Andre Labuschagne

"People say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one..." - John Lennon, Imagine.

I am a dreamer, a hopeless romantic and a wannabe revolutionary.

I write silly little poems, and a lot of the time I don't make any sense when I talk. I'm neurotic, a bit of a chain-smoker, and obsessed with music... I think and breathe lyrics. I don't sleep much and spend nights staring at the ceiling, painting pictures on my empty walls.

Some days I am God, on others the Devil. I struggle to find myself in this conspiracy of noise.

I struggle to find myself in this ocean of ideas and ideals. Some days I don't know who I am...

I am an empty page... Waiting for you to pour out your love like ink, like blood, and cover my emptiness...

I am ill-defined... There aren't enough words...

I am a frustrated poet, a love-drunk musician, a black-and-bitter coffee-drinking swivel chair philosopher and a really crappy sketch artist...

I am an unheard voice, a part-time lover and a full-time friend... I am a post modist saint and an anarchist. I am Africa in all its glory... I am the world...

I am the rage against the machine - I am a voice in the wilderness, a shot in the dark - I am the screams of the tortured and the cry of the victorious - I am a paradox, yet everything is monochromatic... Melodramatic...

I am a melody written on faded keys, vibrant and living - obscure lore hidden in the tonal dissonance, the modal modulated counterpoint... distorted frequencies of being... I wear my heart on a torn sleeve.

My reality bleeds into yours as our worlds collide. Collide with me... Look at me and see yourself, for I am human. I am nothing more and nothing less...

I am human...