what comes after the blues?

Do you ever get the sense you've been down this road before? When you watch TV does that hot new show feel played out? Like you've seen everything there is to see? Been everywhere there is to go? Done every vacation that exists? Like nothing can take your breathe away anymore? Like no matter how astounding technology gets, the glass ceiling's already broken and it's never gonna be as great as it was that first time?

When I was eleven, we left our small-town roots for the first time and went to celebrate Christmas in the big city. Nairobi. I was in awe of everything I saw. I looked around and saw lights going round and round in endless circle. I saw the public Christmas tree in the middle of the city and I'd never seen such a big one before. I saw the skyscrapers and as my eyes followed them all the way up there to infinity I wondered who built them so tall, and how they stood up there, and how come the wind didn't blow them left and right like it did trees. Billboards. Malls. Housing estates with multiple phases. Supermarkets three floors big. Fast food joints. Clubs and cinemas. Traffic lights. More people on the streets than I'd ever seen in my life. I drank it all in with glee. And then later I moved there and all that became the fabric my life was made of. I didn't notice any of it anymore.

And then I turned 22 just as my team and I won a national competition that meant my team and me were gonna go to New York. The greatest city in the world. The one that never sleeps. The heart of the land of opportunity. And just like that I became 11 again. Times Square. Subways. McDonald's. Broadway. Brooklyn. Yellow cabs. One-way streets. $1 hotdogs from food carts on the streets. Pizza so large you eat it in slices. The Blade Runner, Remastered. Radio Shack (I actually bought my first mp3 player, a Sansa, there). Our hotel was actually in Manhattan. 891, Amsterdam Avenue. It's one of those things I'm just never gonna forget. It was like I'd died and gone to heaven.

And then four years later they told me I was moving to Johannesburg. I still remember my first experience landing here. Never mind that I wasn't a child anymore. I oohh-ed and aaahh-ed as we drove past the widest roads I'd seen yet, stacked neatly one on top of the other. Wide open spaces. Not a spec of dust in sight. Even the flower beds around compounds seemed not to contain any soil. They brought me to Sandton Central. And I got out and started walking around and admiring everything I saw. Swanky low-rise complexes. Large, pane-only windows. Trees interspersed so casually and so perfectly with the modern development the whole city looks from above like it's in a forest. Harley Davidson. Sports cars randomly driving past on the road like it ain't a thing. Hot water taps that actually had hot water flowing from them. Street lights that worked. And made the N1 look like a stairway to heaven as it receded into the horizon in the calm of night.

The first time at anything is always the greatest. Because your imagination gets stretched. Because you're seeing something completely new. Something much like a miracle. Something akin to poetry in its wonder and magic. Because you become like a child again. Every other time I've gone to new places (and there have been a few) I've seen it, how everything looks like I've been there before. I get excited for two minutes and then it's back to business as usual. It's a little scary, actually, thinking about how I'm gradually less and less impressed by new experiences. How it progressively takes more and more to get my attention. How I don't worship at the throne of Apple as much as I used to.

How fleeting life all is.

END

don't dream it's over

What do you choose when you have to choose between doing what you love and doing what works just to bring the bacon home?

I've been lucky on very many fronts through my life. But what I think is one of the biggest ways I've been blest is I've never had an eclectic passion that was shared by maybe three other people in Herzegovina. Everything I've loved doing has been something you can make a sustainable living out of. I've never had to choose to do a job just because I was getting paid to do it. Granted, it's still quite early in my life relatively, but I like the path I'm on. If the trajectory goes on this way, in 15 years I'll still love what I'll be doing.

The same cannot be said for certain people in my life.

I know a guy who loved music. Loved it with all his heart. He worked hard and cultivated great skill at it. He had natural talent so  it was never very difficult for him. He could write music. He could play any instrument you gave him. He could accompany any song by ear, never having heard it before. He wanted nothing but to do it for the rest of his life. But alas, he was born in the wrong country, at the wrong time, perhaps with the wrong vision. See he saw a world where all he would have to do would be to play what he loves playing, and every other piece of his life would fall in its rightful place. But that's not the way life goes.

And so he made some bad choices. Took some wrong turns. Got involved with the wrong kinds of people. Lied and cheated his way to hide misstep after misstep. Used and discarded anyone that wasn't wise to his act. Alienated the two people that loved him more than anyone else in the world. But through all this, the music was never touched. The music stayed constant. The music was always his beacon back to the light. It was always the moment when he really came alive. One day, his house of cards came crumbling down. Everything he had done, or not done, became clear. And he had nothing left to fall back on. The talent, as it rapidly became apparent, was just not enough. Passion wasn't the be all end all he'd been led [perhaps by the movies] to believe.

So he had to make a choice. Continue to follow his heart [to destruction], or follow the well beaten path. Go to school like everyone else. Get an education like everyone else. Get a job, like everyone else. I heard how broken he was by the time he came to this realization. How resigned he seemed. Like life didn't mean anything anymore. Dreams are powerful things, everyone says. But no one ever thinks about how dire the effect is of having to lose one. We only know of how powerful they are when they come true.

When you turn on the TV, or you watch movies, or you read magazines, all you hear about is how Justin Bieber's mum posted random videos on Youtube that Scooter Braun just happened to watch. Or how Mark Zuckerberg was just goofing around in his dorm when he ended up with a 800 million member juggernaut called Facebook. Or how Barack Obama really just wanted to make his community a better place, and he became the most powerful man in the world. No one ever tells you that for every one person like that, there's a million others who've tried and failed. A million others who were sometimes just a little better, only in the wrong place. A million others who were broken by life. Who lost hope along the way. Who somewhat paved the way for these ones who would come later to succeed. Who die just a little inside every time they have to look and see what could have been.

No one ever tells you how it kills the people that love them to watch them self destruct like this.

Anyway, he's now at the beginning of this new path. He's gone back to the drawing board and he's starting over again. Making practical choices this time. Doing everything by the book, hopefully. Maybe this time around, the fates will smile on him and he'll succeed. I hope so. With all my heart I hope so.

Remember when you were still a kid?  When storks delivered the babies and passions weren't so strong ...when recess was too short and life was too long...when decisions came easily without the need to belong...when friendships were un-broken...when right was right, and wrong was wrong...when bad things didn't happen...when the fun went on forever and never left a broken heart...when dreams were un-shattered and worries were few? But we had to go and grow up. Growing up is about losing things. It's about leaving things behind. It's kinda sad, really, when you think about it. Because one's never as alive as they are when they're young. The hardest thing about growing up is that you always have to do what's right; even if it means breaking someone's heart, including your own.

END