charlie-sunshine

My Bestie knotted the tie a few weeks back. Weddings can be hard, shifting family dynamics…even harder, but it’s all in aid of creating a more authentic experience on this blue space rock of ours.  Our story is a bit different….COWARDS!!!!!! Cowards that we are! Damn straight… luckily me and the Moth that is Awesome share the same genetic predisposition in avoiding family, tradition and generally whatever is expected of us. E-L-O-P-E-D!!!!!!!

But, Bestie is brave and beautiful and has more self-control and nerve to pull off a wedding in her pinky toe than both me and Moth’s neural pathways combined (so that’s a fuck load because psychedelics are just vitamins for the brain)!

At the time of our  flourishing dalliance (Mills & Boons much?….actually not), Moth and I were(are) a hot mess of loved up chaos hurtling towards each other at the speed of light. We’re much the same now, always in a constant state of flux between neurosis and passivity.  As young as we were (barely legal at the time on my part), we got official with the least amount of effort and minimal family interaction. We did throw a kick-ass celebration (before…of course), with our bestest and closest and got as bubbly as the stuff we were drinking. And on the day, after the official admin… we gave our 30 minutes grace to the Fam and fucked off to a secluded valley, deep in Wine Country with an undisclosed amount of the best chronic.

We were lights out by 9pm, Moth slept with a butcher’s knife under his pillow that night. That would ordinarily set of warning bells to anybody with an iota of common sense….but then you have to understand that he’s a city boy from Cape Town, with a hyped up view of farm invasions and a sense of adventure (i.e. looking for an appropriate time to stab someone in the eye and claim self-defence). Our relationship has advanced in a climate of external torment and difficulty, so there has never been space for much internal conflict. When we realised that we have Us; only then did we figure out that we don’t need Them or Stuff. So…. STUFF THEM!

He holds my hand when we cross the road. He encourages my flights of fancy. He keeps me grounded when I become deluded by grandeur. He’s made me believe in past and future lives. He offer’s me constant tech support (ahem!).  He’s been subjected to my constantly updated list of phobias and points of contention. He now eats green stuff and doesn’t survive solely on faces, Marlboros and Coke. He whoo’s me with cupcakes and ganja (like any good man should) and lets me sit in his lap when I’m sad. We don’t agree on everything and he never puts a new loo roll in the toilet when it’s done.  But fuck Chang(e)ing Him and Them and Stuff. We both accepted eachother voetstoets (as is) from the very beginning.

I don’t care much about The War on Terror or The War on Drugs (okay, the second one does concern me a tad). I am fighting a War on Trivial Bullshit, that sometimes overthrows even the most star crossed of lovers.

I am militant…. And it helps that Moth has elleventy- seven thousand hours of RPG and first person shooter experience.  We wage war….and why not? Especially when Love is at stake!