Archive for July, 2011

What would Gramps think

Posted in Mind Ramblings on July 27, 2011 by starstripe

I often wonder what my grandfather is thinking. To me, when people die that we love, they are always there, even if just in my head and a product of my imagination and they are a bit all-seeing/all-knowing. Especially my grandfather.

It’s a good gage of how my life is going when I consider what he must be thinking of me. It’s like that old question – “if you were to die suddenly, would people be shocked at what they find in your belongings?”

Death is something that really breaks down the walls of denial, unless you’re really fucking  ill in the head.

I don’t think my grandfather would be very happy. The worst part is, I don’t think he would be angry with me. I think he’d be sad.  I have shit in my head that I don’t quite know what to do with. And I know he can see that, and that it hurts him.

But then, what the fuck would I know.


My latest phase…

Posted in I did it for the lols... on July 5, 2011 by starstripe

I’ve been going through a bit of a phase I didn’t go through at Varsity lately. No, not the drinking, chicks and skateboarding phase.

Men have been my latest phase.

You see, at Varsity I had small flings but men terrified me. I didn’t like anyone who liked me, and would date them because I thought I might as well “take what I can.” I would do that until I couldn’t bear it anymore. When I reached that stage, I would feel like I was trapped in a vat of glue, and every SMS from the other half would make me so anxious I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want anyone to see me with them. I was ashamed of everything. I couldn’t get my mind off the fact that I was in this relationship and the utter terror of one of them seeing me later. But back then I had a big secret that I was guarding, and guys got in the way of that. My eating disorder really, REALLY did not want to be disturbed by questioning boyfriends. There were boys that I did like, but it wouldn’t last, mostly because of (you guessed it) my eating disorder and how difficult it made it to get along with me.

Start of 3rd year at UCT, 2003.

It wasn’t until I met my first love, Michael, that I had a “proper” relationship. He introduced me to really bad drugs and we formed sort of a “Sid and Nancy” couple. We were inseparable. People were worried we would commit suicide together. After I cleaned up, it ended and I left him for someone else. Then that ended and another one came along for a few years. Then another, then another.  Three weeks ago, the relationship that has possessed me for the last two years FINALLY came to an end after three break-ups and get back together(s). We both had our parts to play and we both seem to be doing better without the other.  And so, driving away from his house after our goodbye and his “I’m not a bastard… because I give a damn!” speech, I decided I had had enough of relationships full of expectations that are never met.

Relationships have brought me some great happiness. But I have done serious for so long. And that serious also comes with pain. Commitment is virtually always doomed, unless you’re married, and even then you get some pretty decent disasters. Over many break ups, people have said to me that “pain is inevitable, and misery optional.” Well fuck! When my next boyfriends steals my jewellery, cheats on me in front of our friends and colleagues and sells our (my) stuff for crack, I’ll try and “just feel the pain” and not be miserable. Bleh! Stupid people.

So I stumbled into the world of having the erm, good times, without the freaking admin that comes with a relationship. For example:

Why is he visiting his parents and not taking me along?! He’s ashamed of meh!” 

No. He’s not my boyfriend, and I don’t want to meet his parents anyway.

“Why didn’t he tell me he was going clubbing with his friends? He’s ashamed of meh!” 

No. He’s not my boyfriend and he can do whatever the fuck he feels like. And I don’t want to go to bars with his friends who I have never met anyway. I’ll go with my own friends, thank you very fucking much.

My friends have had a mixed response to my new found approach to men. Some simply say “well, as long as you don’t do stupid shit like have unprotected sex, that’s fine. Whatever makes you happy dude.” Others have a reaction something more like this: “OMG!!! OMG!!! No man respects you if you do that! You deserve BETTERRRR!!!! You are a wonderful, unique person with a wonderful personality and you must look after yourself!!!! OMG!!!!” I kid you not about the exclamation marks.

As you can imagine, my male friends’ response is more the former, and my female friends’ response is more the latter. At the end of the day, I didn’t have my racy phase at varsity because my ‘racy’ was hard drugs and keeping my BMI under 17. So that’s me. I’m sure I’ll have some sad post coming up about how my female friends were right. I farking hope not.