us.

I dont mean things like gun-wielding crooks or animals that can eat us or natural disasters or estate agents and tele-sales operators...I am talking about the things that we don't expect to find somewhat threatened by.

Things like our online addiction taking over our offline lives, or losing ourselves for the sake of keeping relevant. What about forgetting about that belief that we once had in ourselves, just to be the person society wants us to be?

But in the end people just pretend to be doing what they want to be doing because they're too shit scared to be somethig different...something unforeseen.

Live to be a a little unexpected, you may just discover something wonderful.

Hurt.

Something that I heard somebody saying the other day really stuck with me. They said "I dont have time to look out for or worry about other people all the time. If I start caring about every single person's feelings then I could so easily loose track of my own. Why should I put the effort in and care so deeply for someone else when it's so easy for them to hurt me. Is it really worth while to allow yourself to be weakened so much by others?"

I have had different versions of this argument so many times with myself. I always seem to conclude with the same answer that would be expected of any empathetic human being. That answer that makes you feel good about yourself and makes people say "Hey, that's a nice person."

But now when I look at how that one person put it, my view has been somewhat edited. That is not to say that I am some lonesome hard-hearted-hannah with no friends only foes...it just means that perhaps I have been a little inconsiderate of myself.

I love being that person that someone turns to. I love being the only other person in the entire world that knows somebody's secret. I love feeling completely needed by someone else.

So then why do I feel like the wall around my heart should be a little higher than I initially thought?

I think that we do need to protect ourselves from a lot of things. I find it hard to believe that the people I love so much are part of that over-crowded box of things that I should watch out for. However, sometimes it is the people we love the most that we should be most cautious of. For it has been said that these are the people that could hurt us the most.

That is something that agree with. I trust some people with everything my heart can let me but I know, deep down past the denial of this fact, that they could walk away and rip a human-sized hole through my world without so much as a second thought.

But then again, we can't all go around waiting for the worst to happen. We cannot live in expectation of upset because we think that somebody may fracture our very being.

We just need to be careful...not of loving to much or having a surplus of empathy.

I think what we need to be most careful of is not living or growing in our relationships because we have some sort of trepidation of being disappointed

I guess we are all scared of something....

Like the dark
Or spiders
Or never findng love
Or being the spotlight in a room full of strangers

Or just being hurt.

Travel Bug.

I want to get away. I want to fly away.

Wouldn't that be completely spectacular. I want to escape to some remote place that nobody has heard of, or spend my days on white sandy beaches or in exotic jungles.

Maybe I just want to be somewhere where nobody knows me. Not in a "I can start over, live a new life, change my name" dramatic way. Just in a "I am a complete foreigner to this place, these people, this culture" way.

There aren't so many amazing places in the world for nothing...they are there just waiting to be discovered.

I want to go somewhere and be wowed by something. I want to fall completely in love with a place...its people, its buildings, its ways of life. That is what I really want right now.

new week.

another sunday has come and gone and it seems that i will be entering into another dismal monday. and i dont mean to be morbid by making use of the term "dismal" but what can i say: mondays have a tendancy to make me feel like i'd rather be elsewhere experiencing a thursday or friday. or something.

yesterday started off with yet another broken window on my car.
it's almost habitual to find glass lying on the ground nowadays.
i am over hating the criminals...i just hate the fact that they get rewarded from breaking into the car. and this time they were REALLY desperate because they literally stole EVERYTHING (from my mapbook to an amp in my boot to a tiny little keyring in my rearview mirror).

so i guess it's off to the glass fitters again tomorrow.

the rest of my weekend was relatively relevant to my mood. if that makes any sense. and it also gave me the chance to confirm a few things (thanks for unknowingly helping me along) that were looming unresolved in my mind.

but for now...sunday it will remain.

clutter.

i am a hoarder.

i have always thought this of myself and the happenings of today only extended my feeling of sureness on this very fact.

i am getting new cupboards you see. and naturally that means taking everything out of said storage space and relocating it no no where else but my desk, under my bed and any other suitable temporary holding.

and having all of my stuff in the open is giving me a grand opportunity to look at everything i have. which is a lot of crap. not everything...but a lot of it. i mean, have clothes from way back when when i was still one meter high with few ambitions.

and the boxes at the top of my cupboards behold even more fascinating things.
like study notes from grade 9 or lego from when i was 5 or, of course, my teddy bears that have been banished to the confines of a dusty closet.

i am not even sure why i still have some of this stuff. ive never been able to just throw something away without thinking about whether or not a will need it in some or other way in my near and far future.

and whilst i dont think i am suffering from any sort if psychological breakdown or build-up; my mind still seems to be able to make up a relatively realistic justification for what i am doing.

but for now: i will stare at the space where my cupboard usually is and ponder everything that shouldnt be in there.

books revisited.

Edward Morgan once wrote: A book is the only place in which you can examine a fragile thought without breaking it, or explore an explosive idea without fear it will go off in your face. It is one of the few havens remaining where a man's mind can get both provocation and privacy.

I am completely fascinated by the remarkable power that books have over some people in this world. Of course, different people are affected by different stories or different books in different ways; but in the end…one sole objective is so often achieved by a book: the information that our minds gather from the white pages within often stays with us long after we have read the last chapter.

Personally, I have always believed that a book is not a good one if the reader remains impervious to what their eyes have read. I do not understand the minds of those who are too lazy to think about what they are reading and who refuse to read between the lines of the spellbinding words that have been strung together.

In the words of Edmund Burke: To read without reflecting is like eating without digesting.

So many of the world's greatest thinkers were at their best in the pages of their publications. The thoughts that manifested themselves into new-age theories and ideas that people live their lives by were specifically transcribed by those human wonders to serve our very need to gain knowledge and be awed by the thoughts of another.

Albert Einstein said that: Reading, after a certain age, diverts the mind too much from its creative pursuits. Any man who reads too much and uses his own brain too little falls into lazy habits of thinking.

Although i dare argue with a man whose intelligence ranks far beyond mine, I have to disagree with him. Reading stimulates thought and imagination. Granted that when we read it is that of another's thoughts but that doesn't mean we mindlessly sit and stare at the pages of books, doing nothing to furthen our intellect.

In turn, this brings me to a question to which the answer often amuses me.
Why do people refuse to read books?

I don’t think I have ever gotten an answer to this question that hasn’t sounded like a pitiful excuse for someone who is merely too lazy to broaden their minds.
If someone cannot read then they can learn to do so. If books are too expensive to purchase then making use of a library is just as rewarding. For me, there is, of course, no true answer that would pass as acceptable.

People also may say that they do not agree with anything that is written in books. To those people I say: if you resist reading what you disagree with, how will you ever acquire deeper insights into what you believe? The things most worth reading are precisely those that challenge our convictions.

Then again, this is just me. My opinion may be of little importance to anyone else. I love getting lost in the make-believe world of literature. I love visualizing the characters of the various books that I read and the worlds in which the stories evolve. Books allow me to remain true to my already very active imagination and I frequently use books to escape. Every so often I find that I would rather live in the world of the book than that of my own reality.

I cannot help but to agree with Charles Elliot who said: Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counselors, and the most patient of teachers.

Whatever the type of book and whoever the author, i take nothing away from the fact that books are amazing. I say screw the internet and all of its complexities...there is a world of knowledge in the very place that so few care to look.

Someone pointed out to me the other day how few people go to libraries nowadays. Even worse, people are replacing books with those hand-held screens that download the books from the web. People would rather choose to sit and watch television or play on their latest gaming console than sit outside or huddled up on the couch with a good book. What is television if not a source of motivation to anyone thinking of giving up their mind’s rights to have an imagination?

And although technology is equally as amazing as books, it is quite sad that with all of the wonders and advantages that continuously developing technology brings, comes a dying race of what used to be.

In my world, the novelty of a good book will never fade. If I could pack just a suitcase of books have fallen in love with then I fear I would meet a great demise.

There are many things to argue about in this world.
For now I leave you with this: If there's a book that you wish to read but it hasn't yet been written, then why not write it yourself?

unproductive thoughts.

public speaking...god i hate those two words. especially when they're put together to form some dreadful term i don't agree with very much.

i have to do a speech on friday and rumour has it that i am already nervous.
although i do suppose that this is where those specially formulated drugs for "relaxation" come in handy. bliss.

anyway, it seems like the more wintery-than-summery summer weather is starting to ease up. i have, however, had a bit of a sense of humour failure about the presence of this wind. and i know that it's meant to clear the city of all its lurgies that wonder in the cracks of the city...but still; appreciation for it is the last thing on my mind.

in other news:
i was at the airport today.
have you ever wanted to do that "only in hollywood" scene in which you're running through the airport, chasing after someone you love? or perhaps that other scene in which you're that crazy person who wants a ticket on the "first plane outta here."

although i can't say i aspire to be completely foolish and break all sorts of rules and bones hurtling through security barriers with blustering force to stop my one true love from leaving. or maybe im foolish for thinking that people don't do that in real life. or maybe, just maybe i havn't found that person who would compel me to do that just yet.

for now: i will dream of going far, far away.

sunday evening.

tents. dust. friends. late nights. early mornings. alcohol. tea. food. sun. sunburn. hard floors. sleep deprivation. gas cookers. cow shit. sore heads. scary toilets. swimming in clothes. grass. two-minute noodles. games. strangers. people. crowds. lines. cold evenings. darkness. electro beats. loud guitars. voices. stages.good times.

it was a good weekend at rocking the daisies.

who ever said that woodstock was dead? it will never be repeated but that's not going to stop us from trying. the fact that shared interest can bring so many people together never ceases to amaze me.

but now...
now i am tired. and i can barely think straight.

oh sleep, my muse...if not anything than you are only a sweet infatuation of my body's stupor

tea.

i'm not sure what i want to write this evening.

i thought i might find inspiration in a cup of rooibos but all that is doing is telling my body that i need sleep.

come to think of it, i could write a whole blog post on how much i love tea. but i won't. although, it is good to know that when i am in dire need of something to blog about, there will always be hope within the teacup.

so for now: nothing of inspiration is creeping into my currently dull mind so i cannot leave you with anything to cogitate about.

perhaps i will just stick to ceylon.

sunny day.

what an amazingly beautiful day in the mother city.

i was begining to think that summer wasn't really ever going to properly get here, but it seems the seasons are finally acting like themselves again.

i am a rain person. i love the cold.
i feel like i'm cheating on winter with summer but i really am starting to appreciate the sun [especially when looking at how unnaturally pale i am].

and all of a sudden the beach seems like the only place to be. and i love the fact that i don't have to sit in a boring classroom, listening to some teacher speaking completely monotonously about whatever, until 15.00.

god i love being out of school. it's perfectly smashing how much there is to pity about people who are still looking at something like four years of high school to go still. projects, early mornings, essays, tests, exams...you name it, i'll pity it.

anyway, i've got my slip-slops on, my ray-bans in my bag and my car waiting to take me to camps bay.

today will be a good day.

four-thirty traffic.

i hate how some people think that they are so much better than others. you know, those people who walk around with an arrogant smile just because their deal in life is a lot better than others'.

more importantly: what is it about bmw drivers that makes them think they can drive how they please, when they please? it's like just because they drive an expensive car that can go fast they can drive around like complete tonsils.

and im not even being prejudice towards bmw drivers specifically...it's just that almost every time im screaming at an idiot in the traffic...im doing so to the rear end of a beamer.

they may as well drive around with a huge sticker on their car saying "look at me. okay, now look at you. now get the fuck out of my way."

um, no...i won't. im going to slow down to 80km/h and sit in the fast lane JUST to annoy you.

and if it's not a bmw driver then it is some chop on a cellphone who failed to pass the multi-tasking part of their drivers test or somebody else who shouldn't even have gotten their drivers in the first place.

or, even worse: a person driving a suped-up honda civic complete with neon lights and car extensions.

sigh. i promise you that i am not completely sacrilegious towards all other drivers.

sheep.

there are some facts of life that people battle to grasp. and as much as our egotistical selves may hate to admit it; we are all sheep.

it sounds strange to say it. i mean, why would i start comparing the human race to small brained fluffy things?

surely we are more intelligent?

yes, we have leaders who spring out of the woodwork and get us all following in a new direction or believing in a new thing but, to be completely honest...sometimes i really dont think we are.

we all like to be big shots and tell ourselves and everybody else that our actions aren't effected by what other people are saying or doing but everything we do is effected by another being.

in this regard, we are like sheep. we decide to run in one direction because that's what is comfortable. that is what everyone else is doing. and even when we "rebel" and run against the traffic; we are still conforming to some other accepted way of living. it's basically conformng to the ways of the unconformists.

i hate to say it but i definately don't take myself out of this equation. a lot of things that i do are completely done because other people are doing it. and i like to think that i am my own unique brand of me but my own unique brand of me has had a lot of molding done by other people. i would love to say that my hands were the ones that shaped the clay figure of my life but it's never been just me.

and even if we take sheep out of the equation, there is always SOMEONE that we need to stop and think about.

b-a-a-a-d sheep.

noon.

the noon day gun just went off. i suppose that means that i've spent half of my day being relatively unproductive.

it's quite funny that even though i expect to hear the gun at 12.00, it never fails to frighten me when it goes off. i mean, i almost just dropped my cream cheese bagel for heaven's sake.

no class today. what complete and utter bliss. sometimes i really do not feel like i am studying anything at all. i have such a spectacular timetable that permits me to do holiday-like things such as sleep in, go out and occasionally not do anything all day.

oh, and speaking of holidays: justin bieber is in town. or, at least he was. i'm not certain of his current place of occupance but last i heard he was staying in nelspruit.

who knows WHY he chose to go stay there. it's not like cape town isn't the most beautiful city in south africa. perhaps he felt like he needed to get the real african experience...in nelspruit...home of the....wait, what IS the attraction there?

apparently he has come to south africa to get away from all the stress. shame, it must be really difficult for a boy of just eleven (or however old he is) to be world famous. but i mean, what did he think was going to happen?

parents, watch out for your daughters. husbands, hold onto your wives. because the saying goes a bit differently in hollywood..."reach for the stars and fly" is more like "reach for the stars and get mobbed by screaming teeniboppers, cults dedicated to you and let's not forget the mothers and fathers who get just as excited as the children do about getting the chance to maybe touch hands with or heaven forbid share a glancing moment with the biebs." it's a wild world out there, you never know what might happen with JB around.

i for one have not been infected with the "bieber fever" so i'm not going to be making any effort to stalk his whereabouts or "get a picci" for my wall.

kids these days.

nine.am.

it's really particularly ironic that on the morning i do a presentation on "crime in south africa", my car gets broken into and a whole lot of stuff got stolen.

what's most annoying about the whole situation is that yes, they took quite a lot of valuable stuff but mostly; it is SUCH an undertaking trying to get a new drivers license and ID.

perhaps this is all karma getting of back for something. thing is, im still trying to figure out what it's trying to get me back for.


in other news:
it's the airshow today.

although i am pretty certain that it isn't being held in my suburb, planes (the really annoying, loud ones kind) have been flying over my house all morning. well, at least since i woke up an hour ago and heard them buzzing about.

and whilst i think that it's every little boy's fantasy (well, one of them) to have fighter jets zooming past; i've always preferred the quieter mornings (you know, the ones where you sleep in a bit and think about how totally blank your mind is).

anyway, to further disrupt my morning, i now have to go and look for a number for pg glass cause apparently the one in the phone book doesn't exist. and as much as i love driving around with my 'black plastic bag, cardboard and window sock' ensemble on my car, i THINK i need to get my window fixed.

such is life.

english.

it seems that some people took badly to the cement statues mounting eachother in my previous post. but then again, i don't have the need to make everything in my blog completely pc.

im sitting in english now listening to presentation after presentation of "teen pregnancy" or "crime in south africa" or "hiv/aids in south africa" (three topics that are so completely over-spoken about that i can almost recite the facts backwards.)

anyway, im presenting sometime in this lesson.
"crime in south africa"
i definatley feel totally motivated to speak about this (que your realization that im being totally sarcastic).

morning.

i love this image. but, not to inconvenience anybody, for today i think the egg should have remained unhatched just a little longer. it really would have been lovely to have maybe an hour longer to loll in my bed, somewhere between sleep and unconciousness.

im sitting in my car right now, feeling a bit like someone who lives in their vehicle. but i can't find it in to me totally regret the fact that i didn't see the message that we got sent saying "no class at 8.30 on thursday" because i am currently witnessing something quite amusing.

and before i illustrate to you what i am seeing, i might just say that i am highly against women wearing velvet tracksuits in public. it's completely unattractive. and unless you're a granny of 80 who has decided to rock it with your own version of a juicy couture tracksuit (because let's face it: grannies are permitted to do what they please), there really is no excuse to wear one.

now see here: there are two women (and one really old man (the sugar daddy?)) standing on the pavement in front of my car playing catch-up with eachother in the loudest of voices (no, i don't care about your pilates class yesterday). and they are both wearing velvet tracksuits. and the way that both of them look just makes me realize how EASY it is for people to develop stereotypes. because my stereotype of a women who has a wardrobe of different colour big-name velvet tracksuits is exactly what i'm seeing right now.

people should just dress their age. and that doesn't even mean you have to be boring. but age-appropriate attire would be nice. for women AND men come to think of it.

and maybe my opinion is of little interest to these gold jewelry cladded, too much make-up wearing women; but still...ranting is always a little fun.

fire.

fire, anyone?

did you know that amongst all of those exceptionally helpful (and often life saving) hot-lines out there, there is one that has specifically caught my attention: the pyromaniacs hot-line.

"pyromaniacs hot-line, how can we help you today?"
"i have a match in my hand."
"okay, don't do anything. we're going to talk you through this. slowly put it down."

seriously?
i mean maybe i am just being completely unsympathetic to all those sufferers out there but surely there is a large limitation of what i hot-line can do for someone who is holding a lit match over a dry piece of veld on the slopes of table mountain.

what happens when they get to the end of the match? because even though the pyromaniac at hand is taking action with the best intentions by phoning for help; it is very possible that heavin forbid he (or she) does what a lot of us tend to do when a match nears our fingers: we drop it.

and in a twist to this tale: they advertise themselves on match-boxes. that's either very clever or very dumb. you decide.

23.52.

messages seem to flow through the air like they are made out of nothing. messages of love, messages of hate, messages of anguish, messages of friendship...they all seem to get lost in between the billions of people in this world.

how did we manage to find miscommunication so easily? better yet, how did we get to the place where we don't communicate at all?

it's a lonley place here inside a world where everything is stuck inside one's heart and mind. and when something escapes it just seems like an empty welcoming in reply. why bother even trying to explain when it seems like you don't really have anything to say back? i think that's where communication reaches its barrier. unwilling contributers enter the game and then it's like fighting a losing battle with yourself.

and maybe we do secretly try to let people in. in time we allow those hand-picked few into our hearts without them really realizing it. but even here, we sometimes lack the communication ability to actually say what's on our minds. and so quickly we arrive at the place that we started because we were too damn stupid to let ourselves feel something.

then again, sometimes we are just as stupid to believe that by telling people things; in the end situations will end with better effect.

and people have a tendancy to avoid the things and facts that they too scared to face. like those poor fools who declare undying love for someone, only to get a "i have to go" in response. it's the same concept all around.

can we revive something that is so far gone? it's possible.
saying "anything is possible" is just mindless dreaming but this; this is possible to do.

what is life and love and joy and hate and envy and emotion in general if not great reason to express oursleves?

rain.

i'm not sure why but i feel like telling people that it started raining about half-an-hour ago. as though something big is going to emerge from the fact that there are drops of water falling from some grey puffy things in the sky. but it's almost like i have more motivation to sleep to sleep now.

i bet that was a really informing post. hope i managed to alter your life in some way.

kids.

what an insanely chaotic evening. little kids running around, throwing food all over the place and acting like they own the house that isn't theirs.

but family is family so we can just accept the little things about them that annoy us. most of the time.

one the other hand, something i don't have to accept is something (or someone) i saw today. it really was one of those moments in which i was hit with a sudden realization. although, i suppose sudden realizations have to come from something that you havn't noticed before; this, i have.

here's the thing:

when did it become okay for eight year olds to wear full make-up, diamond jewelry, louis-vuitton sunglasses and walk around flashing mummy's gold credit card and saying things like "uh.my.gash" and "that's so fetch"?

maybe i'm just a hermit who is oblivious to how times have changed but hell, i still think kids should be kids. when i was eight i was climbing trees, acting like a goof and spending my time thinking about how best to salvage the pebble i'd thrown into the pool.

and yes, granted not every child is a complete tomboy but in theory my child obligations to just being in kid were still in tact. and don't fool yourself if you think these pre-teen premature twenty-one year olds don't exist because i spotted one today. around about the time i had my epiphany.

maybe we can find someone to blame. like hannah montana. or gossip magazine publishers. or e! entertainment. or beyonce. or maybe just america in general. all the "catch phrases" and latest fashions seem to percolate into the young minds via everything american.

i think i liked the world in general a little better when people were coming up with brilliant things like the lion king and the jungle book. at least back then parents didn't have to worry about their children being completely effected by how good mowgli's one-piece looked on him.

then again, perhaps i am just ranting. maybe someone should throw me a document giving me the twenty-first century breakdown of what is okay nowadays cause it seems like my judgement is getting a little old-fashioned.

sunday.

i've just noticed how little illustration to my words my blog has. i think i have...one picture...yes, one.

but i think i'm content with it being dull and not asthetically pleasing. you don't need pictures to get a message across.

blind people still communicate don't they?

but i think blind people are besides the point.

anyway, i think i am on holiday. i say "think" because it's not actually a holiday i'm on. it's one.week.long. and we have 2 assignments.

although, i think i should just count my blessings and move on to other (more important) matters.

there are currently many things to ponder. about life in general. and people. and friends.

but it's sunday, let's relax.

1st.

spring day and it was pouring with rain. weren't the flowers meant to be blossoming and the birds singing and the bees buzzing?
no?
oh, yes i forgot about global warming for a second.
but i cannot find it in me to complain because i love the rain. everything about it from the smell to the way it makes me feel.

so i think i will let myself to continue to ignore the big "G.W" until such a time as the sun shines. or there are floods in the middle of summer or snow falls in the city bowl. cause in truth, nowadays the weather seems completely premitted to do what it pleases, when it pleases.

anyway i think i missed the part in my life when i told myself that procrastination is ok and that i should be a fully licensed fool for doing said thing.

i was meant to read a novel as part of an assignment.
i didn't.
i was mean't to complete the novel by the end of august.
i didn't.

but this is where it gets interesting:

our mark comes from a book review on the assigned book that i have to hand in tomorrow. bluddy hell, i wasn't very well going to read Reef in the space of an afternoon SO i did what any good student does...i googled "Reef by Romesh Gunesekera" and let me just tell you: the wonders of technology and search engines never cease to amaze me.

i DID do my book review. and not only do i sound like i've read and enjoyed the book but i also sound remotely intelligent. who ever said you actually have to read set-work books?

in other news: it's ten.pm. not late; but close enough to my bed time to say that i am going to sleep.

mumble.

today wasn't anything extraordinary. but then again, there isn't anything wrong with a bit of normality once in a while.

two of my song-induced thoughts for the day:

"if today was your last day. would you make it up by mending a broken heart. you know it's never too late. to shoot for the stars. regardless of who you are. so do whatever it takes.cause you can't rewind a moment in this life"

"i run from hate. i run from prejudice. i run from pessimists. but i run too late. i run my life. or is it running me. i run from my past. i run too fast. or too slow it seems. when lies become the truth. that’s when I run to you"

what was that that i was saying about music and its ability to describe the things that are running through our minds?

anyway; i witnessed two supposed car gaurds having it out with one another today all because the one (a young boy of about eleven) was attempting to take any business that decided to park on the older guy's "turf" away from him.

and whilst it was really distracting hearing them braul over teritory while i was trying to complile a "rough work" for an essay i already had the neat of; it made me laugh to see two people being so silly.

i think i almost felt like getting out of my car, handing them each twenty-rand and telling them to go out and promote world peace instead. of course i didn't actually do that in the end.

hmm, i think that's about all the blogging inspiration i have for this evening.
story time is over kids.

striking.

monday. it's a new day, it's a new week.

it seems that the nationwide striking has come to some sort of temporary standstill.
and whilst i am all for public protesting to get a point across...the point actually has to remain relevent throughout the rioting in order for me to remain respectful of the "angry people". so when babies start dying in hospitals and matric learners start failing all because people are demanding an impossible increase in their salaries; i stop agreeing with striking as a means to achieving a general standard of "something better".

and i suppose the same goes for my pattern of thinking on strkes in general (god knows i've experienced enough strikes in south africa to be able to comment on them).

what i don't, and probably never will, get is this:

why when they are striking do the municipal workers, for example, go around emptying rubbish bins onto the streets, blocking drains with newspapers and doing things of that detrimental nature?

it doesn't seem to proove any strike-worthy point other than substantiating the fact that they are a lot less intelligent than we give them credit for. because in the end; guess who has to go around cleaning it all up?

and the same goes for students who start a nice, unviolent demonstration of their disagreement with the increase in university registration fees; only to end up with a "closed until further notice" institution.

truly people do not think that by causing hundreds of thousands of rands damage they are going to make onlookers any more sympathetic to their cause...

music.

it never ceases to amaze me how much i am effected by music.
sometimes it's a beat in a song that runs over and over in my mind.
sometimes it's just a band that i can't get enough of.
mostly, it's just the lyrics.

and like i have been through phases, the music i have loved and listened to has varied too. i think in grades five to eight it was so varied that my music mind-set got so jaded as to allow me to think that the likes of andrea bocelli and gosh groban would ever do anything for me.

i've since settled into more respectable music choices.

it's rare that i get to a song on my ipod (which has very carefully selected music on it) that i can't relate to in some way or another.
and i'm not talking about that "take me to the candy shop, let me lick your lollipop" crap either...i'm talking about real, honest songs that make you think "wow; i guess i'm not the only person who feels this way."

i guess i sometimes see the lyrics to songs as a general spokesperson for the way i'm feeling. i sometimes think if i were to write about my life; the best way to do it would be to take lyrics from the thousands of songs i love and compile them into something like a novel. with no care for punctuation, grammer or sentence structure...just the raw emotion that i can extract from the words.

when my world is turning around at some unlawful speed that i cannot measure and nothing really seems to make sense anymore; at least i know i can turn around, throw my ipod to someone and say "here, listen to this song because god knows i can't explain how i'm feeling today."

music is a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy. music is the electrical soil in which the spirit lives, thinks and invents - Beethoven

minds.

i guess i am back. it's been all of two minutes and i still havn't ventured from thw computer to make some tea. i think i should just stop saying tea; maybe the craving will go away.

i was just thinking...i hate not knowing how people feel towards me.
obviously there is body language and a certain "tone" in the way they speak but for me: just taking a calculated guess on how you perceived sometimes isn't enough.

what we think is so intimate and personal. our thoughts are things that nobody else can touch if we chose not to let them. is it weird that i wan't to know what's going on inside peoples' minds?

i think everyone would like to divulge into another's mind. sometimes people are so blocked up by early-warning systems and barbed wire fences to protect themselves that the so-called obvious signs that remotely indicate what someone is thinking (that we should be able to read) disappear completely.

surely we are not that unable to trust or let people in as to rather live behind bars than speak what we feel. can we not share our inner most thoughts?
cry, laugh, scream and shout.
why don't we express on the outside what we feel on the inside?

can we no longer do that?
it shouldn't take a psychologist or psychic to figure out where our problems lie.
and yes...granted there are those that need help but what ever happened to having that person or people (be it one, two or five)that holds your complete trust?

maybe we just live in a society in which trust no longer comes naturally.
or maybe we should all just try a little harder to earn it.

tequila.

i feel like i should send a warning out to all the innocent people of the world who havn't yet discovered alcohol:

in your quest, sometime after you hit puberty, to ascertain the mysteries of the various types of alcohol in the world...skip right passed that evil little sign that will say something like "TEQUILA...right this way" because tempting as it may be...your under-age rebellion will not end well if you go down that path.

i've never been one to find the thought of taking shot after shot of any white spirit attractive and yet; i persist in doing this self-detesting act.

just make a mental note kiddies.
hard liquor won't put hair on your chest (if that's what you're into) and it won't make you cooler than everyone else. it's not going to make you invincable and it sure as hell won't dissolve your problems.

that's all.

on that topic at least.
and whilst i don't think any of my readers (all fourteen of you) are under the age of 18 or havn't experienced some sort of "wrath of the wretched drink"; i feel like i've done a good deed or something.
i guess you can just call me mr fantastic from now on.

anyway...it's sunday. which means tomorrow is monday.
can't i just run away and hide from reality for a bit?
i'm not sure i want to sit through another week. where's the fast-forward button for life?

i was hoping it would be raining today. at least then i would have some sort of excuse for spending the day in bed reading and drinking copious amounts of tea. although; the true life-lovers would probably say i don't need an excuse for that.

crap, now i have to pretend to be productive to make myself feel better about the total lack of work i have done this weekend (not that i had very much). i am sick though...does that count for something?

i suppose all life's greatest questions are answered with some mashed up version of the truth sooner or later.

for now: tea.

women.

it seems that, for the time being, my internet is once again co-operating with the general needs that i have to use it.

so i am back on the blogging strip.
welcome to my world.
it's a tired one.

what's new?

woman's day was nothing special.
being a woman i should possibly be more concerned about this but in truth; i am glad that the stupid competitions and adverts for "special (only for women) credit cards" have come to an end.
for now.

how are you actually meant to spend woman's day?

was i meant to go out and liberate my inner femininity?
should i have joined in a riot and come up with my own toi-toi routine to promote womens' rights?

i don't think there is any specific way to spend the day.

i suppose as long as being a woman means something to me, i am perfectly content with withering away in the lovely nothingness of doing...nothing.

august.

crap.

why is it already august?

i think i got too caught up in waiting for july to end that i totally missed the part where midnight turned to august.

thank god for calenders.

i know only a few things right now:

- i should blog more.
- im tired.

- it's the weekend. for me at least. im not sure how high my tolerance would be if i had any classes to attend tomorrow.

thought.

it's cold in town. the sun is shining but the mist that is seemingly consuming table mountain is eradicating all of that good feeling "winter warmth".

i love how the mist manages to look so still yet it is constantly moving. boiling over the rim of the table top, only to disappear without a trace.

i never thought that sitting in a car in a busy parking lot before class would evoke any blog-worthy thoughts; but it seems even the best of us are fooled sometimes.

i suppose i havn't had all that much to say for myself of late. nothing of inspiration has motivated me to write.

of course, any claim of "writer's block" can be extinguished because one has to be a writer before contracting this so-called indulgence of one's stupidity.

i don't think it's stupidity at all. and i am not even talking specifically about writer's block. i speak of our minds in general.

sometimes there are so many ideas in our minds; yet we can produce nothing but yet another blank page or empty answer.

in my opinion, we sometimes over-think things. which, to a degree, is good. but what ever happened to simplicity?

why is it that all too often we want to disect everything that we think?

obviously we can make some bunched up excuse that we are doing it for our own greater good but sometimes choosing to view one's thoughts simplistically is better than combing through them with excrutiating detail. not everything needs to be a paragraph long answer.

keep it simple stupid.

67 minutes.

i went through to mcgregor this weekend.
well more just saturday night but that's completely besides the point that i actually want to make.

on route to said destination; we passed the "Bike ride for Nelson Mandela Day" crew on their merry way to cape town.

to be honest, i didn't know anything about this ride and of course, after seeing big black cars with bright blue lights i immediately made the assumption that they were escorting some unimportant government official who had decided to go on holiday with his family. god, is this what the anc is doing to my mind-set?

in any case; it was only after my mom pointed out who they were that i became somewhat enlightened and semi-excited that i had seen morgan freeman for about ten seconds.

or perhaps it was just another biker dressed in the usual biker attire that i thought might of been freeman.

i have since read up on the whole project and it's really great what they are doing.
it wasn't to make morgan freeman, or any of the other celebrities, look like do-gooders to better their public image and it definatley wasn't to show the world how fun biking can really be.

no, it was done to raise awareness about Mandela Day, the cause and encourage south africans to give 67 minutes of service. be it playing with the children in an orphanage or washing dogs at the SPCA.

and even if this project's sole purpose wasn't to get international attention; they have definately gone above and beyond with grabing the attention of our fellow countries and continents. the eyes of the world are once again on south africa.

it just makes me smile really.
knowing that this country is moving up in the world so quickly.

and just to gloat a bit more about nelson mandela: the fact that one man can exist in the hearts of so many people around the world and amaze billions still is one of the greatest things about south africa.

to be honest, i cannot boast about how i made use of my 67 minutes. i didn't do anything. which is quite possibly severely hindering my duty to my country and people.

but it get's me thinking: why must we wait for people to tell us when to use our time to unselfishly help others?

what is stopping us from volunteering at the nearest animal shelter or collecting clothing for hiv positive children who don't have anthing.

the truth is, nothing is really stopping us. it is almost like we stop ourselves from breaching the barrier. and yes, there are those few that take it in their stride to help out where possible but in truth; even though a lot of us think about doing some sort of service to our country, we rarely carry out our good intentions.

south africans, who are we if not fools for remaining oblivious to so many things.

23.58.

at the times when i am hurting the most, that's when i want to run to you. cause you always knew. and time is uncanny in the way it just goes by so fast. and we dont even know eachother anymore. so it's strange that i want to seek comfort from someone who isnt really in my life.

but whatever happened, you always knew.

it's strange how thoughts catch up with us. and how time moves by so fast sometimes. but fast is seemingly slow until we wake up one day to find a couple of years have gone somewhere.

we sum our days up and try our best to find extra hours in the sun's rotation but in the end; time passes at the same speed, everyday.

people.

i've been thinking a lot lately about the people i surround myself with.
i'm not talking about the random man or lady i say a friendly "hi" to in the store, nor am i necessarily talking about the people, like my neighbours, who physically surround me.

i am talking more about the people that i see bits of myself in. the people that stand as my mirrors in an empty room; reflecting different things about myself back to me. the people who make up who i am, who i have been and who i want to be.

there is something in each of these people that helps me to deceipher the route that will ultimately get me to my future. be it the path less traveled or a known highway; all of the people i surround myself with are like tracks...helping me to discover more places on the map that is me.

of course, as is the case in any situation involving people, there is always room for hurt, anger, frustration, sadness or even jealousy that eventually equate to a dirty mass of confusion.

some people ultimately aid me in sucessfully backtracking my life. and whilst that sounds a little harsh, i dont despise anyone for doing this.

you see, i am only human. i make mistakes and so does everyone else in this space we call our world. anybody who claims never to have lied, cheated, manipulated and hated fools nobody but the fool in their reflection.

but we move on from the mistakes we make. we try our best with the things that we have and hope to god that we get to redeem ourselves sometime for the wrong turns that we take.

and going back to the people that i surround myself with...i don't stand judging anyone for who they are. if anything i stand in front of my own jury; judging only myself.

i hate myself sometimes for the things that i have said and for the mistakes that i have made. i hate that i can see those things reflecting back at me from the people in my life.

but hate is also just a four letter word. like love.
two four letter words; completely contradictiory yet so often paired hand in hand.

those who have lied to me.
those who have used me.
those who have broken me.
and those who have run away from me and left me with my thoughts.

i don't hate you.
no.
you are people in the crowd that surrounds me.
i have learnt from you so cannot find it in me to hate you.

those who have loved me.
those who have come back to me.
those who have shown compassion for me.
those who have taught me.
those who have supported me.

i am completely imperfect but you make up who i am.

thief.

dear person who broke into my car and tried to steal it

your mother never loved you. ever.
thank you for completely messing up my door handels with your screw-driver and thank you for cutting the wires to my alarm.
i specifically want to thank you for taking my money and messing up my car battery.

sorry you didn't get to steal the whole car. maybe next time.

thank you for not completely inconveniencing me.

yours truly: your new best friend.

sigh, you might guess what is going on here.
it seems sometime during last night a person tried to steal my car and broke into it.

it is all fixed now but it just really really makes me angry how people so easily make the decsion to take what isn't theirs.
i mean, these people went to so much effort to get into my car, disconnect my alarm, opens my doors etc etc.

moral of the story?
don't take what doesn't belong to you.

rainy day.

fact of the day:

despite being the first hosts of a fifa world cup to exit in the first round, bafana bafana have moved up to number 66 in the world from their prior position of 83. seventeen places up and i am sure the world looks a lot prettier from where they now stand.

even though i feel that the expectations that our country had for our team were a bit too high in accordance with what they were ever going to achieve in reality; we still managed to play hard and put on a good show.
and hey, at least we beat the french.
(i still think it would have been amusing to watch the jaw of my very patriotic high school french teacher drop when they were knocked out.)

wow, highschool...that can almost be passed as a childhood memory.

anyway, it's a cold and rainy day in the mother city. i think there is more snow predicted to fall sometime in the early hours of tomorrow morning somewhere high up on a deserted mountain pass.

im actually suprised that we are supposedly already half way through winter. we havn't experienced any of that predicted lashing wind or ten-meter high waves or even the copious amounts of flooding. it's been a somewhat silent winter for us...or perhaps it's all just a poker-face for the weather to come.

world cup.

sitting at home i have found myself listening to the radio that is on somewhere in the lounge. jacob zuma's voice is ringing through my house and this time; i am genuinely smiling at what he is saying.

in his speech to the world in the aftermatch of the 2010 world cup, he has stated one thing that im sure the majority of south africans will agree with:

"We did it well, we did it successfully and after six years of preparation, the future prospects of this country and continent do not lay dormant but will now rise to meet the endless opportunities that Africa holds."

faced with so much criticism before the world cup started, it was obvious that numerous south african spirits were dampened. however, as a south african, as a supporter and as a person who had doubts i can say that we definately proved even the most monotonous critics wrong.

and if the sucessful running of the world cup were not enough; there is definately one thing that will stand out for me.

a moment in the festivities last night that really gave me goosebumps.
it wasn't a goal.
it wasn't the magnificance of the stadium.
it wasn't even the amazing unity of the people.

no, it was the five minutes in which the father of our country, Nelson Mandela, came onto the pitch. he raised 85 000 people to their feet and bought an applause that no team could ever bring to a stadium. his smile was greater than all of the smiles of the spanish team put together.

that is our country.
this is how far we have come.

monday.

my lecturer is trying to persuade us to be more creative.
in life, in work and in every other aspect of our life.
and whilst i love getting "how best to live your life" tips courtesy of yours truly; i left tech today nostalgic about the classes i attended which ultimately left me none the wiser.

in other news of the day: the world cup is officially over.
and everyone is going on and on about the inevitable "post-world cup depression" that will soon lash the shores of our country.

yes, it is sad that the festivities and all of the south african "gees" and unity (and all those other words that show the true togetherness of our people) are coming to an end but come on; depression?

and i know that when they say "depression" they may very well be referring to the many, many people who will now not be able to rely on that income that came from their temporary world-cup job; but some people are taking said word to new heights.

no, your life will not end now that you cannot get a weekly fix of david villa shooting at the goal.
no, italy didn't win.
yes, germany came third (again)

and yes, you will find something else to do with your time other than watch soccer.

i think i will take my business science lecturer's advice on this one and "find somthing new to get excited about in life."

routine.

this week is a nothing week.
and although i am going away from thursday to sunday i still feel like i will be eternally damaged from having to endure all fifty-something hours until said departure. and this all makes me seem overly dramatic but i have method behind my madness. or in this case, reasons behind my...poignant attitude.

anyway this week (until thursday)could play out as follows:

wake up.
go scream at dogs for barking.
go back to sleep.
wake up.
push cat off of my pillow.
ensure that cat cannot get back into my room.
try to sleep again.
get up due to unsucessful nature of previous task.
tea.
breakfast.
take copious amounts of anti-biotics.
tea.
possibly change out of pajamas.
think about exercising.
go to computer instead because im sick and exercise wont help any of that.
download countless songs.
spring-clean my ipod to make it user friendly.
watch weeds.
tea.
lunch.
again, take further amounts of anti-biotics.
watch more series.
do somthing else or other until supper.
pop some more pills.
sleep.

repeat.

it's fascinatingly mindless to think about everthing one is doing all day when everything is, in fact, nothing.

and nothing makes one's week go faster than the prospect of going back to a certain place of tertiary education next week.

ah, god bless south africa's education system.

bedrooms.

somthing particular has suddenly presented itself as a thought in my mind:
the bedroom, although mysterious, is actually the very place from which you can derive the most information about a person but at the same time not present the things that lie behind the obvious.

take my gran's bedroom for example...

everything is neat. she places her pillows on her bed in the same place everyday on top of her perfectlt straightened out duvet. her blinds are left at the exact height everyday and are adjusted to the best suited angle to maximise the sun shine. she has carefully placed brass ornaments on top of her dresser of draws (dark mahogany of course) which fit ever so perfectly with her photo frames portraying the ones she holds most dear.

the way i see my gran's bedroom could so easily be the way i see my gran as a person. she is very neat. and at 84 (possibly 5) she still really really likes routine. she adjusts her blinds everyday the same way she religiously eats one orange, some paw-paw and oats every morning. but through her routine she never forgets the things that are close to her heart. one might think that hoarding silly things is petty but her ornaments are old and when you ask her about them she'll tell you how she aquired them and you'll realize just how special they are. her photo frames don't need words to explain them because standing poised, they do infact tell a story all by themselves.

of course- in her room there are a few things that could, in a way, sum my grandmother up...

her hearing aid - evidence of time passed and her old age
hair spray - god, she loves maintaining the perfect perm
glasses - something i've never known her not to have
a stash of biscuits - always there to get rid of a craving
a make-up kit - she can never go out without "putting her face on"
a painting of my mom - reminding me of the amazing artist that she is
her sewing stand - the countless things she has made and knitted
a crossword - like chocolate for children
a picture of my gran when she was younger - the youth that remains as the body grows weary. she was, and is, beautiful.

and finally...her bridge cards. and that hairy green bridge table that she gets out every monday.

i mean, if you look at all that. a bedroom can definately say a lot about a person. what does yours say about you?

Indifference.

A new blog. A new start.
It's really cold in my house. Almost like the kind of cold that makes me wonder if it's warmer outside- in the garden, dimly lit by a very faint moon.

I think it was spring high on saturday night. I went for a walk on Fish Hoek beach on sunday morning and the dunes had been washed away completely. Nothing of them was left...it was kind of beautiful devastation though. Underneath the washed up kelp and oceanic debris I could see the old railway tracks from so many years ago...a bit of rusted old metal semi submerged in the sand.

Today was a very indifferent day on my behalf. Divulging the details won't be of any use to anyone, of course. It did, however, allow me to come to a very easy conclusion about something: showing a lack of concern about something can often do one no good.

Obviously...i linger on the fact that presenting myself with feelings such as indifference will, in the end, leave me completely worse for wear.