As solutions can have a non-zero electrical charge called ions, I too have been in limbo for a while. After a much anionic (negative charge) slump it feels good to be doing cationic (positive charge) things. In this creative way of using science and its terminology I am grinning all silly like. What I am getting to is that I walked today and forced myself to tackle the laundry at home, concluding the day at an NA meeting. It was a rather strange observation for me about myself, being in the group. I have changed!

Let me explain.

One of my personal frustrations with groups is well….other people are in it. And I simply have to consider another’s experience and interpretation of things as they must mine as personal. Herein lies the frustration…….my ‘Mr Fixit’ kicks in so valiantly. I opened up about my needing to be in a group of like-minded people as I was finding it depressing doing recovery alone. I need social interaction that is non threatening. Loneliness can push a person to the brink of relapse. After-all a big part of my being is a people’s person.

Sharing was cool.

What was interesting about my being there was that I have changed so much over the last year. The usual feelings of being intimidated and insecure were hardly traceable. Gladly the topic of the negative voice in ones mind and people-pleasing came up. I shared how over the last year my pendulum has swung from extreme loneliness to people-pleasing by such degrees that some times I felt like a prisoner in my own home because I would put up with behavior that negated me and my space. What I am saying, in short, is that I over-compensated my feelings of loneliness by putting up with another’s disrespectful behavior just so that I had company.

Dumb right?

When put into words it is; when one is caught up in it it is less obvious and if it is such, even less the inclination to change it. Most of us don’t want to bust ourselves and to top it with admitting our inability to course correct….lol….right? I would be frustrated and be angry at the world at large because I didn’t get the ‘love’ I craved. Well sugarplum, I made it easy to be disrespected because I didn’t know what I wanted in the damn first place darlin’! I guess in each of us this tug of war between being authentic vs accepted pulls on our heart strings. As much as I have done 80% of the right things over the last year it has meant that as I built up my ability to stand on my own two feet, and trust me I have done well, and not depend on others to be my co-dependent crutch I have been lonely. It is the natural order of things. Many a professional athlete might tell the same story of sacrifice for the sake of goals.

Often people will say to me that I shouldn’t isolate myself from the world who may not have the life crushing issues of addiction as I do. They are correct. Where the danger comes in is that a drunk friend soon forgets that another cannot drink and the pressure to have a, “just one shot….look how small this glass is….come on….just one….stop being a ball-breaker,” and the resolution to be strong is attacked until all resistance crumbles. Years gone by many the resistance oft has dissipated on the way home and via where no-one is watching, behind drawn curtains and locked doors.

Pride can be a good thing in public as it can be the mast by which pretension hides a wavering mind.

It felt good yesterday to be able to drop my guard and speak freely; be freely and not be carrying the baggage named ‘not-good-enough’. Wow I have changed a shit load this year. Incredible!

With my independence hanging on by an absolute thread, my hope in my Higher Power, my little action plan in place and my slow but steadfast stepping in the right directions I am reminded, unfortunately, that ‘Rome isn’t built in a day’. Unless of course someone dies and one inherits a fortune or a lucky Lotto has ones name on it. For the rest of us we each need to do what we can and must. The rest will be. To those that lent a financial hand in a time when I struggled to even get out of bed… THANK YOU!

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As I gear my own mindset towards doing and being better than 2017 remembering that my life, their lives, your life is a personal journey that will take us to death to fight for.

I wish you a fabulous year ahead with sensational victories. God knows I need more good news than last year.

So if like me one feels somewhat ionic (non-zero charge) then that is a wonderful place to start. It takes just a teeny-weeny bit of cationic action to raise the energy levels to game ready.

On your marks!

Get set!



Stay your amazing self!




A bit of Turkey stuffing

A bit of funky on Mixcloud quips this tongue-in-cheek blog with just the right flavour. Enjoy!

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Catching a bit of vitamin d baking my stuffing and stuffing the stuff that stuffs up the stuff…….at least mentally anyway)

With Christmas and New Year kitsch behind us, the messages, guilt, and phony platitudes spewed beyond ad nauseam gone; reflux tastes better. Before you get all uppity about my opening remarks and whatever else will follow know I also succumbed to sending messages. God I hate it. I tried my best to say something quirky and sincere but because it is so commercialized that what is a daily, normal sincerity for many smacks of bullshit because of the number of randoms, completely misplaced. Saying, being, doing nice things should not be forced upon anyone because of a season but should be a natural order of how we live! No, I don't have a heart of stone but the gallant of the holiday season is so trite that I cannot bear it. Perhaps one day, God willing and best he does, I might be able, when money is a minor consideration, to do a true anonymous random act of kindness that means something to someone. I am so grateful for the help I got over the festive season as I really needed it and the minimal fuss was truly gifted. I cannot say thank you enough. Gosh, I really wish that I had had strength to endure the year a bit more than I did, the start of 2018 might not have reached it's inevitable sprint. Alas I just couldn't. Too much, too little and just too too. From my faith perspective I simply cannot buy into the absolute horror of a season dedicated to the birth of my said faith group and the pomp at which we unashamedly tint the tinsel to match. I just can't. I have worked fastidiously at avoiding this season as I cannot bear the falsities and worst yet the manner in which yearly applaud given for a job well done. It has to be my absolute worst character defect…. I don't brown-nose well. It makes me feel like a whore and if I want to feel that way, well hun there are far more satisfying methods that can be deployed. With this having being said, a wry smile turns to the glint in my eye as I hear the thoughts rush past my lips: "Wonder who is going to be offended by this piece of my mind now?" "Speak your truth," they say, "Be yourself." What an absolute crock of blah blah blah. Lately every time I open my mouth, try discuss things that really matter to me somebody somewhere is offended. I just can't take the paradoxical irony. Us people tend to like the truth as long as is it not our own. Right?

(A personal prayer….Dear God I beg you, please can I make enough money this year to go somewhere on holiday for the entire festive season that I don't have to face any of it. Where true, genuine and human connection is untainted by overrated & overpriced marketing induced seasonal psychosis….. please.)

Now that I have regurgitated that out of my system after a long season political niceties I can breathe again.

I am not a miserable kinda guy at all. In fact I am so up, usually, that I am too much for people. Fact! But this year end trivia gives me a hernia, constipation and dizzy spells all at once. Sadly I missed a really fabulous Christmas lunch invite due to stuff…damn it! Stuuuuuuuuuuuuufffff?!?!

I just cannot understand how people think it is is cool to rip people off, con them, lie, cheat and or steal throughout the year and then think a bit of gift wrap will hide the atrocities of what us humans are being. But in the face of being the second day of 2018 by 35 minutes, let me not get started on humanity……lol. Myself included, just in-case you are flippantly muttering, "who does this bitch think it is….lol?"

What I really want to get to is the gift that would have truly made my day, season and perhaps a couple of years. Beyond the stuffing stuff!

The movie, 'Home Again', with Reece Witherspoon really revved up my motor. It happens in the end, around the dinner table and the movie concludes with a satisfying gulp of romanticism. It leaves me with the thought, "When will I get to a point with others, where beyond the stuff happens?" You know what I mean right? That place of you are you, I am I and together the we is a special place without the stuff stuffing us up individually!

I would like a season where the sex, the power struggles, the fake politeness, the can't stand eachother, and the spite is worked through enough to get to where the amusing appreciation without expectations of another lay. You know the stuff that gets in the way before genuine and authentic mayhem lay and awaits the brave who venture beyond the humanity we all fall privy to? Yes, that place. Each relationship of whatever kind has this stuff. Perhaps my idealistic persona has kicked in but I want this place where 'it-is-what-it-is' is a harmonious flow of human interaction that respects the 'it-is' instinctively. I know it exists as I have that kind of relationship with my Higher Power and have kissed this nirvana with a few humans in my 43 years on this planet. I know that I am loved flaws and all. And my understanding of these relationships is that there is a connection. And connectivity is what we all crave, I think? I mean why else sugarplums would the world of cyber connectivity be such a competitive and multi-billion income industry? But is cyber connectivity any actual connection at all? Mmmmmmmm?

So having cleared the verbal/mental phlegm clogger out of my brain, I don walking shoes deciding that this blog will fall where it will and those that take offense must simply do so! I mean let's get offended by world hunger for crying out loud.

So end this mind clearing blog I sincerely do wish; for you and myself:

Your truth whatever it may be, may you get beyond the stuff that holds you back. May your relationships be richer and colourful; your experiences more deeply satisfying. May kindness pave your way and joy drive you as the sun, moon and stars kiss your eyes looking forward to the blessing of life in hands/heart and mind. May 2018 find wisdom in action as purpose unfolds clearly with minimal doubt.

Be blessed and the blessing.

Happy New Year!


Stay your amazing self!





(reminded of the fun from my new year celebration with friends who cared for me that I would not stray, I smile that a little fun can cure an overwhelmed heart)


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TONY FUENTES from Barcelona <<
is the first hours of what each of us hope will be a better year but since waking today and wracking my brain as to what I can do to turn a ripple effect event into a positive. Not to bring the past baggage into 2018, but for the sake of context, a scam months ago has almost crushed my independence as a baby entrepreneur. Rightly or wrongly I reached out on social-media out of sheer desperation. Although some kindness was extended which got me through the December slump, thank God, much more still needs to be done to pull my independence from the quicksand.


watching the Koi from the dinner table on the deck at a friends house, I realized how much beauty I have missed out on beating myself up for being scammed and near destroyed…. time to swim and get on with it!)

So I flipped my despondency onto itself and after much ongoing continuous prayer, frustrated wallowing and introspection I have put a mental game plan into action.

1) Extending a call to mentorship to a more experienced businessperson in my field, which I hope will be positively received, I accepted that I genuinely need guidance to improve my business game plan.

2) As much as I hate it, I am missioning myself to make sober friends at NA. I hate big groups but I guess for the sake of not being lonely and limited funds this free and like-minded group is a must for my mental wellness.

3) Doing some form of exercise: I can walk and do push-ups and sit-ups etc at home that won't cost money.

With this very basic proactive list the lease of life seems a little brighter. Years ago when I first moved into my own home again after a long long time, there were days that the only thing I could do to distract myself from going nuts was to clean my home. I would constantly repeat to myself: "God thinks that I am worth it."

So as I get my home back into order after a long period of depressing frustration I get back onto my little pony and try to fight my way back to a more hopeful future. Each of us may have for different reasons been bullied by circumstances from 2017, but I commit to get into the bloodied ring and try again.


In the uber…. the metaphor is a simple but startling one… eyes forward)

Will you?

Watching the Anna Nicole Smith story yesterday I was struck with the fighter she was when she was young and how circumstances lead her to a place where choosing a destructive path seemed to be her only option. I don't want to be another stat.


Stay your amazing self!




Setting the record straight is rough and tough simultaneously. Inspiring me to write this blog, ‘A Christmas Cruise’, the standout lesson is about having fun whilst betting on oneself. Being me, argumentative, I find myself both perplexed and frustrated simultaneously. Although I know that schmaltzy Hollywood stories are not real life but the tug for it to be so is real enough that I just cry. Now before you roll your eyes in your head at me let me at least try clarify. Living an online life has afforded me the ability to be exposed, thus a great amount of critical examination from people at large is inevitable. It helps push me to keep getting up when everything in me just wants a break from it all. The crossover is the hard part. Going from online to actually engaging others in the flesh all my inadequacies flair up. It is for this that more often than not I retreat. My Christmas invitations were passed up by a catastrophic event where I ended up being saddled with an utter stranger. What should have been an easy thing to fix turned out to be a two day stint of me playing host. The crazy thing is that I couldn’t stand this person’s guts. I am not being judgmental. Because of an unfortunate crises I was put into the position to nurture this person while alternative arrangements, slow to be made, eventually got done. The constant demand to be catered to drove me insane. But a wonderful spotlight has been shone and like an actor on center stage I am compelled to ask myself why I find it so hard to gamble on me. I know this seems quite hypocritical as I run my own little business but the truth is that I do what I do for others and secondary is myself. This explains why I get so exhausted trying to keep people happy that eventually I feel depleted and angry simultaneously.

Simultaneously? So much of my life is contradiction. Not deliberately, naturally. I hate that I love others more than me. I feel bad when I laugh at the innocent expense of another. I enjoy my own space but hate being lonely. I thrive on attention but crave anonymity. The lists go on. Work this one out, I like surprises but want to know they are coming. Either I am a totally dependable or completely elusive. All these contradictions run through me and I don’t know from moment to moment which side of the coin will kick in.

So my indirect Christmas gift has turned out to be a great one. I need to change some things.

As I look back on 2017 I am grateful that I survived, barely but survived. I moved homes and started my rent-a-chair, lost my car, lost a relationship and a best friend, lost friends to suicide, got bitten by a spider that ended up with me needing physiotherapy as I pulled muscles in my back, relapsed, got scammed, got robbed, moved my working space and got my heart stomped on again. A work colleague said, “Shit, you are like a magnet.” It has bugged me the whole day. Clients have said I need to become selfish or self-full and perhaps a little mean. I need to start having some fun whilst betting on myself. My kindness is costing me more than I should be willing to share…. I am coming up short.


Let me explain the incalculable cost of calculable choices.

Although sometimes devastating, as people can actually die in relapse, relapse is not the end of the world. I am not condoning relapse. I am saying that picking oneself up and facing the music is even more important than beating oneself up for letting ones sobriety slide. The consequence is that one loses cred and trust is hard to earn back again. Financially, the strain means making tough choices to survive which in turn creates pressure. A recovering addict needs to observe good health, good relationships, good lifestyle choices, good rest. But I have done ok and I am proud that I survived.

Claiming my independence by taking responsibility for myself through my rent-a-chair business has been tough. But I am getting better at it and I am proud of that. I am becoming conscious of money. Or lack thereof. The part that needs to change, and this is where others come in and I have no control over, is I need to get busier and fast. Scratching a very basic living is both emotionally draining and exhausting. So please book. I really am damn good at what I do.

My kindness to a fault sees me sacrificing things to help others and although a great characteristic it is easily taken advantage of. My faith teaches me to share freely but my humanity needs a bit of comfort. People like Mother Thereza are huge inspirations for me. Somewhere in the middle, I guess, lies an acceptable solution. I need to find the middle.

This last year has been an excellent year of overcoming obstacles. No matter what others might say or assume, I am darn proud of myself. So I have gotten to thinking about what lies ahead. I need to have fun whilst betting on me. In other words I need to socialize on platforms that are non-threatening and safe. Herein lies the the incalculable cost of calculable choices.

As an example: to join a running club I need good running shoes, the fees to pay the club, races, extra uber fare and all extras that go along with that. So this is the current situation, that will pass, I simply don’t have the resources to do more than I am at the present moment. When will it change? I wish I knew. All I do know is that my contradictions flip-flop from extremities because I need to have fun so when I can’t and have to stay home to pay bills the ‘too much free time’ pushes my frustrations to levels of despair. The cycle is both amusing and disconcerting.

The relevance of having resources to spare goes like such.

Grappling, lifelong, with being a bear (I have body hair) vs being smooth as I am lean in shape is still unanswered. To my contradictory mind, in order to remain natural I need muscle as a counterbalance to the burliness of being hairy….kinda like a Viking. To get a body is going to take money and by the simple fact that I have a high-metabolism lots of money to see the ‘body’ project through to completion. This applies to shaving my balding hair off too. I know that it is funny but, to my mind, lean and hairy are not a great visual combination. I got an offer for ‘fun’ again today. Although the invitation was tempting when I answered that I want to have a day of being more than a piece of meat to be relieved on the conversation came to an abrupt halt. Sad…. the online chat was rather nice for change.

To join an art class or to study new things…. and so the eternal unresolved issues continue. It is like today; having to give up meeting someone for a coffee. The uber fare to meet at the halfway mark + a coffee + an uber to work on Friday + pack of R27 ciggies meant staying at home was necessary as there just was not enough moola to go that far. Nevermind the fact in 2 days I am supposed to pay R16500 towards rentals. I get so annoyed when people flippantly offer solutions to the cyclical low screams of despondency that I share openly. The simple rule of thumb remains that in order to achieve anything in a society where money is the manner in which we trade…. money is necessary. Worse yet are the well-meaning but far deluded label-yielding semi-informed soothsayers who believe that yesteryear is an identity from which to suck a commentary from. Worse yet when they haggle a discount for a null-and-void exchange of potential business. But it is enough already.

Sitting in my bed wishing that I was at work making money to pay the bills that never stop I am enjoying the peace but a piece needs to be made. It is a strange time of year and things are slow. It is my favorite time in Johannesburg as the roads are less congested, people slightly more relaxed and I feel like I am in a village environment again. You know what I mean, right? That sense that life happens organically and not forced. God knows that Johannesburg is aggressive; and how?

I have been asked of late, “How are you feeling these days?” “Mmmmmmm,” I respond because feeling is not as important as the fact that action needs to happen and action is in limbo. Even the response to giving everything up to potentially become a Buddhist full time is a slow process and yet unanswered idea. You see spirituality is the be all and end all thing for me. When my spirit is broken my reality is incalculable. Why on earth am I like this and why I chose to live this life is another contradiction yet remaining to be seen. It is a bizarre thing knowing that ones value is so much more than the circumstantial results of that chosen life. Holding ones head up, online,in real life or in ones own private thoughts is a forgone action that must be lived if living is a must.

So what am I saying?


Get your butts into my chair, let me use my 23 years and award-winning experience to use my instinctive love language being ‘acts of service’ to create looks for you as an individual, just suck it up and pay the price in all regards and trust the fact that I do what I do because I genuinely want the world to be in awe of of your hair and know that the most cost-effective and personalized considerations are accounted for. And for goodness sake stop asking the world around you to approve your hair because they are neither you or I. The constant harassment to do something that often is emotionally based as opposed to REAL YOU based is sucking the very lifeblood out of something that should be a simple experience of expressing yourself. God knows we don’t need anymore sheep in the world that make individuals like myself such a scarce commodity that we seem crazy when in fact the crazy lies in thinking that others live in you; so can choose your authentic you. And DO NOT bring your friend/hubby or child to sit in on a consultation. The alternative is that the contradictory rebel in me kicks in and I simply want to head to the hills as far from the onslaught of bullying into professional subservience that gets my back up and creativity at a low. Some people, like myself, are desperately trying to hold onto a ‘win-win’ life philosophy because no one human is more important than any other. That philosophy is applicable to whether one is a creationist, evolutionist, atheist, or whatever other ‘ist’ man-made concept label we identify ourselves to. You see in my mind care has less to do with words as much as they have to do with how we action ourselves. My instinctive reaction to a world obsessed with thinking they have the answers to everything is to withdraw from it as a sign of non-participation. I don’t want to play when the game is loaded with antiquated rules that marginalize other humans, like ourselves, by categorized and inflated levels of status that is applauded by materialistic viewpoints as opposed to a global love perspective. Everybody in the world has the equal right to strive for their dreams. I am sick to death of being judged for being GWM, a recovering addict, a creative, a faith believer, humanitarian and a guy who just wants a simple life filled with wonderful memories more than trying to fit the defunct cookie cutter mould that I have never fit into. Let me be the teacher/ student. Let me be expressive. Let me be intellectual. Let me be humanitarian. Let me be. I don’t go around judging you for being conformist. It kills me and frustrates the hell out of me, but at the end of the day your consequences will yours alone to face…. not your friends, not your children, not your hubby/ wife and not your whoever else…. yours alone. We each only have this life to live. The next is the next. It is unknown. The past is gone. Now is now.

With my art works on sale perhaps 2018 might start in a pleasant way as opposed to the continuation of being a guy trying find a way to reach for his dreams because he believes in himself. He believes even when simultaneous contradiction is an incalculable cost to calculable choices that seem set to flavour 2018.

So to conclude this vulnerable blog I leave this thought…

You say: “It is my hair, my life, my choice.”

I say: ” You are right…. are they?”

The they’s are just you’s saying/doing/ being the same thing. Why would what they think be more important than what you think?


Stay your amazing self!




Deep House Cat Show on Mixcloud adds a much needed groovy and uplifting mood to this thought provoking, ‘tongue-in-cheek’ and somewhat humorously bitchy blog. Funnily enough the mix is called ‘ Bitcoin Mix’. You can draw the connection…. 🤣🤣!

Click ⬇️


An interesting chat about an homogeneous African traditional perspective coupled to religiosity has my little brain jumping through hoops. The informative discussion explained how one of the interesting things about Africans claiming heritage rights regarding Church explains some interesting religious practices that shockingly disrupt media timorously and may reflect some light onto our ZA government. Apparently if a person holds a prestigious position in Church and dies, the expected handing over of the position is to go to a family heir/ess. In other words whether the person inheriting the position is qualified, willing and or interested or not pressures to keep the ‘family business’ within the family is a must. It sheds light, well for me anyway, why Doom spritzing Pastors, or R25000 dinner seats can create such exploitative distortions in religious practices. Not that this is exclusive to Africa mind you. Catholicism in years gone by sold Purgatory to the uneducated populace.

The point is that any form of nepotistic practice can force people into positions that they may not want to be in; much like arranged marriages and the practice of LOBOLA. Marriage or relationships, in my opinion have less to do with money (although essential in today’s age) as they should be about a willingness to learn about another and practicing loving them authentically. Just saying!

In the same conversation I was teased saying that my LOBOLA price/ bride wealth would be 2 avocados, a naartjie and pawpaw from Limpopo. We cackled at idea of seeing the ‘AmaGogo’s’ walking for miles with the basket on the head and offering the payment to the family. Can you imagine the reaction? My informant had an interesting take on LOBOLA. That both parties should pay each family and to meet eachother halfway regarding the various prices. This was proposed as a possible deterrent to couples walking out of commitments so easily when rough terrain hits.

In ‘Anthropology of Southern Africa’, pages 257-266 written by Julia Pauli and Rijk van Dijk, interesting points are posed, “Bridewealth or lobola remains important and is supplemented by a plethora of new rituals and expenditures.” Hylton White also states, “It is generally agreed that rates of marriage are declining in Southern Africa. It is also clear that for people who are wealthy enough to marry, the long-standing constitution of marriage as process is increasingly replaced by a making of marriage as event.”

Just a thought?

Now how does my brain assimilate this to our corrupt government? Well if it considered shameful in a family that a heritage is passed over to a deserving other, in or out of a family, perhaps the desperate attempts to grapple for power, theft of funds, and plausible leaders negated for tradition may be explained.

Zooming out to the AIDS scandal both in Mbeki and Zumas Presidency a flicker of insight of the superstitious nature of more traditional cultural practices might reflect some onto the nature of voters voting for a party whether disastrous or not. Mbeki negated anti-retroviral medication for patients claiming fruit and vegetables could cure this supposedly foreign created disease and Zuma suggested a shower.

My Venda guest blamed HIV increasing on foreign black African men. He stated, “Because GWM prefer non-South African black men, these foreigners are making money out of sex and spreading the disease.” Although there is some truth in this statement, a lot of black prostitutes in ZA are foreign, I think the envy of racial counterparts has clouded an otherwise, perhaps, jealous based perspective. This answer came out of a question I ask a lot of skin tones different to me, “Why do GBM not like GWM?” The other prevalent answer is that a lot of young GBM feel used as sex objects and feel in-considered as potential relationship material.

What this is all pointing to regarding our racist government and it’s marginalized view of other race groups is this…

If a superstition based culture keeps one from negating authentic leadership in favour of defunct traditional perspectives that sooner hold onto ill-informed versions of responsibility to a country; how the fuck can that country emerge honorably where authentic efforts are not applauded over nepotistic guidelines? How in the name of ‘reaching-for-your-dreams’ can one not become despondent when an idiotic over-weight nephew who cannot even get out of a mega-expensive sport car even be given it , if perhaps a sport car racing-Driver dream may be overlooked because misappropriated funds are fucked by inappropriate people in governance?

And as the ANC continues to avoid accounting for mega billions spent on miscellaneous events, another thought for them to consider might be……


(Although I write this blog, the point of view is a question to ponder more than a decisive conclusion)


Stay your amazing self!




Connect an’ cronies

An older but distinctive flavour, Cafe Del Mar intrinsically sets the mood for tonight. Taking a moment to honor life for being amazing by soaking in a bath laden with oils, salts and rose petals I kind of, in my own small way, act gratefully for a moment that has spun my darkness into forgiveness and blazoned motivation. The fight for better goes on.

Plug in your earphones and enjoy reading this blog…..well, at least I hope so. Enjoy the mix at least!

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In what has been a rather startling experience over the course of the last week, today catapulted my self-esteem/ worth to near dangerous heights. I can almost smell and taste the scorched feathered wings. I must confess that I am not great at receiving kindness. Gosh, for most of my life the inferiority complex that has been handed over by cruel circumstances has oft left me feeling like kindness needs to be paid back in sort. If I can be bluntly honest, in my sub-culture categorization, it usually means naked and well we will leave the rest up to the 50 shades of your imagination. But people have taken my breathe away, overwhelmingly and simply beyond words….says the wannabe blogger….lol. Sometimes we all need a little care to remind us that the world isn’t only a hard place. Sometimes a little energy that is beyond the predictable can add just enough light to press another onto greater heights when all seems lost. To each of you, whom I guess would prefer to remain nameless, AB/AB, JM/SM, JS/ES, BC, MZ/RE and the countless others that have fought when there has been little fight left, I cannot applaud you enough for being shining examples of a humanity that can break chains. This is a humanitarian wannabe’s purest delight. THANK YOU!


In my tumultuous numbness over the last period many questions have blank spaces. The ‘Do I/ Don’t I’ can be so scary if it means that lines in the sand must be drawn and others may get hurt, by default. As weird as it might sound bunking work, although plausible behavior under the circumstances, hurts people, seldom in my life have I consciously aimed choices directly so. Sometimes it has happened, the guilt is crushing, more than not I slink back into my bewildered, ‘What the heck, why me?’

I guess many South Africans, too, are asking themselves of late, “Why us? Couldn’t the ZUPTA clan have defrauded, racially divided and corrupted Dubai for crying out loud? Why the magnificence of Fugard, Bosman, Uys, Fassie, Theron, Bra Hugh and the lists of enormous talent, that can go on endlessly,spat on by a legacy tarnished by the ANC FATCATS of late?”

On that note I took a rather hardly difficult to find magnifying glass to the ‘TOP 6’. With the self-proclaiming racist, ‘I won’t employ whites in my fast-food chains,’ and recent sex scandal embroiled newly appointed President heading an even more dubious Gupta affiliated compadre, the question is, “Is all of this mere showboating and more cloak-n’-dagger bullshit?” Look I am no saint myself and am ashamedly but honestly facing my authenticity daily and demons too. But are they? Surely if the taxpayer pays these public servants then our job is to see if we are paying the right folk? Surely? At least, as in my case, a close eye cast to keep accountability open and South Africans honored in the manner of authentic African custom. So I formed a simple list that explains why, the shuffle is much more like a ‘2 left legged dancer’ than a Prima Ballerina.











Now I am not a learned man but somehow the physics, math and creative hustle of power configuration seems STILL AWFULLY SADDLED TO ANOTHER ZUPTA OR WILL IT BE CALLED RUPTA ONSLAUGHT.

Dear ZA

Let’s not pop our corks too hastily because I think our fight is NOT YET OVER.

Just a thought?



The continuation of the marginalization of born-and-bred non racist race groups must come to an end!!!!!!


Stay your amazing self!

#❤️🇿🇦🌈, #❤️🌍🌈



Colour outside lines

News, a muse and tip-tap-toe on the brightly colored lined quilt cuts through the drab ivory walls that cohere the the whitewash of power hungry deceit. Almost like the disruption caused by Technicolor breaking old black and white flicks the wash is anything but amusing. As the night crackles a bust up screeching wireless, the assault of the Rivonia traffic bangs through the windows bringing with it the dreaded Mozzies. Which is less tolerable, none the wiser? An offer of ‘fun’ plagues my mind. I guess the upside is that I still get invites, but what I really want is a bit of care more than just the bear. The crazy thing is; and I know that it is lame; I always secretly hope that I might reel in a catch that chooses to stay tangled in the net for a bit longer than when the sun rises & goodbyes follow on hot pursuit. I mean I can’t be that bad ……lol….. can I?

The titivating on social-media is rather hysterical since the announcement of, ‘It’s a boy’. I mean the guy has hardly slurped up the last glass of taxpayer funded bubbly, like seriously. The litmus test is going to be whether he in all effect can turn around our 2 ‘Junk Status’ ratings and avoid Moody delivering the looming decisive hat-trick blow. Beyond that, as time is always the ultimate revealer, will CR have any influence over the strained livelihood of the poorest of the poor in ZA. With all my heart I hope so! Actually with all my heart it would be nice for a bit if my own life could have a little strain lifted for a bit. Goodness knows that I have done everything I know how to keep going until……. well until the going was unable to even draw back the curtains for a week. Legs gave way to lying prostate and incapacitated by the sheer despondency of seeing a life diminishing. In many ways the direct correlation to my own psyche and that of my home country cut such tight parallels. Sincerely, I just wish we could get to a point where we recognized humanity over bottomlines and excessive profit margins driven by shark infested conglomerates that forget that life, all life, is more important than 1 cent profit and certainly that nepotistic corruption, and self-indulgent greed is an enemy of the entire planet.

And so the innate battle between our authentic blueprint versus our learned behaviors ensues. We all grapple with BS that lunges itself at us from every spectrum. Whether it be cold calling advertising to the fact that every darn thing screams for our attention from seatbelts to fridge doors. Our spaces are over saturated with attention sapping vampiric gadgets. Gosh, even this flipping mobile is in constant need of updating itself. It is a right royal pain in the butt.

Truthfully, I miss our lives where a little more autonomy, fresher air and secret adventures lie in mystical forests just outside our back patios; minus the snakes of course… And minus the dreadful Christmas Songs. Christmas has never been a time of joy for me. In fact the idea of the odd disappointing gift, consumerism pumped up to an inch of its life, people trying so hard to spread cheer and the inevitable ‘have-nots’ looking at the false trappings of a moment stirring up thoughts of deep envy and sorrow is hardly my perception of togetherness.

I know that I sound like such a pessimist, but I would sooner have none of it than the appeasement of a giver that comes with the garnished tentacles of slimy expectations that are none the reward of the recipient. As a person whose love language is ‘Acts of Service’, service that is aimed at the exclusive enjoyment of the receiver with zero expectation of payback is a rather great kindness one sees little of daily. What I mean is this…. I heard a story the other day where I was told that one must always give ones doctor and banker gifts in case the need for preferential treatment is required at a future juncture. I mean seriously. Do people actually fall for and feel comfortable with blatant manipulation? Well if that’s the case I will just list my shopping list below:

1) Brand new Car… maintenance and ALL sundries taken care of till the day I die

2) Home all settled and left in MY will to pass onto whomsoever I feel fit

3) 2 international holidays p/a, of my choice, all expenses paid until I decide otherwise


Anyhow, enough of this frivolity. In my recent stumble from poised grace, the one thing that stood out for me was the lack of truly sincere and loving friendships in my own life. Thankfully I like me, for the most part. So if you find yourself out there somewhere and feel the same depressive state of this holiday season just remember: IT IS OK TO FEEL NEGATED BY THE WORLD AT LARGE, I DO TOO. THE TRUTH IS THAT THE DARN WORLD IS MAKING THE SHIT UP, AS ARE YOU AND I, BECAUSE NONE OF US HAS THE PERFECT LIFE. MANY OF US FALL SHORT OF THE LOVING BLUEPRINT THAT IS ENCODED INTO OUR HEARTS. WE AT LEAST KNOW THAT THIS IS TRUE, OTHERWISE WE WOULDN’T RAGE AGAINST ‘THE MACHINE’ SO MUCH.

So if you are lonely, find a map and know that a middle-aged balding but sincerely loving hairstylist that lives in Sandown, Johannesburg, ZA feels the same as you. Together we will pull through this. Goodness knows I need the good vibes and certainly will be sending it with every bit of intention I can muster in my cynical and jaded heart….. lol.



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Stay your amazing self!