10
Nov
09

Another day in Paradise

There’s this way I drive, when I’m thinking about it but not over-thinking it, that feels like my car is gliding over the asphalt like an ice skater and all I feel is the gentle bob of my suspension as I leave a swirling cloud of dust and leaves in my wake.

 

 

It felt that way driving to work this morning, listening to Silversun Pickups and laughing with J-Rab. I just had this feeling this morning when I woke up like everything, everything is going to be ok, everything is going to work out and the universe is turning perfectly the way it should.

There were bad vibes back there for awhile. The months of August and September seemed to just bring one disaster after another. In August I wrote my car off, that unbearable sound of steel against steel, that gut-wrenching ‘bang’ of two cars colliding that you hear for weeks afterwards.

There was always something that put me off about cars, even before I started driving, and it  wasn’t until my first accident that I realised it’s the way cars look after they’ve crashed. The way the metal twists and bends in jagged hunks. It looks like a death-trap.

 

 

But that’s all behind me now, this was supposed to be a happy post, no talk of death traps today 🙂

Outside the rain has finally abated and the world feels clean and new. I love that fresh, electric feeling, reminds me of a time back at varsity when I stripped naked and climbed on our roof in the middle of a massive thunderstorm and just stood up there, arms open, scaring the traffic and watching sheet after sheet of heavy rain fall in curtains over the valley that is Grahamstown.

Crazy times I tell you, we live in crazy times.

 

 

Back in the real world we’re exactly one day away from the insanity that is the FNB Whisky Live Festival. I’m pretty damn excited for it to start – we handle the PR for it and so for the last two months all it’s been is WhiskyLiveWhiskyLiveWhiskyLive.

Enough foreplay I say, time for action.

In other news, I’m trying to bang out another short story cause I didn’t post one yesterday. Why can’t this be my job? If this was my job it would be easy as pie and I’d love it and I could write butt-loads of content every day and it would be really solid stuff, not like the rush jobs I am forced to hammer out because there’s always something else I should be doing.

Why is that?! I mean, let the kid write fer chrissakes! He’s got that deep down crazy magic, let it out!

Let it out 😉

Maybe I should smash another cup of coffee… hmmm… not a bad idea… that’ll jump start my system…

**************10 MINS LATER******************

AAAAHHHHHHH!! Rad! Where was I?! Oh ya, I was getting into my idiom! Like in Monty Python’s Quest For The Holy Grail when Sir Lancelot storms into the castle and slays the fuck out of everyone!

I get these ideas sometimes, crazy wild ideas that need to be put down on paper or they run riot in my head, it’s like seeds on a jungle floor all tangled in the roots and moistened by the moss, they sprout and grow up big and mean.

 

 

That jungle, it’s fucking murder in there. It goes deep and wild and the things that slither and lurk and growl inside are monsters, all of them, and at night, in my darkest dreams I hear them killing and feeding, their matted fur viscous and shiny with blood.

You’d think this murderous scene would be one of misery and remorse and guilt, but you’re wrong, it’s one of joy and sheer, maniacal happiness. They’re animals in there, they’re fucking wild, born to kill and fuck.

I couldn’t imagine a happier place in the world than the jungle in my mind.

I’d take you for a visit, but let’s be honest, you wouldn’t last one goddamn minute in there 😉

-ST

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