another impossible thing

Insignificance‘ was a movie she rated

I didn’t get it

I didn’t understand it,

But today, and for years i have felt insignificant in a way


Who will miss you(me) when we are gone?

Possible not many

Yet we all want to be missed

We want to be desired

We want and want

We want love, and fame, and glory, and attention

We want delicatessen

We want Loui Vitton

I wanted to understand myself

But that is as hard as anything I ever thought about

Mostly everything I try to say is either misunderstood, or not even heard

So why talk at all?

And its not just with me, its mostly everyone

We mostly all just hear what we think is important

We want others to listen, but we cannot listen ourselves

I wanted romance when she where busy with arrangements

She wanted romance when I had a crisis

Our lives didn’t(and doesn’t) really run parallel

Occasionally couples do shit together, but not really are they actually ever connected

They play along(both parties)

If they are honest about really really connecting, then they either will fight, and argue, or Possible just walk away, keeping their opinions bottled

So may times it just turned into a fight

women, and men are incompatible.

I fact most people just make you feel horrible

Make you feel more alone than actually being alone


the disconnected are all connected

Yesterday I read a headline

Most of the time i skip the article

And i did this time (ignore the article)

The headline read” In 5 yrs the biggest addiction will be cellphone texting, (or sexting)….  Hell

I think we are there already?

Living amongst automatons

Slaves of the digital age

People cannot shit without looking at their phones

Its insinuated you are out of touch, when you are not up to speed with the latest apps

We are now more disconnected

Than yesteryear

And we will be more disconnected in the connected virtual tour


Girls will sit in a pub, or restaurant(well guys will do it as well) … And they l be looking at their phones, instead of even pretending to give a fuck at the company of those they are with

In the city you l see the young yuppie, with the stovepipe jeans, or skinnies … the pointed shoes .. supposedly making another ‘deal’ or doing another solid ..for us all to see

Hell’s bells! … Can one feel more alone, than people make you feel?

te veel tyd

Toe jy jonk was

Het die eenoogmuskiet se bek gewater … net so maklik soos

~n ‘Girl wat oor n ‘puddle’ trap

Nou Konsentreer jy maar die wortel bly slap

Viagra, and tiete wat saai … kan miskien n doeie voel, uit n nes laat val !?

“Resurrect `n bietjie ‘romance?

Hell, dit klink alright!

Probleem is nou erger, maar anders

Toe jy jonk was , was daar te veel meisjes, en te min tyd.

Wel dit was miskien waar vir sommige van ons samenlewing , `n waarheid”

Maar as ons eerlik moet wees, het die meeste ouens, en vrouwens, selfs toe(in hulle jeugd)maar net gedroom, en moes hulle maar self wortel rasper, en alleen pizza eet

Nou is dit ‘even erger’

Daar is nou tyd(vir party’ van ons), maar min geïnteresseerd in ons

En wanneer dit dalk gebeur … Maak assertief tog seker jy het n paar pilletjes in die spens


“… its crowded and cold …”

its one of those nights

Too much coffee, and smoking a rolled cigarette

And I bite my lip …

“In my secret life
In my secret life
In my secret life
In my secret life
I saw you this morning
You were moving so fast
Can’t seem to loosen my grip
On the past
And I miss you so much
There’s no one in sight
And we’re still making love
In my secret life
In my secret life
I smile when I’m angry
I cheat and I lie
I do what I have to do
To get by
But I know what is wrong
And I know what is right
And I’d die for the truth
In my secret life
In my secret life
Hold on, hold on, my brother
My sister, hold on tight
I finally got my orders
I’ll be marching through the morning
Marching through the night
Moving cross the borders
Of my secret life
Looked through the paper
Makes you wanna cry
Nobody cares if the people
Live or die
And the dealer wants you thinking
That it’s… ”  Leonard Cohen

scary shit

All to often we hear

So and So has changed

But I do not believe it


You can loose your belly fat

You can tone up

You will age

You can change your diet

But your personality remain the same

Your dna

your fast twitch

your pain

your moods, and your brain

Forget about it!

and that is the scariest part of ‘us’

that we are moulded, and once moulded, we remain


waking up in the middle of the night

thats my middle name

its then I laugh, and write, and am amused

By the thoughts that has arrived

The dreams that woke me

Sometimes I lie below the covers, and do not write my snippets down, and then

The morning comes

And they are gone

and only my sore tooth remains

some material

The Last day and a bit

I got a visit

It was of someone extraordinary

One of the rare specimens

Last of the Mohicans

Someone who doesn’t complain

Who has served and served and went beyond that extra Mile

i being that apple that rolled not too far from the thornbush

Wondered, how much acid I had in my pants

I hoped I had some of her inside me too