Posts Tagged ‘Rant’

Can’t We All Just Get Along?

September 3, 2012

If I have one flaw…it’s that I can be quite contradictory depending on my mood. (If I have two flaws, the other is probably my humility)….

And if there’s something that a run of bad health and stress does to a person, it gives one perspective, and an appreciation for what and who is in your life, and subsequently, who is missing from your life.

Over the last few weeks I’ve found myself really searching for some sort of comfort in friendships. And in the great spirit of burying the hatchet, and extending the olive branch, I’ve tried to make peace with those friendships I’ve thought lost.

However, some instances have been a complete shock to the system, and here’s where the contradiction part comes into play.

I’ve always said that I don’t give a hoot (owl speak) about how people think of me, and that I will always continue to live my life by my rules (geez give me a leather jacket and motorcycle and I’m a 50s rebel). However, recently I found out that there are those I once thought of as friends just don’t like me (anymore).

Hold the phone….someone doesn’t like me???

I know right…that’s just madness.

Off course, I can’t leave well enough alone and pursued these now former friends to find some sort of reasoning.
This first told me that she felt that I had used her has some sort of experiment to entertain the “new me”, and that I was arrogant about my ways in doing so…which struck me as just plain old bizarre seeing as they all we did was meet up for a fruit juice one evening when she was in the country and reminisce about the old days, then say our goodbyes about an hour later. How very arrogant of me I guess…making the effort to see an old friend when they visiting the country sure isn’t what it used to be I guess.

The second I had seen often over the years, but we had had a falling out while back because she didn’t like the fact that I didn’t like advice she had given me…

I had in the meantime become friends with one of her friends, who I still chatted with. I often asked about our common friend but never got much response.

So I mailed my long lost friend saying I missed our pop culture chats and such. The reply I got back was certainly not what I expected. She went on to say how I spoke shiz about her and called her psycho to her friend. I confronted the friend and showed the chat history, which she immediately denied and then said this is all so childish and she doesn’t want to get involved. It went back and forth a little bit, but essentially, I became the odd man out, and it was clear that the friendship was over based on a lie and hearsay.

Now, why am I so bothered about not being liked? I know I can’t be liked by everyone, and I’m certainly not the easiest person to be friends with, but there is something that bugs me to the core about people who have the complete wrong opinion of me, or allow other’s to make up their minds for then.

I like to be liked, but when someone doesn’t I just can’t let up until I know why.

There has thankfully been some really good outcomes with some friendships that have been given a second chance, which gives me hope, hope that you will always have the people in your life you are meant to have, and that sorry does still mean something to some people.

Can’t we all just get along?

Goodbye 2011…I Hardly Knew Ya!

December 26, 2011

The old saying goes, “What a difference a day makes…” but I’m pretty certain you can just as easily substitute it with a year.

That’s pretty much how I look back on 2011.12.26

Last year this time things looked so bright…After the most eventful year of my life, I was celebrating what I considered to hopefully be my last Christmas in this country, because my future looked so bright.

My employer at the time had turned down my voluntary retrenchment with the promise that they had big plans for me for the upcoming year, which included time overseas.

I was pretty well set financially, and I was at peace with everything and ready to pursue my new life and ambition.
As the year proceeded, those false promises became frustratingly clear, and for the next 8 months I was toyed around with unfairly, to the point where I realized there was no future where I was.

The year itself had been tough, with financial problems and being a victim of crime hitting me unexpectedly again, as usual, and the funds quickly started deteriorating. This wouldn’t have been a problem if said employer had actually come through on their promises about a change in my pay scale.

Of course, my plans for New York took several knocks, to the point of where I was getting so angry that everyone else was “stealing my idea” and making their way over there. Every time someone posted news or photos, it hurt me more and more. That’s how much I love that place.

Things went south very quickly. And as previously blogged, I decided to walk out on everything I had been doing for the last 5 years, because I had wasted the last year of my life.

The calendar year itself provided VERY few highlights, and of course, the last 4 months I have spent at home licking my wounds.

It pretty easy to pick out the two highlights of my year.

The first is very easy to pick out, as it’s something I’ve been wanting to do for the last few years, and finally realized it since I had all this time to myself. In fact, I’m using it right now. I created myself, a man cave…or as I like to call it, the Burg Cave. It was fully completed this week, and I will post some pictures if I ever get a decent camera. It provides me with my own space to find inspiration again. It allows me to step away from my problems and sadness and find joy in the things that make me happy.

The crazy thing is, I haven’t had much human contact this year either, which is why the second highlight of my year is so important.

I finally saw an old friend of mine after 20years. We had a good dinner and watched a movie. One of the most simple things two people can do together, and it meant so much to me, because I don’t have THAT person in my life that I can do that with. She has always been one of my favourite people, and great company, so I’m glad I finally got the chance to see her again after all these years. The timing probably wasn’t great because it was a month before my pending unemployment, and of course the lack of income (and automobile), is a bit of snag, but I would like to take the time to thank Kim for being so patient and understanding in our new found old friendship. I can’t wait to see you again.

So that’s it. Two single highlights in a year that will be considered an utter disappointment, and a wasted year overall, some by my doing, but a most through the selfish actions of others.

I won’t even delve into the lowlights of my year, because that’s a story for another time.

It’s hardly surprising of course, 11 is my unlucky number, and for the last few years, I believed my untimely demise would arrive on 11/11/11.

It didn’t…and now I hope to make 2012 something special, and its starts with finding a new job, finding the confidence in myself and my talent again, putting in an effort with my friends, even if it means doing something I’m not used to doing. And hey, maybe I’ll even get some nookie next year.

The nookie, the what, the nookie, the what, it’s all about the nookie!

So good riddance 2011.

The Truth Shall Set You Free

July 26, 2011

A few weeks ago I posted a picture of myself with my idol, Bret The Hitman Hart -one of the happiest moments of my life. However one person commented saying “you could’ve looked slightly more excited.” I was actually offended by the comment. I don’t really smile anymore, and I by no means have a big toothy Cheshire cat smile, however this was the happiest I’ve been in years. I don’t smile anymore. You won’t really find pictures of smiling.

I’ve mulled over that comment since it was said, and with the events of the last few weeks, the one question that I keep asking myself is, what makes me happy?

I’m not happy, I haven’t been for the longest time. I have fleeting moments where thing are tolerable. But nothing more than that.

My life has been a constant struggle and the truth of the matter is the sadness has engulfed me.

It’s very difficult to explain, and when I do try, I get copious amounts of advice about how things can’t be that bad, or how things will turn around, or that there’s something out there waiting for me. All words which people feel they should say to help “keep my chin up”.

Honesty has always been a very important part of my blog (and my life), and right now I’d life to address three aspects of my life namely Life, Love & Career.

Life

I’m tired…Of everything. I can’t do it anymore. Not the way I’m living it anyway. I get so many people making suggestions as to what to change in my life, but they don’t know the truth, and they don’t know the pressure I deal with while constantly having to keep my depression in check.

I can’t deal with the repetition. From coming home and having to hear the same stories about how the dog pee’d on the potplants or what the neighbours did, to hearing the same jokes from the same people.

I can’t deal with this country, the government, the strikes, the shortages, the service, the delivery, the lack of educated people.

I can’t travel on the roads anymore. I can’t deal with the complete arrogance and apathy towards the rules of the road. It’s bad. Real bad. It’s the wild wild west out there.

There are so many people that tell me that I must be thankful for what I’ve got, but the truth of the matter is I’m not. Their idea of happiness is a 9-5 job with an income, a house with 4 walls and a family. That’s not my idea of happiness. I believe there is more out there for me. Please don’t get me wrong, if this is what makes you happy, then good for you, you’ve found your element of happiness, but please don’t try and convince me your way is my way.

I can’t fake a smile, and laugh anymore. People have started to notice too. I fear I’m becoming bitter towards the world.

Love

I am so lonely. Unbelievably so. Being a 33yr old guy without a partner, lover, girlfriend is hard. (That’s what she said.). I’m so tired of people saying that “when the time is right”, “she’s out there”, “it’s better to be single” you know, all the clichéd comments. Most times they come from people who are trying to tell you they’re not interested in you so don’t even try, or they are somebody who is constantly moving from “The one” to “the next one”.

The truth is, there’s a very good chance I will be alone forever. It happens to people. You’re only trying to convince yourself when you keep telling me I’ll find someone. Stop.

There are people I’m interested in. They know it (some are probably trying their best to avoid it too). But I come with so much baggage that it’s over before it can go anywhere.

I’m not saying I’m looking for my soul mate, not by a long shot. I just wish I had someone to share my dreams and desires with. Someone I can spend time with, someone who makes me feel like a human being physically. Yes, I said it, I would like to knock boots with someone. I need to feel something in my life. And feeling wanted and desired is a massive hole (that’s what she said) in my life.

I’m so tired of serving my time in this world alone. There are so few people who truly understand how lonely and alone I am. I wish someone would show interest in me, realistically. I can’t be anything other than what I am.

It’s just that i think fighting this battle and chasing the dream would be that much easier and more believable with someone by my side.

Career

I’ve been working non stop since the month left High School in 1996. My movement from one vocation to the next has been well documented. I’d never spent more than a year and a half at a particular job, and constantly found myself wanting to move on to the next challenge. It’s those facts that make my 5 year term at my current job such an anomaly. I love what I do, always have, but the time has come to move on. I won’t go into detail for obvious reasons.

I’ve been dealt a hand that has forced me to play the role of husband, home owner, and provider. This saddens me every day that my life is slipping away without ever having the opportunity to make selfish decisions.

Being the sole bread winner taking care of a parent, a house, replace things that break, need to be fixed and debts that aren’t mine is a task I’ve been doing for the longest time. I just can’t do it anymore. When I tell people how much I earn, their first words are “how do you survive??”

Surviving is easy. I’ve done it my whole life. But I need to live.

I always felt my job would be my key to getting out. Out of this life, this country, this personal hell that saddens me a little more every day. I’ve given everything I have to it. The truth is, its not going to give back.

I get it. I’m just a spoke in the wheel. I will never be the wheel itself.

Sometimes I feel live I’ve given up on what make’s me ME. I’m a creative soul who needs to be inspired, and for a while now I feel like I’ve locked that part of me away.

These are the realities of my life. I know a lot of what I said above will anger people. There will be those who once again dispense advice and attempt to get me to stop feeling sorry for myself. They will say they understand. They will mean it.

All I know is I’m the loneliest and saddest I’ve ever been in my life. I’m making hard decisions every day of my life.

We all know what my dream is, but I fear I won’t survive long enough. So until then…the idea of finding a cabin in the woods to be alone in, you know to grow my beard and write my books, is a pretty decent second choice.

Return Of The Burg – A blog that will enlighten and enrage

June 21, 2011

As a people observer, it’s always fascinating to me to watch how people react to something that’s perceived as out of the norm.

Do they overreact and panic? Do they become more casual than normal? Or do they simply take time to assess what’s going on and react accordingly.

I recently decided to take time away from everything and everyone. The blog, social networks and the cyber world at large I stopped cold turkey.

I didn’t go anywhere…I got up and went to work as per normal. For everyone who saw me on a daily basis, it was business as usual.

However, on the social network’s there was panic!
People were concerned I had done something stupid! I had decide to cash it all in!

There was a flood of emails, wall comments and BBM messages.

In truth nobody picked up a phone to see if I was “ok”, wait I lie…someone did, but they had an old number from before I got hijacked, so they are excused.

There were those that didn’t notice, and those that didn’t care.
It’s ok, people have their own lives. I understand that.

My choice to step away from all things online was a very deliberate choice. Maybe it was a lethal cocktail of burnout, pressure and just being totally sick of the fakeness of it all.

People annoyed me. They still do.
But I’ve all but turned into a hermit, so it’s not unexpected.

I’ve never hidden away from the openness of my life; I’ve always shared everything with you guys. Good, bad and controversial.

However for once, I needed to totally close myself off from opinions and advice.
I needed to take in and deal with the stress of the world, the tragedies I was dealing with and the frustrations that have me hanging on the edge.

There was a lot I could share with everyone to help them understand what was going on. But most of it was not my story to tell…not yet anyways. (when its turned into a thrilling tv land miniseries, then everyone will know)

My work has become my sole focus.
It’s my home away from home.
It’s my substitute of inspiration.
It’s my ticket out of here.

I’m now at a point I’m comfortable in my position and direction at work, that I feel the wheels are in motion for my future.

With that I feel ready to focus on other aspects of my life.

My New York trip will happen. Solo it seems. Unfortunately my “deserving partner” did a disappearing trick of her own and only decided to sms me several months later to see how I am. It always hurts when it feels like i’m chasing after someone to be my friend or to be liked. Taste of my own meds one might say.

I’ve seen the worst of life these last few months, I’ve taken a beating emotionally. I’ve made life harder on myself and I’ve fought the good fight.

However, I do feel ready to step back into life and try something different, because Lord knows the last few years haven’t worked.

My blogs will return to the focus of observing people and the world in complete honesty. I will offer my thoughts on topics most people shy away from, but i’ll always keep it honest, even at the good chance of being completely disliked.

I guess I’m more open to change now. More open to experiencing life. But ultimately more understanding that people will let you down, they will over promise, they will say things just because they think it’s the right thing to say, but in the end they do all these things because they are human, who am I to judge them because of that?

….well I am The Burg…and I’m back!

Live as The Burg. Die as The Burg

April 2, 2011

I’ve always been one to mind my own business. I tend to keep my head down when I walk…perhaps occasionally staring at a beautiful woman, but never ever have I been one to go up to someone and start a conversation.

However, for some reason (I have my theories), I’m ALWAYS the person someone else comes up to and engages in a debate.

If I go alone to a movie, concert, sporting event or other function, I’m the one who people turn and look at. Even in shopping centers people turn at stare. My mom always asks me why they do that, and I always just say they must think I’m famous.

Sometimes its understandable, to a point, because I’m wearing a sports team’s shirt which is the universal ice breaker. Or perhaps its a unique tshirt that attracts someone’s attention. If that happens, I suck it up and without being rude, engage in a brief conversation with whomever makes the approach.

Today however, I had to deal with an incident that happens far too often in my life.

You see, for a lack of a better term, I tend to have a unique appearance. I always have. Even in high school there was always something that brought attention to me…such as my slicked back hair…which earned me a nickname from the geniuses in the year ahead of me of “Slick”.

Till this day, each and everyday I always have a different hairstyle. I used to have a different colour every few months too.

I always wear something unique. Whether it be a bandanna, a hat, a trenchcoat, my legendary pant, a see through shirt, a white suit, a fake snake skin shirt. Whatever suits my mood.

One of the things I hate about this country, and I truly do, is that there is very much a close mindedness about individuality.

You can really dress us and walk down the high street, or go to the mall, or just dress good for dressing good sake.

There is always someone who will judge you or make a comment, or compare you to someone trending.

Years ago when I had corn rows in my hair, I was constantly called Beckham. Cos you know, that one time he came to South Africa, he had it done.

I went through a phase where I wore eyeliner and a smart shirt and tie. I was called one of The Parlotones.

Now, because I have a loooong beard I am constantly called Amla. This, for my international readers, is a reference to a national cricket player named Hashim Amla, who happens to have a long beard too, because he is Muslim.

In the last 2 weeks, I think I have been called this at least 8 times.

Today was by 2 drunken Afrikaans guys in a shopping center. Who started insulting me further because I gave them an unimpressed stare. (To be fair, my p*ssed off look is legendary, and has been featured in many films).

It just saddens me that people always feel compelled to mock and ridicule someone just because they themselves are not an individual.

I do believe if I lived in New York or London, I wouldn’t stand out as much, which makes me want to be there even more, just so I can be left alone.

I’ve dealt with it all my life, because I’ve never thought twice about trying something different. Sometimes its a popular choice, other times not, but I’ve always felt I’ve that a good head on ones shoulders and a pair of balls will go a long way.

If this means putting up with drunken concert goers throwing beer on me because I won’t humour them, mean kids who try and impress their friend by insulting me when they walk past, parents who judge me, and colleagues who feel the need to insult me to appear witty, then so be it.

Live as The Burg. Die as The Burg.

What’s in a name? Well it depends how it’s spelt…

March 9, 2011

It’s safe to say I’m getting progressively crankier in my old age…I don’t deny this. There are a lot of day to day things that irritate me…some more than others, but there is one thing that never fails to get me seething just at the mere sight of it.

My name is Shaun Myburg. (Burg to my friends.)

I’ve always had a big problem with my name being spelt wrong. The most common mistake is Shaun being spelt wrong…or an extra “h” being thrown onto the end of my surname…when people assume I’m Afrikaans.

Sure it happens. It’s no big deal right?

Well, when your entire career (and future career) depends on the cachet of you name…it’s darn important.

Ever since I was a kid, I was lucky enough win competitions on a regular basis, which by proxy, meant my name appeared in magazines or newspapers for the whole country to see. I loved that feeling of seeing my name “in lights”…it always just felt right.

It was a naturally stepping stone for my name being on a byline or in film and TV credits. I was a star in the making…ok…ego aside, who doesn’t get a rush from seeing their name in print? After all, that’s why we all Google ourselves these days.

That being said…every time there was a misprint of my name in the paper, it was equally there for the world to see…

A double edged sword if any.

All through school, when certificates were handed out I loved seeing my name spelt in that almost-old-English-font for achievement in this or that. I cleaned house in primary school with certificates, but as High School came around and my personal life took a tumble, the certificates stopped coming.

In fact, through my 5 years of High School, there was only one certificate I ever got…however it was a big one.

You see, I had the pretty remarkable record of never missing a single day of school. EVER. Despite everything I went through, I always went to school.

So come the end on my 12 year schooling career, I was to be acknowledged for a PERFECT attendance record. Some may be impressed, and others may think it’s the nerdiest thing ever…well newsflash, there were only two of us who got that certificate, and neither of us were anywhere close to nerds.

At the awards evening, when my name was called, it was all slow motion as I walked up on stage to receive this mark of achievement. In my head there was a standing ovation, there were people chanting my name and there was a beautiful girl awaiting to hand me my award. Of course, none of those existed in reality, but there was that piece of paper that made it all worth it.

I collected it, flashed my million dollar smile to the paparazzi and made my way back to my seat.

Then it all came crashing down as I noticed not just my first name, but also my last name were spelt wrong on the certificate.

So my 12 years of schooling is perfectly captured in that incorrectly spelt certificate.

The years that followed had their moments of frustration.

Like this one time when I was working at a computer expo for my late cousin, and the name tag they had printed out for me read

Shawn Mabuna

Every person who came to my stand asked my about my strange surname (especially for a white guy living in South Africa…). Of course I spend the whole time explaining it was a major typo instead of actually getting any business for our company.

As I entered the corporate world, things became even more tense.

From computer login names to my email address, EVERY first day was met with an incorrect spelling of something or the other.

On the first day I starting working at one call centre, they had a digital display board that not just had the stats of how many calls were answered, holding and dropped, but also a welcome message for the new staff…which would have been cool if it didn’t read: “Welcome to new staff members Sahun Myburg”….I was called Sahun for the rest of that day.

When my film, TV and print career eventually took flight, I became even more pedantic about having my name spelt right. This was easier to manage as it’s an expected concern within these fields. And thank you lordy lord, my name is correctly spelt on IMDB!

In my current job, I’ve been here for 5 years, so there’s really no excuse for spelling my name wrong in emails.

It still happens though.
I hate it, and speak up about it, which probably makes people think “geez, relax guy its just a typo”…but after working with someone with 5 years, there’s really no excuse to spelling their name wrong in an email or document…right?

I’m very protective over my name…because one day I do believe it will be a brand. It may just be a pipe dream…but it’s really my most valued asset.

Good(bye) blog!

January 19, 2010

Conspicuous by my absence, I was seriously considering just walking away from this blog cold turkey…heck it wouldn’t be the first time id walked away from a blog i’d invested so much time and effort it.

Last night however, i had a good think about it, and felt that i’d accomplished a lot in the short time I’ve been running this blog, and felt it deserved a proper send off. Explanation if you will.

The intention of the blog was to always speak the truth about the irritation and idiocracy (yes it’s a word…based on the movie of the same name) of people in general.

However, somewhere along the line it became a forum of anger and fruitless loathing. Each and every passing day I am in this country, I am becoming more and more hateful. That’s the truth. I am not proud to be a South African. The country is NOT getting better. I do not feel safe here, and I by no means see a future for myself here.

In truth. I checked out a long time ago. My mind and soul have been in New York for some time now, and I’m official on the path to get my body there.

There in lies the problem for a lot of you people (friends and haters). You question my decision, my dreams, my ambitions. As a South African you are naturally wrapped up in your own sense of self importance. Your narrow mindedness is something you unwittingly try and enforce on others.

There is a bigger world out there. There are bigger dreams out there.
There are dreamers out there. And I am one of the biggest.
I’ve become a much harder person over the last two years, and there is a reason for that, but ive also learned a helluva lot more perspective.

As I try and deal with my frustration of the people of South Africa and the country as a hole (pun intended), I find myself becoming a ticking time bomb. This blog has slowly become an easy way for me to complain and fester internally as a result.

This is unfair on both you and I.

I have thus made a decision to not let these irritations get the better of me. People are people. And if you don’t understand my stances on these things, I feel no need to converse with you.

This does not mean however that I will go about my daily business and fake a smile.
I will simply just cut those things out my life. People. Places. Situations.

I’ve distanced myself from social networks to a huge degree, and feel that I was letting myself because more about reactions to what I said, rather than about the point of what I was saying, because let’s be honest, most people are sheep who can easily be lead into a moral trap. Where is the fun in that?

Now before you naysayers jump on the “he’s being negative” band wagon, let me tell you where my focus is.

Through this blog I have amazingly been able to I recognize my gifts, my talents, my road to success. I will be turning my writing focus onto more creative projects, storytelling, projects that are both original and not influenced by hate.

I will however also continue my other blog, The New York one, because I feel very strongly about my journey to get there, and the obstacle that will try and stop me.

People say I write best when I’m angry and ticked off about something. I used to think that…but now I realize I write best when I’m passionate.

If you think this blog is simply an arrogant rant. You may be right…but the point is…i am better than this country and a helluva lot of people in it, and I deserve to be happier than this, but no longer will people dictate my happiness. The country and its people doesn’t deserve that power over me.

BurgNYC2010