Wrong choices.

After my grandfathers funeral, and coming back to this place that had so many ghosts. Life seemed meaningless, my glory days were over.

Started school at Norman Henshilwoods, to get away from the locals that I grew up with. A school with a little more free reputation, where I could start over anonymous. It was now half way through the first year of high school, and all seemed well. Didn’t want to participate in sports even though we had to. Hated school again.

Dagga smoking

Remember starting smoking and now it felt good, had to steal money to buy smokes now. Shortly after while playing ‘pinball’ some guys came over and saw that my fingers were yellow with nicotine. They asked if I smoked ‘Dagga’ weed, I said without fear yes, after that evening there was no way back. I finally found something to fill the hole in my life, and a lot of new and cool friends. At school I was very popular with guys from different gangs, I was known as very naughty. Had a creatively evil and had no fear for life or death. Most of my friends were in ‘ The Mongrels’ but I preferred been a lone wolf going and doing my own thing. Used to walk all over the place, til the early hours of the morning not wanting to sleep. Was like one possessed, walking and walking. Remember the African people would mutter as I passed by, a few times they told me that I had the Devils eyes. I was a terrible rasist, actually hated all that weren’t friends.

Then my mom and family moved down to Muizenberg, where I was allowed to use the spare room in the back garden. There I got many new friends, and smoked huge amounts of pot. Ended up leaving school as soon as I was sixteen, saw myself as a lazarone, beach bum. Didn’t want to work, just wanted to be left alone. Begged for money on the train stations, made smokes from butts along the road, stole milk money from peoples homes and robbed some homes. Wold hike lifts to get around, or bunk rides on the train and sometimes hanging on the outside.

Life was also a party, even if we weren’t invited. We were the coolest at the disco’s had the prettiest girls with us but weren’t girlfriend material. We were the 70’s headbangers with blown minds, not very fashionable and without responsibility. Those days I spent a lot of time fishing, so my jeans were always dirty and I hated clean jeans.

This lifestyle was soon to end, I’d registered to join the army not realizing what it was all about.