It Never Rains Where I Stand – A.G. Diedericks

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It never rains where I stand.

Cape Town’s water drought is rapidly approaching level zero, the city needs it more than I do. You died and I’m still waiting for that tantalizing storm they warned me about.

Your family wept for you and chose to utilize me as their scapegoat, waiting for me to immolate my emotions with looks that showed why I’m at home with foreigners and a foreigner when I’m at home.

Maybe it’s ’cause I don’t remember the memories; and I’ve foraged… all through our black & white photo albums. All I saw was anger, mirrored in the glass I removed from her hair after you couldn’t find your direction in life. And how my contempt for you was only eclipsed with self-denigration for not doing anything about it when I was still a kid.

You took me to the shop and littered my pockets with Molly candy hearts whilst my hands were tucked underneath gun control; you always knew how to circumvent the blue man group. Days spent dreaming of a dreamless sleep, breathing in asbestos and secondhand crack. Wasting away any potential we had.

I don’t want to denounce you, though. Only a coward would tell this true story and not let you to defend yourself and it’s not all your fault. I made a promise long ago to never turn out like you; I’ve kept that promise, ’cause I’m worse.

I know that I could have made more of an effort, or any effort for that matter to help improve our relationship. I know you’re still looking down on me, thinking, “he’s so full of shit!” and the worst part is, you’re not wrong.

There’s so much more that I need to say, so much more that I could do; I want to pour it out, all over this city where I rummage in desperation for the greyest cloud, waiting for the shudder of your lightning, waiting for some semblance of my elusive humanity, waiting to tell you that I became a writer…

But it won’t rain. It never rains… not where I stand.

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25 thoughts on “It Never Rains Where I Stand – A.G. Diedericks

  1. Oh this is exquisite!
    This, here, is purity in form, complexity in nature and art in heart. This is profound in its nakedness and clarity of voice to such an extent that even commenting feels like i’m dirtying something.
    There are times, rare times, when written words speak with such quiet strength and honesty that even the angels in heaven lean in to listen, where words etch on bone and weave between synapses ensuring they’ll never be forgotten.
    Such is the weight of this piece. Well done AG

    Liked by 2 people

    • I don’t even know how to begin to respond to such magnanimous praise. It’s however, your encouragement and friendship that I’m most thankful for. I truly appreciate all that you do and all that you’ve taught me.

      Liked by 2 people

      • I reflect only the brilliance of what I see and if I am to teach you anything it’s to open your eyes to your beauty, both as a person and as a writer of phenomenal talent.

        Liked by 2 people

  2. Oh my, this is so sad. So incredibly beautiful, but so sad. It hit me in the very center of my heart. You know you have read something extraordinary when it makes you cry, and here I sit, tears streaming down my face.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. OH wow…this is another amazing example of prosetry at it’s finest. I especially love this:

    “Your family wept for you and chose to utilize me as their scapegoat, waiting for me to immolate my emotions with looks that showed why I’m at home with foreigners and a foreigner when I’m at home.”

    Truly wonderful A.G.!!!

    Liked by 2 people

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