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It’s time to begin

It’s time to begin my life. I’m tired of walking through the empty streets and through the passageways of life confined by the city walls around me. I want to fly like a butterfly and let the wind guide me to my destination. I wish I can accomplish my dreams. For as wishes go, I remember them all too well. A wish is a reality.  A dream is a combination of our innermost fears and situation awareness. But why do we need to change? How much do we grow as humans? Or can we change and grow and still stay the same? The answers lie in the people around us. We all want to change for the good. Although we don’t know the beauty that lies in what we have. Why try to improve? We are complete in our entirety, dreams and all. 

The band is performing on a empty stage, the crowd is going mad and screaming. I was once a youth too, standing and screaming and going crazy. I was looking for moments of freedom, shouting the words of yesterday at the top of my lungs. The world catches up, we change for the worse, think too much, lose interest. And we start the walk which ends in an alley way with only one way forward. The corridors are either lit, or we have to guide through the darkness without reason. We get lost and sometimes we don’t know how to get back into the light.

It’s time to begin a journey, a long journey which I don’t know where it will end. I need to pack my bags because I don’t know where I am going. 

I find myself in a field, the vivid colours of dreams scattered across the sky. It is wide open spaces and I run naked. I am alone in this world, the sadness fills me. I guess the loneliness is too much, I long for your understanding. 

I need a reason, a purpose to excel. Where is the drive, the passion? I am a forgotten, I have made my bed under the stars as my passageway is too dark. 

Where do I find meaning, how would I get to the end? It is time to begin and I don’t know who I am. 

Don’t shed a tear, don’t blink. Move forward, get up. Climb the walls of the city and open your wings. I was crawling like a caterpillar, I just need a little bit of wind to make me fly. It’s time to begin, slow, with purpose. 

There is a chance that we will end up alone. Being alone is fine. It might be a solo flight. All I know is that there is wind, a little bit of grass in my field and the memories. Sadness, I will never escape you. You are like the air we breath. 

I close my eyes, I open my wings, I disappear into the night sky. The wind knows where we are going and I fine with that. 

It is easy to lose touch

It’s been a while and in the seconds that have passed, my craziness has flared up and burnt my tree house to the ground. Fuck knows why I decided to build a tree house in the first place. Climbing has never been my strong point. I am more the type of person that likes the easy life. Ground floor, secluded. It makes me think though. I reckon that I must be quite strong. Do I ever seek approval for the person I am? At arms length I keep people away, a crooked smile and a tint of happiness. I don’t think you are any different. You said I helped to heal you, while I am continuing to break down my sanity. I wish I can give you the opportunity to do the same. You only try and you hold me while I am running away. 

I better shape up. I need to be a better man. Your patience is a virtue. 

Deep inside you are the one that I want.

So why am I such a fucking asshole? Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck. I am annoyed because I take the easy route out. I need to stand up. Stop feeling so fucking sorry for myself. I need to make an effort! Let’s burn that fucking tree house down and build the mansion I always wanted. The power of one must multiply like stars in the heaven. Shooting away, trying to find meaning. But do we need to find meaning in this crazy life? Let’s take it step by step, try to smile more. Sincerity is the beginning and I should stop being so fucking scared. And I should stop feeling sorry for myself. The word owes me nothing and I have overcome all the barriers that was ever in my way. 

Let’s embark on an mental exercise. Close your eyes. Picture a blue sky, a beautiful tree-lined street. Green grass and a certain peacefulness. Now imagine that life with you in it. There is no need to add pain to it, to add a past or a future because it is perfect in its existence. That is the thing, I must realise that the barriers I have created are stopping me. I am sitting on power, power to change the world. And I should stop feeling sorry for myself. Stop today, because it has been too long now and I am rather getting annoyed with my own crap.

So let’s draft a few goals. Short-term ones:

1) Start smiling more. Not like a pedophile.

2) Stop thinking the world owes me anything. The world owes me fuckol. I owe the world.  

3) Allow yourself to be happy. Share the happiness of others, go out of your way, make an effort and if you are lucky, happiness will come to you. Just open your mind to it.

Three goals for this week. And stop losing touch with yourself. Never walk away, come back here, talk it out, put your life in perspective. I was a pretty big asshole the last couple of months and I can be pretty grateful that I still have her. 

Go on and be great. I’m looking forward to hear from you again soon!

finding strength from within

I struggle with words, with emotions. I find it difficult to express myself. I choose to live behind a wall, to hide my feelings from others. I guess the scars from the past I will always carry with me.

Let us analyze, take a step back, see me for me. It is obvious that I have been hurt in the past. All the friendships I ever had, well, have disappeared. I am left alone. I have you in my life now, but I can’t place that burden on top of you. You deserve the best of me.

Am I so arrogant that I think that others don’t deserve my attention? That I only save the little warmth in me for the elite? I struggle to make friends, I struggle to build relationships. In the end I am sad and I am alone and if this was a pop song I would be lying naked on the floor, searching for acceptance. What is acceptance? Do I really need you to tell me that you approve of me? It is easier to run away, because by running I don’t need to face the criticism. Is life about getting hurt? You can’t live if you don’t get hurt, you have never thought if you don’t have the scars to prove it. Unfortunately I often feel like I have fought my battle, that my war must be over now. Why do I always need to be at war with myself?

I don’t have a way forward anymore. I need to find a way to put myself out there. Fear. I fear the unknown, I fear everything that everyone else stands for. I wish I can say that I see myself as an awesome person. I wish I can say that the world is a beautiful place and that I, I make it a little bit more beautiful. The pop song lingers on and I’m shivering on the floor. Where will I find the strength to fight this final battle? I am saddened, always broken, never mended. My only wish is to reach the potential that was written in the stars for me.

I should not be afraid. I should not be afraid.

I need to change, day by day I need to work on this. This is going to be hard. It is the constant battle of my life. I need to connect. How to connect with people, the story by me. To be written in the future. I need to go back a few steps. I was great once, I lost the storyline and made up my own ending. I need to work on my life, I blame, don’t take ownership. It is easy to pass the blame to someone else. I am deeply broken, always taking care, I wish you could hold me now. Broken youth, broken man. I hope the story ends well.

Tomorrow is another day, I am scared. I need to work on myself. I neglect. Get lost. And here I thought the sadness has escaped. I am always at war, the end goal is peace, the end goal is to get rid of the scars. Healing. The power to forgive. Write me a pop song, let’s go:

I was lost and consumed by the world

Naked I was running, so so far

The power of you, the power of me

ever-present, healing soon

but here I am naked, standing in front

of you

the power of you to control me

the power of you to heal me

the power of you to hate me

the power of you to console me

you have stolen my heart

I wish you could mend it too

The fairytale must begin, the pop song must continue forward. Some day I wish they could write a book about this. I would be standing naked in the garden looking at the stars. And yet the longing for a better world continues. I need to find the strength, the strength to fight, to heal to forgive. I love you. Help me see the strength inside me, help me choose the light, never give up on me.

The theory of sadness

One is not very sad. One is morose. And yet the daily struggle continues. When do you stop caring? Sadness is a state of the mind classified by the negative. The ending will be sad. I know that now. I don’t know what to do? Turmoil. And I will hurt you. I will hurt myself. And another day of sadness continues…When must you stop being the hero? Love hurts. Choose life, results in death…selfish…and in the nothingness of an empty life, the beast crawls out and shouts to the world, I want to be alive!

It hurts me. And do I need to care? Is it wrong to care? Am I not pulling the trigger? It is russian roulette, my number is always up. So who is next? Bang bang, you’re dead….Am I the selfish fucker? Selfabsorbtion? I’m tired of lying…so please tell me, how can I make it better, without making it worse?

Sadness is concentrating on the negative…It is wrong to be sad? You expect an apology. The beast don’t apologise. And the beauty runs up the passage, the rose, and I love you and the petal falls. Sometimes the fairytale is not enough. And the hatred continues. Bang bang you’re dead…Salvation lies within.

Was it another lie? Despair…you can laugh it off, your eyes will give you away. I don’t think we are strong enough. Being alone is sad, your sadness will stop, my pain will continue. Love is not enough…But as for now, I gonna hear the sadest songs…When it’s good, it’s great. Will it be enough.

I choose you. But I can’t fake it hard enough to please everyone, it’s the place that I have come to fear the most.

Pick yourself up. Another day awaits. I must remember to smile. Stuck. And barely scraping by. I don’t have the energy left to fight. And the crooked smile gives me away. And the sadness will be my ending, I’m sorry you have to see me die. I did love you. The beast was just too selfish and the beauty didn’t make it in time.


It is hard to face the truth. You can run, you can even hide, but in your heart you know that you have been lying to yourself. Still third person right? I can run, I can hide, but I know I have been lying to myself. So I have to trace back to the beginning. Tonight I’m feeling sad, I’m feeling lost. I often wonder if a person can erase a memory, forget. I can’t remember much of my life before the age of 7. I don’t want to remember much of my life afterwards. And the sadness continues and consumes me and I have to fight the beast. Happiness is captured in a photograph. A kid, a sandpit, a few cars and jungle gym. But the happiness ended. And we moved into a small flat, I shared a bedroom, my sister got the bad end of the deal. I need to forgive. I don’t want to forgive. The pain. Tears. It hurts, down my chest, in my throat. I need to forgive. I was only a young boy. Now I am a man, crying like a boy over the sadness of a forgotten time. I can run from it, I can even hide but the sadness catches up and pain rips, agony from the time of a forgotten past, to the present, to me, here. Pain lies in simplicity. Often a few words hits the hardest.

I need to write it, otherwise it will stay hidden forever. It is silly, it was so so long ago. 10 October 1998. We were playing in the provincial chess trials. It was a Saturday. We played a game on the Saturday morning, and after the game, me and a friend decided to walk to the Menlyn Park shopping centre. On our way back, we walked over the highway. Some hawkers were selling strawberries, and threw the rotten strawberries aside. My friend and I decided to it would be a good idea to throw the strawberries onto the highway and see it crash onto the cars. It is such a silly notion, schoolboy fun. The police spotted us, picked us up, gave us a talking to, thought we were throwing rocks. Took our numbers and phoned our parents. Back at home, got a talking to. My parents said they were disappointed in me. I cried. Had to go play another game later the afternoon, lost off course. My friend said his parents thought it was really funny and could see the humour in it. Kids will be kids. 11 October 1998. My birthday. Too be honest, I can’t remember a thing about it. It was a Sunday. My family never had money in October, my dad only got his bonus at the end of October, so like usual, I only received presents when my dad got his bonus. No presents for me. Happy birthday to me. 12 October 1998. Afrikaans class at school. For some reason people knew it was my birthday. Terrible weekend just behind me. My teacher asked me if I enjoyed my birthday. She asked if I received nice presents, asked what I got. I lied. That was the last time I cried for 4 years. I only cried again when I found out the bitch cheated on me. That was 14 years ago. I’ll be 28 soon. Half my lifetime, for so long I have been living in pain. Hating my birthday. Words of disappointed. I never seemed to have recovered from that day. People have tried to make my birthday special. They cried with me at the end of the day. When I turned 22, I decided to work late, worked until 9 at night. I didn’t want to see anybody. I told the people at work it was my birthday. First thing they said was, where is the cake. I hate society.

The place we fear the most is the honesty chamber in our own hearts. And you will love me, and I will hurt you. And you will cry. You need to be strong. The day is not far away. You will care about me, I will freak out, lose it. I will run away from you, you need to be strong. I can’t make a promise. It hurts so much. Half a lifetime ago, fuck.

I honestly don’t know how I made it this far. Material things are important to me. I never had anything. Maybe a little, but always had to sacrifice. I give, that is in my nature. I’m used to having nothing, for some reason I judge my life in terms of money. I’m still sad, the feeling of worthlessness caught me tonight. And you only care, you care about me. I’m so fucked up. Fucking tears. Why don’t you want to go the fuck away. I’m tired of this now. Fuck.

Pain. Honesty is when you stop lying to yourself of how fucked up you really are. Maybe then, maybe for a split second I will be able to see. The light might blind me, the sadness might escape, the fear, consumes me. What is life filled with happiness?

You will love me. You will get hurt. You will care. Be strong. Look for the honesty in me. Dry my tears for me. Stay with me. Remember to breath.

I don’t know how to go forward. I need to make a promise. I need to try. It will be hard, I need to try. I wish you could hold me. Crying in your arms is a lot better than crying alone.

when you bury it to deep

Burying your pain can present you with a few problems. I am finding it out the hard way. The funny thing is that I don’t know why I get upset anymore. And the more I want to get in touch with the pain, the more empty I feel. I often think I am being selfish. Focusing on my own pain and ignoring the pain I inflict on other people.

So today I freaked out. I have freaked out many times before. Once I remember lying on the floor crying, sadness all over. Desperately seeking her affection, the contribution to pain was what I received. And I was empty, raw sadness. I guess sometimes all we want is someone to hold us. And the funny thing of it all is, as much as I want to push you away, I want you to come back to me too. You have stolen my heart. But it is the emptiness that gets me. And I long for your touch. The tears have no meaning.

I wonder what happiness is. Is happiness reaching a state of bliss? Getting to a point where you stopped trying? Wise words. I need to let go of the pain. And forgive. And realise that it wasn’t my fault. And that I didn’t deserve any of this. Infinite potential equals infinite sadness? I need to forgive myself. The memories are gone and my house is burned and buried, built and free. And the darkness looms, the light shines and the shadows are hiding the tears of our forgotten memories. Fear of failure have never scared me. Fear of incompletion. How do you satisfy an infinite craving? My thoughts are all over and I’m not making sense…

Back to building. The secret of a good house is the foundation. I like old houses, they have good foundations. Maybe the foundation is to good, no cracks, no pain escaping. I buried it nice and deep, I can’t get to it. The foundation is solid, but do I need to change the foundation? Let’s play the game. Break a foundation, you break the house. Would I have to start building all over again, or can I dig? It is a difficult question, I need time to think about it.

In the meantime, don’t decorate the house too much. And relax. sometimes people are meant to build the biggest house on the block. Just a house they can see themselves live in.

The biggest trick of my life will be finding a way to accept. I think I need to go back and be an architect, not a builder. Add a bit of finesse. Add a bit of refinement. Put some love into it.

the place where the world should end

There is a place far away from here. A distant shore, pain-free and clear. This place does exist and like a crazy man I am standing on a beach in the middle of an island. Deserted I was once but my ship is on the horizon. My ship is beautiful, majestic and effortless she glides through the waves to come and save me. A memory gets lots in the wind, blowing free. And for so long I thought the world only ends in pain. The earth is round and I won’t fall off.  There is a pain-free world, redemption is coming.

You saved me. I was halfway falling off the earth but you saved me. Effortlessly you threw your life jacket down onto me. I was a lost man. I was standing on the island, no clue where to go. The tides were against me and here I am standing vindicated by heart. And the certainty of tomorrow becomes new.

Was my island a forgotten place? The place where the world should end? It is time to take the travel back, let’s begin:

I never thought about the pain of others. I was selfish, did not forgive. If you live on the island you never see the other ships sink. But yes, how did I not know that others might be in pain too. Obsession is a terrible thing. And I gave it back too. The water gets recycled and the salt is still in it. It is sad that for so long I was blaming others, I should be blaming myself. I never knew while the pain was stuck. The sinking whirlpool caught me, round and round we go.

It is time to set sail. I don’t know a lot. But I do know this. My ship is shattered, pieces all over, the water my friends .The journey will be hard. I have one paddle. And a life jacket. I need to find the pieces, start building it up again.

First thing first. The journey will be long. We need fresh water. I have lots of tears to provide. I need to smile, we will take passengers onboard. I need a compass. Someone to guide me.

I was once stuck on an island. Too scared to get off. I was scared that the world will end for me. That I will sail over the horizon and fall into the dismal black whirlpool of pain and sadness. The world did end, I left the island behind. And I see the future, clear. Give me your hand, let the journey continue.