Saturday, September 26, 2009

my room now

items of interest scattered in her personal space, in this case her very hip loft apartment somewhere in cape town. globe trotter suitcase bought at a thrift shop. she grows her own aloe for her face, rosemary for her lamb stews and vark-oor medicinally. roland fantom X 6, paul bothners and her bitch. notable inheritances include an antique picture frame (grandfather beckmann), african drum and a nokia phone from her mother when she got an upgrade. dressing table is littered with paraphanelia, such as a baby harmonica, a home emboridered petticoat lamp, virgin mary and a marching drum. batwing brollie and retro cupboard a lucky find.
silver guns hang like coats on a coat hanger. my favourite probably the opera glasses (if you have interesting neighbours) and the john lennon sunglasses.
I entered a competition on luca vincenzo's blog to win VIP tickets to Cape Rocks II, as I feel the R75 cover charge is a bit much for my pocket right now. I'm thinking that I didn't actually win anyway, because it's already Saturday...

Friday, September 25, 2009

salvation army/ lifeline / thrift and gift / church bazaar

Item 1:
Checked slip dress in pink tartan, R10 at church bazaar.

Item 2:
Faux leather twist belt, R20

Item 3:
Messenger hand purse on chain, navy. R65

Item 4:
Pencil skirt, R20

Item 5:
Blouse with green buttons, R20

this is how the cape rocks

Peace Fest '09

annoying hipster douchebag

what, like, what bands do you like to go see?
none of them. they all suck.

do you mind if i ask your mustache some questions?

do you guys like charles barkley?
gnarls barkley or charles barkley?

do you guys like scotty pippin?
what happened to him?
no no the band scotty pippin.

what music are you listening to now?
synth-pop, local stuff from providence.
you wouldntna heard of any of that though?
oh i thought you meant the band! cause my friend's band is called local stuff from providence.

i don't really care about other people.
i don't care about other people either. do you care about other people?

rheingold is bad beer and this band is bad.

don't you hate it when a band you like gets successful?

i'm gonna throw some obscure bands at you and we'll see if you've heard of em
the shit blossoms, manginika, the fucking idiots, executive fingerblasts, chipmunk skullcrush.
ever heard of the band i got beat at my cousin's bar mitzvah by my cousin whose bar mitzvah it was?

whatchadoo to get such an awesome quirky japanese girlfriend?

chewing the fat with hipsters

drafty here, showdown now. cobwebs instead of neurons. braindead, but cannot sleep.

10 to 9 house party saturday afternoon. an afternoon party? venue still secret. loerie awards weekend 2009 this weekend. 4 3 2 1, ready to ignite.

in the streets and lofts of cape town where your name won't be known but your face will. paint eyes on your cheeks and people will look at you twice. smoke in chains. contribute to publications. you're nothing until they get your name.

ladiesd and gentleman your eyes on the road and enjoy the ride.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

this city's heat (without supervision)

i have come to question this frivolent morality, where kisses are not contractable but HIV is and drunkeness is a permanent state of mind. black label sells for a pennypiece and you swig it until you're swagging.

ah but the tempations of london town, where the girls are as loose as your skinnies are tight.
Gay pride is a national day, ecstasy is easier and party pills are your guarantees. Freedom of speech flows like milk and honey. You suddenly find yourself without a curfew, without supervision. lsd induced fevers take you by the wrists. a kiss is free game which leads to a one-night engagement that terminates at sunrise. we'll have make out sessions on the dancefloor, where no one remembers your name or even cares. sex becomes before love and courtship, didn'tchaknow? the order is askew especially when your visa is unexpiring.

would you take the coke with the others as easily as if you lived without? i dont think.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009


been making my own clothes because i can't afford to buy any.

am rather naked.

sewed two pieces of cotton together to makeshift skirt.

been reading cold mountain and finding it a little hard boiled. hoping it will get better, as i am only on page 11.

if only i could rip up all the papers in the word and never have to sign a thing. red tape is suffocating this world, but what else can you expect but trickery in a world of human error.

driver's licence is no-go.
novel on hold.
overseas in 81.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

ophelia, she ain't breathing!

i am drowned.

could you

it was a year ago today.
yet if only, though not.
i won't say i miss him.

because when i saw the rain all i could think of was walking in it with you.
forgive me if i'm a disaster
i'm a lack of confidence
can't do much for the sake of love
but for you i will.

i'd like to come clean and say there were times i wanted to go back
but since you
since you've been around i've thought it over
i think i could go with you.

would you take my hand when the rain starts
and gaze up at cloud-beckoned heavens
let it wash over your grief-stricken face
and lock our bodies.

then, would you dampen my dreams?

when i gazed over the bay and saw the clockwise beacon of kommetijie lighthouse illuminating the water i felt renewed hope.

would you care to kiss me?

Monday, September 7, 2009

somebody told me he loved me

taylor swift has a delicate song called fifteen

and then you're on your very first date and he's got a car and you feel like flying.

such is the first heartbreak. such are your teenage years, when the lights are on and without warning they're snuffed out.

back then i swore i was gonna marry him someday but i realized some bigger dreams of mine.
abigail gave everything she had to a boy who changed his mind.

i thank God i did not give him all of me. i pray now for the grace to forgive him for all that has happened, to grant me serenity to accept what is and to hold my head high with all the dignity i can muster. i pray for courage. how can i do this god, when every minute reminds me of the last and there's always somebody who reminds me and my hear breaks all over again and twice over. i've been angry and bitter. if only i could turn my fury and betrayal into poetry, or if i could juts sing about it.
girl don't give the boy more than a sweet kiss. the sweetest, yes, but no more. date the boy on the football team, but have the wisdom to know when to walk away. i don't want to be the last pleasure. i will not be his once-off, his fleeting use and discardment. i will not give all i have because he's a boy who spoke nice words. and i'm just a girl, fifteen at heart but not naive enough to believe so easily. i have learnt my lesson, but thank you, it did not leave me completely bare. i am still precious and dear, waiting for the one i love and trust enough to deserve it.

when you're fifteen and someone tells you he loves you you're gonna believe him.

the bittersweetity made my heart cry.
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