Saturday, January 31, 2009
Unfortunately even at seven, I wasn’t the best morning person. The next memory I have is the jingle of the phone, the sun still wasn’t up but it had become noticeably lighter. The customary polkicha was whistling its piercing call. There was a hubbub of voices above. Charted. Emotional. Finally a choke of grief and a woman crying.
That’s when I knew. Even though the voices were hushed I understood and it was buried somewhere deep in my subconscious. Even though the truth came out only a decade and maybe more later, from that day I knew. My world had imploded and its shards were spreading across the continents. And my old life was blowing away as the sun rose to chase the grey away.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Wild ride it is.
Monday, January 26, 2009
But of course I don't...because it is only six months, because there is a lot to be done and I have...for the past 10 (or so) years...gotten up every day and done what I had to do to get here and move forward.
P.S. T and PP, you better not give me grief about that being emo...it's not...
Sunday, January 25, 2009
He could hear his mother mutter something…
At the edges of his consciousness, through the haze of blood clouding his vision, he thought, ‘that’s an odd way of putting it?’
A piece of flesh, half mutton chop flying through the window hit him on the ear, breaking his reverie. His mother still mumbled, now incoherently next to him. As the figure got closer he tried to focus, the blurriness sliding in and out.
His mouth fell open, out of the corner of his eye he saw his mother’s do the same, a semi roasted, semi-masticated duodenum fall out.
It was Uncle Victor! There was no doubting it. But…when was the last time he had seen Uncle Victor? It was on the farm, that exciting, breathless holiday with his moisturizing, musical uncle. Uncle Victor had been one of his uncle’s best friends. With a liking for brightly coloured sarongs and a taste for nationalism, he was an artsy piece of work. Old Reserve and Ginger Beer (Elephant House only) was his drink…though he did waver towards Cream Soda every once in awhile…muttering under his breath, ‘it’s those damn ads I tell you, all those young….”
Memories from that hot, wet, yearning summer kept flooding his mind as Uncle Victor loomed closer. He looked over at his mother…still chewing on the duodenum. As the smooth metal shone out of the dark, he realized with shock that Victor had a gun, beautifully polished .338 Lapua Magnum, air still steaming out into the cold out of the blackness of its muzzle.
‘Fuckity, fuck, fuck,’…his mother had finished the duodenum. The rough words barely on him as all he could see was the muzzle edging closer with a sweaty, brown finger on the trigger.
”You and that fucking sheep…” Uncle Victor’s voice was a low hiss…menacing in its quietness.
“He knew you know…he saw it all…we both did. And it broke his heart! After all the hard work he put in saving her from those military experiments, being her friend…to see you do that to Fluffy…”
The memories came flooding back to him now, the supple legs with their short tight black hairs, the thighs with their white, soft fuzz…the wetness…
“You know he left, he bought a gigantic tub of moisturizer and disappeared!” The voice was now tinged with manic…”he was my best friend…and you broke his heart! You broke my heart!”
He remembered, the tightness. The power he felt as he moved, the soft entreaties.
Such soft music to his ears, he could almost imagine her calling out his name, in a bovine sort of way.
“And now you’re going to pay!” The gun came, up…the finger tightened.
It was a different sound. The erotic charge had become low and menacing. This was not his imagination. It was very real, deadly.
Time seemed to freeze. Uncle Victor hesitated, the finger loosened. There was barely a whisper of sound through the quiet air as the cloven hoof came around.
The gun clattered to the ground.
There was a blinding flash, because as the gun was a cheap Russian knock off, the safety didn’t work really well.
Two red eyes welled up though the inkiness of the night…
Over to Sach:)
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Was having a FB chat with an old friend I haven’t seen in yonks, now happily (I guess) married with a kid. The usual jazz about how are you, what have you been doing, blah, blah, blah…
“so any thoughts of getting married?”
What I really wanted to say is I’m 27. Not to mention bat-shit crazy. Why on earth would I want to marry or settle? Everybody I talk to complains about marriage. I hardly think the wifey would be happy with workaholic, crazy business idea, scuba diving, porn star photographing husband right? Well the latter I can understand, only because I don’t really have the opportunity any more to photograph porn stars…sob…
So what is it with the mid twenties, married girls? Do they just want everyone else to jump the bandwagon?
Mind you this girl’s very sweet but when she hinted she wanted to hook me up with a bird with wider shoulders than mine (I’m sure she’s a nice girl as well but I like my chikas hote/cute…what can I say, I’m shallow) I decided enough was enough and moved on to the fact that I was now an alcohol peddler.
Surprised uncomfortable silence. As much as it is possible on FB chat (which sucks by the way).
Saturday, January 17, 2009
I love this feeling. It takes the pain away. That gnawing, gnarling pain at the base of my shoulders. That pain from being where I don’t want to be, not being who I want to be. That’s all replaced by bliss…a white haze of tropical light…someone there, something there to fight for…hold on to…bleed for…bliss…
Then I wake up. Gird my loins. And get busy doing what needs to be done to get there.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Check website is live.
Email a bunch of random people letting them know OR is finally available in Australia.
Find hiking boots.
Place insoles into said hiking boots
Purchase knee supports for hike tomorrow.
Get bars, camelpak, change of clothes and laptop, dive stuff ready for a productive day in the Valley.
Fly and finish watching Leon.
Stick to task list ....
Thursday, January 15, 2009
It reminds me of Beethoven. Can you hear it?
It's like when you put your head to the grass and you can hear the growin' and you can hear the insects zzzzzzziiiingg.
Do you like Beethoven?
courtesy Luc Besson
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Driving past on Galle Road, I note the new, brightly lit building in the middle of the sea.
Mae, vam pathe mokkada thienna (what’s that on the left side)?
I maybe a bit of a kallu suddha but…
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Figured I would harness the insomnia for doing good. Woke up at 5.00am, ate a couple of wholegrain pancakes, cup of coffee, read a few FB messages and funny photo comments and one rather endearing email. Look I’m a social kind of primate and the fact that most of my friends are 10’s of thousands of miles away bums me out on a daily basis. I may be an online whore, but I am one with the best of intentions.
A refreshingly random Gmail chat about coital relations and implications of keeping score with D and it was off to the gym. Solid one hour workout…this early morning gyming is something I could get used to. A rather nervous shower in the gym (not a big fan of public nudity) and off to work.
The drive down
Plans stamped, approvals gotten and its back to the office. It is all a bit breathless now and the tasks and action items keep getting piled on me by an oblivious management. Obviously being a high achiever has its downsides, especially when I’m currently in my lazy island boy mode.
All things in all, things are good. And I’m shiny and happy…I really am…
And for the record, I too resolve to be negative about negativity. All power to T!
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Let’s take out Lasantha.
Celebrations for the fall of EPS. Crakers muting the cries of horror.
“We would have done it before if we wanted to”
What convenient timing. It’s like déjà vu back to the Premadasa days. My hope is tied up in the fact that we are more aware now, we have more tools at our disposal to spread information. There is more dissent. Hopefully enough to overcome the shrug and head waggle.
What to do?
Saturday, January 10, 2009
There’s a lot to do, which as 2008 went is no surprise. The difference this year around is that I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.
CIN scheduled for Feb 17th…fingers crossed that goes well at the first go.
Financials to sort out, investment funds to set up in the case the shit hits the fan in the next decade. Deals to swish. Things to let go off.
3J is taking off. A lot of facebook stalking and guerilla marketing to come.
A relaunch of the shady studio with P. More portfolios to shoot hopefully.
A big move to plan. Something that’s really scaring the shit out of me. I’m used to money, hard work but money. I’m used to convenience, instant gratification and electronics galore. Thinking of getting into a scene where money is scarce kind of scares me. I’m yet to test myself as to whether I’m that selfless.
Excitement though at the same time. Dreams of Trinco and Adams Peak swirl in my head. D is coming to SL in July and we are already planning some killer outings. There’s also the thought of being able to slip beneath those green waves and do more exploring. Getting to know people better, new people. The possibility of surprising R on his 30th in Aussie.
Like I said, 2009, fingers crossed, touch a whole forest of wood, should be a new year. A new experience. A new start.
As usual I’m the only one up. Everyone is either deep in a morass of sleep or drunkenness. I’m the only one with a ticking mind, the alcohol wasting through my system. 8.20 am, a brilliant night out with a bunch of friends celebrating the birthday of someone I thought was one of the most important in my life, yet all I felt when you were around was tension and unhappiness. I was truly enjoying myself when you were not there, ironic if I have ever lived the word.
I always thought it would be you. The same disfunctionalality, the same depths, the same scarred hurt carried through into ambition and a desire to succeed.
The 3rd of January, 2009. It has been a long road, but one that I have finally, after many false ends and hopes, decided to come to the end off. I always thought it would be you and this truly hurts to know that it won’t. I’ve had this grandiose speech in my head for a long time about what you mean to me and I meant to deliver it on the beach that I call home when the moment was right…but now I guess it will never be. I have had enough of the struggle, the fight. It is not the competition, I can deal with that. But I can’t deal with the ambiguity, the half suggestions never quite fulfilled. What goes on in your head is not a mystery to me, but trying to find a way in is.
I have enough to deal with in life, new starts, fresh starts and horizons. I need to be sure of myself to survive and not have to deal with another’s conflictedness, fears and insecurities. I never thought when I came down that it would end like this, you in a room a few feet away but for all that it is worth you could be the 10,000 miles away that you were for the last six months.
Today I move on, as R has pointed out as his favourite quote for the holiday, ‘these things happen.’ This is the only sour note in what has been an amazing three weeks but there’s no escaping it. The only regret I have is that I lied. I told you that you would always be my friend no matter what happened. As I sit here with the early morning sun in my face, the alcohol wasting through my system, I know that is not true. And I hate lying. There is no way I can be around you, there will always be that half hope, that glimmer of something happening and it will always be a false one. I’m someone who values my friends and has certain standards as to how I treat them. I hold my friends to the same standards while making allowable concessions. How you were this holiday just didn’t make it, I know what your fears are and why you have them. But that still is not much of an excuse for how you made me feel. I want to give you a chance, but if I do I’m afraid I’ll keep giving you chances for the rest of my life.
So this is goodbye, something I probably will never have the courage to say to you face to face but will remain on this random binary bit of the universe. I’m sorry that so many people have let you down in your life. And I’m sorry that I’m joining them, but I just can’t see any other way. I hope for your sake you come through whatever you’re going through and become that person whom I knew over the last years, the person I was crazy about. For your sake.
I hoped, I tried, fought and dreamt, but I’m out. And I’m sorry.
Now it’s goodbye.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
One of the best holidays I have ever had in my life (barring one fuck-up).
5 days spent in Madiha in Matara learning to scuba dive (more on that later). The perfect break, three awesome people to hang out with, trishawing it to Dondra and bussing it to Unawatune. Sea turtles 12 meters under the sea, the perfect beach and lots of fishies. The only drawbacks were sharing a van with a pair of huggy monkeys (I know both of you are going to be reading thisJ) and ending the trip with a strange compulsion to watch My Fair Lady.
Seeing R’s face when I walked into the Lounge to suprise him and hearing him say “bloody hell, that’s twice now!”
Hikka with the second family, snorkeling with Akks and getting stoned with the boys.
A couple of rocking nights with old and new friends at Sugar. Was called a ‘classy guy’ which almost prompted me to fall off the table I was dancing on. Hot dogs and trishaws gunning in the night.
Sights of Sigirya I had never seen before, elephants wrestling in Kaudulla and the splendored ruins of Ritigala. Sunrise over the Giritale tank. Elephant on the Habarana road. The best rice and curry in the world at the Habaran rest house.
31st night at an ocean front suite in Galle Face. PKS crying with happiness to see me. Akks and I rocking the dance floor. Having a drink with T.
The best news I have had on the way to the airport.
More good news on landing.
Most of the holiday was perfection but…
Who else but the girl could break my trip. Now firmly the ex-oneitis, cigarette burns and fork stabbings later. Attitude and ignoring for some unfathomable reason (await a pre-written post on that). Her face when I walked into the Lounge to greet R, strangely uncertain and then blank. A trend for the rest of the holiday.
On the way to the airport:
I’m off, take care.
What’s the matter with you? Why are you acting like this?
You really don’t know? I don’t think you’re that dumb.
I don’t know…goodbye.
I’ll miss you.
It’s strange to lose a friend after three years, especially when I can’t figure out why the friendship ended. As R says ‘these things happen.’
I try not to snap, but K pissed me off. I pushed his head under the water and snapped. He tried to come up but I put my knee on his neck and pushed down. Luckily R saw the look in my eyes and pulled me off. I’ve only ever snapped twice in my life now…fingers crossed that won’t happen again.
It always amazes me how important and amazing my friends are too me. Which made the bitterness of what happened even harder to swallow. I miss the boys and the akkis. I miss the friendship I had with the girl, irrespective of the other possibilities. I’m glad I met a couple of new amazing people. 2009 should be interesting and bittersweet but I have hope.
Great things are afoot.