ag, vernietig jouself, of so iets...

It’s the way…wondering wonderment whatever. Oooo, they’re gold like, that Johnny he’s so cute. Big night, nausea, nightmare. Saw Koos, ran away screaming – it wasn’t so much the sight of him than the memory of her…no word yet…at least we can look forward to the trip up there. Feel so safe, although another Ben Sherman cab woulda killed it xxx

redwineromancin'

Product code 800621002107-34-88-38. Respect is just a minimum, however irrelevant it might have been. Bradley told Stacey that everything they shared was a lie, and that she should put him out of his misery and get out. Reluctantly, Stacey put her wedding ring on the table and went. Alone, Bradley sobbed.
“Tanya hardens. Fine, she’ll stay - it’s Max who should leave. Max cries on the doorstep and tries one last time to convince Tanya of his love. She slams the door on him, and he walks out into the rainy night.”

well sometimes I go out by myself...

I’m all about you. You’re all about me. We’re all about each other. I had a dream that you met someone new. Still not quite sure how that makes me feel. He’s definitely Swedish, Dries van Noten brogues and spends his time ‘creating.’ Blah… Pump up the jam… It’s the house in Klampenborg, the Arne Jacobsen Ant that kills, we’ll sail down to Louisiana, it won’t be no John Burton Race money making scheme – me buying chairs, you acting obscene – you’ll walk past, I’ll grab your pinkie, we’ll reach the end of StrØget, I’ll turn to you and melt.

Lou Reed, I'll be ready by ten

Fourteen hour drives missed turn-offs seven minute stops double gin and tonics puffing on Harry rags feel the sun my dreams are back

introspection

“I was just sipping on something sweet.” Skimming the bottom shelf for the latest Wallpaper when something caught my eye. Before it registered, an unfamiliar sense of glee filled my mind and the moment I glanced to my right it crept into my heart. ‘The Boulevard’ taken 20 days before my 27th birthday. Drowning any hostility, sorrow and regret, I’m overcome by the purest pride, “silently reflection turns my world to stone” and I page through that lifeless book of love where a dream might help me cope. Well done!

steady rollin'

"When a swallow needs its rest, it takes the nearest tree. It's the outlined anchor on my heart that he never plans to see and once the crack's appeared, the lightning's struck and that letter comes back to me, I'll be off making my way across the sea."
[She bites her bottom lip for a second and gets stuck into the second verse.]

three second break beats

It’s ok, I’m used to it. Sure, you never mean to let me down, but you do. It’s all well and good to believe in happy endings, peace of mind and a general sense of achievement. But if a person can’t deliver and keeps screwing up, eventually you just kind of have to say ‘fuck you’, or words to that effect.

allright

"girls like you should be single in a world like this"

phase two: anger, or something along those lines

It all started with a knock knock joke. Close to three years later. Neon pink wonderbra, pale blue knickers. Black all round with an ‘I love joburg’ T mixed in for kicks. That guy with the brain-fluid abnormality cornered my brother last night and I can’t help wondering if all of this was really such a good idea.

"holds my hand and let's my hair down"

Chapter 1
A musing, if you like, or if you prefer: The beginning

It starts with a whistle.
An oblivious reiteration of your favourite childhood song mashed up with some Top 10 hit that played on the radio at about 9:15 this morning. Thoughts march through your mind in rhythmic succession, unnoticed, overlooked. The whistle drowns them out and as soon as your gut contorts from the gnawing anxiety brought on by unpaid bills, sagging tits or unrequited love, the interchanging tones of your senseless whistle dwindles all to a background drone.

While this massacre occurs in your innards the three-noted whistle distracts you from reality. For some it’s a hum, for others the bite of nail, a tug on a skirt hem or an annoying clearing of the throat. I personally indicate my attempt to evade reality with a yawn. An inadvertent yawn. As though the gesture of utter indifference will express my feelings on or attitude towards the pressing matter. No matter how pressing the matter may be.

I digress. Although I am not devoid of these constant concerns – on the contrary. This account is not of my life or my contorting innards. And however mundane this particular account may seem. Every word and angle of it has impacted greatly on the mind, actions and metrical pulse of a certain other girl’s bowels. An ordinary girl. Born into the monotony of suburban existence. Groomed to become all her parents never were. The perfect specimen. Flawless. An image of sheer brilliance. Intelligent. Responsible. Someone who wouldn’t dare appear in public with last season’s boots and who learnt to curl her superbly primed lashes with Revlon’s Extreme Exuberance Mascara at age seven. Someone to look up to, and, well, if we’re going to be completely honest here, someone to detest. I hardly hesitate to generalise at this point. We’ve all known this girl or known about her at least – depending on the enthusiasm with which one attended high school that is.

"hey la my boyfriend's back"

never one for business
seven, ten months down the line you’ve got it cracked
Now you look at me as if I was just another one of your deals

looks like keith richards threw up on it in the 70s

"she’s highly emotional that one"
"all the good ones are"

I'm not Sally

Five fourty on a Sunday morning. Still mourning. Slip into a pair of skinnies. It’s summer, raining, fresh out. I’m fresh out. Don’t really like mingling, never been a fan of small talk. Got home to find a rude note shoved under my door. Knew I shouldn’t have gone along with this plan. Here I am, over and done with, my sub-editor would probably wanna edit that. Trusty pair of skinnies off, black leggings go. T-shirt’s too short, a longer white vest underneath. Something about dirty dogs or slashdogs, I hinted a couple of times and ended up keeping it. Guess I could give it back, it’s just kinda hard right now. Brown calve-high boots, three years old, still do the trick. A pale pink fifties cardi, pearly buttons, finish it off with the red and white sailor scarf from Vincent’s charity store. Hair still done up, aching for change, ears Art Decoed, lips in ‘girl about town’. Ready now, wrap the Madagascan chocolate bar, grab the keys and down stairs to the car. Pick up the Mac three blocks down, head off to Saxonwold for a healthy dose of empathy. “I cheated myself…” It’s all so strange but I feel at home and he can see I’ve got something special by looking in my eyes. Unconvinced I’m just myself, laden with regret that’s six months too late. “Five story fire as you came…” Rail Road Red sunk, swung by Gin couldn’t be bothered bout arriving alone. Much of it’s changing. Reintroduced. Reclaimed.


6:01 on a Sunday morning, sun’s come up the door cracks twice. Is this the norm or am I just outa place? Depending on your point of view, I clearly am. Think again before hanging washing on your private balcony, it disturbs the incontinent.

oh she's hopeful

Dilaudid, Percodan, Placidyl, Dexedrine, Biphetamine, Tiunal, Desbutal, Escatrol, Amytal, Quaaludes, Carbrital, Seconal, Methadone, and Ritalin. None of these do any real good they’ll only block your small and large intestines. Either way, when the sun comes up, would I still see suspicion in your eyes?

you're nothing but a child

"She has one missing from the front of her mouth, and another one at the back which is less visible.

i ashed on my couch i could be more profound

Twenty-four seven twenty five today. This oh too familiar thing could go either way. A new Paul Smith store opened on Fourth Avenue today and a guy named Paul works there - he’s from Manchester. I could reference a pile of applicable jargon, but I haven’t watched ‘stenders in ages and pretty much lost touch with reality in general. He went to watch the game on PVR I came home to blog. The topic of conversation was enlightening when I listened. He has one sister, two brothers, I had a rabbit but none of that is really worth mentioning when you take into account what a Saturday evening is supposed to be. "Now he only eats guitars." Not every Blondie song is great, I’d still give anything to look like Debbie though. “One way or another…” She’s almost ready to give up, life goes on and what a thrill it is when you’re paying attention. Twenty five views and apparently her balcony is untidy even though she reorganised everything two weekends ago. I’m done reading people, I’m one too and fuck knows what I’m on about most of the time. If I could stay up for three days in a row without caving I’d probably go pick up a couple of red tops too. I’ve been to Berlin and often I have nothing to say. Come back to me, let’s just shove ourselves back together and get it over with. We never knew nothing of love, but you were the fork stuck to my spoon. Eventually defiance carried us through and I’m ready to be put back together. The pain in your soul is the same as the one down in mine. Come back. I've always been a sucker for a love song.

return to sender

“There’s not much to tell really,” she reveals stroking a three day-old cut on her left forearm.

a rush of blood to the cheek

'introduction' is hard to spell when you're drunk and i don't fancy meeting people then either.

The charm of a swallow tailed rock cod

Can you tell what I’m thinking? I’m trying on a new pair of pointy plastic pumps. They’re gold, the kinda gold that packs of thirty cigarettes used to have inside them. I wanted the futuristic silver ones instead but they were out of size fives.

It’s about a week and half later, I suspect it’s the wilting moth orchid that’s making me sneeze and it’s just about time that I get back to the question at hand.

“It’s the most arresting hue of pink. A terrifying luminous fish.”

easy now sad bastard

I admit to a momentary loss of beguiling powers.

oh blah di blah blah

Sit down, appreciate the irony.

"and you can be driving along a busy main road, listening to the most heart wrenching song, while your younger brother tells you that it was written for him and sitting down three months after your twenty seventh birthday sobbing coz you just kissed your ex boyfriend who never willingly earned that title and you think about the walks along Nyhavn the ciggs smoked by the blazing gust, the dirty talk in your local sushi bar and unexpectedly, although you always knew it would, your world flips upside down…"

no introduction needed

“I know it’s over”…
she knows it’s over… huge expectations…a fulfilment to an extent and it’s over…however hard she may try.

“oh mother I can feel, the soil falling over my head…” and into a empty bed she chooses to fall, accepting what has come of this…over…enough said.

“I know it’s over, still I cling, I don’t know what else it may bring, over… I know it’s over.

And it’s grey although a flame lights up and confusion reigns, song’s rhythm fades a certain love feigns and sorrow claims. Apparently that’s all it ever was.

Bare legs, empty head, wishing that the sea would take me, knowing that the knife would slit me...no reaction, shell refusing to cling…but I know it’s over, although in my heart it felt so real…

jeff

cheers james skelly

"morning calls, darkness draws
upon this day a shadow falls
silence walks through the halls

drop the anchor, lift my heart
from stem to stern i'm torn apart

silver moon silhouettes
in due time i will forget"

waiting for the heartaches

She stared in astonishment as her sweet banana split turned to a murky mass of bitter bile. It was soon after that the last piece exploded.

welcome

As I’m feeling exceptionally hospitable today I would like to welcome you to my blog. It took a while. Nonetheless, I’m here now and ready to enthral my visitors with mesmerising tales of life in suburbia and awe inspiring images of that which my busy hands create. So come on in, make yourselves comfortable and please remember to use a coaster.