over and over again

When we were kids there was a few things you absolutely knew about my dad after talking to him for 5 minutes (or growing up in his house for 12 years). He doesn't play games. He doesn't say things twice. He goes from 0 to 100 quick. He cares about everything he owns. And on top of that list of things he owns that he cares about is his car. I remember spending weekends watching him clean the little AC vents with a toothbrush because just wiping the doors and hood with river water was for average people.

And then this one Sunday they come to wake me up talking about I need to go wash the car. I'm still in a stupor coz I was up watching that midnight movie last night against intructions. And in my lucid dream I could feel the rain falling. Sounds like water to me, so I told the people to leave me alone - the rain has already cleaned the car. Fast forward 17 minutes, all of us are heading to church, and then my father starts with me.

"Colin, you are actually in this car?" I'm on some of course I am I have earned the right to be a member of this family by being obedient and giving up all my freedom and getting good grades at school and all the things people that don't have their own children think they're doing their parents a favor by doing. "You know I heard you being woken up to come and clean the car and I heard your response." Shucks! "Colin. I am very disappointed in you. Next time something like that happens, you will never step into this car."

He wasn't yelling, or hyperventilating or banging his fists against the wheel like he usually would be when he's livid. He was just cool, changing gears and indicating left and right between pronouncing curses on my life. Every rebellious bone in my body was screaming who does he think he is and let me out right now it's not like we've had a car all my life and I was living just fine. But in the real world, silence. I wasn't even waiting for the other shoe to drop, coz usually admonitions like that would quickly be followed by a couple of slaps. But I knew they weren't coming. Everything he wanted to say had already been said.

I was almost never beaten as a child. They spoke to me like that. And somewhere deep down inside they always struck a chord. I listened because I was scared to death of not having my parents around, and I felt like they might leave or send me away. As I got older obviously our relationship changed and we all started talking to each other instead of them speaking and me listening. But never on the same level with my dad. He was made differently - only one person can be in charge. And that person can't not be him. And everyone around must know. It used to kill me having to shut up and listen all the time.

Now it kills me not being able to listen at all. There's not a lot of times that I talked back, but there are. And I think of all those times and ask myself when I stopped being afraid my parents would go away. Because he finally did. It wasn't because I stopped listening, but it still broke my heart all the same. I always thought those days that the worst thing that would happen to us was we wouldn't be able to get food to eat when my dad left. I have food now, but it turns out that's not all I needed him for.

I needed him to take care of all the things that I couldn't. I needed him to be strong when I couldn't be. I needed him to be the bridge between today and tomorrow every time I thought the world was ending. I've spent two years not knowing where to turn, and I've learned to numb the pain. But every so often something happens and that night in October comes crashing back into my mind. 

Today, it was a song.

END

i don't feel it anymore

“The end of a melody is not its goal: but nonetheless, had the melody not reached its end it would not have reached its goal either."

Love is a funny thing. Like a melody.

You meet someone you didn't know, you talk to them for a minute, and then your heart decides that person is the one, and suddenly you don't remember how you used to spend all your free time before you met them. And you can't imagine life without them. And being together with that person literally makes your blood boil. And you want to never go to sleep because time spent with that person is better than a dream. And when you look at anyone else, you you feel nothing. Because you don't have the void anymore. You have everything a person could ever ask for, and you just can't see it getting any better.

And then you disagree on religionsomething, and then you have a fight that becomes a hundred fights, and then you feel trapped. Unable to move forward. Unable to break free. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. And you can't see the forever you saw in their eyes anymore. And then all of a sudden, it's all gone. For a short while you can't stand the sight of that person. You can't bear to think of them. You wish you'd never met them. You can't see all the joy they brought you anymore, just the pain and hurt. You want to go back and erase every moment you spent together. And then, with time, even that fades. They become like somebody that you used to know.

Time makes it so the vitriol gets replaced with indifference. All the time you spent burning them in effigy now seems stupid. You still can't see any of the good times, but you definitely don't wish a plague of locusts upon them. You're not strangers, but you're not friends. You're not enemies. You're not even nemesis. You're just....nothing.

If the heart is really a muscle, it must be made of the same stuff Wolverine is made of. I'm convinced if any other organ in our bodies went through the crap our hearts went through, none of us would make it.

Because after that entire cycle, just when you're comfortable being in your house playing Arkham Knight, you meet someone else. And you can't remember what color the sky used to be.

END

one man can change the world

It's said that the hardest thing a man will ever have to face is what might have been. 

But I don't agree. It's one of two things: either the man's still very young and then he has time to change and create a new future; or he's at the end of his prime, and then there's a lot behind him he has already accomplished and can look back at and take pride in. It's really all a matter of perspective. That never-quitting attitude that recognises even when everything seems to be at an impasse that it could always get worse. And that we still have a lot to be thankful for if we only look.

It's been two years since that difficult month. That month when the hero of our household almost went out without a light. When my father finally after so many days started showing signs of improvement, I remember thinking wow, prayer really can come through against all odds. His body went back to normal, he started getting strong enough to do exercises and walk around, he started eating the same things we were eating at the same times we were eating. He started sometimes sleeping without that breathing tube. With other people it gradually stopped being the first question on the agenda. It was good times all around with the levites.

And then the rain fell. He got a mild strain of pneumonia, or the common flu or whatever. But all that progress got erased. He went back on the machine full time. We were taken back to almost the drawing board. Since then, it's never looked as up as it did those months so long ago. There have been mild ups and downs, keyword being mild. Other keyword downs. What you would expect is that if you try for something and you pray for it for two years and seemingly nothing changes, a lesser person would give up.

Not him.

I got a convicting message from him recently. That made me realise probably I'd given up to some extent. It was such a sobering moment. What right did I have to give up when the person who was actually going through the tribulation still held hope? When he still got up every morning and made plans for the future, who was I to abandon the fight and start moving on? And he's been such an amazing person through all this - all he's asking for is support. The feeling that whatever miles he has to run, we'll be there running them with him. As he keeps fighting that battle, swimming uphill at things we can all do in our sleep, things he used to be able to do in his sleep, we shall carry him when he can't walk. In exchange he's promising that when we can't walk, he'll carry us wherever he can. He still sees himself as our rock, even though really it's he who needs a rock.  Even though his own life was usurped and turned upside down and thrown out with the bath water, he still has time to be concerned about how ours are going. 

That's what a father does. He's there for his people, whether he can be or not. I realised a long time ago in hindsight that I'm very often watching and learning when things happen to me or around me. Without even realising. I hope through all this that I'm still watching and learning. One of these days I'll be that man, and then we'll find out.

END

do you believe in magic

You know, I do believe in magic. I was born and raised in a magic time, in a magic town, among magicians. Oh, most everybody else didn't realise we lived in that web of magic, connected by silver filaments of chance and circumstance. But I knew it all along. When I was twelve years old, the world was my magic lantern, and by its green spirit glow I saw the past, the present and into the future. You probably did too; you just don't recall it. See, this is my opinion: we all start out knowing magic. We are born with whirlwinds, forest fires, and comets inside us. We are born able to sing to birds and read clouds and see our destiny in grains of sand. But then we get the magic educated right out of our souls. We get it churched out, spanked out, washed out, and combed out. We get put on the straight and narrow and told to be responsible. Told to ac tour age. Told to grow up for God's sake.

That used to be me when I was a child. I used to be able to see magic in everything. I used to appreciate the sound of birds singing when I got up. I'd walk over the grass after it had rained and run my hands through the hedge, immersing myself in the coldness that was my environment. I'd smell the earth as rainwater fell on it, look out the window at heavy drops from our sloping roof fall and form puddles on the ground. I kept a bird once. It flew in through the window and broke a wing or whatever - anyway, it couldn't fly out, so I put it in a box and fed it for three days. It died.

And then high school came. And I went to the one school that prides itself on turning boys into men. And they did a number on me. So now I have to every day find new ways to act my age. It used to be that I could sit and wait to be told things. Now I have to take initiative. It used to be that my biggest worry was how I would explain the ink stain on my shirt after I was explicitly told not to carry my pen in there. Now I have a new employee whose career is totally in my hands to be concerned about. It used to be that whenever I went over to one of my friends' house, we'd just sit and play games. Or talk. Now, it's couple things and weddings and game nights and baby christenings. It used to be that when I read a comic (and I read a lot) and there was a new super hero in there, I would in the real world try to emulate their power. I made goggles like Cyclops once, but obviously the laser beam didn't quite work out. Now when I'm watching the movies based on those comics I enjoy them, but I know it's because of the comic relief that allows me to escape from reality, if only for two hours.

When life happened I did what everyone else does. I went to school, and then I went to uni, and then I got a job, and then I got my own house. I remember when I was a kid wondering why the hell my parents came home and said they were tired. I mean all they did was sit at a desk all day long. From where I sat, at least we played games, and practised agriculture by practising it, and learned woodwork by making things out of wood. Plus we were little. Now I have days when I come back home, close my eyes, and wake up a day and a half later. Growing up is tough, because now you're going through everything you thought was ridiculous when you saw the adults in your time go through it. And because you seemingly can't enjoy christmas anymore.

So now I'm about to the next thing everyone does. I need to settle down and start a family. All these cousins making my aunts grand parents every other day aren't helping matters at all. It's like the new rat race now - who has the next generation happening. For the days when my plans included things like recording TRL on MTV.

The truth of life is that every year we get farther away from the essence that is born within us. We get shouldered with burdens, some of them good, some of them not so good. Things happen to us. Loved ones die. Life itself does its best to take the memory of that magic away from us. And after you go so far away from it, you can't ever really get it back. You can have seconds of it. When a song stirs a memory, when motes of dust turning in a shaft of light takes our attention from the world, when you listen to a bus passing at night in the distance and wonder where it might be going, you step beyond who are and where you are. For the briefest of instants, you have stepped into the magic realm.

The memories of who I was and where I lived are important to me. They make up a large part of who I'm going to be when my journey winds down. Maybe later when I have my own children, I'll try a little to make sure they hold on to that magic longer than I did. Maybe they'll be able to use that green lantern to work up an amazing future for themselves.

END

the day before the day

The story goes: this guy's walking down the road when he falls into a hole. The walls are so steep he can't get out. A doctor passes by and the guy shouts, "Hey you, can you help me out?" The doctor writes a prescription and throws it down the hole and moves on. Then a priest comes along and the guy shouts out, "Father I'm down in this hole, can you help me out?" The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down and moves on. Then a friend walks by. "Hey Joe, it's me. Can you help me out?" The friend jumps into the hole. The guy says, "You fool. Are you stupid?? Now we're both stuck here." And the friend says, "Ah, but I've been here before. I know the way out."

It's been about 5 months since I came to the realization that I was not as I had seen myself in my dreams. It quite literally happened, as everything cliched, during a sleepless night. I sat up all night that night, driven by an irrevocable compulsion to re-examine my life. And when I couldn't hold it in any longer, I began to seek forgiveness. And then later I began seeking for the strength to become different. Better.

So I have been practising something new. I've been trying to listen. I've been trying to put others before me, or at least at the same level in my mind as myself. I've been empathising before responding; listening to understand; walking a mile in other people's shoes. And for one thing, I have found walking to be pretty good for the heart. 

It's not easy for someone like me to defer to someone else. Habits only take 21 days to form, and I've had 21 years. So the other thing I've learned to do over the past so many weeks has been to depend on the experiences of others. As I've started to listen more keenly, I've discovered that there are a lot of people out there who havebeen when I am. They've already weathered this storm and have paid the price for personal improvement. I've been learning from them little by little. Simple things like shutting up and not saying that last word. Or accepting an apology even when it wasn't delivered in the language I wanted it in. Or being the first to back down and say the winning in the long run is more important than winning right now. Or, just being a whole lot more generous with the myriad of blessings the Lord has bestowed upon me.

This weekend was Yom Kippur. That's the Jewish holiday where you go to God and seek atonement for the sins you have committed. It's like the Sabbath of Sabbaths. I found out though that the day before Yom Kippur is called Erev Yom Kippur. On that day, you go before men and you seek their forgiveness for all the wrongs you have committed against them. You cannot seek to set yourself straight with God unless you're straight with man is the principle I think.

Anyway, I've learned that friends can have an amazing impact on your life if you let them. And if you have the right ones. So that must mean I have some great friends. Little by little I'm getting straight with all of them. One of these days I shall be able to go to God with a pure heart and a clean slate.

END

band aid covers the bullet hole

Betrayal isn't ridiculous. It's the reason empires fall.

I remember the day my world came crushing down like it was yesterday. It wasn't, but I'm quite certain I will carry that burden for the rest of my life. That day, someone I thought I trusted with my very life let me down. A person I had elevated on the highest pedestal you can possibly elevate another proved themselves a mere mortal. They erred, and in so doing they made me think them less deserving of my reverence. It's been a long climb back up, but in that time I have seen in my life the veracity of time's healing nature. It hasn't ever gotten easier, and the burden hasn't gotten lighter, but I have gotten used to living with it.

I don't know if we ever really forgive people. I think one of the unique things about human beings is we were made able to spot patterns in the things around us. And that traits in behaviour are as strong a pattern as any. Let's say someone took your heart and stomped on it, broke it into a thousand pieces. And then came and picked them all up and put it back together. You might forgive them, and you might even let them back in, but is it ever the same again? Is it ever as pure as it was the first time? Are they ever the god they were before they betrayed your trust? The body recovers. Physical fractures and cuts heal. But does the heart? I don't know that the first cut is really the deepest. I think it's just the deepest till the next one. You never get used to it. Every time you get cut, it hurts just as bad as the other times.

So anyway, what to do when that person strikes again and sinks even lower?

The first time I felt like I was the one violated. I felt like I was forced to make a sacrifice that someone in my station shouldn't be made to make. I did it for what I thought was a noble reason, so I don't regret that, but I resented the fact that I was cornered. And now I just got through listening to how the same person devoured another's spirit. It's not really unique to us this occurrence. It's not an original story; it just hasn't ever been close to me before. Like how we all know death exists but don't feel it until it touches us personally. I'm scared to be alone because of the things I think about. I don't want to fall into that trap of dissociating everything amazing someone has done for you because of that one bad thing they did that hurt you - no matter how bad it was. Even when they do it again, that's still just two times, right?

I'm watching a show called Betrayal. I know, everyone says it's only TV, but I think that's rhetoric people say because they have subconsciously been conditioned to say it by pop culture; like making fun of that Kardashian show or extolling the purity of Android because of its openness. To me, it has always been uncanny how much TV can cut across to real life. How you can see in the cast things you are going through or have been through. They say on that show that if you spend time wishing for someone to go through fire for what they did to your heart, then you're allowing them to hurt you a second time in your mind.

I need time to come quickly and cover this hole that I'm falling into. I need to stop here and move on to happier thoughts.

END

we change, we wait

"There is neither happiness nor misery in the world, there is only the comparison of one state with another by the mind. He who has felt the deepest grief is able to experience supreme happiness. We must have felt what it is to die, Morrel, that we may appreciate the enjoyments of life."

Contrast is a powerful thing. If you run into one of these kinds of philosophers, they'll probably tell you only half the world was created - the other half exists as a contrast to something. I was watching a feature on TV about will.i.am and how he came up, and he said, "You don't know you're poor when you're growing up, coz everyone else around you is poor. No. You find that out later." You only know you're happy when you know what it is to be despondent. You only know empathy when you've been angry before. You only know you're naked when you see someone clothed. You only know you're poor when you come around people who aren't. We learn from our parents. We learn from our teachers. We learn from the world. But we also learn from our experiences. From our hearts.

In the recent past, there have been some dark days. The kinds of things no one ever prepares you for. And for more than almost anyone else my mum. Every single person knows this to not be true, and yet we continue to believe it, that good people don't deserve bad things. But they happened anyway. The doctors did a thousand tests before they finally found out what was wrong, so one could argue: did the other 900 need to happen? And even after all that, after you'd think she had gone through everything a person can go through, he was still misdiagnosed. Anyway. It appears the worst is behind us now. 

My dad left the hospital and has now begun the long journey of recuperation in more familiar environment. From everything they tell us it'll take a while, so we just have to exercise patience. And to thank God for everyday as it comes and to ask him for grace for the next one. There was a point back there when we really didn't seem to be able to catch any breaks. And it wasn't two or three days. It was a long time. So if there's a lesson somewhere in there, it needs to include the amount of time from A to B. Or maybe there's not a spiritual explanation for all this, and it was all just so we can appreciate life more. They say you never miss the water till the well runs dry. Maybe our well just almost ran dry so we can appreciate the water without having lost it. I don't know. Let's see what time reveals.

"Live, then, and be happy, beloved children of my heart, and never forget, that until the day God will deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is contained in these two words: 'Wait and Hope.'"

END

breathing

"It's the oldest story in the world. One day you're 17 planning for someday, and then quietly, without you ever noticing, someday is today. And then someday is yesterday. And this is your life."

So my dad started getting better. Or as better as someone can be when they need to breathe through a mask. I was looking at him this weekend and thinking the rockiest days are behind us. But maybe not. Because once he's out of hospital, the journey begins of making sure there's always oxygen available outside the controlled setting of a hospital. Yes the environment is more inviting, but the variables are more complex. And the availability of quick response options is less, I think. I don't know. Or he could leave the hospital the wholesome person he was through some miracle (that we are still believing God for).

I think as people in our endless quest for adventure and titillation we under-estimate the peace that comes with living an uneventful life. I've seen a little bit how bad the lack of that peace can be. When nothing is happening, nothing can go wrong. When everything stays the same, nothing can usurp your life and turn it upside down. Yes sometimes it's good things that do this, but sometimes it's not. And when a bad thing happens, you realise how good you had it in the first place. It's in our un-appreciative nature as human beings that these passive things like peace of mind go unnoticed. There's this story some environmentalist was peddling: "Imagine if trees gave off free wifi. We would all plant trees everywhere and the world would become a better place. Hmmm. Too bad they only give off oxygen." Imagine that - you don't know how badly you need to breathe until you can't.

I think it's better to yearn for an uneventful life, because the other kind could go either way. Then it becomes a question of perspective. You could choose to attach meaning to all those small things that tend to go unnoticed, and thus turn a negative situation into a winner. But at least that choice will be yours. When you bet big you could win big, but if you lose big you can never justify that cost to yourself of having taken that chance. Now, my dad didn't even bet, so that just makes it even more painful that he's losing so big. He should at least have been given the choice. 

If only he'd had an uneventful life... If you know me by now, you can probably guess what song I've been listening to.

Coz I am hanging on every word you say
Even if you don't wanna sleep tonight,
that's alright, alright with me
Coz I want nothing more than
Sit outside heaven's door and
Listen to you breathing
It's where I wanna be, yeah

END

between raising hell and amazing grace

It's been exactly one year - to the day - since I was last here. The year has been ... eventful to say the least. Anyway.

The story of Job is a very interesting one. Here is a man whom God Himself holds up as a paragon of integrity. And the devil is like, but you've given him so much. Of course he worships you, what else would he do. "Ok, then. Let's see," says God to the devil. So the devil starts taking everything away from Job one by one, until he has nothing left. And Job reacts, "The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be His name." Obviously the devil is not happy, so he goes after Job's own health. Job gets condemned so publicly that even his three closest friends who were standing by him start to admonish him. They assume he must have done something really bad to deserve what was happening to him. "Is not your wickedness great? Are not your sins endless?" They ask him.

In his human nature, Job does not understand why all this is happening to someone who was faithful to God all his life. He cries out to the Lord and calls him to account. "If I have sinned, what have I done to you, oh watcher of men? Why have you made me your target?" he challenges God. But the Lord stays hidden from him. Job gives up. "My spirit is broken. My days are cut short," he laments.

And then God finally does come back to him. But not to answer his questions. He walks Job through a wilderness appreciation tour, highlighting all the majesties and splendour of nature. His point: until you know what it takes to run a physical universe, don't tell me how to run a moral one. However, in all their interactions, God never accuses Job of sinning against Him. He admonishes him for calling His fairness into account, but never for sinning. 

In the end, Job himself does come round to repenting, but again, not for railing against God. "Surely I spoke of things I did not understand. Things too wonderful for me to know." This is what he repents for.

There's a lot of stories you can take out of the book of Job. But two I find most compelling right now: 1) you will go through suffering and you won't know why until God reveals it to you; and 2) while you're suffering you can tell all that to God. Throw at him your anger, your disappointment, your grief and your doubt. God is bigger than we are - he can take it all.

So the last time I did this, I was reminded of a story my dad told me. He said, "I know that I went out of my way to serve the Lord, and it has been well with me."

Given his condition now, and the things that have been happening, I'm thinking, has it? Job had a lot of grace, and he sounds like he was a very strong person. He waited a lifetime for God to reveal Himself. I don't know if I'm built that way. I don't know how long I can hold out for.

They say God doesn't let you go through anything He hasn't already equipped you to handle. Ok, then, let's see.

END

something i can never have

It's happening again. I can't believe how often this happens to me now. Want to know what I think? I think when the person you're with picks a normal, calm, not-in-a-fight moment to tell you that you treat them like sh!t, you're screwed either way. There's no way that scenario ends well for you. I think sometimes there's just a basic problem of incompatibility. Two people gel, and then they don't anymore. When you try your best and it's not good enough, I think it's time to walk away. Time to try something different. You can't be someone else, you can only be yourself. I think for the right person, that's really all you're ever going to have to be.

You know those lists people have, that describe their perfect mate? It might not be a written list or whatever but we all talk about it with our friends so we've all got it in our minds, I destroyed mine. From what I've seen over the last two years, I don't think those things serve any purpose. When you find what you're looking for, I believe you'll know it. And when it's not right for you, you'll also know it, as I'm learning now. And my head is strangely serene about this. I keep waiting for that rush of tears, that torrent of emotion, that hotness in my face, to get overwhelmed as people are wont to do at times like these, but it doesn't come. Maybe the feeling's not sunk in completely yet. But I'm wondering what it says that I'm not currently going through my albums and deleting all the photos we have together like I know I've done before.

When I was a teenager I went to one of those bible camps where the main subject was waiting, and this guy's philosophy on how to know you've met your person was "Does the Jesus in you see the Jesus in her?" I think the Jesus in me needs to start speaking a little louder. Seriously.

Now comes the hard part - friendship. To be, or not to be, that is the question.

Ironically, this is the one they call the month of love. And while on satellite (DSTv) they're playing all those What's-Love-Got-To-Do-With-It type chic flicks where everyone ends up living happily ever after, out here in the real world hearts are breaking all over. So I'm listening to Savage Garden.

END

drowning on dry land

Sometime I cry. It's becoming clear to me when. I cry when I feel I have no control. I cry when I feel like the choice isn't mine. Like everything is in someone else's hands and I'm just an unwilling participant. Like I know what I want but I also know I'm not going to get it no matter what I do. I cry when I'm angry. I cry when I sense oppression from forces I can't control. But even more than that, I cry when I feel like I am a good man stuck in an adverse situation. I cry when I feel like I don't deserve what's happening to me.

I have always been able to lash out and express myself whenever I was dissatisfied with anything. I have always taken comfort in the thought that no matter what, at least my thoughts were always my own. Not anyone else's. But not lately. It's taken me a minute to get here, these are things I cannot so easily talk about. I've recently been through one of those moments, when you wish you were never born, or were born under different circumstances. In that moment, I felt like there was more on my shoulders than they were wont to bear.

The classic defintion of selfishness to me came from one Oscar Wilde. Selfishness is not living as one wishes. It is asking others to live is one wishes. There was an argument when I was at home. It was bad. And I have had nightmares about it ever since it happened. It started as something small but when it was over my life was completely changed by it. I still don't know if I can talk about it, but I know two nights don't go by when I don't think about it. This is the second time now in my life that I have wished I could tell the future. So that I would look and see what the consquences of my current actions would be before I committed them. And not just consequences on me, but on the people around me.

Maybe one day I will be able to talk about these things openly. Maybe one day I won't have those nightmares. And maybe when it's my turn and I have my own sacrifices to make, I'll do what I think was the right thing to do. I hope I won't be selfish. I hope I won't be supremacist. And I hope I will have the wherewithall to listen. But for now, for now I must continue to block that weekend. It's a sad day when someone like me can't say what they really want to say. Because that day, I'm not myself. The person that I am doesn't exist anymore. Something happened that weekend that I can't ever take back. And I can't talk about it. So I cry. And it's not the good kind.

END

the desperate kingdom of love

Has there ever been one thing you thought you loved with all your heart? Something you thought you couldn't live without? Something you thought you'd do absolutely anything it took to keep? Did you keep it? Did it cost you everything to keep it? Was it a person? Did they feel the same way about you? Was it worth it?

My story's not over yet, it's still being written, but I once thought I did. Not too long ago. I thought I had someone in my life that defined me. That made me who I was. I don't know if I still do. And the limbo is eating me up inside. I know that because I'm up at 4AM writing this on a weeknight. And, because my heart aches. Physically, it aches. And the worst thing is, I don't know that I did everything I could to keep them. Maybe I didn't try hard enough. Or I gave up for a reason that's unjustifiable.

I've been reliving those moments over and over again. There's a lot of stuff I could have said. A lot of things I could have done differently. Had I tried, I think this could have gone a completely different way. I think I wouldn't be here right now. But I think it wouldn't have been real. It wouldn't have been complete. I think I would have ended up always wondering - what if I hadn't tried? Would we still be together? Would it still be as natural? I know relationships are supposed to be work, but exactly how much work is too much work? Anyway, like they say: when you go away for a short time, and you come back, and your person tells you they suddenly stopped missing you, that something's definitely changed, I think you're screwed either way.

I'm getting promoted at work tomorrow. Within the minimum time, just like we planned it, my boss and me. It's just further confirmation that this freight train that is my life is headed in the right direction. Just one more in a long string of fortunate events that means I'm totally blest. Ordinarily I'd be at the beach celebrating this. But for some reason, the human in me can't stop thinking about what I'm missing. What I'm likely going to be missing for a while. There's a lot of things that are right with my life, but I think the one thing that's wrong with it, biggest thing that's wrong with it, is that my life is not a movie. And that I don't write the scripts. And it doesn't have a soundtrack. I often find music cures a lot of situations. Or it just helps me escape. I've been listening to a lot of Dido lately. 

And, everyone's not perfect. Not even close. Me included.

I guess you really can't have it all, all the time. We all have a dark cloud hanging over our heads. I know it serves a purpose. I know a certain darkness is needed to see the stars. But then I also know those stars are not bright enough to overcome it. This girl in my all time favorite show was having a rough time with everything around her at some point. She was an artist for fun, so that's how she expressed herself. So she got up one weekend and painted her entire house white. Said she thought she'd "...paint the shadows away." How cool would it be if it were that easy to wipe pain away? They say our biggest regrets are not for the things we did, but the things we didn't do. Not for the things we said, but the things we didn't say. Does this darkness have a name?

So this guy used to play basketball. And he was the best. Then he got shot in the ribs or stabbed or something. He survived, but had to go through therapy for a while. And he sort of started losing his game. But before everyone knew it, he started playing again. He forced himself. And he trained harder than everyone to get his form back. One day he's hard at it and he's bleeding from his injury when a teammate walks up to him and asks him what his secret is. Where does he get the strength to endure the pain? And he says he doesn't really have one. It's just resolve. "One day, you just start shooting and deal with the pain later." If only that's all it took.

END

deterioration of the fight or flight response

How do birds do it? Fly thousands of miles halfway across the world and still find their mark? And come back again in spring when it's nice and warm. Wildebeest? How do penguins do it? They live in the snowy mountains. Everything's white and looks like everything else. How do they figure out where home is? How can they tell they're going in the right direction? And how do they never get lost along the way? And the very first time, how do they know they've arrived, never having been where they're going before?

When you can't see the future, when you don't know what dreams may come, when you're not sure whether or not this was supposed to be The One for you - how do you know when it's time to stop fighting and let go? I don't want to be that guy ten years later looking back wondering if I threw away a lifetime of happiness over a stubborn disposition. But I also don't want to be that guy who turns the other cheek and says "Please, slap me again." I like to think when I have a stand to make, I'll be able to get the courage to make it. And for the rest of my life I'll be able to live with my choices. But it's just so damn hard without knowing.

Two things I know about myself that I didn't a year ago: I'm not chauvinistic, but I do like to be made to feel like I'm in charge. I hate it when people don't make sense. I hate it when something's so obvious to me but other people can't seem to see it. I hate everything that's not rooted in logic (so naturally I love my blog). And two, I'm a needy person. And I'm not as strong lonely as I thought I was. When I fall for someone, I fall hard. Hard. So in a sense, I'm just like everyone else. I'm really not the superman I thought I was.

So I'm at that point now. We got into a fight, repeatedly. The same fight. And if you ask me, what's at the root of it all is respect and compromise. I feel I keep bending over backwards, and she doesn't meet me halfway. She feels I'm rude and I don't respect her or treat her like a queen. We've been here before. And we got through it every time. But I think we got through it because I was always willing to extend an unconditional olive branch. I think I give and I give and I give, and I don't know if I can live like that for the rest of my life. It's supposed to be a cycle, is it not? Now you give, now you receive. If it just keeps being one-sided, I think one of the people will lose themselves. And maybe some people are fine with that-personalities differ, right? But not me. The third thing I know about myself, and have always suspected, is that I have to be allowed to BE me. I've won too many times at too many things in the past to doubt myself.

I saw an episode on one of my all-times (One Tree Hill) where Andy and Lucas' mum were breaking up. He was moving back to Australia coz Dan got him deported, and she wouldn't go with him even though she seemingly didn't have a reason not to. So as he walks out the final time she's like, "Andy, I love you, you know." And he goes, "I know, Karen. But somehow that just doesn't seem to be enough." And he walked away. Right now, I know where I wanna go with this girl. I just don't know how to get there. Or if it's worth it anymore to even try. I need help.

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

hurts like heaven

When you love someone, you wanna be there for them. You wanna be that rock they lean on. You want it to be you they think about when they get up in the morning, and when they go to sleep at night. You want to look up and see their face all the time. You find out what it means when Elton John sang about one heart beating in two separate lives. You never want to say goodbye. You never want to do anything else. You never want to see anyone else. You ask yourself what things you can do to make the time between you longer. You try to be things you've never been just so they can think of you as Superman. You do crazy things like get a fridge so you've got a place to stick all those photos of both of you. You rearrange your entire house. You stay up all night listening to Katie Melua sing about piano keys being a million colors in your mind. You learn to love the music they love. You change every little thing about you that you promised yourself you'd never change just to be a better partner to them. You compromise. You learn a new language.

When you love someone, they're a part of you. They become who you are.

And sometimes when you're the luckiest person in the world, you get all of that back from them. Or you hit a brick wall. Sometimes you hear not now. Sometimes there's not that perfect meeting of minds. Sometimes it's the spring of hope, sometimes it's the winter of despair. Sometimes you want more than they can give. Sometimes you're in paradise, sometimes you're hurtling down Dante's Inferno. Sometimes you stare at a bottle of Panadol wondering how much it would take to overdose.  Somtimes you don't want to go to sleep, because reality feels so much better than a dream. Sometimes you wish you could live forever just so you'd always feel the way you do, sometimes you wish forever could be severed by the sharp knife of a short life. Sometimes you stand in the rain and let it wash down you to see if it will wash away the pain with it.

But it's the most bittersweet pain. Because it's during those, the bleakest moments, that you realise just how great love is. When you're blasting through the sad songs, when you don't have words to describe how broken up you are, you remember the day you two met. And you remember the first time you knew you were meant to be. And you think about that time you skipped home like a baby, happy. It's when the person drives you nuts, and when you can't stand to be around them, or when you're so hurt so bad you don't think you'll ever come back from it, that you realise just how worth all of it they are. Tolstoy said you get gold not by growing it but by washing away from it all that is not gold. These moments show you everything that's not love, and in so doing, enable you to appreciate even more, cherish even further, love even deeper. You realise just how right Shakespeare was:

Love is not love, which alters when it alteration finds.
It is an ever fixed mark, that looks on tempests, 
and is never shaken.
Love alters not with Time's brief hours, or weeks
but bears it out, even to the edge of doom.

And so you write them a little message telling them you'll love them for a thousand more years, and then you go to sleep and wait to see what tomorrow will bring. Hoping that whatever it be, there'll be two of you, facing it together.

END

the film did not go round

I wonder how princesses used to be able to tell when a frog was just a frog and when it was going to turn into a handsome prince. Because surely it must be unhealthy to just kiss frogs randomly and hope for the best, no? In fact, I know it is. Because I think I just kissed one, and it didn't turn into a beautiful princess. Or it did but preferred another prince. Either way, this story doesn't have a happy ending. 

How does it happen that a guy misreads a girl so deeply? Like they're not just on different pages, they're not even reading the same book? Why aren't all people made the same way, that if they do one thing they all do it with the same intention? Why are feelings so hard to turn off when it counts, when the stakes are really high, so to speak; and easy when it doesn't? Why would two people be perfectly matched in EVERY little way except the one that matters the most? And these people who tell us to wear our hearts on our sleeves, have they really ever had their hearts broken? And why does the freaking sun come up at 4??? These are some of the things that run through my mind these days.

I met a girl. I didn't like her at first, because we met and then didn't again for a while. But then the next time I did. I think I fell for her. Hard. And I thought she felt the same way. We exchanged numbers. We watched stupid ads on youtube. We sat and talked deep into the night. We went out and stargazed. I showed her my life and she showed me the township she grew up in. I made her listen to the music in my heart and she made me listen to the music in hers. I cheered her on when she was in the exam room and she cheered me on when I was in the firing room. We went for pizza. We had Krushers. We played around with doors with chain locks. We saw a film. We unpacked our pasts to each other. We were ourselves around each other. We were happy together, we were sad together. We shared our dreams with each other. We sat next to each other in front of the fire heater. We held hands. We gave each other little presents. We thought about each other when something amazing happened and we weren't together. We made each other laugh. We had inside jokes. We shared poetry. We debated accents and philosophies. We built each other up. We took pictures of each other, with each other. We connected. We slept. We woke up late. We made plans.

It was all like walking through a field of hopes and dreams. I told my friends about her, she told her friends about me. It was like we were made for each other.

Only we weren't. Or apparently I wasn't made for her. It's like I've lost something I never really had. It's literally like when you take a picture with an old camera, and the shutter clicks so you know the picture's been taken, but the film does not go round so it ends up not being recorded.

I heard this on TV once, that perhaps we all give the best of our hearts uncritically to those who hardly think about us in return. While it's not fair to say the one I gave mine to hardly thinks about me, it damn near feels that way.

There's lots of stuff we endure as human beings. This awareness that we have been blessed with, I think it is both our greatest gift and our worst curse. Because of it rejection's gotta be the hardest thing we ever have to go through; because we know not just what it's like when we're going through it, but what it would have been like had we not been rejected. And it's not just me that thinks that. 30 million owners of Adele's record agree with me.

Michael Jordan had a lot to say about life. And rightly so, he led a pretty amazing one. He says he became who he was because for every shot he made he missed a hundred others, and yet he kept on shooting. You miss 100% of the shots you don't take, he said. And I ate it all up. I judged everyone who let opportunities pass them by because they were too afraid to try. I belittled people who weren't willing to risk it all. Asked them derisively what their last thought would be if they got hit by a bus the next day. But now I think different. Now, I'm thinking: when you've only got one shot to take, and you take it and you miss, what's the difference?

If you're one of those people that looks for a silver lining everywhere, here's the one in this situation: I'm writing again... Or at least I hope I am.

END

almost everything i wish i'd said the last time i saw you

Yesterday I heard some very disturbing stories about some people I'm supposed to care about. They make it so hard, and they keep me up nights so many times. I wish you could turn off love and it stays that way. But I have decided I will not get involved. If these people want to drive themselves into the ground, fine. We all grow old, don't we? We all suffer the consequences of our actions, don't we? At some point, you've gotta let go and let God deal with it, right?

I was trolling round the internet at the airport and I came across this verse by Holley Gerth. I really don't think I need to say anything more

Oh, we may not go to war.
But we fight…
for relationships
for dreams

We battle…
against illness
against discouragement

I think of you staring at the screen, perhaps feeling your strength is small.
Oh, yes, I know what that’s like.
But victory isn’t up to us.
And those words you sometimes hear?
“You’re not worth fighting for.”
They’re a lie. Nothing more.

This is the truth from the heart of One who calls you His own:
You are loved.
You are worth fighting for.
You are even worth dying for.

So go into your day, strong friend, knowing that nothing can defeat you.
You’ve already won.

END

nothing left to say but goodbye

The story of the prodigal son is a story of rebellion. It's the story of the son who rejected his father's upbringing. Went off on his own and led a wild life of adventure and anarchy. Did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Squandered everything, literally, spiritually, physically. When faced with failure and despair, he came back home, willing to do whatever to win back his father's favor. Here's the thing - in that story, he never at any point lost it. All he needed to do, as he found out, was come back and say he was sorry. And he'd have been taken back. This was in a parable. The father in the story was God. So I think it's safe to assume that if a thing like this ever happened in real life as described, two things would not happen: the father, being human, might be just a little less gracious; the prodigal son's not gonna be humble enough to realize when he's failed that he can come back and grovel.

Ever wondered what happens to a person to make them become a victim (in their head) of everything that happens to them? I have. Why would someone who could very easily have had it all, someone who did almost have it all, suddenly just stalk back and tell everyone who loved them to leave them alone. Someone who's old enough that this is not just ADD. Why would they go ahead and conclude that everyone's so ashamed of them it would be better if it was just assumed they didn't exist at all. If you were a parent, is there a tipping point? What would you do if that person was your child? If you'd done everything you thought possible, said everything you could think about, given and broken ultimatum after ultimatum, and still nothing. You know how they keep telling us love conquers all-is there be a time span after which we can conclude love has failed? 

"Asiyefunzwa na mamaye hufunzwa na ulimwengu" is a saying that I think is targeted at the mothers (teach your children) just as much as it's targeted at the kids (accept your mother's teachings). Just the mere fact that it exists should be evidence that any part of that system could fail.

Apparently, human cells regenerate once every seven years. Sorta like snakes shedding their skin. So when we say stuff like "People don't change," it must drive these scientists crazy. Because we're always changing in the most basic of ways. At any moment, we could suddenly be a whole new man. Like at any moment, we could have a whole fresh set of options, and second chances. Primal regeneration, however, has nothing to do with how we harness those chances. That needs to come from us. It needs to be a concious decision. And it needs to be made each and every day, for the rest of our lives.

So to this prodigal son, I'm at world's end. There's this guy who says that struggles and disappointments may be what keeps us going. That maybe we all need to mess up so we can step up. I sincerely hope that's true, and that it'll happen for you. Everything I wanna say has been said so eloquently by Sidewalk Prophets:

Last time we spoke,
You said you were hurting,
And I felt your pain in my heart,
I want to tell you,
That I keep on praying,
Love will find you where you are,
I know cause I've already been there,
So please hear these simple truths,


Be strong in the Lord and,
Never give up hope,
You're going to do great things,
I already know,
God's got His hand on you so,
Don't live life in fear,
Forgive and forget,
But don't forget why you're here,
Take your time and pray,
These are the words I would say

END

i love you but i've chosen darkness

I've seen a lot of nonsense over the years, from family and friends alike, and I'm the kind that tends to always want to believe the best in people so my expectations are always high. But I don't think I've ever been as disappointed in anyone as I was today. My idiot little brother went and got himself arrested by the police for the very same reason we've been speaking about since he was 4, and about which I thought a lot of progress had been made over the last few years: respect of people's property. It appears this time he chose the wrong woman whose stuff to play around with - she just happened to be a private investigator so luck wasn't on his side. She set a trap for him, came with the cops and had him arrested. He actually spent a night in there, and the whole of today. I meanwhile spent the whole day trying to get him out - meaning I ended up having to buy that woman a whole new video camera, coz I have to assume that fool lost it and he's just lying to everyone like he usually does. And my dad was such a doll - he flew in in about 50mins to help handle things later in the day as soon as I told him.

So no sooner has he chucked than he starts sending everyone all those messages about how today what I've seen has opened my eyes to the ways of my life, ooohhh I'm never going to behave the way I've been again, ooohhh I went through this I went through that. You know that crap annoys me even more, because this seems to be his only strong suite: apologising and committing to change. We've been here so many times before I can't even count them - he does something bad, something bad happens to him and then he says it's a wake-up call and he'll completely change. And he's the kind you can never tell when he's telling the truth and when he's not. And we've spent like a whole year without any incidents (although clearly not because this fiasco started last October, we just didn't know about it until yesterday) so that makes this seem that much worse - that we all thought so much progress had been made we'd even started trusting him again. Only for him to go slap all of us in the face and take us back right where we started 10 year ago. Just like that.

I can't for the life of me figure why it's not as obvious to him as it is to everyone else that the way he's living his life will end him up in ruins. Why he can only see the error of his ways in hindsight, never before he goes and messes up. And I don't know how many screw ups it'll take for him to learn and clean up his act. It's not that he doesn't know, he knows - you should really hear this boy making amends. What I do know, however, is that this for me was it. I've decided I won't spend my whole life worrying about someone who so clearly doesn't worry about himself. And I won't be taken advantage of. You know that unconditional love for families I was talking about? Ya, I don't think it's so unconditional any more - people just never reach its breaking point.

Remember when I first got the job many people would kill for, and then the dream went and changed so I started looking again, well today the other thing that happened is that I got the new dream job [thank you Lord!] - and it's really one of those ones [not just many people] everyone would kill for. This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life, and I can't even celebrate coz I'm on a massive downer. My hands aren't constantly shaking with joy like they should be; my heart's not doing cartwheels or skipping beats. All I'm thinking about is why it had to be me that got a brother like him. And that if I could walk away today I probably would. I don't know if I'm right or if I'm wrong, but this is one of those things you can't conjecture. You have to go through it to understand. Choosing the right path is never easy; it's a decision we make with only our hearts to guide us. So all I can do is ask that God takes care of that boy, because if this doesn't wake him up I don't know what will. But me... I honestly think I'm done. I love him but this time I'm choosing darkness.

END

the fine art of falling apart

Why do people grow apart? Ever had a large group of friends at a stage in life, like in school, or when you were living in that old estate, with whom you were so close there was nothing you used to do without one another? And you thought it would be like that for the rest of your lives? But as you got older and people's paths started to diverge you started to realise it was really just the geography holding you all together? That apparently even the strongest of friendships don't survive distance? And everything else in your life became invariably more important that these friends, so that you only noticed they were no longer around on that odd Saturday morning when you'd woken up a little too early and had nothing to do but stare at the roof and reminisce about the good old times? As it happens, I fear that may be happening to one of us. I've had four such groups in my life - one when I was a kid, one in high school and two in uni. Obviously the one for when I was a child died a natural death because that was pre-me becoming a geek and facebook and google wave and also us people moved towns, the one for high school got REALLY dialled back, and the two for uni one's still going strong and one, well...

When someone goes to your wall after five years and writes how it's been forever and how are you doing these days, what are you supposed to answer if that person wasn't just an acquaintance? I usually tell myself if they were really close they wouldn't have to ask that, and then I realise I don't know them that well any more and the whole stones and people living in glass houses thing kicks in, so I just say, "Good, it's been great. Work's killing me though. You?" and she says "Same here," and the countdown begins again for the next five-year interval when we'll check up on each other. Nothing about the lost grandmother, nothing about the recent burglary that left you at square zero, nothing about the decision to go back to school, nothing about finding a new house and moving in, or the break up that obliterated you for a while, or the new baby... we never actually go into all these specifics - all that stuff is just supposed to be covered by the single perfunctory line, "I'm good." Which, if you think about it, is true in a way, coz I mean, we're alive, it could always get worse.

We met recently, my uni group and I, and looking back I could tell the level of association had changed. No one wanted to know serious things about the other. It was just all on the surface - you wanna show interest coz it's been a while and you feel you're supposed to, but not enough that we'll actually talk about something that matters; or something that will require input from me, you know. The rest was all just disses which used to be my thing but seems to be what everyone does best these days. It's safe. And when it's all over we hug goodbye and go under again till the next time we'll run into each other on the streets, probably next year. And later you sit and you ask yourself what new things have I really learned about these people today and you find that you've got nothing. As it happens, you're no longer one another's rocks like you used to be. Everyone went ahead and they moved on. People go through stages and they grow and they change and the world still goes round, so you realise that maybe you should also do the same.

We seem to have gotten this growing apart thing down to a such fine art we don't even have to talk about it or synchronize any more, it just happens. And it affects nothing else in our lives. There's a song, originally by the Carpenters, called The End of The World:

Why does the sun go on shining
Why does the sea rush to the shore
Don't they know, it's the end of the world
Coz you don't love me any more

Why do the birds go on singing
Why do the stars glow above
Don't they know, it's the end of the world
It ended when you said goodbye

If only that was how it worked... Anyway, right now I'm just reminiscing coz I'm idle. I probably won't notice this again till the next random person comes knocking on my profile, asking how I've been doing since we last met in 1999! "Good, really good," I shall answer, "How 'bout you?"

END