The iPad invasion

And so it happens that the modern Apps have taken hold and I am forced to move from Blogger to Word Press for the manageable App on an iPad...
Catch me at Cape of Good Homo

I'll keep writing if you all keep reading, catch ya in wordpress

also, take a peak : http://walkthecape.wordpress.com/

...........

Wild Beasts - Bed Of Nails

5. Moderat - A New Error - 2009

Apparat - Song Of Los (Official Video)

Cape Town is Racist?

So, with my little disappearing act from the world of blogging, it became clear one day that I was just waiting for something to ignite me like a spark plug before I could return... and something did.  I thought maybe some fun times or summer romance would yank me out of the melancholy swaying, burying a lover was rocking me in, but in fact it was political.  Well, sort of...

It was a fine morning in my beautiful city when I came across a Twitter thread that proved how disappointing the older generation is in this country, yet again.  And between who, two woman I so highly respect.  Nothing like modern day social networking to drag those that went to high school in the last century back to a high school mentality today.

So with that I said I am not going to play the 'she said, she started' game.  The just of it all is that someone said Cape Town is Racist, Helen Zille came to defense which Simphiwe Dana climbed right on top of.  This infuriated me for four large reasons:

1 - To classify an entire city as racist is such a gross generalization of all the people that make up the city. And who makes up this city?  Who makes it run?  Its not a skin color thing, its a language thing.  This is an Afrikaans town.  The Colored people make this city run from its most basic points and what language do they speak... Afrikaans.  Xhosa has a small place but the other black languages are virtually non existent.  I mean more black people in Cape Town speak French than anywhere else in the country.  So maybe while Simphiwe was sipping cold water with fresh cut strawberries and crushed ice from her 5star hotel room overlooking the mountain and the waiter snubbed her for whatever reason, she would think twice about besmirching an entire city with her one liners.  So Cape Town is racist... how, why, what happened?
Add to that, Cape Town is a gay village.  To say it is behind times in the fight against racism is absurd.  How would a city move progressively forward in one regard and not the other when both are in essence about human rights, freedom and equality for all?

2 - I have been to a few Simphiwe Dana concerts and let me tell you that the passive animosity I get for being a "white" boy is unreal.  Not once did I complain, or write a silly little tweet saying "Simphiwe Dana is racist" merely because some people around me were not pleased with my attendance.  So why do I continue to go... because its a time I can enjoy pretty amazing jazz, so to hell with the people around me, I am going to enjoy the music because it is too amazing to let others get in my way.  I dont care about color, creed or sex when I have payed for my seat ticket like everyone else.  I am a minority of a minority of a minority in South Africa, but I am still South African.

3 - Cape Town is not questionably the best run city in South Africa, it IS the best run City in South Africa.  Hands down!  No contest!  I dont even feel like I need to prove this point.  You go live in the three major cities in SA and you tell me which one was the safest. Not the most fun, the biggest, the best opportunity... which was the safest...?

4 - Last but not least... why, oh why would a well respected woman like Helen Zille get involved in this game of child's play?  Why encourage it at all.  And yes she was defending but there was no need... if some Jozzie folk want to come here for a holiday and complain, let them, because soon they will be gone - thank God.  It is silly and one should never get involved in political silliness.

So in my conclusion I want to say that racism makes me want to vomit in my mouth and the way people complain about it makes me want to swallow that said vomit.  Grow up people, get over your color and realize that we have eleven official languages that provides enough of a barrier in getting closer to each other in a quest at forming a unified South Africa.

twitter |ˈtwitər|verb [ intrans. ](of a bird) give a call consisting of repeated light tremulous sounds.• talk in a light, high-pitched voice : old ladies in the congregation twittered.• talk rapidly and at length in an idle or trivial way : he twittered onabout buying a new workshop.

A Slice of Gay Pie: The End?

Published December 2011 issue:

By Juanne-Pierre de Abreu

So, it comes to an end.  It al began as a column trying to understand love and loss.  Trying to understand what it takes to ‘get over’ someone.  And most importantly, trying to get to the bottom of the idea behind this thing they call love.

I began writing this piece when a man I was so hopelessly in love with decided to break up with me.  We had by no means a stable relationship but we were in love with each other nonetheless.

We met at the end of 2009.  Started seeing each other early 2010 but since March 2011 we have been separating and trying again, breaking up and getting back together and we both adopted different tactics in order to help forget, or help move on.  Trying to make the other jealous, big displays of affection, public outbursts of disappointment were all used to get our loves attention.  The silly thing is we still had each other’s attention, affection and heart.

Was it all a pointless game?  Was I acting like a stubborn child?  Did I ask for more than I was giving?  Am I a bad boyfriend?  All of these questions ran through my brain as I tried to figure out a possible solution to our impossible situation.

So what have I learnt about love?  Is it real?  And do we deserve it?

I know three things for sure:

Firstly, We cannot help who we fall in love with and the idea of searching for love is really a pointless quest.  If we cannot control what our hearts want then in actual fact we do not know what we are looking for when we say we are looking for love.  Never try pin up an idea of love to the face of the man who actually loves you.  Never judge love that is knocking on your door because of your own preconceived notions.  And always be prepared for whatever love may turn out to be for you.

And with that, the idea of trying to ‘get over’ a man you are in love with is equally ridiculous if loving another being is so out of our control.  There are no 10 steps to forgetting the love of your life.  There is no quick fix remedy to encourage the process of closure.

Secondly, nothing lasts forever.  Things in life always come to an end, eventually.  Most things have an expiration date on them but that is not to say we should try look for the end date.  We should not focus on how long we have with a person but cherish having a person.  Enjoy it while it lasts and while it is still fresh.  Never take love that is given to you for granted.  Never believe it will always be there to hold your hand or wipe a tear.  So, if that love is but a moment in your life you need to take it and swirl it around until it turns into an amazing experience in a moment of your life.

Third, love unconditionally.  It is the hardest thing to understand and even harder to practice but if you are truly in love with someone, love all of them and not just the pieces.  We all have good and bad.  Made up of light and dark.  And somehow we all try get some sort of balance in life as we play our demons versus our angels.  So if you want him to love you completely be prepared to do the same.

Fire runs through my body with the pain of loving of you,

Pain runs through my body with the fires of my love for you

Pain like a boil about to burst with my love for you

Consumed by fire with my love for you

I remember what you said to me.

I am thinking of your love for me

I am torn for your love for me

Pain and more pain

Where are you going with my love?

I am told you will leave me here

I am told you will go from here.

My body is numb with grief

Remember what I said my love

Godbye my love goodbye.

So this is A Slice of Gay Pie signing out.

In Loving Memory of Mijo Skoro 7/11/1970 – 1/11/2011 

Florence and The Machine - Remain Nameless Lyrics on Screen (Ceremonial...

A Slice of Gay Pie: To Screw the Shrew out of You

Published in November 2011 issue.

It all came about in the most unlikely place, a Mac Donald’s fast food take out joint.  After a few glances over at each other, it was time for one of us to make the bold decision and say hello.  But was it a bunch of mix messages? 

Eventually one just needs to grab ones balls and say to the cute guy sitting across the restaurant, “Hello, my name is yada yada”. 

So I did.  My nerves were getting the better of me because, to be fair, I have not picked a man up in a “straight” area in such a long time.  I felt like a virgin again.  One awkward line lead to another before I found out that the chunky red head is not familiar to the area.  Being in Jozzie as a visitor, I decided to play the out of Towner role too.  Mainly because I did not know if I could trust him enough to just to go back to his place. 

In my luck he was actually searching for a cruising bar but gave up and opted for getting something to eat.  So I hollered at the opportunity, I mean after all the man is looking to hook up.  “You want to go somewhere private?” I asked. 

Fifteen minutes later we were somewhere more secluded. 

Twenty minutes later, it was denim pants on the floor.  That’s just the type of guy I am, going gaily forward for what I want.

Once my little feet landed back in the Mother City - my new home - leaving the flings behind in Jozzie town I wondered, in a city like Cape Town, how do you start the whole dating game over again?  Straight people seem to have a formula worked out that allows for a “market” to take place, where you look at what you want and order it.  The gay world, however, is far more perplexed than merely meeting a man and organizing to meet up again for a date. We are more like a market where you can have a taste before you order.  In fact you can have a few tastes before you decide to invest in what’s on the menu.

With the known cruising spots and easy hook up clubs, the idea of actually trying to talk to someone before we whip it out seems rather bleak. 

So all in the name of research, I stepped outside onto the streets of Cape Town with a head full of ideas on how to make dating a reality or at least try make it into something a little more fun than a mass pile up orgasm after orgasm.

A few uneventful evenings past by before I decided to hit the obvious dating sites.  Eventually I started chatting to a man that seemed somewhat promising.  The whole setting up a meeting time and place was kinda getting me a little hard.  Eventually a date was set.  A late lunch at a fairly quiet coffee shop, followed by a few light cocktails.  It seemed I might have hit the Gaydar jackpot; unfortunately my excitement was expressed far too soon. 

Once we got back to his place, his boyfriend was there to greet us.  Now, I am not a prude and do not shy away from experiences but in this particular situation I was blind-sided.  I was not aware that there was a boyfriend in the picture.  So I made the frame a little larger, and went with the opportunity presented in front of me.  The affair was just like a boiling kettle.  It slowly starts to boil until it reaches point and then it stops suddenly.  So once the sexual anxiety dissipated - for me - it was time to stop.

Almost ready to give up on the routes I have been taking to actually meet guys, I received a message from a man I had a brief interaction with a while back and then he found me on Facebook where we kept in contact.  Now he wants to meet up again, finding himself in the same city as me for the first time in a long time. 

Dressed in my cutest relaxed-first-date outfit, I grabbed a cab to the restaurant and waited patiently for him to arrive.  The night turned out to be a classic first date.  Sipping on the Vodka Martini’s and chatting about all things relevant, it was easy to write this date as one of the best dates ever.  And then something odd happened.  We did not go to bed together.  Now it all seemed very seductive, riding on the back of his scooter in the middle of the night and I thought it was a goodie, for both of us.  But a few mild messages back and forth, it all just disappeared. 

Maybe the point is not to jump the gun.  Maybe one should be patient.  Or maybe, just stop looking; have as much fun as you can and eventually that guy will come around that just makes you laugh.

Five Sex Terms You May Not Know...

You may have heard the term on a television show, a movie, a song or even a rowdy dinner party.  However, maybe you were like me and actually had to do the research to find out what the terms actually meant...
So here are a few of the words that have passed my ears that I went out to find out exactly what they were...


Reach Around - You and your lover stand up while fucking.  The one behind reaches around and grabs the others tool and proceeds to stroke it back and forth while moving the waist back and forth.

Snow Blow - So you are going down on your lover.  Once he ejaculates in your mouth, you come up to kiss him and the ever seductive sloshing of two tongues is mixed with slimy semen.   

Golden Bath - Not a shower but a bath.  This is when a partner pisses into the colon of a lover.  A sort of 'piss-enema'. 

Dirty Sanchez - basically, its leaving a mustache of crap around the lips.  The way, after screwing a lover in the ass, the penis is immediately put into the receivers mouth, sans a wipe down, and the back and forth sucking will leave a smear of shit across the - usually - top lip.




Cleveland Steamer - one person craps on another person's chest and (very important) then sits down and rocks back and forth like a steam roller.






I don't know if I was enlightened or grossed out...?  Probably both!

To Festival or not to Festival?

How many gay guys actually enjoy weekend festivals?  How many of us relish the opportunity to really go wild and let all our hair down, to break it out on an uneven, rough and rugged dance floor, kicking up dust and getting a little dirty?  This past weekend, I found myself jamming it out in a valley amongst vineyards and peach tree plantations at a trance festival called The Village out in Franschoek.

Standing in a sea of people dancing with a lover, we were approached by oodles of women that just wanted to hug and kiss us and try get involved.  One girl, and she really was a girl, even tried to proposition a threesome with us...?  At that point I thought that maybe we were the only gays in the Village.  But how can this be?  It's Franschoek.  This little town is run by homosexuals.  Every little twirling-creeper covered cottage, villa filled section of land and guesthouse surrounded with epic mountains is probably got a little gay stuffed in there.  Ok, so then maybe it was festival specific...?

As the night went on it became clearer that the gays there are part of a different league of homo's.  The new wave of young guys, slightly emo, slightly alternative and slightly hippie, very care free and totally under the radar, is all rather attractive.  But they are also not waiting to be picked up... they do all the work.  Something tells me that I am going to really like this new wave of men.  This "new" wave rehash of the 60's movement of free love is very prevalent at something like this.  And the men really are taking it to a new level with all the old school hippie ideals right there behind them.

So now we are left wondering, do we ditch the neat clothes and shiny shoes and adopt the care free flimsy clothing that flutters so effortlessly amongst all the luminescent lights and decorations?  Do we ditch the bar seats for a grassy patch of earth?  

And are we trading a trick in a bed for two tricks in a tent?  

I don't know if it is the tired scene of clubbing - the usual music, the same miserable faces and the same barmen.  Or if I am just in the mood to try something new... But I want to do it again!  Taking a weekend to party in the sun during the day and party under the stars at night seems to be scratching that itchy spot of... "I really need to party, yo"

But doing it with some really awesome people makes it even more of a goodie.

The ABC OF a P.A.R.T.Y Weekend!

Partying like a rock star is no new thing to me and being a bit of a wild child I have learnt the ways in which to party to the max and get the most out of the time spent busting and shaking so that one can take a break from partying for a good long while once the weekend is over.  With a beefcake of a friend coming for the weekend I new I had to pull a pink bunny out of the floral hat.  With his arrival, we immediately hit the beach to get into the groove of things to come.  Taking in the view of the awesome apostles really sets the tone for the fact that "I am in Cape Town".   Tetrahydrocannabinol , also known as delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol , or dronabinol, is the main psychoactive substance found in the cannabis plant.  In short it makes you feel good and allows sights such as the mountain envelope you from within.  Allowing the muscles to relax, picking up your heart rate and at making the skin sensitive to heat or cold, is all so very prevalent.  But the most important property is the psychedelic aspect that makes something as amazing as the mountain sort of enter you in a spiritual way.

Moving over to Clifton 3rd, we soaked up the sun's rays.  The body produces Vitamin D from sunlight and a lack of Vitamin D can leave one feeling rather depressed.  And although there is no real recommendation on how much sunlight to get on ones skin, due in large part to cancer, sun is still pretty damn important.  So slap on the SPF 50 and run around outside.  Naturally, before taking part in a festival, I like to get some sun on my skin so that when i am dancing around, completely unaware, all day in the sun I do not burn.  So get some sun before you hit a festival.  Do not think you can get a tan there, all you will get is sunstroke.  And don't forget to drink as much H2O as possible. 

Arriving at Rocking the Daisies, we get settled and move over to the dam for a cocktail before the Arrows are set to start the day off.  A sweet, rum-based cocktail made with rum, cream of coconut, and pineapple juice, usually served either blended or shaken with ice. It may be garnished with a pineapple wedge or a maraschino cherry or both. The piña colada has been the official beverage of Puerto Rico since 1978... and mine since 2008.

Two girls walk into a rehearsal room armed with nothing but a drum, a keyboard and a handbag full of devastatingly honest melodies… Enter the beat-riddled brilliance of The Arrows!  Filled with rum, I allowed the Arrows to enter me...

Later on was a democratically-elected kings of cool, Gazelle. I grooved to disco and electro synth-pop and, of course, an elaborate show fitting to the audience of a third-world dictator.

Ending my night of bands with Jack Parow.  The fresh prince of Bellville and surrounds.  With a cap that’s longer than yours and razor-sharp lyrics about all things zef.

By that time it was time set it off with a little rush of the dance variety.  

And a man by the name of Regan had me busting such a jam that I almost came in my pants right there on the dance floor.  The lyrics, the beat, the bass... it all wrapped around my spine, up towards my brain and with every pulsation, it pulsated through my nerves to the ends of every part of my body.  I almost came in my pants right there on the dance floor!  So I guess that man has a new groupie and he can be guaranteed to have me following him around wherever he goes.

 The following day is spent around the dam until the sun becomes too hot.  Admittedly I am that guy that falls asleep just about anywhere, however, this time when I woke up I was surrounded by other people that also decided that it was nap time before hitting a dance tent to pick it all up by nightfall.

And by night it all begins again... to the max... alc, THC, VIT D, LARK, Electro, Molly, fungi and a whole lot of H2O.  Eventually I found myself alone on one of the dance floors breaking down as if it were the first time I had ever danced.  You will be surprised at how often you get hit on when you are alone and jamming as if you just don't give a damn.  Add to that, by very forceful women.  As cocky as I may be, when i dance I generally do it alone.  Dancing is like masturbating, one can achieve maximum pleasure when one is primarily focused on oneself:-D

Back to the women... the women would just immediately grab my belt and pull me closer.  The men would slowly creep I closer, trying to get their legs in between mine.  On both levels I am totally thrown off, mainly because I was waiting for a certain gentleman to magically pop up and dance with me, but that fairtytale did not come true.  So one can get laid at a festival and more than once, I guess I am just waiting for butterflies again, I mean the whole sleeping around a campsite... it's so 2006.

My feet are dead, calves are wrecked and I can barely sit down let alone stand.  Where is my B.E.D?

Florence + The Machine - Shake It Out

I am Erin Brokovich...?

Reading butterflies--hurricanes.blogspot  this morning, I came across a line that stuck out: "In contrast to straight people, gays often want their own appearance to match what they like to see in a lover."  And this got me thinking, do we put ourselves together for ourselves or do we put certain things in place in order to attract what we actually want?


Now if it were a set in stone rule then I would maybe have to rethink some of the things I wear.  I mean, I can dress like a bit of a skater skank at times but I am actually not interested in dating a skater skank, just think that white trash look is kinda sexy.  But in all fairness I am interested more in the gentlemen.  Looking back, two thirds of the men I have been in love with were all... well... nerds.  The rest I guess were skanks - sexy but skanky nonetheless.  Looking at the man above here, does the impression change from business look to ready-for-sex look in terms of how you perceive him?



In light of the actual blogs topic though, he was talking about tattoos, I thought about whether my inked body is a result of what I want a lover to be?  Or is it all me?  Personally it seems more of two ideas holding hands because I would not put something on my body I did not actually like purely to grab attention that I have a tattoo (ergo why I do not have a tribal tattoo or stars).  Nor would I put some of the things I dig on my body because it might detour men with its unsightliness or pure bad taste.  It needs to complement each other.  Attract what you want to attract and still please you for years to come.  


So what would my tattoo say about a lover I want:  He must be strong but know how to decorate a cake.  He must always be willing and able to grow.  He must be bright and bring colour to my life.  And he needs to know a good thing when it is in front of him... touching his toes:-D






Does it make a difference?  Between these two pics of Mr Beckham?  Does it change your opinion?

So in light of the title of this post I will you leave you with a quote from the film : "It just so happens that I think I look nice and as long as I have one ass instead of two, I will wear whatever I Goddamn like... If that's ok with you"

Love Movies or Movies for Lovers?

So, who exactly are love stories made for?  For the hopeless romantic sitting at home with a bowl of popcorn dreaming of something magical?  For two lovers to cling to each other when the romance in the film starts to over boil like rice that has been left too long?

The answer is C... all of the above.

In full-on film going mode, I drenched my viewing pleasure in some of the best love stories that I have not yet had the pleasure of watching.  And it was a lovely mix of Romantic comedy, an epic romance and the inevitable true life - love and loss - romance.  Is it a question of pertaining certain aspects to our own experiences or is it about dreaming of that love to come... and if so, would you choose one of the above genres to try fall into or would you try amalgamate all into one piece, to form your idea of love or the love you are living at the moment?  Do we have to relate in order to be engaged?

It has always been a popular understanding that forming characters with problems we can relate to transcends a movie on screen from that of just a movie, to art that touches your soul.  So this would be the ultimate achievement as a writer, to create someone that is completely relatable.  But when it comes to a love story, I very seldom find myself relating to either of the people caught up in the messy business of love and tend to rely more on their sub-plot as individuals to find something to relate to.

For example, in "No Strings Attached", we have two young adults who are out to simply satisfy the need for companionship without the complications of a commitment.  So who would be more relatable?   On one side, we have a young woman that is afraid of getting hurt.  A woman so guarded that she is unable to let the greatness that comes from a relationship to come into her life.  And on the other side we have a man with a broken heart, because of his father, that is lifted up in the air by the charismatic way about this woman.  I tend to lean towards the guarded woman.
The movie was a pleasure to watch albeit with a very predictable ending - which was actually great to watch, due in large part to the brilliance that is Natalie Portman's craft.

To off set the happy ending I put in "Blue Valentine" next.  It's one of those great, hard-hitting, love stories.  Wrapped up with a brilliant soundtrack and some magical cinematic moments.  It's a love story like no other.  their relationship is so layered and we slowly watch the dissipation of their love as the movie jumps between past and present.  Here we have a kind-hearted, carefree and lazy man that has fallen in love with a woman that has more baggage than he was initially expecting.  She in turn is a hard working, rigid and responsible woman.  Her love for him intensifies from that initial "honeymoon" phase to something rather serious in a short amount of time and her dependability on him is palpable.  By the end I could totally relate to him.  Nothing harder than leaving the one you love alone because they asked you to.

And to pick myself up, "Water for Elephants" was the last one on the menu.  It is truly a delight to watch in that old school kind of epic-love-story-that-stands-the-test-of-time way.  A man with a gift for animals meets a girl with a gift for animals and the only thing standing in their way is her husband.  But he is not just your normal jealous husband... he is wicked down to his black heart that is filled with greed.  She gives him a reason to strive for something and he gives her the possibility of a new life and freedom.

In love, not in love.  Relatable or not... who gives a shit.  Watch these three movies, they are all real goodies yo'.  And should leave you feeling something by the end of them.

Enjoy!

Just Sink Wash Your Junk!

"Imagine you went down on someone and their joint tastes like cheese and chives chips..." a friend said that to me one evening.

After some wine to fuel the mood, him and i got the giggles where we said some of the dumbest things to each other.  But along with the dumb comes the fun and the idea of taking second helpings or double dipping to another really fascinated us.

How would we respond?  How would you respond?  Say it was even a quick little hook up and the hottie standing in front of you just whips it out, as if he is presenting you with a prize, and once you pop it in your mouth all you can taste is the meal, that the person sucking before, was eating.  Gross... right?  Or completely hilarious?  At what point do you say "No, I will not suck that..." or rather should I say for who would we say no to.

How arrogant must a man be that he would not even sink wash his junk before the next man in line?  So do we perceive that arrogance as hot or not?

So prevent any chance of a second meal, here is a plan for you guys who love the odd blow job - run some water and stick your dick under it.  Give it a few jiggles then finally you have made an effort to keep it clean.  Etiquette for random and anonymous cock-sucking... who would have though? LOL

What is Home?

A Slice of Gay Pie: What is Home?

By: Juanne-Pierre de Abreu

Published October 2011

In Cape Town, the city with oodles of possibilities, however lacking any real sense of urgency, I find myself wondering if it has become my home yet?  And not to say that I am wondering if I am a Cape Tonian yet or not, but how comfortable am I really in a city filled with strangers?  It is the saying we have all heard before “Home is where the heart is”.  So when do we know we are home?  When do we know for sure that which our heart deems home sweet home is in actual fact home sweet home? 

Packing a bag and heading back to Johannesburg for work, I decided it was time to put myself to the test and see whether I ran away from Johannesburg or if I ran towards Cape Town.  Where does my heart lie?

I land in OR Tambo and the land is dusty and brown.  The crisp air reminds me of early hours waking up for school time.  A memory I care not to remember because lets face it, coming out is really when I felt my life began and I only did so in my Matric year.  So with miserable memories flushing back into the foreground of my mind I am already very unimpressed to be back… ‘home’. 

So would it be fair of me to totally throw all that Johannesburg is made up of, down the sink merely because it is bitterly cold, unattractive and dry?  Of course not, because what makes Jozzie town an amazing city are the people, the many different faces and smiles that have all seemed to find themselves crammed into this, albeit very large, landmass.  Working hard and socializing even harder.  It’s the city of cool people.  So why have I left?  Why have I abandoned all these very amazing South African people for another city.

The sea is a biggie, the mountain too, the foreign men are a bonus but it all boils down to the fact that I can walk the streets… and no I do not mean work the streets.  In Cape Town, it is possible to walk the streets of the city at night.  Yes, one should always be vigilant but the walking of the streets has more to do with the fact that it is pedestrian friendly than because it is not as riddled with crime as the City of gold.  If one has to walk around in Jozzie you mainly just walk past high wall after high wall, security complex after security complex.  This is hardly pleasing to any of the senses when one wants to take a stroll just around their block.

Hardly half way through my project and I am missing Cape Town, missing the moisture in the air that the cool sea breeze brings in and missing the sidewalk shops that I pass on my way to the grocery shop - sans the mall.  However, Jozzie is my little sin city now.  The men are so delicious with their inviting attitude and friendly demur.  One cannot help but to dive off the top high board towards the deep, swirling pool of men… all waiting to swim with you.  

With all the back stabbing that goes on in the Mother City it was good to be back amongst men who understand what it means to be a community.  It took me a while to drop the whole “Don’t touch me” attitude I adopted from that little Mountainous Seaside Village but eventually I swam.  I dived down so deep I almost did not come up for air.  Almost.

But Like any good Sin City, there is always a time when we have to leave.  And I will say it again: There comes a time we HAVE to leave.  This time of year shows us exactly how amazing change can be.  Spring is in full force up here on the Highveld.  The first thunderstorm has raged over our heads, flashing its bright lights and cracking some pretty fierce thunder.  And the flowers are in full bloom, which fills the morning and evening air with some of the sweetest smells.  Now I prepare to get my overworked ass back home.  Leaving Jozzie town to return to my lazy little Village by the sea and next to the mountain.  It has become my home even though it seems I am going home to nobody… but like spring from winter, we learn that something will come from nothing and with the best treatment it can blossom.

The Releasing Demon: Fairtytales... Child's Play?

Have you ever reached a point where you knew exactly what you want but did not know how to get it? When the perfect life is but only an arm reach away and the only thing holding you back is you? What else is there to do but keep fighting, keep trying, keep reaching for it?

But what happens when you have a split second thought that maybe it's actually now what you want? Should one sit back and asses exactly the direction one's own particular choices might take one? Is it really a case of opening my mouth and saying?

So, although I am filled with more hope than I have felt in ages - and hope is a goodie, it always has the possibility of achievement - I am still left in two minds over whether or not I am leaning towards a more realistic/pessimistic perspective of looking at love or am I growing up?

It seems all too evident that nothing in this world lasts forever. Sure. But does that mean I should foresee an end before the crossing line is even in plain view? Of course not. It is most definitely a point of taking in what you can while it is up for grabs. And although this may seem like such a harsh way of interpreting love, the evidence stacked against love, that love is in fact bitter and sweet, is far more prevalent thus believable than a cheesy 'nineties' Gloria Estefan hit of Everlasting Love.

The point is not the disillusion of love but how to turn that love into something that can survive. Like a plant, through harsh winters and bitter breezes, once spring rolls on in it begins to grow again, bigger, faster and with more vigor. So should a relationship not be nurtured by those in it? I mean the plant in question is that of two hearts that slowly begin to beat together and not necessarily amalgamate with each other.

As a wise man once said: "I am not young enough to know everything" and the older I get the more I understand the point. It's the disillusionment of the notions we have as young people that in turn makes us real living adults. But when do we start becoming tainted from the abysmal failures in our quest for love that it in fact leaves any idea of a relationship to come drenched in disdain and ill content? When we allow it too!

So the objective is to always, but i mean always, scrutinize what we may have done wrong and better that. I keep my mouth shut far too often for fear of abandonment however the ironic thing is that I am abandoned for the fact that I keep my mouth shut. A vicious cat and mouse game i am playing all on my own.

So stop the fairytale of the perfect relationship and try create a real one... everlasting or not!

The Releasing Demon: Fairtytales... childs play?

Just lov ethis pic so much that I thought I would share it with you all...

Good Fridays Yo"

The Ditching Demon - Stop running Fool

So, those who know will undoubtedly be familiar with my disappearing acts.  From the immediate ones - leaving a club without a word that i am leaving.  To the large - skipping town, the province and sometimes the country.

The odd thing is just before I am about to ditch whatever I feel needs to be ditched, I think about what exactly the problem is and in my final assessment it is largely viewed as uncomfortable or unsafe therefore to leave would be the most logical thought... Correct?

Should our feeling of safety ever really be compromised for another's comfort?  Can forgoing dependability on ourselves really make any situation better?  In my experience I have learnt that as soon as I feel even slightly uneasy, in any given situation, I will run.  In theory this may seem very practical but in context of the world and the people in it, it actually removes one from the rest of the world.

In other words, in the wild if an antelope senses danger he will run because more often than not the antelope is correct in thinking that there is a crouching lion getting ready to devour.  But with people the scenario is very different due in large part to emotions and the depth we as humans can go into our emotions therefore the complexities behind our "safety" is far more perplexed than that of the antelopes.  People are far less likely to jump on our back and rip open our necks with their teeth.


I am tired of running away, so two things happened - one directly and the other indirectly - that would assist in Ditching the Ditching Demon.
One - I remained working on a project I was not thrilled at all to be part of.
Two - My family packed up house and left Johannesburg before my contract had even come near to the end.  So in essence I was left behind this time.

So what is the moral of the story here?  It is far easier to run away from our problems than it is to face them and see it through till the end.  The funny thing is when we run our problems undoubtedly chase so the time spent running is ten times longer than what the time would be if we just turned and faced them.

"It's the sparkle you become...
    When you conquer anxiety" - Bjork