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Thursday, March 31, 2011

Up in Smoke

Lately I've found myself with a rather out-of-character obsession... I find the image of a beautiful woman smoking to be incredible sexy. I'm not a fan of the taste or smell, but there's just something about it that I find intriguing.

*special mention must go out to my sexy friend Alèz, who smokes the sexiest cigarettes. Those slim Vogues are so sexy and add to the raw sexiness of her as a whole. I never knew how sexy you actually are until I saw you smoking those sexy Cigarettes. I'm so in love with you. Go die.*


I would like to marry you. Please<3











Here's a sexy picture of my sexy friend, Alèz. You're so sexy. and your faaaice.



So.sexy.tee.hee

Sunday, March 27, 2011

For the Love of Cheesy Puffs

I am so love drunk on cheesy puffs. But not the cheesy puffs you're thinking about. I mean the little cheese sausage rolls that you buy from spar and then bake them at home. I'm borderline obsessed and I know Sarah and Kieran are too!

Ps - if they don't have the cheesy ones, do not, I repeat, DO NOT settle for the chicken ones *insert sick face here*

But that's enough about delicious cheesy puffs. I had a really awesome time this week with the Dance, You're on Fire boys and getting serenaded by Tom and being so love drunk on his humps.

I've really enjoyed getting closer to Sarah Scrimgeour and just always being so drunk in her presence. I love how Sarah, Kieran and I will stand in the middle of Mercury and play our imaginary instruments while people look at us like we're crazy and how we can laze on the couch all day, watching Cougar Town, Family Guy and Vampire Diaries while eating Cheesy puffs and not even care.

I've started to make a lovely family here in Cape Town and I feel absolutely lucky to have them:)

On a side note - some people are just flat out rude and should get off their high horse. That's all:)

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Girls and a love for Girls

You have obviously picked up that I am not straight. I say "not straight" instead of saying "I'm gay" because lately I feel as there's a certain stereotype that clings to the term "gay" and it's a stereotype that I don't feel I fit. When I say "lesbian" the common characteristics are:

  • Likes sports
  • Drinks beer
  • Loves sushi
  • Is either vegan or vegetarian
  • Prefers the more manly looking clothes
  • Short nails, Short hair, minimal (if any) make up
(that is just a generalisation, do not take it to heart)


And the reason why I feel like I break the mold is because I find myself (especially since I've become more independent) being more girly.
  • For one, I'm growing my hurrs. I just crave long mermaid hurrs. haha I said "hurrs"
  • The other day I cut my nails and I honestly found myself sadder than usual to say goodbye to my pretty long nails, so much so that I can't wait to get them that length again.
  • I love my make up. I couldn't possibly go out without at least some effort in the facial area.
  • I can't bring myself to wear a t-shirt. I almost cringe at the manly-ness of them (okay that's a bit extreme but I have a point to make)
  • I in no way enjoy watching sports while drinking beer. I actually don't drink beer full stop. I won't even drink ciders and I find a girl with a beer in her hand to be very unattractive.
  • I like meat. mostly chicken and tuna. mmm chicken.
  • And I refuse to eat sushi (unless I fall in love with a girl who just happens to be allergic to everything but sushi)
I just think there's something so beautiful about two girls being in love. Everything is intensified. Happiness, jealousy, romance, just the raw emotions. You can share a lifetime of feelings within a few months and I find it hard to not see the beauty in that (now I just sound love drunk on her humps) but really. I know I'm definitely biased about this, but I find few things more beautiful than a woman's body. A body that inspires art and artist day after day after months and years and even decades. Although I'm not straight and it isn't the easiest road to be on, I count all my blessing to be able to experience this form of art. To get inside a girl's heart, is poetry and I'm grateful that I get to be the poet<3









Sunday, March 20, 2011

The Herp

There's so much that went on this week. I don't even know where to start.

Well I had a lovely girl by the name of Daniela stay over. Although I couldn't party with her during the week due to college and my new presenter (yes, you heard right) responsibilities, I truly loved just being in her presence and walking around town, singing out loud and speaking to midget blacks, indulging in late night quiche and R15 cocktails. Picnics and sunsets<3

Unfortunately I got a case of "The herp" or "The AIDS" as I've been referring to it as. I seem to get a fever blister every year before the first change of season and this bitch on my face really just killed my spirit, so I drowned my sorrows in spirits and had to keep from kissing the lovely people of Cape Town. Harder than you might think.

Because of The AIDS I've been talking crazy. Crazy talk I tell you. I've said things like "I'm becoming asexual" and "I don't want anybody." But let me just clear up the air. I am not afraid to love and I know that when I find you, I'm going to love you with everything I have. I'll even wash your car and plait your long mermaid hurrrs :P

But in other news, Carmen Tittie Fuck was in Cape Town and last night we showed her exactly what CPT can do. After moon-walking around town for Carnival and heel-clicking up and down roads, to drinking "Smurfs" and Jam Jars until we couldn't even play a decent game of pool, I think its safe to say that we were knee deep in bitches last night!

Tonight I'm going to smash some Sarah in my face and have a little picnic in her house, while watching series and talking tits and ass with the boys<3 my favourite kind of picnics.

That's all I have for you right now, but I have an epic week ahead planned, so look out for my adventures with Kim at Fiction, watching Dance, You're on Fire and then jamming with the lead singer Tom and Sarah afterwards and updates concerning my new presenting occupation!

Bye now<3

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

A Dream To Write

These words like roses
have edged towards me,
Beautifully seducing,
word
by
word.

I can’t remember when it was –
The time I
Fell
In love –
Like an itching I can only dream to scratch.

From childish lashes, to experienced lids,
my eyes have always hungered for what he possesses:
a Poet within these longing hands,
Poetry to spill from within this sighing mouth.

Every attempt at creation:
Another
unrequited love;
That so quick,
Takes my words
And spits them
Back.

Lifting the too-light pen
and weighing my words down with the heavy beats,
beats of this rejection-filled heart,
I write.
I write and write and write and –

Love.

The day I became a Poet:
or remembered more fondly:
The day Poetry loved
Me
Back.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Skeleton Woman

She had done something of which her father disapproved, although no one any longer remembered what it was. But her father had dragged her to the cliffs and thrown her over and into the sea. There, the fish ate her flesh away and plucked out her eyes. As she lay under the sea, her skeleton turned over and over in the currents.

One day a fisherman came fishing, well, in truth many came to this bay once. But this fisherman had drifted far from his home place and did not know that the local fisherman stayed away, saying this inlet was haunted.

The fisherman's hook drifted down through the water, and caught of all places, in the bones of Skeleton Woman's rib cage. The fisherman thought, "Oh, now I've really got a big one! Now I really have one!" In his mind he was thinking of how many people this great fish would feed, how long it would last, how long he might be free from the chore of hunting. And as he struggled with this great weight on the end of the hook, the sea was stirred to a thrashing froth, and his kayak bucked and shook, for she who was beneath struggled to disentangle herself. And the more she struggled, the more she tangled in the line. No matter what she did, she was inexorably dragged upward, tugged up by the bones of her own ribs.

The hunter had turned to scoop up his net, so he did not see her bald head rise above the waves, he did not see the little coral creatures glinting in the orbs of her skull, he did not see the crustaceans on her old ivory teeth. When he turned back with his net, her entire body, such as it was, had come to the surface and was hanging from the tip of his kayak by her long front teeth.

"Agh!" cried the man, and his heart fell into his knees, his eyes hid in terror on the back of his head, and his ears blazed bright red. "Agh!" he screamed, and knocked her off the prow with his oar and began paddling like a demon toward shoreline. And not realizing she was tangled in his line, he was frightened all the more for she appeared to stand upon her toes while chasing him all the way to shore. No matter which way he zigged his kayak, she stayed right behind, and her breath rolled over the water in clouds of steam, and her arms flailed out as though to snatch him down into the depths.

"Agh!" he wailed as he ran aground. In one leap he was out of his kayak, clutching his fishing stick and running, and the coral white corpse of skeleton woman, still snagged in the fishing line, bumpety-bumped behind right after him. Over the rocks he ran, and she followed. Over the frozen tundra he ran, and she kept right up. Over the meat laid out to dry he ran, cracking it to pieces as his mukluks bore down.

Throughout it all she kept right up, in fact, she grabbed some of the frozen fish as she was dragged behind. This she began to eat, for she had not gorged in a long, long time. Finally, the man reached his snowhouse and dove right into the tunnel and on hands and knees scrabbled his way into the interior. Panting and sobbing he lay there in the dark, his heart a drum, a mighty drum. Safe at last, oh so safe, yes, safe thank the Gods, Raven, yes, thank Raven, yes, and all bountiful Sedna, safe... at...last.

Imagine when he lit his whale oil lamp, there she - it - lay in a tumble upon his snow floor, one heel over her shoulder, one knee inside her rib cage, one foot over her elbow. He could not say later what it was, perhaps the firelight softened her features, or the fact that he was a lonely man... but a feeling of some kindness came into his breathing, and slowly he reached out his grimy hands and using words softly like a mother to child, began to untangle her from the fishing line.

"Oh, na, na, na." First he untangled the toes, then the ankles. "Oh, na, na, na." On and on he worked into the night, until dressing her in furs to keep her warm, Skeleton Woman's bones were all in the order a human's should be.

He felt into his leather cuffs for his flint and used some of his hair to light a little more fire. He gazed at her from time to time as he oiled the precious wood of his fishing stick and rewound the gut line. And she in the furs uttered not a word - she did not dare - lest this hunter take her out and throw her down to the rocks and break her bones to pieces utterly.

The man became drowsy, slid under his sleeping skins, and soon was dreaming. And sometimes as humans sleep, you know, a tear escapes from the dreamer's eye; we never know what sort of dream causes this, but we know it is either a dream of sadness or longing. And this is what happened to the man.

Skeleton Woman saw the tear glisten in the firelight and she became suddenly soooo thirsty. She tinkled and clanked and crawled over to the sleeping man and put her mouth to his tear. The single tear was like a river and she drank and drank and drank until her many-years-long thirst was slaked.

While lying beside him, she reached inside the sleeping man and took out his heart, the mighty drum. She sat up and banged on both sides of it: Bom Bomm!.....Bom Bomm!

As she drummed, she began to sing out "Flesh, flesh, flesh! Flesh, Flesh, Flesh!" And the more she sang, the more her body filled out with flesh. She sang for hair and good eyes and nice fat hands. She sang the divide between her legs, and breasts long enough to wrap for warmth, and all the things a woman needs.

And when she was all done, she also sang the sleeping man's clothes off and crept into his bed with him, skin against skin. She returned the great drum, his heart, to his body, and that is how they awakened, wrapped one around the other, tangled from their night, in another way now, a good and lasting way.

The people who cannot remember how she came to her first ill fortune say she and the fisherman went away and were consistently well fed by the creatures she had known in her life under water. The people say that it is true and that is all they know.

* * *

An empty shell, awaiting love's fulfillment

Monday, March 14, 2011

Over

I've been thinking so much lately. Thinking about everything that has happened and I can help but feel that I would do things a million different ways if I had the chance.

I guess all I have to offer now is, "I'm sorry"

It sounds so silly. Like some little girl's words. But now that I've said them. And probably mean them more than I ever have before, I think its time to cut myself loose of the situation.

I'm giving all of it to you. Putting myself in your hands and if its meant to be, it'll be. But I just can't wait around anymore.

Maybe its time I delete all traces of you. There's no good in holding onto memories when I'm the only one left holding on.


So here's to making new memories, because the old ones have surely forgotten me.