I've been all over the place and not physically.
It's a consequence of living on two continents. London is my home but Cape Town is my playground.
A home is where your life is, a playground is where your heart is. A playground is not somewhere that you could live.
It's Sunday night, it's slightly warm outside but we're inside watching X-Factor.
One week ago...
Last Sunday night I spent with Avie and Alex. It was so special.
Tomorrow they have a life to live. I have one too. And mine is in London. Theirs is in Cape Town.
There is a moment when you go 'ohmygod, is this my life?' A moment when you ask 'shit, is this my home?' But the sad and difficult truth is that London is my home.
When I got onto the Tube last Tuesday morning, after arriving from Johannesburg the woman said "the next stop is Finchley Road, please mind the gap between the train and the platform". I felt like I was home. I felt a sense of belonging.
But this is leaving Cape Town...
Heading southward we took off and headed over False Bay banking left and then pointed north to Johannesburg over Somerset West.
Here we are, coming in to land at Johannesburg...
Yeah, I'm being sentimental.
It's so difficult not knowing where your heart is. Or rather, it's so shit to realise that your head and your heart are not in the place where you'd like them to be.
Tomorrow there's no more of this mawkish crap. To be honest, I find it difficult to type.
The sad truth is that in around 93 days I am flying back to Cape Town for the summer and New Year.
Maybe some changes need to be made. Maybe I need to pull myself together. I don't know.
Will you join me tomorrow for a fresh start?
No drinking. No smoking. No bad behaviour.
All pretend happiness.
All make-believe peace.
Please. Tomorrow will you, with me, pretend that my life is normal? Will you treat me as one of your own?
Tomorrow is beautiful. It is a new day. Can we call it quits until tomorrow?
(The pathetic thing is that I have nothing more to type because I can't say the words.)