Archive for March, 2009

… I want to talk about me?

Posted in Uncategorized on March 17, 2009 by moderngatsby

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?

Posted in Uncategorized on March 2, 2009 by moderngatsby

 

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.