miniography part1 (424 hits)
Category: GeneralRating: 2 on 5 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by matchoo (View user info) at 2004-12-07 04:03:54 EST
It's only been about three years since I left Cape Town.
It all really began one morning after a huge party in town. I was perched at my favourite comedown spot on signal hill, sitting a good hundred metres down from the car park. Voyeuristic as I may be, there is nothing appealing about watching cars rocking to-and-fro in their own semi-synchronised dance, windows steaming up to hide their occupants from the morning light.
There is something beautifully calming about a pre-dawn morning over the city, lights changing colour amongst the shadows, stretching down to where they touch the waters of the Atlantic. I could almost feel the bite of the water, hear the sound of the shore-break smoothing the sand. Any other time I wouldn't have minded company, but I was not in the mood for the pill-talk, the empty crap that usually makes me feel so good.
Letting my eyes play tricks with me as my thoughts turned, I watched shapes forming in the sprawling infrastructure out below me. Neon signs blurry with the distance, grey apartment blocks with a smattering of lights, people with the same nocturnal habits as me... I thought of house parties in Camps Bay, fishbowl lights and sheer skirts, smeared coke on formica tops. Women like juddering outlines in lipstick, hair and laughter. Ever-present drugs raging through my system, blurring the line between judgement and fantasy. Trying to be something, anything except the person who can only feel real when he's out of focus. The façade of a person who changes from stylish partier to ordinary living, breathing and hurting drone in the daylight.
There is no space for superman complex these days. I try, but there is always a limit to how easily you can fool yourself into thinking that your light shines a little brighter. It becomes a little more difficult every time to top-up, get back that immortal feeling. Law of diminishing returns? Ghost memories of economics lectures at UCT sneak back to me occasionally, not allowing themselves to be consigned to that part of the brain that tries so hard to lie to me, to tell me that the only important thing is the party, the here and now. Left alone they'll eventually go away, fuck off for ever, but the masochistic part of me brings them back, the small life-boat in my head still desperately trying to pick up survivors.
User Reviews
Submitted by phuzzygish (user info) at 2005-01-14 09:11:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Rocking. God I miss Cape Town.
Submitted by hairycoo (user info) at 2005-01-14 06:33:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by wookie (user info) at 2004-12-07 09:42:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2004-12-07 09:39:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Sexcellent.
Submitted by TigerLilly (user info) at 2004-12-07 08:41:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This was good. I like your style.