… and isn’t it ironic?

An old man turned ninety-eight. He won the lottery and died the next day. It’s a black fly in your Chardonnay. It’s a death row pardon two minutes too late. And isn’t it ironic… don’t you think

There’s a line in a song that has being playing over and over in the back of my mind for a while now and it wasn’t until a few weeks ago that the poetry struck me with the irony of life in general. It’s taken me 14yrs for the words to resonate, and boy have they? A metronome to the months that have ticked by, a friend with benefits has been creeping deeper and deeper under my skin and become just a best friend. In an ordinary world this would be the first sign that I was heading towards some sort of an exit, but instead of being shown the door I’ve been shown into the inner sanctum that is his friendship and trust.

 

Mr. Play It Safe was afraid to fly. He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids goodbye. He waited his whole damn life to take that flight. And as the plane crashed down he thought “Well isn’t this nice…” And isn’t it ironic… don’t you think

And all this while, these past few weeks have also shown me the irony of false friendships as I have had to struggle through the growing pains of my company, and my integrity as they both emerged from chrysalis. In doing so the hardships have also revealed the silken webs we weave as we go along. Certainly separation of wants and needs have made me stop and think that what we want certainly does have a way of finding us when we least expect it and need it most. It takes just a cup of coffee at a bar with a beautiful stranger between media training, the sharing of a passion and mutual respect for the craft of others – all steps that take time to reveal the hidden mysteries of life.

 

A traffic jam when you’re already late. A no-smoking sign on your cigarette break. It’s like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife. It’s meeting the man of my dreams and then meeting his beautiful wife. And isn’t it ironic…don’t you think. A little too ironic…and, yeah, I really do think…
Like the truth shared between two strangers as they sit in the late afternoon sun and debate a future that can never be shared or imagined except in unspoken words and half lived dreams. And even if that one moment of fantasy were met – I’m not sure if I could live with the pressure that would come when a world was surrendered for your love – of being the man that everything was sacrificed for. I realised this when I almost threw away what we had for someone I never truly wanted in the first place.

 

It’s like rain on your wedding day. It’s a free ride when you’ve already paid. It’s the good advice that you just didn’t take. Who would’ve thought… it figures. Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you. When you think everything’s okay and everything’s going right. And life has a funny way of helping you out when. You think everything’s gone wrong and everything blows up in your face.

 

As I sat starting at the stars this past weekend, it struck me that in life it’s a pretty common belief that women tend to use the left or more emotional side of their brain and men the right more logical side. But is it really that cut and dry? It seems that when it comes to affairs of the heart there’s a battle between what we know and what we feel. So what do you do when you find yourself in a situation that leaps back and forth between the left and right side? I couldn’t help but wonder: when it comes to relationships, is it smarter to follow your heart or your head?

 

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you. Life has a funny, funny way of helping you out. Helping you out

… I want to talk about me?

Admitting that I have crap cell phone reception where I live that makes having a conversation pretty difficult is easy. What isn’t so easy is admitting that after ending the call, as I sat in the drizzling rain a little longer I was more scared than ever by what we had spoken about. Or perhaps didn’t speak about. Do we want the same thing but are both just too scared to admit it or is it in admitting it that makes it so much scarier?

Not dwelling on the question, or possible answer for no other reason that it could never be resolved without us sitting down face to face and working through it, I moved back inside to a quite evening with a great new book, a bottle of my favourite wine and a box of Turkish delight given as a thank you present. Monday morning would see my eating plan resume but from now until then, it was comfort food all the way.

Still drizzling the next morning, and with novel in hand I sat waiting for friends to arrive for brunch. If Jo’burgs signature colour is gold, then its signature sound is the ambulance siren. It seems like all day, every day people are getting hurt and the whole city has to hear about it. But what about the injuries that don’t get a siren? Whether you’re falling into a pot-hole in the street, or possibly falling back in love … just how dangerous is an open heart?

… your song?

 

They say that there are moments in your life that change you forever and that you will never be the same. Before, love had tried to welcome me but my soul always drew back, guilty of lust and sin. And while I’ve never been a believer of the idea, I attended a wedding of a close friend this past weekend that has forever changed the way I now look for, and regard love.

Confessions aside, I had arrived a few hours earlier with completely different intentions. Some were pure, some were licentious but they all involved one individual who had sparked a mild crush the weekend before as we dirt trailed our way through the mud, skid panned around an obstacle course and relived a William Tell moment to be proud of. My heart, having always been a lonely hunter thought it had found a kindred spirit that it could befriend.

Slowly, the courtyard where we congregated in started filling up with the faces and smiles of friends all coming to celebrate this couple who is a yardstick to us all. But never really connecting with weddings for the most obvious reasons, it has always been something that needed to be done. And so, with apparent enthusiasm I started moving through the motions along with everyone else.

And then something changed. I felt a slight tingle running up my spine not unlike the feeling you get when a lover runs a hand across your naked back as you lay there early in the morning exhausted but sated. As the bride walked up the aisle under the high beamed ceiling with ornate stucco and deco chandeliers I saw in their faces a single piercing look: Love. Unadulterated, unmasked, naked, raw … love.

As the subtext of the words of not just the poem, but the vows too resonated deep inside, low and rumbling like a cello in the hands of Yo-Yo Mah himself I stood in awe of the commitment and certainty that had lead to this point. I realised then that I wanted this as well – the opportunity to affirm and dedicate my love and devotion before G’d and friends so that they too knew of my heart’s one true wish.

Later that night, after the exquisitely prepared food and flowing wine we stood in what seemed to me, a perfect romantic moment. Perhaps with questionable intent, I gazed across a courtyard glistening with a soft falling drizzle towards something that was slipping further and further from my reach. Devils rush in where angels fear to tread, and I fell back towards my base instincts and allowed Mephistopheles to spirit me away towards the shadows of carnal knowledge and need.

After a while, we returned briefly from the shadows to the candlelight and the crowds of people had all but vanished leaving behind the stalwarts who had been there all along in each others lives. With the midnight hour creeping up slowly, we all started saying our teary goodbyes. Promises were made that will take a lifetime to keep, but they are heartfelt and genuine. Like the people that I now can really consider true friends.

And there strolling towards my car, I realised that my phone was flashing – alerting me to the waiting message. And with a smile I replied, started up the car and navigated my way along the abandoned streets of my city towards the address I had been given. Having both done dirty deeds, dirt cheap in dark corners of our souls he truly is a kindred spirit I will keep our pact for as long as my education will allow.

… was I?

They say that when you get your heart broken, your biggest insecurity is born, an orphan feeling that has little to do with reality. One friend, a girl who worked for the Financial Times, told me that when her boyfriend left, she thought it was because she wasn’t smart enough. How anyone could make her feel stupid is beyond me. For me it was a physical fear. Was I not good looking enough? It disappeared, or so I thought, the day I saw him with his new boyfriend. A balding, fifty something pot bellied dwarf with no soul. I’m not strike you down in the street good looking, but come on you’ve got to be kidding me. It’s been a few months since. Chest’s stopped hurting, and although it’ healed funny, the heart is now pumping at normal speed. But every now and then that feeling comes back unannounced, like a stubborn cold-sore. I met someone recently, a co-worker of a friend while at dinner in one of those trendy restaurants than ban smoking. A few dates later this demi-god tells me the story of a recent break-up. No he isn’t in love with him anymore. Really! Doesn’t think about him, doesn’t even talk about him. Even after all those years. He’s over him. Did he mention that they just broke up? His bedroom walls are the same colour as the rest of this fake-Tuscan palazzo, a smouldering cigarette burning nearby, and a kiss on his mouth that tastes like bourbon and ash seems to suck all the air out of me. Shirts flying everywhere, a belt-buckle clinking on a tile-floor and then the sound of elastic rubber snapping on naked skin. The coldness of lube being applied, heavy breathing, a big thick stubby hard cock. A pelvic dance. Then nothing. Did he stop or did I? He can’t go forward. His boyfriend’s face in the dark. A thousand apologies, the cold of the corridor. On the drive back home, in the darkness of the early morning, a tingling sensation on my heart like a cold-sore on your lip.
Was I not good looking enough?

… skies the limit?

Lured by the love of the genii that moves in the depths of a purple sky, the world seemed to stand still as the only sounds were the thoughts that filled the void left by my echoing screams of euphoria lost to the wind. And there hanging like some angel’s marionette in the sky, I looked down below me as in the distance that was 3,500ft or less the mounds of sodden green welcomed me to their bosom while I fell at a frightening pace towards them.

Before, the morning spent in huddles of fearful bonding between instructions receded into memory as the words become my own actions. What seemed like hours were only minutes and what seemed impossible was now conquered. The words of his book were true, I remembered later as we sat near a roaring camp fire drinking warm beer, ruminating the history that now linked us strangers late into the night. Perhaps we even discovered a few truths of our own hidden.

And in the shadows the untruths lay, discarded by this eclipsed moment of borrowed time. And then I suddenly it felt like the wind was knocked out of me and I pause realising something about myself. I really, really liked this guy.

… I hope you came prepared?

 As I curled up onto my favourite sofa, I re-read the inscription written on the first page of the book he had given to me for Christmas. And slowly a smile crept from the corners of my lips. More and more, I am finding that this friendship that came from no where seems more and more right on so many levels that at times it’s a little frightening that someone can know me so well without knowing anything about me at all? And so, I turned the first page of a new chapter, both literally and figuratively started my own personal odyssey of self discovery that would be the master blueprint for 2009.

Well baby I’m a put-on-a-show kinda girl. Don’t like the backseat, gotta be first. I’m like the ringleader I call the shots. I’m like a firecracker – I make it hot when I put on a show …

As part of the process, the book describes in detail how to start making your life a masterpiece. As I read the words before me, the brush of my imagination moved towards the palette of my life’s’ experiences and I started painting a masterpiece on the canvas of my life. In deciding what’s right for me, I’ve decided what’s possible. In recreating my life in every detail, I’m not too concerned about the process of getting from where I am, to where I want to go. For now I’m just focussing on creating a vision of my perfect future.

 

Don’t stand there watching me, follow me; show me what you can do. Everybody let go, we can make a dance floor just like a circus …

 

Despite my flaws, which are only human I am a remarkably intelligent, compassionate, loyal, person with a vast capacity to love, and be loved. I have a natural charm and wit, and despite being incredibly shy, am able to walk into a room and be the focus of attention not because of anything other than being present. I am me. I am something worth more than I have accepted in the past.

 

So who would be the ideal partner in all this? Tall, dark and handsome comes to mind, but then so does a poisonous apple and a wolf in sheep’s clothing. I know that he’s out there, that thirty-something professional at the top of his game who is both masculine and sensitive. A person who doesn’t just care about his own good looks but the welfare of others. He is warm and loving and adventurous.

 

With just a smile, that amazing smile he is able to kindle an unquenchable passion in my heart. Above all, as I move from one experience to another, I become better informed and more accepting of myself. These things will bring me the peace of mind that I seek to save an enquiring soul. A think a peace of mind comes from knowing that I am in control, rather than being in the control of others.

 

There’s only two types of guys out there, ones that can hang with me, and ones that are scared. So baby I hope that you came prepared. I run a tight shift so, beware!

 

Impeccably dressed, frightening well informed, and exquisitely mannered in 2008; I will emerge as the quintessential luxury expert of the South African market in 2009, and strategist of first choice to leading companies within the private banking and financial; luxury and premium product retail, management and distribution; and emerging brands within the scope of engagement.

 

The few projects undertaken, and those about to come to fruition will be the foundation on which will see Saxecoburg Partners become a market-making company in 2009. Not just a vehicle for personal wealth generation, it will group with other industry leaders taking advantage of not just professional, but personal synergies which have profitable outcomes.

 

Financial freedom isn’t about having an infinite bank balance, although that does help a lot, but rather the freedom to pursue a quality of life that is a just reward for hard work. Fulfilling my basic needs, I want to avoid a conspicuous lifestyle that contradicts my heritage. Instead I want to focus on building a parallel legacy that gives a voice to those without one, namely: animals, children and the aged.

 

I feel the adrenaline moving through my veins. Spotlight on me and I’m ready to break. I’m like a performer; the dance floor is my stage.

 

First of my goals for the coming year, it to find the perfect place to live within the city – a pied a tier that is big enough to entertain my friends and family, but small enough to lock and go when I need to without worrying about maintenance and security. Keywords used to describe this space? Something that is comfortable; elegant; tranquil; open; and above all my own personal home, my first true home.

 

Second is starting, and maintain an active regime of exercise. Obviously polo remains my priority, but following long-time passions like yoga, kendo, pilates, fencing and super-bike racing are high on the list. I want to try something new every month – be it hiking, diving, cooking, or whatever feeds my imagination at the time. Getting enough sleep, eating the right foods and getting my weight down are the building blocks to this.

 

Let’s go. Let me see what you can do. I’m runnin’ this (like like like like a circus) Yeah. Like a what? (like like like like a circus)…

 

So buckle up darlings, it’s going to be a bumpy ride …

… at twelve, will there be a knock at the front door?

“Daddy-o, you’ve got the swagger of a champion/too bad for you, you just can’t find the right companion/I guess when you have one too many, makes it hard, it could be easy/who you are, that’s just who you are, baby” blared the music as I accelerated my Mini around the Van Buren slip-road and headed onto the N3 north towards an expectant lunch date at the Fourways Design Quarter.

“Womanizer, woman-womanizer, you’re a womanizer, oh womanizer, oh you’re a womanizer, baby/you, you, you are, you, you, you are a womanizer, womanizer, womanizer (womanizer)” I screeched back out of key to no one in particular with the broadest grin on my face. I was having a party of my own and I was host/DJ/and guest of honour all rolled into one.

The Highveld sun streamed through the open sunroof and the heady aroma of the no fun skinny kiddies latte with wings in my hand, there was seemingly all the time in the world before New Years Eve stuck in a few hours time and I would welcome the new year along with all the opportunities and challenges that it would bring. But as the last few hours of the old year still on my mind, I wanted to put it behind me.

With so much good that had happened there were one or two black clouds that marred the beautiful ice-cream sunset that stretched over the horizon. And while the baggage that I’m getting rid of may be Louis Vuitton, it’s baggage that’s on its way out the door.

But for now, please accept only my sincere best wishes for the New Year and all that it will unpack for you and your loved ones. All I have to say is “lollipop, you must mistake you’re a sucker. To think that I, would be a victim, not another say it, play how you want it. But no way I’m never gonna fall for you, never you, baby.”

… the email signature?

A while back, as we sat drinking our cappuccinos on the Library Lawns, he said something that has lingered in the back of my mind. It was over a year ago when I reincarnated these pages that my intention was to be more honest and open than I had in the past. Whether it was habit or just what happens between life the paterfamilias crept back in and what I really wanted to say was pushed out into the nether regions of my conscious. So I’m not going to be too harsh on myself, as I tend to when suffering moments of self-doubt.

 

The truth is, in moments of honesty that he seems to be the only friend that I have right now. And as the end of a bad week not only drew to a close, but blood, I realised that my self-destructive behaviour wasn’t the defensive mechanism I had thought but in reality a time bomb waiting to go off at the worst possible time in my life. In a moment of blind faith, I want to take a chance on a friendship despite the fear that comes with opening yourself up to someone new. The only difference is that this time, I know that the feeling is mutual.

 

As I grow up, I learn that even the one person that wasn’t supposed to ever let me down did and through the years has left me with an ever widening gap of never understanding my [biological] father’s reason as he stood in the middle of the Lucas Oval after a parent’s day punching me in a drunken stupor and how for weeks afterwards it wasn’t the knowing looks of the spectators there but the shame I felt inside because it was my reality. A shame I live with everyday still of being a physically abused child of an alcoholic father.

 

That I will have my heart broken probably more than once and it’s harder every time and feels more acute as I realise that it isn’t a metaphor, or even figurative. Heart break is literally what it is and it never got easier after the Squirrel, or the Paper-Perfect Person or the Sales Guy after that. It started before them and will not end with them but with the orgiastic green light that recedes before me.

 

I’ll break hearts too, and will remember how it felt when mine was broken even though I can still imagine her standing there asking me if I would give her one last hug and knowing that one would never be enough as I saw the tears well up in her eyes. Believing then that I loved her and will always love her despite my shortcoming in not meeting her expectations. That somehow I was never enough.

 

That I’ll fight with my best friends as time separates us and the feeling that the friendship has become unequal. What I put in seems like more than I’m getting out and I question why I bother anymore. That I might never forgive the conscious deception that comes with knowing what the two closest to your heart did when you put your trust into their hands.

 

I’ll blame a new love for things an old one did but in his perseverance and patience has shown me that love is more than has been my experience in the past. That the physical is only one aspect in an adult friendship and the balance is in the discovery.

 

I’ll cry because time is passing too fast and because it feels I’m living on borrowed time. That I will eventually lose someone I love and fear it is my parents who I just cannot seem to connect with at the moment. There is an air of simmering discontent that hardens and darkens moments of clarity. Every which way forward seems to be a wall too high to scale … but needs to be.

 

In the coming year I want to take too many pictures, laugh even if it seems I didn’t get the joke, and take a chance on love and believe in it as if been hurt because every sixty seconds that I spend upset is a minute of happiness with friends and family and a one day a lover I’ll never get back.

 

My coming New Year’s resolution is that I won’t be afraid that my life will end, but rather that it will never begin!

 

… angels and demons?

Father, forgive me it has been 17yrs since my last confession. In these years I have been envious of the world around me, coveting a lifestyle that I did not want; coveting men and women that I did not need; and coveting relationships that weren’t mine to be had | blessed is he who reads aloud the words of the prophecy  and blessed are those who hear and who keep what is written therein for the time is near |  Father, I have consumed everything and everyone with an uncontrollable gluttony – unable to stop even when satisfied.  Craving food that does not nourish my body and the sexual intimacy of strangers who are unable to satisfy the loneliness within | he is coming with the clouds and every eye will see him everyone who pierced him  and all the tribes of the earth will wail on account of him  | Father, it’s easy to say I am a product of the time we live in but I am wracked with accumulating material possessions that sometimes I can neither afford nor keep – and yet I keep on buying more, wanting more, needing more  | those of you who have not learned what some call the deep things of Satan I know your works; I know your toil, and your patient endurance and how you cannot hear evil men but have tested those who call themselves apostles, but are not  and found them to be false I know that you are enduring patiently and you have not grown weary but I have this against you that you have abandoned the love you had  |Father forgive me of my pride that often dictates how I view the world and the action I take therein  I believe without merit or reason in my abilities that exceed often my knowledge | and I saw a beast rising out of the sea with ten horns and seven heads and a blasphemous name upon its head  and the beast that I saw was like a leopard its feet were like a bear’s and its mouth was like a lion’s mouth and to it the dragon gave his power and the whole earth followed the beast with wonder and they worshipped the beast saying:” who is like the beast and who can fight against the beast?” and it opened its mouth to utter blasphemous words against God it was allowed to make war on the saints and to conquer  and authority was given it over every tribe  and a people and tongue and nation  and all who dwell on earth could worship it in vain if anyone has an ear let him hear if anyone who slays with the sword  | Father, I have become spiritually barren as the weeds of the world have chocked the garden of purity that once was my soul  In abandoning the house of G’d I have abandoned my own salvation  Where once I believed in everything now I believe in nothing  I am unable to trust the words uttered by those I love – scared to be disappointed again | then, I saw a new heaven and a new earth  and I heard a great voice from the throne saying: “behold the dwelling of god is with men he will dwell with them ,and they shall be his people and God himself will be with them he will wipe away every tear from their eyes and death shall be no more neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore  for these things will have passed away  to the thirsty I will give water without price  from the fountain of the water of life he who conquers shall have this heritage and I will be his God and he shall be my son but as for the cowardly, the faithless, the polluted as for the murderers, fornicators, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars their lot shall be in the lake that burns with fire“ | Father my vanity runs amok and I believe that I am better than most because of the privilege to which I was born  I encourage this with the people I meet, places I visit and lifestyle I lead | and he said to me, he said to me: “do not seal up the words of the prophecy, for the time is near  behold, I am coming soon“ | Father, I lust after a man that I met on Saturday night at a party. He is everything that I want in this moment. In the perfume of the evening night, I could smell his sex on his warm moist skin inked with words that govern my view of the world. With false pretence, we have started something that both are unable to finish – but the attraction is there – and we are drawn to the inevitable conclusion | I am the alpha and the omega I am the first and the last I am the beginning and the end  | Father, I come to you to ask for absolution of my sins  Father, hear my prayers | Amen

… nomvula?

Have you ever been at a loss for words? When no matter how hard you try you feel you can’t say anything? Or better yet have so much to say that you’re struck dumb because of them? I feel like that right now. For two weeks the words have been gathering like the storm clouds on the horizon of a hot, lazy Highveld afternoon.

I want to be selfish for a little while and enjoy this secret tryst. I’m not sure if it’s his boyish looks, his natural charm or his unassuming self-confidence or the fact that he excites me on every level imaginable – physically, mentally and sexually but there we have it. He does.

This is a secret that I want to keep. I want to keep feeling like this for as long as I can – without the outside world peeking in. In the absence of being able to voice the change within, I turn to words written by someone else that captures everything I want to say, but cannot articulate. Everything I feel, but cannot express. Everything I want, but cannot yet envisage.

For the first time in 31-yrs, I have experienced myself through the expression of someone else in the way he looks at me, the way he touches me, the way that he doesn’t have to try because his natural expression is true - but the two words that can make it up and out are simply: thank-you.