Prague beginnings - should I stay or should I go; Darlin' you've got to let me know

I feel like I am starting my life over again. Which I probably am, when all is said and done. Been here since Feb 23 and still no meaningful resolution to my discussion with the CEO. I am now in my 2nd residence of this episode of my life, and the plot has yet to thicken. First was an AirBnb, which tenure ran out 5 days ago; now in an expensive residence/hotel thing. Junior suite is the name. But the price is anything but junior. SDG2.5k until the end of April. Not sustainable. Especially if I don't get paid.

This really is the land that time forgot. Everything moves at a leisurely pace; except for the mighty Vlatva River, whose waters proceed at a roaring pace towards where I do not know. The architecture looks like it is stuck in some pre-Prussian revolutionary movie (obviously). Cobled street are the order of the day. I wonder when the trams arrived and replaced the clip pity clop of horse-drawn carts.

My mind is wandering again - as I find myself alone - again - in some bar with no company except a beer (which in truth is rather good company in these parts). Weekdays are tolerable because there is work to be done, and quite a lot of it. But weekends are a bit painful. Were it not for the odd tourist attraction, cheap beer and Netflix I'd be fucked.

Looking for an apartment is a pain in the ass. And I will have to get a trade license here in Praha in order to become practitioner of advertising in goos standing with the authorities. The brochure never said it would be this complicated.

enough for now.

The side we don't see. Until we see it.

Thursday 15 December 2016:

No need to be alarmed. At this stage, anyway. But I have been having thoughts of suicide of late. And of late, I mean for the past year or so. My life has been punctuated by extreme highs and extreme lows.

Wow. Friday 16 December evening: Chorine tells me she "wants out."

My world has collapsed - no to be overly dramatic. But I do feel like everything's fucked.

I gave up everything to be here. Car, bike, apartment, good job. Now I have nothing. I am an unwanted guest in someone's house.

I have no money. I'm barely a legal alien in this country. The whole of the past 12 years has flown out of the window.

Goodbye mom

Today my mother died. I woke up this morning to an email stating her time of death as some time around 8pm South African time. She had collapsed from lack of oxygen in her blood, and was admitted to ICU. It took about 2 hours for the shock to become real for me. By the time I arrived at work, I was a complete wreck. I suppose that this is understandable, although I had not imagined that it would affect me this badly. The grief came in waves. I'd feel ok for a time and then regress into a terrible state. My earlier feeling have given way to a kind of numbness now.

For the record- Steve Jobs 1955-2011

Godwin's law and Obama

I came across this while reading something in a completely unassociated context:

Godwin's law (also known as Godwin's Rule of Nazi Analogies or Godwin's law of Nazi Analogies) is a humorous observation made by Mike Godwin in 1990 which has become an Internet adage. It states: "As an online discussion grows longer, the probability of a comparison involving Nazis or Hitler approaches."

Put another way, Godwin puts forth the sarcastic observation that, given enough time, all discussions —regardless of topic or scope —inevitably wind up being about Hitler and the Nazis.

From Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Godwin%27s_law)

Which made me think of this:

Art Theft

I have become the victim of art theft. Does this make me a famous artist?

My friend, Duncan Wales, who lives in Accra, Ghana, snapped this pic; the jeep was one of the images from my exhibition in KL in 2009.

fortyfuckinthree

Another year has gone by. 43 and all washed up.

Recurring nightmare #2

I'm at the psychiatrist.

I tell him that I am being pursued by monsters.

He looks away and says: "You mean like this..."

When he turns back, he is one of them.

Recurring nightmare #1

I'm in some industrial place - think the deck of cargo ship, or something similar - it's never the same place twice, but always the same in spirit. People unknown are shooting at me. I cannot shoot back; I have no weapon.

Andrew appears and informs me that he has a vehicle secreted nearby, on which we may make good our escape. We go there; sometimes it's a scooter, sometimes a car.

Anyway, a chase ensues. We're heading for a safe place where one of my friends is waiting (never the same friend - always a different person).

Finally we get there. Thinking that we are safe, we disembark, only to find that my friend is now not our friend. He has betrayed us, and is now pointing his pistol directly at me.