Skip navigation

Tag Archives: africa



my facebook account was hacked and all i got was this shitty flat

What a wicked wicked week of bad spells and uptight rushes of ill luck, i’ve been interested in codeine extraction for a couple of months trying various means of dissolving it from mostly paracetemol or asprin. Its a strange buzz that keeps you awake and sleep walking bestif you can’t get anything better, totally functional but left. Tourniquets are my Daphne in spite and calamity, three times my teeth have fallen ou tand twice i remedied the situation, alas today the little bugger is nowhere to find and i am rushin around like a pike, listening to loud music, no internet connection, shooting on upwards and forgetting the point and the film erupted in my head about an hour ago, i got the link i needed like a 1960’s tableau, frame, the girl in the car the girl that wants to be a star

my right arm is fuckin killing me, absent and lame yet still the inner gets hardened and harder to break, pointing weapons of mass destruction at my body like some extremist,i’m a soldier packin

what worse after coming out of a hospice shop 900 rands poorer without spending a cent, the philospophical approach is that someone needed it more than me, what bull, i need my passage and i need it funded. The shoot secret is about to come out and i’m stuck with a pink mixture in the fridge,no more weed, a looming music column, lost pearlies,no connection to the outside world, a stolen diary, 5 less friends on the run and sick need to commisserate. Come my friends and countrymen lets dance the last dance of the night, creep from the dawn and make pretend everythings all right

there is snothing i fear more than water especially water under the bridge, it comes from a place where old animosities and senses that wrong from right curdle and grow with incessant force in order to pacify those whose extreme moments are seen as extraction and jolly nevermind the small detail that we are in the grip of a war. I choose sides as i choose my drinks and visitors from afar eithe exhalt or humiliate me into a fever i know no respite from cept for angry moods, irritational opposition and the small malady of sitting with whiskeyed tea praising the mediocre. Give me something or someone in this world who can ally themselves with me completely. Religeon, profit profiteering politics my left hand have all become hindrances where they should be leftists. For gods fuckin sake, we no longer think. Have you my readers ever felt that you are alone in your thoughts for me i am screaming. And those classics i love and those writers and retainers and those years that pour from the pages when you read the foreword or biographies only make sense when you;re living it and it s not fun and its not only the longely and its not comforting but a reminder that njo matter the generation we are aligned and maybe someday somewhere we will be abject from these defintions divided thankfully and ultimately fuck it i don’t know what to say anymore. I m disgusted and i;m rewarded by all this is ours right now. Who the fuck knows what were on about. This civilisation is dead and gladly i or we to gallows go.  Enough enough, my fucked right hand and my fucked left  brain walks gladly an dsadly into this night

hare hare krishna krishna

hare hare krishna krishna

Oh how wondrously irresponsible we are. We traipse through the lounge ignoring the boy, forgetting the date, dusting at whim and browning with vim. I love it here in my little boho palace of misconduct, even the sweaty nights and gloom interludes cannot spoil. The buzz of the little dream that has manifested inside this hat, this heart, god its good to be back in the city. Be back in my spell, whilst the construction trucks and the taxis and the mad dealers and the even madder friends stop over and beckon my reckless nature with their sweet sweet scent of innocence, no mind how short the poison the present is always worth it. And who dare says that i am wrong. For i make my choices out of free will and the wind she bloweth and my longing closes, krishna rings and scarves still wet from the broken machine and a maid and a cat and a dog with herpes, and a robot and a trainer thats gnawed and a kitchen cupboard full of medicine and an ivory box filled with delights and a car and a bus and feeling of trust and the teepee in the garden was put up by me and the irreverent singing from the bedroom is some poor lost boy who found his way here last night but me and my friend we start drinking irish coffees early in th emorn and finish up late late into the night, passed out in the thrill of the catch and as long as the cash lasts i’ll be here in th e morrow


good must ultimately prevail evil

good must ultimately prevail evil



Standing on the precipice and looking over the green, the night is ablaze with singing, chirping, rotten scoundrels. Breathing in the clear dust, the soft feeling of being a part of something smaller, something more complex and unintended gets my gut. I squirm in this strange globe beating my will against its dripping confines, old pictures are revealed in the sliding merge of colours, feelings drip into snares drip into melancholy drip into what was and what is and the possibility of escaping fate becomes deceived by the simple fact that we can. There is goodness in us. There is peace, breath, vision and patience. But there are also shadows. There are hateful mages, noise, pesticides and aversion. Is it possible to be one in the same. Is it possible to be both teams of the same game.