Hang me out to dry

You said you wouldn't mind if I never spoke to you again. That if we never saw each other again, it would be all right with you. I answered that it could be arranged.

You make the fault of wanting me to be an ideal you have experienced in film and other friendships. But I am not your friend. I am your blood. There is nothing you can change about it. So stop trying to blame me for the non-existence of a friendship. Stop complaining about who I am not: I am not the one to come to when deciding between 20 pairs of shoes. I don’t want to go shopping with you. I don’t want to hear about your martial art. I don’t care about any of them. I care about you as a person in my life, not as a series of everyday choices to consult on.

But where are you now? Where is the person who was seen as a leader? Where is the person who could give great advice? Where is the person that went out dancing in white heels? I ask you now: what have you become but a shell of previous attachments? I know that as much as you cannot change me, I cannot change you. But there must be more to your life than this. You must have more ambition than this.

So please stop blaming me for your current situation. Stop taking it out on me when you have twosome issues. Stop comparing me to another, who is part of your DNA too: our halves were just mixed contrarily. We are as alike as we are different. We used to like similar things. Now everything has changed. Now I care as little as you do.

We were never the picture of filial perfection. But far away I could talk to you because you had a life that continued. Here you are stuck and you are of no interest any longer. Just as I won’t eat what does not taste well to me, I will not associate myself with boredom, with the acceptance of mediocrity. Perhaps this striving for more is a hindrance, there is not always a better or bigger or faster, but on occasion one must try harder.

I know my faults. All of you have this tendency to not be shy about pointing about my faults. Heaven forbid though that your flawlessness might be questioned. You are no diamond either.

My suggestion: look to your own faults before focussing on mine. Maybe I am the reason for your continued unhappiness. Perhaps you contribute to mine. I choose now not to care about these qualms anymore. Let’s keep our issues separate, let’s not continuously denounce the other, and hopefully then I will love you not out of the obligation associated with the vermillion in my veins, but rather because I actually like who you are.      

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i ♥ books

I like the way they smell. My Paradise Lost smells like no one has looked at it in centuries. And then that new book smell. The excitement that comes with discovering the knowledge books contain. The other day I was sitting in the library, looking through some design books, and it hit me: here I was, surrounded by knowledge.   We might be discovering new things daily, advances are made, but none would happen without the previous knowledge, and util recently, that knowledge was stored in books.

So now the digital advent has changed the need for books. Why carry around a brick when you can carry around the lightness of a kindle. I understand the argument that it is more practical to have information stored digitally, that it is more environmentally safe perhaps, that the screen still looks like a real book. But one cannot replace that smell. One cannot walk into an on-line library and be astounded by the immensity of what people have written. A digital file does not compare to the actual words on the actual page. I don't even consider blogging to be proper writing. It has to be done, pen on paper.

So I like my books. I like being able to take one down, open any page, read a bit. I like being lost in a world of my imagination.

But here is another guy I like : Brian Dettmer ( I found him here )

He is known as the "book surgeon" because he forms fantastical pieces of art out of old encyclopaedias and other books.
Here are some examples. Marvellous, aren't they.

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Let's go on a break

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I'll think about you for $1.

I stumbled onto this:

Thinking About You for One Minute $1 


You will be thought of for one minute. An e-mail will be sent to you when the thinking starts and when it ends. If you wish, you may send details about yourself, but it is not necessary. 


I wonder if anyone ever takes him up on his offer. And how does one know if he really thought about you? 
What does an email really confirm? 


How much money do you think people could make if they were paid for thinking about others. Perhaps that is an idea for charity: merely by thinking about the suffering in the world, some signal would be sent to some database where for every thought sponsors would donate a specific amount of money. That would be cool: saving the world one thought at a time.

It would make one more aware of the different disasters as well. Perhaps the charity itself would be quite a failure: what if everyone thinks only about Japan and puppies, and forgets that rhinos are being slaughtered and Pakistanis are drowning in continuous floods. And what if no one wants to think of the bad? Not everyone can be an emokid. Moreover, they only think of their own suffering. And in order to count the thoughts, a thought-police would have to be established. Hello 1984. So perhaps not.

Strange how with so much to be depressed about, our brain is still wired for optimism.
Check out the Time article here.



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Lessons Learned

This time courtesy of Gunda. Because she gives great advice.

via iamsohip

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Positioning myself

I have thought about this post since I started blogging, because I think about it every night when I can't find a comfortable position to fall asleep. When in the fetus position, I don't know what to do with my arms. Do you just stretch them out to the side, forming a little "r" ? Sometimes I'll put one under the pillow and one over the blanket, but in summer the mosquitoes ( just an aside, I would have spelt it mosquitos, but spell-check says it ends in -toes. Who knew) relentlessly attack that one arm. So recently I have started sleeping in a position I like to call "The Ball". You hug yourself and pull your legs up into your stomach area whilst on your side. Mainly I do it because my room is really cold and before the duvet is warmed up I freeze a little. 


I tried "The Vampire", when you're on your back with your hands folded across your chest, but it just seems like fake-sleeping to me, you know, the way they show people sleeping in films. 


Apparently your sleeping position says a lot about your personality. 

 from the BBC

Apparently Prof Idzikowski examined people's sleeping positions in order to determine if they related to their personalities and to check if any position is more prone to health problems. 

Here are his personality-results: 

The Foetus: Those who curl up in the foetus position are described as tough on the outside but sensitive at heart. They may be shy when they first meet somebody, but soon relax.This is the most common sleeping position, adopted by 41% of the 1,000 people who took part in the survey. More than twice as many women as men tend to adopt this position.

Log (15%): Lying on your side with both arms down by your side. These sleepers are easy going, social people who like being part of the in-crowd, and who are trusting of strangers. However, they may be gullible.

The yearner (13%): People who sleep on their side with both arms out in front are said to have an open nature, but can be suspicious, cynical. They are slow to make up their minds, but once they have taken a decision, they are unlikely ever to change it.

Soldier (8%): Lying on your back with both arms pinned to your sides. People who sleep in this position are generally quiet and reserved. They don't like a fuss, but set themselves and others high standards.

Freefall (7%): Lying on your front with your hands around the pillow, and your head turned to one side. Often gregarious and brash people, but can be nervy and thin-skinned underneath, and don't like criticism, or extreme situations.

Starfish (5%): Lying on your back with both arms up around the pillow. These sleepers make good friends because they are always ready to listen to others, and offer help when needed. They generally don't like to be the centre of attention.
It also found that only one in ten people like to be covered entirely by their blanket. I must admit, in winter I like to be all rolled up in blankets. Hundreds of blankets. I want to be like those sausage rolls covered in pastry. I want to be a blanket-roll.

Naturally, one also has to think of snakes when going to bed. Every night I check that there are no snakes coiled up under my bedding. The blanket-roll also prevents them from slithering in when I am asleep. So it is quite protective as well.

If you are interested, here is a link to someone who takes the whole sleeping-position-analysis a step further and connects it to your zodiac sign...

So how to you sleep at night?



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I can hear you

You know when people ask the question what superpower you would like to have? And often, the answer is invisibility, so that you could spy on people and find out what they say about you behind your back?

Well, I am invisible. You do not see me. But I can hear everything you say. Jeez you must be dumb to talk about me in front of my window. I can hear you. Loud and clear. 

And it is rather fascinating. We all gossip. But we all think that no one talks about us behind our backs. I don't necessarily mean only the mean things, only the things that make you feel better about yourself, but also the nice things, the compliments you were afraid to pay. 

So at the moment you are not being mean. You are rather being unnecessary. I apologised. I know when I am wrong. Take it and do with it what you will. But don't be this stupid and talk about it when I can hear you. Moerse apologetic se gat. 

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Choices

Today I was faced with choices in each of my classes.
Paradise Lost is ( as far as I have learned today) based on the choice of whether Christ or Satan is the hero, on whether God could have chosen to forgive sin and then Jesus would not have had to die for us. Admittedly, I have not yet read more than some passages, so Paradise Lost is still quite a mystery to me.

Then in French, again, a choice: is it necessary to tear down old buildings to make space for new ones? Do we need to destroy past artefacts in order to build our own, contemporary legacy over it? I think this is different in South Africa, when we compare our city structures with those in Europe. We have a lot more space. We tend to build in rings around a centre, and the further away from the centre, the better ( meaning more $$$$$$). And we like building repetitive enclosures, little Truman Show's. Perhaps crime has forced people to live in their own little prisons, but I think instead of trying to shut out the world, we should (have) fought. We should have said: I am not willing to live like this. I am not willing to build walls and security gates and live in a place where people cannot come to visit me because they need to prove their blood type before being allowed to enter. I remember I once dropped my friend off at her house, but because we went in with her security tag, I could not get out with the password she gave me. So she had to come and speak to the night guard and it took forever to get out. Tsss. I can understand that the guards are just doing their job and that crime creates jobs (haha) and so on, but if there were less crime, maybe people would find jobs not protecting others, but rather helping others. We could all help a little more.

Anyway. Next class. Visual Communication. And Art History. I always leave these classes questioning what I have thought before. And not in that fake "who am I? oh I'll just read some Baudrillard to relax"-way. More in the: hmm. I have never thought about that way of seeing the world. Interesting. After every class I have more choices to make. More ways of approaching everyday encounters. I am glad I choose these subjects. People think, ag, art history. Michaelangelo and that. How will you ever find a job?! But I think, economics? engineering? You will always only see a formula that needs to be followed. Perhaps you will think outside the box, but you will always see a problem that needs solving. Hopefully I will not see the world in terms of problems. Hopefully I will see it in terms of people, of reactions, of emotions, of a reality that is not mine. I do not know exactly where I am going with this.

So on to French. Again. Thursdays are wonderful for my French. Here the choice concerned press freedom and the media tribunal that the government wanted to create. I am glad that so many opposed it. The freedom to choose what to write about, what to report on, is integral to any democracy. I mean, once you start censoring, where do you stop? And who decides? People argue that some things should not be spoken about, but is that not then your choice to react to it? The information should be available to those who want it.

That is it for now. A bit of rambling. Today was just such a good day for thinking.



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Lessons Learned

Here is the full quote:

"Die meisten Menschen legen ihre Kindheit ab wie einen alten Hut. 

Sie vergessen sie wie eine Telefonnummer, die nicht mehr gilt.

Früher waren sie Kinder,

dann wurden sie Erwachsene,

aber was sind sie nun?

Nur wer erwachsen wird und ein Kind bleibt, ist ein Mensch."

Erich Kästner

24. May 2011

Oh I forgot to translate it : 

"Most people discard their childhood like an old hat. 

They forget it like a telephone number which is no longer valid. 

In the past, they were children,

then they became adults,

but what are they now?

Only those that grow up and still stay children are human." 

I like this quote because I think it is so easy to forget that simple things can be fun. When you were little, a new toy or licking the bowl your mother had mixed cookies in was the greatest joy. When you went to a party, it was the lucky packet and the cake and the candles and the games that were important. It was running around in the garden and playing with your siblings. 

Nowadays children are separated from these simple pleasures : they want Xboxes and ipods and a virtual reality. They want to sit in front of the damn television and watch Justin Bieber on MTV.

I find it all slightly disturbing. We are imposing a technological world on someone who has no real choice. Hell, children in Germany thought cows were purple because the Milka (chocolate) cow is purple. Kids in grade 1 with iPhones. Kids wanting things things things things things things. 

I still like watching the sky and playing boardgames and blowing soap bubbles. I still like licking out the bowl. I still like the naiveté with which children see the world.  




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Votela

I hope everyone used their democratic right to vote today. I know it is only municipal, but maybe this is more important than the national elections? After all, we do not all reside with the president. He has not issues with trash collection, with pension payouts, with shelters, with hospitals and clinics, with parks, with Metro Police or with roadworks. What does the president do? Represent the country overseas? Make new laws? Get married? But he does nothing really for the everyman. Correct me if I am wrong here, I have a strong dislike for politics and laws and what one may or may not do, so it is highly possible that my opinion is quite ungrounded. But by Zuma's last couple of years of rule, he does not do much.

My friend wanted to do something today. I asked if he went to vote. He said no. Vote or don't, that is your choice. But then do not complain afterwards that something is not to your liking. And he does not. He does not complain. He just accepts. This is the indifference in Generation Y that just pisses me off. We care about ourselves and nothing more. We care about clothes and music and movies and things that are replaceable, but we care nothing about the next generation. Everybody campaigns for climate change and global warming and saving the rhinos, but in the end we do nothing. We buy the R10 bag at Woolworths. We throw money at problems that require action.

And that is why I did not want to meet my friend. Everytime I see him, I have the feeling he judges me for studying, for working hard to get my degree. I don't go to Soweto on Fridays in a taxi because I don't feel like it. Not because I am afraid to. I don't get wasted and drive because I like to live. I don't read Nietzsche or Marx or whomever is cool to the coolkids because I don't care to. I live the life I want the way I want, so please, person, stop thinking your eccentricities make you interesting to anyone but yourself. A cliché can only survive for so long. Go hang around with your coolkid tjommas and live your coolkid life and spend it trying to be some Jay-Jays clad ideal.

I voted.If nothing changes, that is ok. If something does, that is fine to. I don't go around chaining myself to trees and recycling my toilet paper, but this is a start. If this generation just set their mind to it, I am pretty sure we could collectively save the world. We could all wear tiaras and capes. But if the mememe of it all does not change, neither will the world.



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Rock Paper Scissors

from here

Hope you had a happy day. 

If not, I hope this cheers you up a little.

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Wertewelten 2010

This is a story I wrote for a competition in 2010. You might recognise yourself in some of it.

Here is the link to the pdf.
Wertewelten 

Let me know what you think.
I would change it now. Perhaps I have become desensitised. Perhaps the break-in made me not see people anymore.  Perhaps I saw the one beggar boy on the corner of the N4 and Duncan get in a truck with other people and driving away happily. You know the one, the crying one. With him it seems like an act to me.

There are two other boys near the university. They made these boards where they cut a square hole in the cardboard and wrote YouTube over it. They can have my money. Even though it makes me wonder how street urchins know about YouTube.


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i ♥ you

To some people it comes very easily to say that they love someone. It seems natural to them to slip the three words in at the end of a phone conversation or when saying goodbye. The other day I was standing in the queue at Pick 'n Pay and observed a woman and her daughter telling the dad that they were going to another shop while he was paying and that they would meet him somewhere afterwards. When they had almost left the store, the girl and the mother both turned around and told the father that they loved him. And he then said : " I love you too my darlings." and smiled.

It was weird to me: they would be seeing each other in a few minutes. I think saying that one loves someone is a big deal. It is a commitment to that person. It is telling them that you give them a piece of your heart. Just like that. They can have it.

So saying it too often to me steals its significance. Perhaps others feel that one has to say it often to affirm the love one feels. And one has to hear it often to be secure of the other's devotion. Or that a child needs to hear it frequently to feel safe and, well, loved. I don't know. I can understand how this family wanted to make sure each one knew they were loved. I can understand how my friend always tells her sisters she loves them because she has lost others close to her. I can understand why my mother says it. I can understand saying ILY. But I cannot understand the feeling, because to me there are different types of love. The way family loves is different from friends, which in turn is different from passionate love.

Humans are obsessed with love. We sing about it. We write poetry about it. We devote entire oeuvres to a feeling that cannot be defined equally for each. We love to ♥.

Maybe I cannot understand it because I cannot box it in and store it away in my mind. Perhaps I cannot understand it because as often as it is true, it is also a lie.

Je t'aime. Te amo. Ek is lief vir jou. Ich liebe dich. I love you. Hmm.

It does not matter how many languages I learn, I cannot say it.
Which does not mean that I don't.



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Lessons Learned

Family

My grandmother has come for a visit. I do love her, but after about 500000 cups of tea and her mood swings, I start to despise her. Misery and pessimism seep into the air you breathe when she sits down. You feel disheartened. If she is what I'll end up as, why live at all? If this is the reward for living, what is the point? There is no dying happily, embraced by your better half. There is no pain-free end. Life is not celluloid.

I have to remind myself : she is 82 ( I think). I should be nice. I should kill her with kindness. By becoming so old, she deserves my respect. I am nothing without her. But it irritates me to have to keep my mouth shut and my opinions to myself, out of fear of offending her. The old are fragile. Do not try to change them. You cannot teach an old dog new tricks. 

No, you can't. But hell, the world evolves. Even if you don't like it, you must acknowledge that you cannot stay stuck in a mindset not suited to a modern era.

My grandmother proves you can. Many people seem to not want to adapt to any change. I presume it is out of fear. The young can face hardship. The young can suffer for longer. However, when you are old, how much more can you take? How many more aches? How many disappointments? 

I forget that you were young once. I forget that you were me, 60 years ago. 

Then I look at you again. Sunken skin. Match-stick legs. A slight hunch. Crooked hands. Two holes in the bottom row of teeth. You almost died last year. I thought you would. 

We are driving and I have been disappointed in you for 200 km. I feel you are not a movie-grandmother. I believe you do not try to feel anything positive any more. I feel you have forgotten what happiness is. 

A hand is touching my shoulder. A peeled slice of apple lies in your hands, reaching in between the two front seats. That is all I need to forgive you for being like this now. That is all I need to acknowledge your own suffering: it must be hard not to be able to remember where you placed your toothbrush. Or that you should pack warm clothes. Or that we just had tea.  

Ouma. Moenie worry nie. Eintlik weet ek jy's meer as wat jy nou wys.