It's Here and then it's Gone

It's currently three hours into the 31st and the last day of January. There is something about time -about dates- that makes me pause, trying to remember what this day represents in my past and to figure out its significance in the years to come--will I remember my thoughts right now? what will I remember of 0300hrs, 31.01.2017 in 0300hrs, 31.01.2018?

Sometimes I want to hold on to days; to be intentionally reflective and to be acutely aware of the passage of time, to track where my thoughts wander and (occasionally) lead me to, to process how this moment is shaping my future self in ways that, right now, I am unable to explain. That said, sometimes time reminds me of people who may or may not be in my life right now. Today for instance (and the seven previous 31st of Januaries) I remember a classmate of mine who sat behind me in class. Close to a decade later, I am no longer in touch with this girl. She turns one year older today which is a stark reminder that I will do the same in about five short months. On days like today, I wonder how she is, how time has treated her, who she has become as a consequence of time, what opportunities time has afforded her and most importantly who she is becoming.

The title of this post is the song Time Decides by Trent Dabbs.

dear 2016,

somebody said you'd disappear in the crowd. i didn't understand then, i don't understand now. throughout your existence, time has been at the forefront of my mind. like, how long does it take for a contract to end, the time it takes to hear from a prospective employer, the number of weeks before a deadline, the hours it takes to write an essay, the number of days it takes to edit said essay, the minutes it takes to construct a text message, how long it takes for someone to read and respond(or not) to a text, how long before you unrattle my brain.

you weren't like rain, you were more like a sea. i wasn't prepared for the flood you'd cause. i floundered, 2016. i tried to swim my way through you. the havoc you've left behind will take a tremendous amount of self discipline and self care to repair because, 2016, i think of self care as warfare, and you've done quite a number on me.

i hated every new day that reminded me of what a failure i became under your watch. every time my white curtains announced a new day i felt like crying. but i didn't because you, 2016, are heartless like that. instead, my eyes became teary with each rise of the dawn. -if you have time(which you don't) i could tell you about the number of times i saw the start of a new day and the end of it, because, unlike normal people, i couldn't summon sleep whenever darkness came upon the sky. i was insomniac throughout your existence, 2016. while i thank you for this because i was able to finish my work before the deadline, i can't help but think of all those sunrises i missed because i fell asleep at six o'clock in the morning- there are times during the day when i decided not to wear my sunglasses just to know how it feels to cry. but just in case you didn't know, tears from sun sensitive eyes are different from tears from hurt filled eyes. you try to hide sun sensitive tears from the public that looks at you with pity, while tears from hurt filled eyes don't care who is looking.

2016, i thought you'd be painless. you weren't that at all. you did what you had to do. i guess it would be rude of me not to thank you for teaching me how to be patient, how to let go of the control i thought i had. so, i am ready to let go of you, but only with love, which, in all honesty, i found it hard to muster. while others dare you to get harder, i can't. i wouldn't. you've proved to me how hard you can get already. you couldn't possibly get harder. i've been a television version of a person with a broken heart. now i want to know how it feels to live a life without you around.

only with love,
the hedonist

this post was inspired by the national's pink rabbits.

I've Heard it Takes Some Time to Get it Right

There are nights, like tonight, when the moon is out, nights that fill me with inexplicable happiness. There are more important things that I could be doing, that I should be doing. Instead,  I am sitting by my window looking at the moon and its surrounding stars. Tonight is different though: I am asking myself questions; 'am I falling apart?' 'am I making a mess of things?' There is so much going on in my personal life, reasons for my absence from the blog. But right now, I feel like I can trust in the moon to lead me home (wherever that is). I also hope that I'll get home soon (whenever that is).

The title of this post is from the song Wasting My Young Years by London Grammar.

What you Want Can Become Something you Need

Sometimes all I really want to kick start my day is a huge bowl of fruit and a much craved cigarette. Other times it is a good beer buzz, classic rock and a book I can't stop reading--especially on Sunday mornings. And sometimes, all I want is to make an elaborate meal for myself (even though I must confess that I am very lazy and what is elaborate to me is a very simple meal to most people). But there are times, like now, when I have taken far too many shots of vodka and all I want to do is sit and read books that I will be embarrassed to say I have read and listen to the radio (because at this time there are no radio presenters and I can't control the playlist) till six in the morning. And in this alcohol induced state, I think this is really what I want. It is what I need. 

The title of this post is from the song Can We Work it Out by Gordi.

I Don't Want to Let You Down

It's been a while since I posted something here. But I don't have time for something long. I just had to say this: My favourite artist Sharon Van Etten has an EP out. Go check it out. It's called I Don't Want to Let You Down. My favourite singles so far are Tell Me and I Always Fall Apart

When There's Memory To Be Made

There is something about memory that I find fascinating. It is interesting how our minds filter things; losing certain aspects of occurrences while keeping others; altering those kept aspects and making us question if what we remember really happened.

I might have mentioned how I was in a road accident late last year. And this incident is, for the most part, out of my mind. Like I can't quite tell where exactly the accident took place, even though I have used that route numerous times since. What is interesting is that occassionally, I get vivid images of how everything went down: from the second I thought that we were in trouble to the point of impact to the subsequent overturning and the lingering screams. The first time this happened was a few weeks after the accident. I was on my way to town when my mind registered, somewhat belatedly, that the song playing on the matatu's radio was the same one that was playing on the day that I got into that accident. Traffic was moving slowly and I actually found it weird when the matatu I was in got into a fender bender with the vehicle in front. If I were a superstitious person, I would have thought that song was cursed. But alas, I am not. I just find that song a trigger. I can't tell you the title, because I don't know it. I also don't know the artist. But it is a ragga song. I keep on telling myself that I will look it up. But I haven't. And I think I owe it to myself to do it. But amidst all these,  there is a chance that maybe this song was not the one playing at the moment it happened. Another possibility is that I may not have heard of this song before. Maybe it never even played. I will never be sure of these details.

All these, I must say, is influenced by the song Neighbourhood #1 Tunnels by Arcade Fire that I have on repeat right now

 'Then, we try to name our baby
But we've forgot all the names that
 The names we used to know
But sometimes we remember our      bedrooms
 And our parent's bedrooms
 And the bedrooms of our friends
 And then we think of our parents
 Well, whatever happened to them?"

Memory. Choosing whatever it wants to remember.  Letting me know, in no uncertain terms, that I can't hurry it. Keeping things from me when I desperately need them. Choosing to ignore my pleas to point me in the right direction.

The title of this post is from the song The Only Ones Who Know by The Arctic Monkeys.

Get into My Ear: Cough Syrup by Young the Giant

I am about to break down. It's no longer a matter of if I'll break down, it's a matter of when I'll break down. It's annoying. Being on the verge of something and never really getting there and not knowing when you'll get there. Such is my life right now and the reason behind my absence from the blogosphere. So in an effort to find my footing again, I've been listening to Cough Syrup on repeat.

Favourite Lyrics

Life is too short to even care at all
I am losing my mind, losing my mind, losing control

If I could find a way to see this straight
I'd run away to some fortune that I, I should have found by now
And so I run to the things they said could restore me
Restore life the way it should be
I am waiting for this cough syrup to come down

Life is too short to even care at all
I coming up now, coming up now out of the blue
These zombies in the park they're looking for my heart
A dark world aches for a splash of the sun