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My Life

Life and death has befallen me too many times to count, not just in one day but over the last 3 weeks or so. I might even say since I’ve been in Mozambique. As the beach sand clings to my skin and the beers roll down my throat, I feel that life cannot get better until some stranger from across the seas asks me what my name is and where I am from and warra warra warra. I interrupt immediately but politely and mention that all of that just seems to peg me down and that it would influence his personal direct experience with me. Why not just find out who I am instead of me telling you? Yeah, life is good here and the party starts in an instant. Money or no money, the party rolls like a wave of life towards distant shores of uncharted waters. It is exciting to meet new travellers and feel the energy of experience pulsing through the veins of those I meet. I love my life, fucking hey, I just love my life, this is my life, THIS is my life, this IS my life, this is MY life, this is my LIFE!!

And then the bottom falls out, the money spent, the food eaten, the weed smoked up and no one around has a cigarette. Everyone is asking for a drink, a smoke, and a toke and in the end just a hug to feel cared for. We are all the same in a different way.

I walk back to my little shack and sulk over my stupidities. Buying a dinner when I could go home and cook, but the company was just sooooo very pleasant and exciting. What the hell is 200 meticaiz anyway? And a couple of drinks and some for the new fellow travellers and not to mention the friends that had none when I had.

I love my friends and my family and for their happiness I give my all. At my expense. Always. It feels that way, but in one day life and death can hit you more that you can imagine. What else can I think up to make me feel better over spending my money is such a fucking crazy way? And the worse of all is that it is money given to me by my father. Fucking hell, Jesus Christ Li, get your shit together. What the fuck!!!!???

I scrape together all the roaches I saved for precisely these occasions and roll a stinky spliff to calm my tears of self pity. I am so pathetic, the tears rolls over my checks in gushes like a flood gate opening and I make these strange sounds like an animal, like something trying to escape from the depths of the earth, my earth, my heart, my being is cracking. It is painful to see myself as true as this. I feel that I will not survive. I cannot see a way out because I am not looking for one. I like to wallow in my feelings. The darkest parts of me feel real to me, too real and this scares me. I try to force myself out of it but my feeling tones are stronger than my will and I swim amongst my filth, smelling each passing fuck-up, watching each piece of shit float by me, like it is normal, like taking stock.

My heart takes over and it presses the buttons on my phone and sends a message to my sister. Before I have time to revise it, I hear the “Sent Message” beep. I did it; I asked for help, I asked someone else to get me out of the shit I FUCKING CREATED!! I feel even worse, almost 40 years old and still alone without someone who loves and cares for me. Not even able to even take care of my fucking self. Just got out of Federal Prison in Florida for drugs and now I use every fucking thing available and pay with my dad’s money and I even fucking sell “kangaroos” to every Tom, Dick and Harry!!! Ecstasy for life, sold in little tablets at 300 mtz each. It will take you to heaven and back to this fucking shit hole we call life!!! Jesus fucking Christ, everyone even knows it and they talk about it because I sell so many in such a short time, without trying I might add. Now look, I even start feeling proud of what I can do,,,,,,, with DRUGS!!! My head is definitely not screwed on right. Some wiring is loose and I do not know the difference between right and wrong. I always fall right into these things without thinking. That’s it, without thinking. I just love drugs and alcohol and sex and rock and roll and party and before you know it, I’m right back in it the “Go for it all now and live life to its fullest, because I might not be here tomorrow. All I have is this moment and with it I will make the best of it.” Now is that so wrong? Why am I feeling so down? Why do I even judge myself and who the fuck am I to even do so?
I awoke this morning feeling the unusually cold wind blowing through the reed walls of my little barraca and across my body like a stranger. I grab for my little crocheted blanky and cover my upper body with its feeling of love and tenderness. I made that blanky, it has memories attached to it and it makes me warm very quickly, inside and out.

Crossroads, Again!
I roll over after contemplating for hours whether I want to get up and pee now or later. It’s so cold outside and so cosy here in my little blue haven of a mosquito net. I finally crawl out from under my blue veil and get dresses in the “Little Jerusalem Way” just to go to the bath house (another little reed shack with a toilet bowl and a huge area for bathing with buckets of water). I rent this place from Papa Luis, the local Chief of Tofo as well as Preacher of the Assembly of God. They have their church right behind my little abode. I can hear them sing on Saturdays and Sundays. I must conform to certain dress codes and ways of life. I must where long skirts or long pants when I walk around the village and I can not have different men sleep here. There can only be one man and I have decided that it is Joao and we have agreed on that. Even though Joao has gone back to Zimbabwe, I am hoping to see him again and share my bed with him, share my life with him if that is what he would like too. I care about this man in a way that I find I dare not try to explain. I have no need to explain my life or feelings anymore. I swam through the filth of my life for far too long, not to mention the rest of the fucking scum that hung around me with their filthy lives drifting past me and over me and into me. I am on a boat and directing my course. I am the Captain of my Life now and this is where I am, my own life.

I need a friend to talk to but fuck I don’t have one here that I trust with all my life. Joao would be able to listen and talk to me. He has also gone through similar things. I trust him and I have no idea why. I just do. Where is he when I really fucking badly need him?

Fuck I need to ask questions about this offer that fell into my lap because of an honest misunderstanding. What the fuck! I don’t know how this happened or if “Mr See All” just picked me out. He probably has checked me out and seen that I have contact with so many tourists ALL THE TIME. How can he just pop the question like that? That is taking a humongous risk to say the fucking least. Then again, if he checked me out then maybe he thinks that I have what it takes to do this “thing” that he is offering. He must be thinking of himself too, placing himself at risk now. We are both in the same boat, floating on the filth of others lives. I have not left the river of filth and lies; I have just changed perspective and got on a boat. Where I go, I don’t know and I don’t want to think about it. It will all come and it will all go.

Man oh man; I just don’t know what to do. I am already thinking about the money. How to get it and how much I can make in the first round. Double the money back in a very short time. No question about the time and the ease, I know the people here and what they need and what is available. I wouldn’t even have to go out to the regular places. I can become “Lady Invisible” if I just knew how.
I smoke a joint and make a cup of instant coffee with Creamora. Don’t like it much but that is what is going right now in this little reed shack called my home. I press the menu button on my cell phone then 3 times to the right and 4 times down. The calculator is on and my fingers are typing away. The figures are surprising, I feel fortunate and fucking scared at the same time. What the fuck is going on here? Invest R5 000 and get back R15 000. How long do I have to think about this? Not long, not long at all. I know that it is a good investment return and I also know what it takes to get that type of return. My life.

Is it worth it? To put my life on the line for money? How good do I think I am? Can I actually make it? Do I have what it takes to deal with large amounts of money? Can I be professional, forward and clear without giving myself away? Am I like that already without knowing it? How did I fall into this? How did this happen? Who else knows about this?

“Mr See All” knows all the police in this area. He knows what goes on here and who does what and every-fucking-thing!! Or that is what he said. Is it true? How do I know? Can I trust HIM? How do I know? How do I find out? Should I talk to him or just invest and see what happens?

I have questions that I need answers to but I can not ask these questions without knowing who to ask. And knowing who to ask is what I need to find out but how do I do that without anybody knowing what I want to find out. Does that make any sense? I am stuck right now, at a crossroads in my life, yet again, and this time it is not a joke. This time I know what I am thinking about and I know the consequences too well. I have been there and done that and failed miserably at it all. Have I learnt something? Absolutely, but I also have been seeing myself lately and I know that I started trusting everyone just too easily and too fast.

I see that and I have pulled back from the main scene in town and have been staying home doing my thing like deleting those people from my cell phone that I really just don’t want to know or talk to anymore. They are not my type of people and I do not want to be friendly towards them anymore. Decency is one thing but sharing space with these creatures that just want to make a buck at other peoples expense I just can not tolerate anymore. I don’t like them and I certainly do not trust them at all. I never have and now I will show it. I needed to get in and was starved for attention and just got involved with every Tom, Dick and Harry. What the fuck? Jesus, I really can get so fucking mushy and get lost in that fucking world of idealism, good faith and give everyone a chance. Fuck all that shit!!!
And just when I decided to pull back and started living my life the way I know myself to be, then this happens. It could be my life saver and it could be my death. Who do I talk to about this? Where do I turn? Is this the way it is, just doing it without any help, without any other person knowing? Is this how it is? Fucking hey, this is SERIOUS business. I know not what to do.

Retreating Home
There are times when life and its opportunities come to me so fast and furious that I start to let go and let the river of my emotions flow. I SMS my sister Mariska. My fingers have a mind of their own and they transform my words into deep feelings that only she can feel. Within minutes my little phone rings and I know it is time to let it all out and share my self with her.

I cry about suffering, about not being able to get a job, about being alone and without my children and that I feel no direction in my life. She offers for me to come home, to pay my rent and to transfer all the money I need to take care of my situation. I thank her and feel a relief creep over me, just for a second or two though. I am back at square one.

Yes sirey, I am back at asking others to help me get along in life. When will I ever fucking learn to just do my own thing and take care of myself? I am sick and tired of being so dependant on everyone and everything that I want to get sick! I know now what I want to do and what it is that I must do for myself. Get a fucking job!!!

NO JOB, NO MONEY, NO FREEDOM!!!! Thus WORK = FREEDOM!!!!!

Again, and again again, my dad gives me money to get by until I find my own way. This time I know it is different because I am angry with myself and I now have the drive to go and get what I want, my way. I am sure he thinks that I am just not willing to change my looks to get the appropriate job that I so need. I am sick of all that bullshit too. What the fuck does it matter if I have long or short hair or dreads or whatever? The important issue here is the qualifications and experiences that I have accumulated throughout my life.

The second night in Centurion, South Africa, I get a call at midnight from Barrie. He wants to see me and he wants to fuck. That is the nature of our relationship. Drugs, alcohol, cigarettes and sex, plenty of it! It is always good, the sex I mean, but his anxiousness and rudeness is just a bit too fucking scary sometimes. Anyway, I get Pieter, Mariska’s boyfriend, to give him directions and before you know it I find myself back in a situation/place that I thought I did not want to repeat. Here I am doing it again! Jesus, I am just such a looser, weak and starving for attention. Just give me some and let me be me without analyzing me nor criticizing me.

We drive along while I take a bullet of cocaine and mess as much all over myself. Who the fuck cares, he always has so much and loves to share with me. We are on our way to meet his friend in the parking lot at the local Spar. I see him in a BIG BLACK VW SUV and it shows that he has plenty money.
I give him a big hug and let him know that everything is OK and cool. I am Barrie’s friend and therefore I am his friend to. I don’t think he really cares or maybe he is just used to Barrie and his array of weird friends.

We get into Frikkie’s car while Barrie locks his. While we wait for him to do that Frikkie asked me for some coke and I immediately pour it all out and make 2 big lines. We each snort our line and the conversation is on!!

Barrie gets in and immediately forces his hands into my very tight jeans while trying to force his tounge into my mount while I am talking to Frik. I know that he wants me and that he knows that he is going to get it but at this moment I feel disgusted with myself for allowing this before and I tell him directly and diplomatically that he does not have to force his way into me nor break my neck to get to my mouth. All he needs to do is stay in touch with his feelings and to respect, period. Besides, I say, I like talking to Frik and I am enjoying our conversation tremendously. I also suggest to go somewhere where we can chill and get another bag, says Frik. So Barrie calls the man and we get 2 bags @ R300 each. This stuff better be good but then again I know its good because Barrie always uses the best.

I take my bag and give it to Barrie to show me how he crushes the whole bag, as if I don’t know. I allow him to feel good about himself. He does not like himself nor does he accept himself. I know this about him and I also know that he has been where I have been. I understand this about him and we share something special because of it. That which I speak of is just for me to know right now. As soon as I have his permission to write about it, I will, but until then, well, I guess it is my secret.

We do some huge fucking lines and I am flying off my rocker. This is great stuff and as we get to Frik’s house, which by the way is in a gated community at a Golf Club, we string our way through the birthday celebrators, who also live there, and get ourselves some drinks for our very dry mouths and spinning heads.

Frik and I hit it off like no ones business. Our conversation was turning into a life story of how he became successful. He is only 26 now and bought his first mine at 20 for the price of 5 million Rands! And, he didn’t even use his own money, because he didn’t have any. Guess who supplied the money? Yep, old Barrie. And what did he do to get these large sums of money? Yep, he dealt drugs and was so busy focusing on making more money that he burnt out due to lack of sleep and just to much cocaine!! Frik needed more money than what Barrie could supply so he went elsewhere to save his business venture. He was in the shit and needed to get out and that is how it all started.

I listen intently and feel very excited to have met him and to come to find out what an extraordinary person he is. Especially under these circumstances, I wouldn’t expect to find someone of his callibrar. Or then again, I know that this is what most of them do anyway. I decided to ask him straight out about what he does. He sees my interest and after swirling around about our morals, not believing in Religion and all that crap, he asks me if I want to work for him starting June on the new project. I am elated and say yes and feel that the Universe has finally sent me someone who believes in the same principals in life and work and that wants ME, just the way I am, to come and work for him. The salary is great to start out with and he offered to organize transport until I got my own car. This is what I have been waiting for.

Barrie calls from the other room. He feels left out and I am just not interested in having sex with him. My mind and heart is at ease right now and I know where the honey is. As I tell him, he understands and goes to lie down. I offered to wake him later so that he can go to work. It is now 4 a.m. and I am flying in the sky of hope and relief.

As the sun comes up we go to sit outside in the sun to warm up. It is very cold here at the moment and I am not at all dressed for this climate. He brings me a big jacket and a beer and we roll another one of my good joints. He says that he doesn’t normally smoke and I assure him that it will take the edge off the coke and relax him more. He trusts me and shares it with me until we get deep into our emotions and he starts to share his personal issues about his father with me. Wow, our lives are so similar and the issues are so the same. He feels like my twin, my comrade, my partner. I give thanks to the Force That Be and tell him of my gratitude in meeting him. He feels the same way and I know it is true because he shared his tears with me, his heart and he opened up like never before in his life, of this I am certain. I see it in his eyes and I feel his complete being and I recognize his from some long forgotten place and time.

Then we start to feel really strange, bigger and heavier, a feeling of swimming. I ask for a blanket and we camp out in the sun on the back lawn. We are lying down and laughing and letting go completely. He says that he has never allowed himself to loose control and that this is his first time. I somehow believe him, that is probably why he is successful in his business life.

As we roll around and just lay there we started wondering what had hit us so hard. It was the pills we took at midnight with Barrie. We didn’t know what it was but we both trust Barrie and we took them without complaint, and now look at what is happening to us. We are out of our trees and it feels as if I am loosing control of my body. I am leaving my body and so I lie down on the sofa and just breath awhile as we both look at each other across the messy table full of empty beer bottles and dirty glasses with overfull ashtrays. I have never felt like this before. Nor has he.

I fall asleep and get woken up by Frik and lead into his bedroom. He both lie down and try to sleep but it is impossible. Today is Mothers’ Day and we both cancelled our appointments with our mothers due to the state we are in. He feels guilty but he also knows that he can in no way leave the house in the state that he is in. We talk and get closer to each other, foot rubbing and before you know it I am in the bathroom looking for a condom. We get right down to it and I make him come like a volcano. It was not that great for me but I know that he enjoyed it very much.

As I get up I feel really uncomfortable as I get dressed and ask him to take me home. We drive in silence and I feel that I have made the biggest mistake in my life, the job of a lifetime and then I had to fuck him. Jesus, I am so stupid for always wanting to do things that feel good no matter the consequences. Now I went too far. I did ask him if having sex would influence our friendship and business opportunities and he said that it wouldn’t. He assured me that he would still feel the same way after the fact and that even though we were on cocaine that his word is still his word and that everything will stay the same.
I say good-bye to him at my sister’s place and walk into the family gathering of Mother’s Day, with everyone on the grass outside eating and drinking and doing family things. I am glad that I came home and didn’t miss this day.

Enthusiastically I tell my mom about Frik and the job and my life and the strange way in which I always meet the right people at the right time. I am grateful to have my family close to me and to have trusted my instincts. I am home again!!