Plans, Plans, Plans

Molweni
(A general greeting in my home language- isiXhosa)

Now just a reminder, that all blog entries are written 3 weeks in advance. So basically this was written on the 26th of December still.

Plans for the festives you ask? Cape Town! A city oozing with a variety of fishes, wines and hard liquors. All of which collectively tantalize me from the thought. I will be visiting "family", of whom I have not seen of spoken to in a little of over a year. I am a bit chilled at the thought really. Reviving a conversation with them, last spoken a year ago! What makes me quiver even more is that I had deleted one of them on BBM as I do when I feel threatened by the contact. I swore to add her on watsapp. I saved her number, yet I failed to send that message.
Soon after I mistakenly blocked my phone, so I lost her number.
 Fuck.
 This very true story of mine somehow sounds like a load of bullshit when spoken aloud, aint'it.

What am I to do?

Carry on as we had last left things?
I'm nervous.
My hatred for the human soul makes me unable to uphold an upbeat conversation with "them", in the absence of alcohol that is.
Because.
With IT. I can conquer any obstacle. In actuality, when I am intoxicated I make it my life's mission to be "liked" by every human I come into contact with. Almost in a desperate attempt to be accepted as one of them
-the humans.
As I myself do not classify myself as one of them.
I am something different. A roaming shell, whose soul is filled with innocence and ignorance. As is so with a toddler or even a buddy (dog). In search of love.The love that was taken away from me.
Buma (my son).
I try to lurk for it else where.
The World. The humans, they force me to abandon my heart filled motto. To become like one of them. If not I am too week to survive.
Well maybe I am.
Have I drifted aside?
Let's see if Cape Town changes my mind.
Cape Town.
Buckle up, I'm on my way.

Bottle in hand
-Gran(^•^) Dad