I would rather get kicked in the balls

The sad part of losing someone and they will never know. The phases, the heartache and acceptance you go through. Yes I guess everyone has it, but yet I do believe everyone is different and does this differently.

If she knew. It would have been something different I suppose but I decided to write this, maybe somewhere someone will read this and say. Shit that’s rad bru, spot on…

So here we go. 

If she would have asked me for wisdom, I would have given her a recommendation now. If she ignores me I will upstage her. 

My destiny, this she will underestimate by a long shot, cause she will never know the lengths I would have gone. 

And sometimes I wonder if she is playing along…

I think far and in other dimensions, on how I could have turned it around. I just feel that I need to be lost, and never need to make another wish again

But the problem is when I am close to her.

 I will go through crowds of faces and be able to point her out. When I am in a crowd, I only think of her.

Day by Day I only think of her. Every time I pick up my ukulele, it ends up playing songs just for her. It is a serenade just for her of songs and dance. 

I might never loose again, but yet, will I ever win again.  I feel I never even got to know her completely or understood her totally. I sound useless without her, and I am useless without her.

I live a small and uncomplicated lifestyle. The easiness of it is underrated.

But I miss her close to me. In a church or in a bar, when we sleep and when we work, when I was weak and when I was strong. 

But she is free of this fight, cause without love there is nothing worth fighting for. Without love, there is nothing worth living for, and without love, I am nothing.

But day by day I think of her, looking in a crowd to maybe see her, everyday my chords play for her, a chance that maybe she might hear it and sing and dance to a one she used to love.

Peace, Love, PinkPudding 

Fucking up the recipe

Baking a cake 

So this blog is more than just baking a cake. You will need the following

Eggs, Butter,  Flour, Salt and Sugar. Also you will need Baking Powder, milk and Vanilla Extract.

When I met her she was everything I ever wanted, she was my sugar and she had that something special. That special mix of vanilla essence that makes a cake worth eating all by yourself. 

You take the flour and add your milk to it. This binds and wets the mixture, she also wetted my appetite for life. She made the dryness of everyday living and change it to something great. She changed the dullness and started creating something in me that could be anything. 

Once the mixture is binded add the salt, and sugar: this sweetens the deal and adds the one ingredient you cant consume on your own to a level where it is needed for the creation. I added maybe to much salt and the mixture was doomed to fail. But when this ever happens my mother taught me add a dash of lemon juice. This will save the cake. 

I never had the opportunity to add the lemon juice, I would have been able to turn it around, if only I could add the lemon juice…

Add your eggs. You have to break the eggs and the eggs will also brake. But we never even had a fight. We were the perfect ying and yang and we had the eggs without even breaking one. 

The baking powder gets added. This is to make the mixture rise in the oven. Not only to rise but add the fluffiness to your cake, light in the mouth and that texture that we all love in a cake. We added the baking powder and the memories were surreal, this cake had all the potential to win awards to show that cakes are the way to live. We had more fun memories during load shedding, more funny moments just buying milk at the grocer, we had the best time together than I previously had in a lifetime and there was no stopping it. We where like two peas in a pod, Chinese twins, a lifetime together would have never been enough. But I added to much salt…..

Once everything is mixed add the vanilla. She was the vanilla in my life. She was that one ingredient that made a difference. She was cool, she was cute, she funny and clever. Her morals made me even wonder of my own existence. She was Gansta as Fuck and we were on the brink of baking a kickass cake. 

We never got to this part and this is lining your baking pan with butter and put it into the oven. This is equivalent to time together. You added all the ingredients for a perfect partner, you did what the recipe said you followed every step and it would have been perfect. 

Once the cake is baked, it is your cake and you can have it. 

I never got to my cake, I never had the chance to eat it and savour it, I never had the chance to show the world my cake. I never had a chance to add the lemon juice.

Peace, Love and Pink Pudding