A bit of throwing my toys out of the cot.

Warning: This blog post may offend sensitive readers.

When you are about to fist fuck the shit out of unsuspecting people, some things to consider. Make sure they cant see you, make sure they are properly surprised and make sure you know how to get out before they realise you are the cause of their rectal bleeding.

Its time for a little payback. Because A) I’m petty, B) I dont like getting fisted without at least being romanced. What kind of a boy do some people think I am. Unfortunately though it does make me a little pirate-ish. Not in the ARRGGGHHH Shive me timbers way but more in plunder and kill sort of way.

I just need to get my head around shit really. Because I feel angry at the moment. Too angry. I feel fucking taken advantage of and I feel fucked around. I feel like I have wasted trust and I feel like throwing down. Like seriously elbows and knees swinging and kicking.

As for feelings and women, sometimes we leave ourselves open and although things happen unexpected, you can’t live with regret. Love is magnificent and one thing rang in my head since this weekend, love as though its your first time. And I wondered, is it possible? And I tried it and although it didnt go according to plan I feel like a weight has been lifted. You have to make that first step, if only so that one person can acknowledge the elephant in the room.

Sometimes it might all break down in champagne and strawberries or it could be flat as water. Question is, are you prepared for the hangover afterward?

T.O.H.

Final Words

Sometimes words capture everything you wanted to say. Sometimes the words come out all wrong and what you wanted to say sounds like a car accident on a wet road behind a donkey cart. Words are still the best way to reach someone, to make them see, understand and know, how you feel, understand and know them. We dont take the time to appreciate those people whom we take for granted. Before we know it they become a part of what we expect, to see, hear, react, contribute. Sometimes actions only amount to you being put in the I see you as brother box.

We can never estimate the real value of the people we have until they leave and there is a huge gap where there was just your expectation of every day and every second that they would be there. The gap is the value of them and the difference they made to you and your being.

Its not me being overly emotional but rather the words over spill so that the person knows that everyday they are appreciated for just being around than never saying a thing. And when they leave, they will be missed.

T.O.H

Reciprocity to replenish

I feel fucking drained. I feel drained because I been putting myself out there, trying subtly to be noticed without having to adopt more vulgar mechanisms. But I live in a culture of take. That has been it. Its weird how the words swim in your head and all it is, really, is sea of ants, all clones of each other,indistinguishable and it took a few words from one of my own living lit heroes for me to make sense out of those ants.

I like doing things for people, and I like to believe that I can be there for everyone, attempt to make everyone feel happy or at the very least, unsad. I want to make everyone around me less stressed and as I mentioned to someone who is slowly losing my last strand of respect for, I dont need a cookie or a hug to fucking any acknowledgement. But I am only a mortal. And I need some reciprocity. I need someone sometimes to make the effort to make me unsad. I need someone to one day take some of the slack and help me pull. Or think about the big picture, or to worry about other people. Even now I dont feel I am adequately expressing myself. But in order to be able to give as much as I can give I need receive every now and then. Or at the very least I need someone to acknowledge that what I do is noticed.

But it is the way of most people to take and take and take and take. and they feel justified in their taking and the harder you try not to notice the more it weighs down on your shoulders until, you withdraw and give enough not to be declared clinically dead. So you do the bare minimum at you going nowhere dead end waste of oxygen job, I mean what the fuck for, its never noticed and because fuck it, you’re only an employee and it becomes only a job. And the same goes for people, mopping up, saying the right things and for what? That’s the bottomline after all.

We all want to know that what we do makes a difference to someone. I dont care how fucking hardcore you are, even psychos want to be thought of in that special way. But its just the way some people are. They will take and you will give and the more you give the more they think its their right. And the more you do the more you become devalued.

I have had some time to think and yeah I have had to make some hard and fast decisions. Because I want to carry on being me without wondering if what I’m doing wont be seen in the same light as I do. or if some moron will think that my willingness to be accomodating is a reason to exploit or take advantage. There is so much I want to say but in the vein of getting used to expressing myself away from my blog, I will stop here.

T.O.H

*The Rambling is over. I promise.

I think I am having mini midlife crisis

To be honest there are some days when people and the sun and the wind and every fucking thing is just perfect, you’re happily distracted by beautiful distractions and the only fucking problem is that it lasts too little time.

I hate those moments when you just want to pause time and enjoy the moment. To take it all in and see if you left something out so you can go back and pick up all over again. Few things make my heart pound uncontrollably or make me stop and gasp and reach for my inhaler:) And then like those dreams about people you will never see again you realise it wont last. How bleeding depressing.

The good Lord sends signs but I dont know if I am getting any of them right. Because I try to be logical and organised because I have never tried the organised approach to life. But I am flying blind and I want to ask for directions but I have never done that before. I am just tired of crashing.

I am 30 years old and having somewhat of a midlife crisis. I own a car that I had to give away because I was an idiot. I am in a job I am beginning to like in the same way most men enjoy going to a prostate check up every year. I have a people in my life I wish I could remove because I sometimes wonder, what the fuck are you doing here. I am scared that in some instances I will hurt people I care about and in others I will be the proverbial doormat. I worry about not being enough for those I care about and not being able to shield people and I worry about not being able to slap someone straight when I need to.

All of a sudden the world is small. I dont like what I have collected and I dont like where I am. I dont like how I am perceived by some people and I dont like not being taken seriously when I need it. I dont like being the guy to ask for help but thats all I amount to or the shoulder to cry on for every Tom, Dick and Mary, I am not the world’s problem solver.

I am just pissed off really. And its everyone and no one and I need to get out of this place and do whatever it is I feel like doing instead of being miserable at doing what I have to do. Have to is not a phrase that fits me well. I am not a have to person and pushed far enough I can drop everything and start again.

Maybe I need to get rid of those things and people cluttering my thoughts and mind and just start it all a new.

Hi, my name is…

But can we start anything a new again?

T.O.H.

The Triple P project

Like all Finales, this is in two parts and is probably not what we expected. I saw we because at the beginning this was something that only Saaleha chatted about and then it was born. Sorry Mr. Saaleha, but if I was the father of this project, your Mrs was the mother.

On a serious note though I never expected the response from as far a field as I did and really it was just about testing what we perceive and what we are made of. And its slightly unnerving to find yourself writing to someone that you dont really know that well other than from cyberspace and for some of you this may have been weirder since I paired you with someone you have never read, or heard of, even on cyber space, and thank you for participating.

The Summary

We had some pullouts early on and after the start gun. And I expected as much. Because its easy to post a blog and then lament the fact that we are missing out on a time long since dead due to the ill effects of technology. I guess we have all seen those posts and we have all commented. I mean try count the number of comments about people who used to love writing letters and getting them. Where ever you kick over a rock is some romantic reformed letter writer. Or is there?

And so it was with a little excitement and my own prejudices I initiated this project, to see what response would be like and to see what the feelings out there would and really just to see what happened.

People whom I never expected to take part:

Killa

Sorry mate, didnt see you taking part. But to killa’s credit for all the shit on his blog I sometimes disagree with, I was impressed with the fact that he wrote and sent his letter to his lucky recipient. Proving something that I think we have all found out or will find out in the days to come, we are not the people on our blogs. Pairing people up was a problem, and although I am sure the Lady Nafisa might disagree, the draw was random.

I had two people to write to. I was the Sepp Blatter of the Project, I never intended on actually writing but rather adopting the position of shit stirrer/mischief maker. But with last minute pull outs and jackass cold feet I found myself in the middle. Also we had a few late entrants into the game. Lucky me I ended up with every blog boy’s Farra Fawcett (you know the Charlie’s Angels Poster), Saaleha and The Queen of Chocolate and its slaves, the lovely Prixie.

Saaleha sent me letter with pictures. Of fairies and Spongebob, one of which now occupies a position on my Laptop.  I guess it was easier for us to write to each other since we have been blog buddies since september 2005 when I thought she was actually a guy with the pic of a hot chic that was too hot to be a “real” chick. Ok so sometimes I am wrong and I am man enough to admit it. I met sally about 2 years ago? or was it 3? not sure but I knew sally and well it was easy to write like me. kak handwriting and all. The first batch of paper I had was Ktv Market day letterheads. What can I say, its been a while since I had written to someone and had hung up the pen and pad. But I will let the pics speak for themselves.

Prixie’s letter arrived today or it was retrieved from our post office box today. And from the envelope I knew it was a letter from Priya. it was short but I knew from the content what Priya meant. Because the truth is that as much as we had exchanged online, the written words are not the same, there is not spell check, there is no consistent font either. You really dont know how much to share. How much to write and where to begin to be honest.

And the one single consistency is that everyone thinks they have the worst handwriting although I must confess, my handwriting has been known to leave a few people cross eyed. o_0

Thank you to my super subs. Thank you to the guys for showing up. I think letter writing is a lost art form, its a throwback to a romantic period when men were men and women were women instead of impatient pratts who lived and died by the refresh button. I think you can tell alot about a person by their writing, or the mere fact that they took the time to express themselves to a complete stranger through written or if you are dew, written and typed words. Thank your Azra and Fathima and Aadila for the link love and the letter writing support, thank you my hero Sally for the idea and widget. And thank you to all of you for taking part in this. i hope for some of you, you have made a new friend or at least will carry on writing letters. because although the idea of writing a letter is romantic, and it is, shoot the first person who says its not, you dont have to romance someone to write them a letter, and it brings a little joy to get something in the mail. and ladies, if you like a guy and want to test him, see if he sends you a letter, if he sends you one, know, you have something special.

Tomorrow I will post the pics I received. part two, all in pictures.

T.O.H.

On an average day

On an average day I think about committing violent acts to deserving folk as much as I used think about boobs when I was 12. If I had thought about committing random acts of violence to well deserving people as much as I had thought about boobs when I was 12, I might have passed maths and now been a doctor. I always wanted to be a doctor. Blood didnt really both me. Stomachs do though. People all sorts of nasty shit, makes digging around a sewer pipe seems pleasant.

Some things are just funny. You cant help but laugh although it would seem wholly inappropriate at the time. Like at funerals when you hope the person giving the Eulogy would just be a little honest and say, here lies a douche canoe, hope he doesnt take a jacket where he is going.

See because although the world is full of honourable people, there are probably twice as many douchebags committing acts of douchebaggery living a remorseless life of douchesity. That is simply intolerable. And I think the wheel does turn but it helps to throw a little grease in the appropriate place from time to time. As I am fond of doing. I dont always believe in turning the other cheek or bros before hos or whatever because what if the she isnt a ho or the bro is just a giant douche who doesnt really know his elbow from his arsehole? why step out of the way for someone who doesnt know how to appreciate someone good.

Who made the rules anyway? What rules? because while you’re saying its not on and I wouldnt, the chances are there is an idiot somewhere measuring your back for optimum blade insertion or who will just go waste a good chance.

The world works out the way the world is meant to work out. We all get what and who we deserve. Like attracts like as someone said this week and you dont have to be a rocket scientist to know that.

In a perfect world I could earn a living teaching manners. You know, please, thank you, I’m sorry and alternative ways of being noticed other than being a two faced immature back stabbing swine. I smile because as I like to remind myself, the rug can be pulled out from your feet at any time and my hands will be there lending support.

Enjoy it while it lasts.

T.O.H.

Obligations

As I shut down this blog, probably, possibly, I think this is the one thing I would like to end off with, well before the Triple P project wrap up.

Marriage and divorce and the laws of obligations. I am astounded by the lack of common sense that most couples have when getting married. Firstly accept that where, money and property is involved there will be a need for some legal groundwork to be in place. Failure to do so will result in you being at the mercy of the law should your Marriage be dissolved either through death or divorce. For all new couples getting married, and here I am singling out Muslim couples, there are certain things you need to know and appreciate before wondering if the akni has enough salt and whether the grooms mother is going to be an old bat. The first thing a couple should understand, is that getting married places certain legal obligations on both parties. These obligations are largely determined Matrimonial Property Regime in place at the date of marriage. This simply means the contract of marriage and the rules in place governing property ownership, debts and division of property should a marriage be dissolved.

Currently in South Africa, a marriage without any marriage contract signed and registered in the Deeds Registry is considered to be a Marriage In Community of Property. So assuming that you get married, have your marriage registered in terms of the Marriages Act, your marriage will be in Community of Property meaning that both parties to a marriage will be jointly and severally liable for all debts incurred by each other and will also have joint ownership of all assets owned by both parties. This includes all debts and assets before the date of marriage. This system is largely outdated as women have jobs own their own assets and are able to contract on their own without the permission of their husbands and fathers as was the case pre-1984.

Another system which is considered slightly outdated and unfair is a Marriage out of Community of Property. In terms of this system, the basic rules are that what is yours is yours and what is mine is mine. Both parties agree through a formal contract, registered in the Deeds Registry that neither party shall be responsible for the other’s debts, incurred either before or during the marriage. This is important in terms of the dissolution of the marriage where disputes may arise when it comes to claiming assets and the settlement of any debts and obligations. Islamically, as I understand it, all marriages are out of community of property. Which is good in that it recognises that men and women should be responsible for their own assets and obligations without placing unfair restrictions on the other by virtue of marriage, it does fall short in some situations. Which is remedied to some extent by The Marriage out of Community of Property with Accrual.

This system is a fine balance between the two systems mentioned above and is more equitable in terms of property division in the event of dissolution. In a nut shell both parties must agree to to this system in writing and sign the contract before the date of marriage. The contract is registered in the Deeds Registry. All assets and obligations prior to the date of marriage is excluded from the Joint Matrimonial Property Regime which comes into effect from the date of marriage. Further both parties can choose to exclude certain assets which might occur after the date of marriage. So for example the prospect of inheritance may be excluded from the joint property regime, dividends which are paid to shareholders after the date of marriage. The benefit in this system is that where one partner is the money earner and the other is the home maker/care giver / child minder, the assets accrued over the duration of the marriage are jointly owned. So too are any debts and obligations incurred after the date of marriage. Usually when a marriage under this system is dissolved, assets, minus exclusions minus liabilities divided by 2 equals what each partner walks away with.

I would strongly suggest that all people ready to get married consult a legal advisor prior to your date of marriage. Especially amongst Muslim couples where the film of “doing the right thing” religion is sometimes blinds people to the realities. I have seen more than a few divorces where things have become ugly and bitter and where payback wasted more time than was needed. Its probably a cynical mentality to adopt when getting married but unfortunately people dont always feel like doing the “right thing” religion wise when it comes to parting with money in a divorce. All parties should document as far as possible their assets and their contributions to a marriage. Chances are that you will probably not need it. And for the love of all things precious, get your marriage registered legally. Make the time and effort to make sure that you have the legal rights of a married partner.

Although there has been some recognition of cultural and customary marriages, I ask the question now, how many people can afford long drawn out battles and attorney’s fees and the potential of court action? Avoid all of that and rather take precautions and be prepared. If things do end, the transition will be as smooth as these things can be.

Off course if there are children involved, the matter becomes a little more complex. My best advice would be to have custody agreements, visitation agreements and maintenance agreements formalised and in place as soon as possible. Do not adopt the approach of there is no need for this because it really does leave everything in the air and therefore prolongs the stress of the transition. In situations where the divorce has been less than amicable but contact has to be maintained as a result of children, I would strongly suggest finding a neutral person, strong of character to as the contact point. Until such point that feelings are under control and both parents can communicate with each other without stressing out the kids.

But that is for another blog post. If you are planning on getting married, prepare for it. See a Mufti for religious standpoints and see a lawyer for the legal stance and do not be afraid of enforcing your rights. Look at things now and in the long term.

T.O.H.

Woohaa I got the gasoline – Busta Rhymes and Audioslave

If there is one thing my brothers and I share is the stubborn streak where we dont speak more than we have. I remember my brother standing his ground not so long ago and although I tried to be peacemaker, considering the situation we were in, all he said was, I said what I needed to, there is nothing to compromise on, it happens today or it doesnt happen at all.

I could barely fault him. Maybe it was our childhood growing with three pairs of shoes each, going out shoes, school shoes and after school shoes. That was it. We were proud people, too proud to grovel and concede to petty whims. My brother in particular is one of those people who is more determined than any of us, reasonable but unrelenting when he makes up his mind.

I have thought to myself that sometimes grovelling is a humbling effort, that there are instances when it was ok to knee pride in the groin and be pathetic.

And there have been times when reasonable is an ugly word which should never be mentioned in polite company. I have often said, much to someone else’s dismay, that I was quite clear on what I wanted, and you need to clean the wax out of your ears next time. So I am not the most diplomatic at times but once I get pushed I dont turn the other cheek like a born again Muslim. I push back and I throw the kitchen sink at you. I dont like feeling like I have to beg or that if you do something for me that I owe you. I am too proud to ask for help or share the burden. What would be the point of broad shoulders hey? Which explains why I get turned off by people quite easily. Its not the big things, its the small things. The silly games, the taking for granted of my nice face. And then I write you off like a bad debt. Couldn’t really care because I wont beg or plead with someone to be a part of my life or play their part. I ask, and if you dont give me what I want because you want to prolong some effing power game, well you can seriously take a flying fucking leap. Because although I can be nice, I dont feel I have to be if I dont want to be. I can shut people out. I can find a way around and I will not ask more than I have to. Its either yes or no. not yes and then I forgot. And you’re are either a willing participant or you’re not, none of this non-committal bullshit which is neither here nor there because you dont want to be known as the bad person for saying know. There are consequences for everything and we have to accept our roles in those events. We cant play middle ground and hope that the shit doesnt touch us because we act spineless and selfish.

Maybe I am a control freak and hate someone putting the leash on.

This week will be interesting. Very interesting.

T.O.H.

And my God changed everything

There has always been God. Allah. Whatever you choose to call Him. The Creator. The Big Boss. Big Guy. Anthropologically people have always been drawn to God without the need for prophets or conjecture or opinion from halfwitted parrots claiming the mantle of being learned.

I do not criticise all men of the cloth so to speak but I must admit more than a fair smattering are of the retarded ilk with delusions of grandeur. Little condom escapees now with a voice and the internet spreading ignorance . And questioning things is seen as a sin, a cardinal sin at that. And I ask why? why is it so hard for people to just accept that their oumas and oupas got the whole fucking thing wrong, that was a beautiful religion has become tainted with small mindedness, fear and cultural prejudice which most times borders on racist. I mentioned that countless times. But from the email Harriet was kind enough to send me it looks like truth is not enough, that manipulation and guilt are the ammunition in this “cold” war.

Most men dont care. You go or you dont go. My brother is maybe slightly more rigid, basically if only there is facilities. I think we as men need to create facilities and we need encourage women to pray in jamaat form. Not because I want to create some sin in my attempt to burn the world down. But we recognise that women are the teachers in our religion, future generations depend will come to rely increasingly on the values instilled in them by their mothers and with the lifestyles we live now, I think it is a noble gesture to encourage women, give them the choice and indirectly create an investment in our future generation.

But off course the issue of women praying in the Masjid is only symptomatic of the systematic level of control which exists in spite of the provisions within Islam twisting the ideals of God worship to serve the values of a perverse culture. And before Islam I have no problem calling those practices perverse. But it will continue, out of ignorance, fear and perverse committment to what is wrong and not within the religion or within the interests of the religion.

Resorting to scare tactics and shameless photoshopping indicates a level of thinking in need of help and scared of the fact that the masses cannot and will not be subjugated any more. We are enlightened and trust our Creator that what we do is for the pleasure of and nothing else. Stop blaming the Christians and the Jews and the Hindus and the Mormons and the JWs. We have to take responsibility for messing things up.

T.O.H.

Lightning crashes

You know your luck is looking up when you accidently stand on your headphones and nothing happens to it. I came across a quote which I think describes me. Its by former Vodacom CEO Alan Knott-Craig.

“Life is not about waiting for storms to pass; its about learning to dance in the rain.”

I need to get beyond obstacles quickly else I lose the plot. If I say I want change I want change yesterday so we can spend more time thinking forward than thinking if we need to move forward. Like Mike Tyson in a ring, if you want to beat him, make sure you survive the first round, beyond that, the playing fields become level. I need to move fast. I need to get pass the humps without spending too much time contemplating the what ifs. Which I just realised makes me sound wreckless. But honestly who enjoys not being happy, not necessarily unhappy but just not being awesome.

T.O.H.

The Triple P project: Feedback deadline

Two days remain for the Triple P project and well feedback has been rather shitty. So please, for the love of all things good and pure, lets see you sending in that feedback.

The prize is still up for grabs to the person who sends in the best whatever, description of their letter, how you choose to describe the letter is up to you.

I know I haven’t been in that much of a great mood of late. But Sunshine appears once again. Its all about feeling in control and the slightest glimmer of hope restores control, even if its only momentarily. I have been bone claw effing angry lately. Some people just annoy the crap out of you and in between waking up in the middle of night to realise that you beating their empty skulls in with a brick was only a dream, there has been little joy in dealing with some people. Its breeding, some people are bred to believe that they are special, snowflake extraordinaire. They need to feel like the warm centre of the universe, even if that means fuelling it with with good people that didnt ask to be included. We have to prove points, make grand stands and generally act the damn fool. Why? Because today you woke up and probably felt that no matter the price you would be made to feel special. That fucking annoys me.

We take things and people for granted, we assume that someone’s help is merely there because we are entitled to it. I like the fact that reciprocity exists, although I wish it was actually practiced. But no, people are nice and good to me because I am deserving of it. Stop watching The Secret. Idiots.

Because it works both ways. One day you wake up and the rug’s been pulled from your feet and you’re on your arse with that what’s going on here look on your stupid face. And its because the opportunity to make things different, to show that did notice things was there but you took it for granted.

This was supposed to be a post about the Triple P project and early 90’s music. Instead I just spilled in here. My throat closes up with irritation when I consider how moronic and poorly bred some people are.

So if you have made it this far, please remember the triple P project will end on Wednesday and to send in those photos and images and whatever else you think is appropriate. The OH is open to all sorts of tomfoolery and skullduggery.

Be sure to keep an eye out for the feedback post.

Looking forward to all of your comments.

T.O.H.

well I swear I dont have a gun.

In the normal world I believe that fair is fair and that you owe what you owe. that value is not words but actions. that words auxilliary to your actions. But there is one thing I hate with almost drop of blood in my rotund body, insincerity. Insincere is like the big rubber dong of personalities looking to fuck everything and anything just because. And today I am particularly pissed off with some people. maybe today was that limit or quota thing when all I wanted to do was lay the floor in sheets of old newspaper, have one symbolic arseclown take a seat and then swing the axe, American Psycho style.

because some idiots dont learn, dont do anything other than pad themselves up. And you can psycho analyse things until the cows come home or Dr. Phil grows a thick head of hair but the truth is they cannot be taught manners, sincerity, honesty and fairness. And there has been a severe lack of that lately. I refrain from using the word reciprocity here. because the nature of some relationships eliminate that value and principle by the limited intellect and social skills of certain cretins. All the fucking manners of having been brought up in a gutter. And then its the placating bullshit smile and and agreement. My imagination runs away with me wondering if I could stuff that body into the boot. Maybe I would have to separate the parts. 5 or 6 pieces? That gets complex.

This is not some dark moment of mine. Just becoming intolerant of bullshit being thrown around these days. Why can’t people be honest, say what they mean and mean what they say? why act so hurt when you get a dose of your own medicine and how do some people find themselves in position they do with their inability to do what is best for all rather than themselves and their fucking egos. With that severe lack of people skills I ponder the possibility of dragging these fucktards into a hole and make them fight each other with hammers. Idi(ot) Amin Style. Winner gets shot.

You know I am not a nasty person in real life. I can tolerate alot. Too much sometimes. But then I reach a point where I become difficult and behave in a way that would make the strongest champion of chaos say, err… that’s just offside. Because although i can accept mistakes and miscommunication I really cant take the devious, two faced, I wont take responsibil my for my shit approach to life. And since I am hardly the praise jebus turn the other cheek kind of person, I will become rather cruel to make my point.

Some say its all because I enjoy getting my way.

And I say with the number of times I have been right about things, people and places, why would anyone be that stupid say no to me?

t.o.h.

Listening to a song on repeat

everyone has done it. Listened to a song on repeat until you knew every sound, every instrument in the background and every inflection of the singer’s voice. The tune haunts your dreams long after you have fallen off to sleep.

And then you stop. You begin to skip that tune on your playlist till you actually get to the point where you remove it.

Music captures a mood, a feeling, a memory of something or someone and I keep the song on repeat to to prolong that feeling, mood and memory until I become saturated. And then its over.

Because we realise that the feelings and moods and memory have limited tangibility. That we can go back to them and relive them. But that time has to move forward and what we have is residue. I have a hard time letting go of the good things and the bad things. I want to hold onto it and just live through it. And that is what music lets me do. It lets me live it. Over and over again.

Sometimes music adopts you. A particular tune will come to represent that feeling, that person, that memory by accident and forever that song will be coloured by that person’s aura or presence or whatever you want to call it.

What a weird week. Sometimes you’re the captain of the ship that is your life, other times you’re just a passenger.

Some songs deserve to listened to on repeat until you can’t listen them anymore.

t.o.h.

I got my song. Finally.

Today after much struggling, cursing that I dont live in the great US of A where music costs 99c per track, I finally got my song.

Or did I have all the time.

Some things cant be forced. Sometimes you reach and touch someone to make them see. As a young but sometimes wise lady said, you need to learn to let them love you. Give them a chance. My feelings are a biryani now. just all mixed up and as much as I want to say all that I am feeling I know, I have to trust that things will work out for the best. And they always do.

So here is a song which you should find on my blog somewhere that I think we should all listen to.

Jesse Glick – Hey now.

The Triple P project is nearing an end. 30th of September people. Thank you some of you who have sent in things. Awesome. Send more. I am still working on the idea. for my own little feedback and the best feedback wins some shit.

Cool

The Organ Harvester

memory: elegantly wasted

The music video below reminds me of an odd time. of crazy parties drinking vodka out of a bathtub, well it wasnt just vodka, it was a combination of 5 kg of sugar, lemon and orange juice to taste. It was chasing two fingers of beer every minute until we had finished 8 cans. It was walking into a circle of girls dancing and kissing her  and her not even pushing you away. it was  tongue touching some overcooked exchange student on a dancefloor to swap a little yellow pill. it was finding your friend in some booth making out with some girl. it was having some woman run her hand up your shirt in a tiny cramped room with sweating walls and the whisper

“lets get out of here.”

It was silly mistakes, lowered glances the morning after, the rush, the excuse the i didnt know. It was headaches and the horrible taste of tequila and vodka mixed with a flashy montage of the night before’s event. It was confident sleep overs and toy fucks. It was massages and bra straps unclipped in fluid motions. It was the glares of the pious and the middle finger. Fuck you. Why does it matter so much you judgmental fuckwits. it was becoming the guy that people went to. the embarrasing reality. the dirty secret that only ever entered from side door when no one was looking.

isn’t it weird how some people feel the need to keepup pretenses, but in the right conditions they will put anything and everything in every orifice.

Elegantly wasted indeed.

I dont think I would change a thing if I could go back.

I used to own a pair of pants like these

But I remember our “elegantly wasted” parties being a little more debaucherous.

Stable relationships mess with the memory.

writing to reach you

asked why we blog or why we write, I think the answer finally makes sense. we write to fill, to make sense of our feelings which most of the time over whelm us and we are forced in the world of civility and good upbringing to find curt answers to questions on how we feel. the honest truth is that I dont know anymore. just when i think i have my head wrapped around people and feelings and how i relate to people someone turns it upside down and i am slack jawed again.

and that is why i write because somewhere in the mash up smash up that is the collection of words out there courtesy of my hands I hope i will be able to make sense of the world. to me. and i share it because having a blog is like showering in a glass room sometimes and you’re my neighbours.

maybe i like the attention or maybe i am hoping someone will read this and say to me, that i can carry on looking but there are no answers out there. that no one has the answers and that confusion is the fuel for great writing and the more confused and heart poundingly stumped you are, the greater your writing will be. one day.

I write because i want to know and what to feel and to understand and express and ask questions and answer them to. I write because I cant scream because my voice, the one i leave locked inside my head would hurt. you. it would smash everything you think you know. thought you knew. about me. about life. and all the distance we put between us.

i just write because some thoughts are safer outside your head than inside.

I want to get onto a plane and disappear and come back with a thick beard and long hair and thick manuscript that will make the hardest heart weep and the shallowest smile broad. I dont like this feeling. its not me. its old me. like when i used to celebrate christmas. when my birthday would precede a christmas present. the past. but why cant i shake it? what am I forcing myself to ignore. Am i just as vulnerable as everyone else? am I just a mortal?

I need to write more on that.

embracing the new

I realised something the other day. I cannot get my life back. Regardless of how hard I try, no matter what I do and where I go, no matter the number of bodies, tears and crushed skulls, I will not get my life back. What I had is gone, what I owned is lost and now instead of doing enough to get by while I wait for what I assumed would be the inevitable, needs to become a new direction.

Its a bitter pill to swallow. Acceptance. Acknowledgement that you dont have the energy to fight anymore or the will to push people by the side because I have a strong case of get my own back. I miss those people and I cant ever get them back. Romantic aspirations aside I am tired of being that guy, that guy, to steal something from a movie, whose a stepping stone to the perfect guy. And I didn’t care because I embraced a frosty mistress.

And I am angry at myself for being careless and for spending so much time fighting for something which has been gone for so long and only now have I realised that what I had and what I wanted is gone. For good. And those that I hold responsible will not bring it back with a thousand of their deaths.

And maybe I didn’t see the good that happened but I wanted it to be my choice. I had so many questions, like why me? What did I do to deserve this? This special attention. Well now I give up. Not in the pathetic resignation sense, I just want to focus my energies elsewhere and as long as I never cross paths with or have any of them in my life in any form I think I can look forward to finding a new life. Or making my temporary life more permanent. I dont need to know the answers. Because the answers wont change anything. It might just make me angry. At myself, at people I loved, at people I trusted and at God.

This last month has found me turning my life around for a little introspection. Reality sits heavily. I am not the man I thought I would be at this age. I am not earning the money I thought I would. I am not with the people I thought I would be with.

When I replay the words from that Ramadaan those years ago, I needed to teach you a lesson and show you where your place is, it doesnt even register on my radar anymore.

The Organ Harvester blog was born of a time when I needed express myself. I have morphed it into what it is now but I have been thinking I am getting tired of this blogging thing. Maybe I have outgrown it.

And then again I looked at these really beautiful eyes and I knew I had been looking at the wrong thing all this time and now I was just lucky to have noticed. I dont want to miss another chance again.

I know this much, I need to move on now and stop putting people at the side in the hope of getting back to them later. I need to make choices. And I think I have made some significant ones.

The Organ Harvester

Islam Vista vs Islam 95 vs Islam XP vs Islam NT vs Islam 7

Who really knows what is going on anymore? I dont and I think I am above average intelligence. And if someone like me has no clue as to what to or what is going on? How do the good people who never question the leaders of our religion, doing things? Beat your women, dont beat your women. Circumcise them, dont circumcise them, leave them at home, dont leave them at home, let them pray at the Mosque, praying at the Mosque is evil.

I am confused.

How about some logical and intelligent consistency here. But that is hard to remain objective and pragmatic. We are as Muslims our worst enemies. We can’t distinguish between our previous hethen ways back in the village. I mean its one religion isnt it? So why are there so many differing opinions on who and what should be allowed. And this is what I think. We are using our cultural prejudice as motivation to find justifications for our cultural prejudices. Besides the race, ethnicity retardedness that goes on, we have this gender/sex battle. Let me go further to say that, politics is part of religion. Not morally, but it has become part of the organic process. Because God’s word is followed by petty, petulant, obtuse human beings. Smelly meatsacks with delusions of grandeur, superiority complexes the size of the universe itself. So men have to do these things because although it says X, Y and Z, modern scholars believe that things have changed and therefore we must change with the times. No arguments here but are we changing to meet the understanding of the average human being or are we changing for the sake of change? To be sexy. Mtv: religion?

And it is a battle of extremes and the essence of our religion is forgotten. First the men insist that their way is the right way, even if it is inconsistent with fact. Speculation and conjecture qualify as grounds to implement absurd, culturally biased doctrine. And dogmatic followers or maybe people who just like having the attention post it on their blog with regular Facebook updates on how great the debate is going. Hint: Debate is not being vague and asking if you catch my drift. Just a word to the wise.

And then you get the uber feminist who finds all the doctrine and speculative material on the rights of the women. Good on you sister. But you cant change Islam because you heard about the Equality clause in the Constitution of the RSA. Islam is what it is and that is the way it has to stay else what do we have? Islam gives rights to both sexes but not in the western cultural paradigm you might be accustomed to. So point out the rights of women, base it on fact, but dont forget that there is correlating set of obligations which apply to women.

But everyone has a Moulana or a Mufti or some academic argument for why this is allowed and why this is not allowed. Can we be perfectly honest? Islam cannot be bent around you and your ideals based on modernism which are at best fleeting moments in history and will in all likelihood change as soon as Oprah says so or if there is a revolution. You bend around Islam.

Manipulating the religion because that is the way its always been practiced by people in your community is not a justification. Why is it such a problem that women be allowed to go to the Masjid in areas outside of the Cape? Why is it that we are content as men to allow women to stand in shops, our daughters to universities, our wives to shopping and yet, the worship of God needs to be argued and lamented. Why is Islam so dynamic when it comes to whether or not you can listen to music or perform in front of a mixed crowd or use your blog to become popular, but the act of worshiping God in God’s house such a cause for concern?

Its because men and to an extent women have absorbed their cultural prejudice as substitute for the facts of the religion. We justify it without knowing the facts. Because we have sidelined the core of the religion, worship in favour of cultural dogma. Erroneous practices which have no time or space in our Muslim lives. Or I am blowing smoke?

We let our women go to Universitis, read books and drive cars and yet we demand to still think for them. We split the community on ever which way we can find. And this is my opinion but there are worse things in the world than allowing a woman to come to the Masjid. The conditions have been clearly laid out. And it is about high time that we emphasize teaching more men to start respecting women as our Prophet (PBUH) did. We spend too much time on the wrong things and forget why we are here. The result is that we turn people away because we dont want them doing what they are supposed to do, worship. People want to and and we should encouraging them instead of looking for reasons to dispute. If Islam is being threatened by external forces like sex, alcohol and the western lifestyle, we are as men becoming a threat to our religion. Women are the foundation of this religion, as mothers we expect children to be taught by their mothers, but what are we as men teaching future generations? That we couldnt distinguish between our outdated cultural practices and our religion? How did we get so far of the reservation?

Everyone should live in the Cape. We worry about other things.

The Organ Harvester

Vote Shubnum for the Citizen Book Prize

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