PSY the poet

If you ever wondered what Gangam style is all about... Without all the choruses it reads like a Leonard Cohen poem - if he was smitten and had an extremely basic grasp of the English language.

-

A girl who is warm and humanly during the day
A classy girl who know how to enjoy the freedom of a cup of coffee
A girl whose heart gets hotter when night comes
A girl with that kind of twist


I’m a guy
A guy who is as warm as you during the day
A guy who one-shots his coffee before it even cools down
A guy whose heart bursts when night comes
That kind of guy

A girl who looks quiet but plays when she plays
A girl who puts her hair down when the right time comes
A girl who covers herself but is more sexy than a girl who bares it all
A sensable girl like that

I’m a guy
A guy who seems calm but plays when he plays
A guy who goes completely crazy when the right time comes
A guy who has bulging ideas rather than muscles
That kind of guy

On top of the running man is the flying man, baby baby
I’m a man who knows a thing or two
On top of the running man is the flying man, baby baby
I’m a man who knows a thing or two

Driving lessons

I have always considered myself a fairly proficient driver. That's a lie - I am quite confident that I am the best there is on gods green earth. Years of commuting from the East Rand, which isn't exactly the center of the universe has grounded me in the art.

Jade and I at the ICC

And so I was quietly confident and a little excited when I got offered the opportunity to do some real 'student work'. Fly down to Durban and drive some self indulged golf day patrons around in top end Beamers all day. And then sit on the beach and drink beer while they hacked their way around Serengeti (sic) golf estate.

It turned into an amazing weekend spent with my girlfriend (who organised the 'work' for me). I have however come back with a new respect for just how primitive my baby Volksie polo is in comparison to these behemoths of the road.

Being given the key to a BMW 550 for the first time, one does not simply jump in and put their sheets to the wind. First you need to locate the key slot. I spent five futile minutes devoted to this task before being told by a bemused looking car attendant that it had key less start.

'Right,' I nodded as if I had known this all along and was testing him, 'To the off!' and I reached forward and pumped the engine start button. But to no avail. Foot on the brake, try again.

Eventually I had the extremely quiet 5 liter engine humming gently and hoping against hope that the car wouldn't once again thwart my efforts to get going, I applied some gas.

My first attempt at reverse parking an X6 - with German precision!

The car immediately started beeping in an aggressive manner and the heads up display gave me the evil eye. The hand brake was still up I was told from the now laughing attendant who thrust his head through the open window to give me guidance.

 Eventually... I eased away from the fleet pickup, ego slightly tarnished but ready for a weekend of aggressive driving that had more than a few other close shaves in million rand vehicles.

if it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it for money or
fame,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don’t do it.
if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,
don’t do it.
if you’re trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.

if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you’re not ready.

don’t be like so many writers,
don’t be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don’t be dull and boring and
pretentious, don’t be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don’t add to that.
don’t do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don’t do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don’t do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

 - Charles Bukowski