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Monthly Archives: June 2009




Give me hope and soul I ask you. I knocked down a stand of Smirnoff vodka last night at Lloyds store. 20 bottles came crashing down, 20 bottles of booze. I ignored it and took a verbal beating. I’m worried about the elephant. I’m worried he’s on his last thread. He screamed at me and threatened to leave when I told him his project was whack. They don’t’ pay artists no more. They just don’t pay. All work for free please bring back communism this democracy is getting me down. But how can I run away from what I have seen. How can I leave what I could fix. Why don’t I answer Anthony. Why don’t I wash away the drying soap, make this bin clean. Start up start afresh, dont unto others and such. I visited busiwiwe last night, smelling of cheap whiskey, counting the chickens plying her with clothes, text books and hugs. I ran with the wildebeest, staking the fence, warning them with a finger ‘I’m going this way’

But I didn’t

i need more bruises more tattoos more discipline. I have a new film project at my disposal – all it takes is will – all it takes is the written word if I can find it

I can make a difference. I can change, I can find the drive if I wanted to. The sun is setting the sun is swollen, the clouds are there and unspoken for. I look for seed, I look for feed

And how many interviews can one girl do, how many films can one man make. How much will count in the end. Hasn’t it all been done before, hasn’t it all been thrown against the wall. Why go forward when the room is heated, the stars are shining and the blood is thinned by the unconiving.

I wake up disturbed as ever in the middle of the morning, grasping desperately at memories, bad bad thoughts, bad bad hangover

Bad bad girl with a decision, a skull and no lover

you should be in my space you should be in my life






            Can’t stop the fever can I rolling around the aids issue, wiping blood off tigers face at the south beach shelter, holding her hand, rolling my eyes, tryin to help the kid that survived the attack by the older boy who slapped his face because he thought he stole his t-shirt. We roamed around shongweni dam township trying to find gifts house. We roamed south beach and the killarney – me paying off drug dealers and role players for the break to film the sordidness, I walked the path off the grass, I got the packet with the habit and filmed the sun. I was thinking about all this, all this junk that I gotta intellectualise and come up with a plan come up with a plan to save the man’s plan. All I can think of is that this is the way it is. I see all the unbelievers. I see the haters, I see the wastage. Ngo’s my ass, too little funding too much. Too little discipline are we really supposed to care, am I going to be part of this, can I. turn the system upside its head. With a box of gimmicks, toys my boys, toys. You gonna believe me. Idon’t. I think it’s the way it is the way its meant to be. Isn’t it. I’m treading the bleached concrete crunk of the city centre. I’m looking up at the ceiling and jan’s waiting for me outside the muslim shop. She waits, I wait. We’re all waiting. Waiting for aid. Waiting for aids waiting for god and opportunity. Who wants to l ive forever wanna trade. I’ve lost all sense of remorse, responsibility and discretion. Yeah Karen smack this bitch up I can’t focus I cant’ humanize the doctrine .its hackneyed aint it? Aint it? How can you conceive of an idea if you cease. To feel . to feel the cease of the piece of my heart. Give me drugs I’ll give you feeling, life, lice and latitude. Out



Fuck the police

Fuck the ngos

Fuck this stupid hamster wheel

Reincarnation is the only key that seals the deal