Ehh

Imagine being lost in your own world. Imagine being so deep inside the four walls of your mind that you literally could never escape on your own. Imagine if the only way of escape was through third party forces. When I think of this, I have an image of Indiana Jones or someone, running around a temple and being attacked by various things and setting off booby traps. Ah watch out, there's the spinning saw blade of work and over there is the quicksand of responsibilities. If you take a wrong turn in these corridors then you might just get shot with the poison darts of paying your mortgage. All these real world things attack our head space but there's always that thing that makes perfect sense to us and kind of shines the way out to us, shows us the way of escape and we can be free of that suffocating tomb even if for a few moments. Do you think that the things we love are the things that bring us out? You know how every person has that thing that they do that makes them feel at peace with the world and all its occupants. Whether it be playing sport, making music, doing art or even taking drugs. There are things we do that just make so much sense to us and I can't help thinking that what if those are the escapes we weave together for a brief moment for us to be out in the world.

I spoke to this music student a few nights ago. We sat for a good ten or so minutes in silence because neither one of us seemed to be so great at this small talk thing. I was sitting inside my head trying to find anything that I could throw out to fill in the silence and I'd like to imagine that that was what was going through his head too because of not, then I just worried over nothing and could've stayed my comfortable hermit self. We got onto the subject of music and for the next ten minutes or so, we both were out in the world, interacting free from the setbacks of real life. I could see that this was what brought this guy out of the tomb. He saw the shining lights of the exit door and was out here, telling me about what he found most passionate about. I think that it must be the same for athletes. They spend most of their waking hours training and getting themselves into the perfect condition for that moment where their mind state is at one with the surroundings of their body.

Off the top of my head, I'd say that the key to happiness is finding that thing that brings you out of your shell and then delving straight into it like your life depended on it. If you're into art, if that's what gets you hot under the collar and sets your blood racing faster than a hobo to a free food buffet, drown yourself in it. There's no real ending to this post, I feel like I've been way too positive and upbeat so now you guys can find your own ending.
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Montreal - Bloc Party (Saddest song in the whole world.)

The snow is still falling on St. Catherine
Losing the day time to faire le goûter
But Tommy keeps calling, says he wants his money
You´re messing with the big boys, don´t you know?
When are you coming back home? Asks Lucy,
I miss you

But then I tell her that it´s not my home anymore
And you made it perfectly clear

Don´t you get lonely, all up in your tower
Losing the night time to sit and to speak
Tommy keeps calling, says you better be here (wants his money)
You´re messing with the big boys, don´t you know?
When are you coming back home? Asks Lucy
I miss you

But then i tell her that it´s not my home anymore
And you made it perfectly clear

But Then i tell her It´s not my home anymore
and you made it perfectly clear
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Face Time

Face Time. That's that thing you do when you see your other half and do trivial activities that don't lead to any kind of advancement besides the emotional kind. Basically the stuff that most guys cringe at. Ol' Benbob said to me, "If it's gay, send me a message and I'll come get you quick fast." Luckily it wasn't too bad.

Face time usually involves doing shopping, having little lunch dates, hanging out with a group of friends and most importantly and rather annoyingly, meeting and socialising with the family. Ask any guy and they'll tell you right now that the first couple of meetings with people from her world are always the most awkward moments of life. I've heard some truly horrific stories ranging from having to spend most of the day trimming hedges with the man of the house to nearly being kicked out for absent mindedly making anti-semetic remarks. I don't think people actually realise how hard it is being a guy and having to meet the people she associates with. As a guy, you're the character that, at first, is always looked at as being the one to who's trying to steal the poor girl's innocence. You need to be both funny and charming and know everything about sports and what new colours are in next summer and whether on not oil on a 1985 model Ford should be changed every three months and how to create a perfect crab dinner. You have to come in there guns blazing with every kind of right answer and perfect gesture because one small slip up can lead to years of miserable hours forced down the line.

On Saturday I went to hang out with The Face in her little world. I was a little apprehensive at first because I'm generally not so great in environments I don't know a lot about. I was at a party the night before and had a flipping late night and an unbelievably early morning so I wasn't feeling too fresh. I got there and the very first thing I did, as I usually do, is I made friends with the dog. Now I must be honest and say I love me a good pooch. I can't not have a little interaction with a dog when I come across one, I dig those homies. As I walked in the gate, the dog and I played around a bit and then as the gate was closing, the little dick decided to bolt out and make a dash for it. So now I'm running out the gate calling this thing and it decides to be an even bigger asshole and jumps through the fence and into the adjacent complex. There stands me at the fence, calling to this thing that's laughing at me and this vision in my mind of me being the dick that lost the dog. This little prick doesn't quite get that I'm trying to make a good impression here. I'm trying real hard this time to actually be normal and now you're going and ruining things before they've even begun. Luckily, no one liked that dog and I could get on with trying to be normal.

All in all it actually wasn't a bad time at all. I can't really say I remember much of the names that I was told or every single detail to the day except that I was feeling a little desire to engage in some lip locking but for the most part it was decent. I met a little boy who winks smoother than double cream and is probably fuelled on the energy only found in the middle of a Cornetto. If I could be half that slick, I'd die a happy man.
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Thwarting.

As a hero, there are so many things I can do. I'm like a jack of all trades when it comes to getting stuck in and doing stuff but I have one large, and very weird Achilles heel.

Ask me to make you supper and I'll mash you a great dinner with a dessert too if I'm feeling nice. I've painted both our living room and my own bedroom. I once blindly navigated through the streets of Johannesburg with nothing more than broken directions and an internal compass pointed in the direction of Durban. I can be superhuman at the best of times and on a whole different ethereal plain if need be but for some odd reason, I cannot poo with a jacket on.

If there is one thing I seem to struggle with, it's dropping a deuce in a jacket o hoodie. I just went to unleash a coil and I couldn't start. I was a little confused as I sat there waiting for the magic to happen and then it hit me, take off the over covering. I had to take off my hoodie before the gates of Colon were opened and the procession went ahead. I don't know what it is that makes me life this. I don't know if I feel over dressed for such a relaxed occasion or if I fear getting my clothes dirty by some freakish chance but it just never works. I thing I need to see a psychologist or something about this because this could become a problem. This could be something my enemies use to thwart me!

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Lost

I'm in bed right now, with no sleep coming my way and a head full of thoughts.

It's my cousin's funeral in a few hours. I had and still have every intention of being there. I would very much love to be there, it's a big deal in the family and a big deal to me. I told my mom I'd go last week. She said to me that I didn't have to, that it was something she really didn't expect me to do especially considering the fact that I don't often go to such things but I really want to. My biggest concern right now is that for me, I'm basically stuck in the middle of nowhere. I can't sleep and that's made me think about my plan of action and the truth of the matter is that I don't have one. I know that if I try leave here, there's every chance of me not finding a way out and homewards and that's no good on my tight schedule. I have to be home before 8. I told my parents I would sleep at home on friday night but it was better for me to be out considering the fact that the house would be filled to over flowing. I'm at a loss as to whether to try conduct heroics and mission to be home before everyone leaves or to sit this one out, knowing that I wouldn't really be of much use anyway. I'm not the most integral cog in the whole extended family structure. I'm the strange cousin who seems to always be on his own mission, the intimidating character that is hard to get cosy with. I do try, I really do try to be accommodating but it can be hard, it's just how I am sometimes.

I'm going to phone my mom when I wake up, see what she has to say about this and then decide from there. I want to be there but I also don't want to try go if it will be all in vain.
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Breakfast Bob

Someone needs to come up with a definitive guide to what meals can be eaten at what time for breakfast because I am all over the show.

I generally tend to wake up at about 11am on a good day at home which kind of means I wake up in the hour of limbo. Breakfast all over the world stops being served at about 10ish and lunch is only an hour away, so what must I do? I never know if I should have cereal anyway and call it as I see it, being my first meal of the day or if I should skip along and have a bigger meal and be satisfied for lunch. I tend to always have a bit of confusion when it comes to meal times, so much so that I once just had a tomato all day because I didn't know where food would fit in on the clock.

Today is no different. I'm up now and as I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, lovely things like egg and bacon and mushies and all those sweet breakfast bobs stare at me lovingly and as I turn around and stare into the cupboard, noodles and tuna and toast making goods try seduce me with their eatery wiles. I'm weak man, I love me some good food. So much so that I haven't even kept to my diet at all this week. I've been all over the show, eating this and that all willy nilly and if I don't get back into my routine then it'll begin to show.

I wrote this post to try and clear my head so I could have time to decide what I'll have. Seeing as this will be the meal that'll tide me over till dinner time, I think it's best I have toasted cornflakes, bacon, egg and cheese on a bed of tuna noodles.
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Snuffed Out.

My cousin died this morning. Not the greatest opening line I've ever had if I'm honest. Not the greatest post I'll ever write either.

I was at Ben's house this morning when I got the message from my parents. My dad sent me an sms and I was like, whoa that's quite heavy and then a few hours later my mom sent me a message too, that's when it really hit. My cousin Mlu, or Jack, as he was more affectionately known was definitely one, if not my most favourite cousin. He stayed with us when he was studying his electrical engineering degree thingy so he was with us for a while. He was leaving work when he was in an accident. Completely snuffed out young and in his prime. Right when everything was looking up, it all went upside down.

We got on well. I've always been the youngest around my cousins, even though there are younger rats than me. I was always the kid that was too big for his boots and always tried to squeeze himself into what they all were doing. I can see now, when I look back, that I was poes annoying and that's why I give the younger rats some face time because I know what it's like to hustle. He always gave me a bit of time. That kind of thing stuck with me.

When I met up with my dad at his office this afternoon, he told me that it had really hit my mom hard. We went from his office to my aunt's house and the atmosphere was intensely heavy. I'm not one who is often touched by things like that, I've seen deaths in the family before but there was something different about this. This was something that bothered my ultimate favourite lady ever, my mom and her sister, my second favourite. You know when you sit there trying to kind of find something to say but no words come to you? They teach you how to deal with this kind of thing in school. They don't teach you how to speak to a grieving person in L.O. No one teaches you about the social cues, you've got to learn that for yourself. We're stuck on this planet with so little tools and knowledge that I kind of wonder, what even is the point of spending 12 years of your life being "taught" so you can be prepared for life when the real truth is that as soon as you walk out those school gates, the first thing that comes at you will leave you flat on your face?

This life is amazing, a real blessing and that's something we often take for granted from most days. I know that's so cliché to say right now but that's where my mind is, trapped deep inside every single clichés.

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