I can relate to this...

multiblogging

Been meaning to write some blogs.  Wanted to write about my last few hikes, one up and down Table Mountain in record time, for me at least, another one at the said most dangerous hike in Cape Town, between Llandudno and Hout Bay, via the coast.  Wanted to describe the exhilaration of adrenaline-pumping hiking terrain, narrow tunnels, scary cliffs and the joys of rope burns on your delicate palms and wanted to ponder about the effects of the mental exhaustion versus the physical challenge that left me intellectually incapacitated for the better part of a learning curve work week. 

The unbearable lightness of being

The truth is that I’m actually quite a good sleeper.  A pleasant sleeper really.  Usually I just lie there quietly on my bed, not being a nuisance to anyone;  minding my own rest.  I’m the kind that will go back to sleep rather easily after being woken by something/someone.  I don’t get upset with the amplified bellowing of strangers on my street, coming home from Rafiki’s.  I’m a peaceful sleeper.  Sleep and let sleep, that sort of thing.

Without

The thing is, money doesn’t really matter.  It comes and it goes.  Well for most of us it’s like that.  Sometimes you have some, sometimes you’re without.  The thing is to not be emotional about it.  Maybe you’re without for a bit, but that’s not so bad.  It’s ok if you’re a little broke.  I think it’s ok. Right? 

a story for bored people at work or people who are just bored in general

Once there was a little girl.  The little girl lived inside an older girl.  The little girl enjoyed adventure but the older girl had an office job, so the little girl didn’t see much adventure.  The little girl would often look outside the office window and dream about a yacht race or a sky-diving adventure.  The older girl would just sit and do typing and filing.

Breakfast @ 10

So I’ve been slaving away submissively alongside many, many others, to the dullness of the nine-to-five humdrum for the last decade or so, fantasising about the things we office rats consider unspeakable and unmentionable. Late mornings; the absence of an alarm tone; breakfast in bed; the 11am show at the cinema; the hot chocolate, good novel, warm duvet, rain, hail and thunderstorms scenario; grocery shopping at 4pm... – true happiness, the stuff that dreams are made of, thoughts too lofty to attain, exalted far above our office-indoctrinated mindsets. The extent of our joy is limited to the victory of a

The last bus ride

(Makes me think of the day... the music died... and we were singing...)

This blog is written for my enemies. Yes, to my enemies and to others who like to laugh at my misfortunes. Which seems to be a suspiciously frequent visitor these days.

Go on. Have a laugh. It’s on me. Again.

[Sigh.]

An unscheduled meeting with earth

Flabbergasted. That is what I am when I think about how amazing God made our feet. Have you noticed recently, or ever, how hard the earth is? Not everywhere, but mostly. Very hard. And our feet don’t really mind. Small in comparison to the rest of our bodies and somehow carries all that concentrated weight while obligingly treading on this hard surface. Seemingly undeterred.

read

Yesterday I joined the library. What a novel idea (pardon the pun). It seems that I have yet a lot to learn in this world. I mean, here I am, wanting to write, trying to think of ways to develop the skill, wondering if I’ll ever get there, and all the meanwhile the city is spread with libraries. Free to the public. No massive creative writing course fee or nothing. Free literature available to the public. A magnitude of wisdom all captured in a few rows of books. Incredible.

not understanding, and more

Can anyone tell me why there are so many brand new 5 cent coins around? They seem to be all over the place. My wallet is full of them, the petty cash box at work is overflowing with them, when I pay the parking attendant R4.10 he returns the two 5 cent pieces because clearly he has his own stash somewhere in a moon-bag.