'Here roams Charl Barry and his dog Floyd.'
Not 'lay'... 'roams'.
If I die first, my ashes must wait for him.
If he dies first, his ashes wait for me.
We will spend eternity together.
Isn't that so?
Picasso's dogs... he had a little sausage dog like Floyd.
He drew them and called them The One Line Dogs.
He started at one side and he ended up on the other side,
not lifting his pencil.
Pink Floyd... my dog...
without him?
I'm getting tears in my eyes in a way.
This boy saved my life.
He's just another human living with me.
People may say I'm crazy or stupid.
But I don't need more than him.
Of course I need people to talk to...
And if he could speak it would fix up that problem too.
He just took loneliness away.
(The old Charl... what were you searching for?)
(Because you obviously weren't that happy?)
Sex, Drugs and Rock & Roll...
What else was I searching for?
I was just living the life of a rocker.
I never picked up the guitar, but I lived the life.
And that suited me.
And I probably would have still carried on till this day
if I didn't have my Damascus moment
and thought this has got to stop.
My new life started... 7th of the 7th, 2001.
I was lying in my bed
and my ex came to my house.
She looked at me and she said to me,
'Would you like your son to see you like this?'
'Like what you are now... there... here... you...'
'Lying in your own vomit and whatever you're lying in.'
'Would you like your son to see this?'
And I thought no.
That is when I saw clarity and I thought
no, I don't want this.
And I stopped right there.
I stopped right there.
There is no such a thing as
you 'were' an alkie or a junkie.
The day that they put the body of yours
or the ashes of yours, wherever they want to put it,
that day you are finished.
But every other day is the same battle because
you're still alive, you're still an alkie.
You take one drink now and your body tells you
'I remember that, that was pretty cool.'
It's not easy at all.
Because a slip up can be a slip up
in a millisecond of your time.
I have to be my own best friend.
Because if I fall off that, I can be nothing for no one.
If you don't make peace with yourself,
and if you're still chasing the wind...
by now at my age I must know what makes me happy
and what doesn't make me happy.
There was a big fire in Barrydale last year.
I packed a bag for me and I packed a bag for Floyd.
And I realised how little I had with me
was all I need.
And he was part of it.
He had his own bag, ya, of course.
Floydie, come...
All of us need things
but we don't need to want things.
I've got good people in my life.
I've got my dog and I've got my music.
I've got my books.
And I don't really need anything more to make me happy.
Floydie...
Make do with what you've got.
Happiness comes from within.
It doesn't come from...
from having everything in this world.
If I hunt for anything more,
that would be the most selfish thing to do...
is to look for more happiness.
Everything that you must have in your life
you must be able to carry here.
My mum said to me once,
there is only one word you can put a 'te' in front of
in Afrikaans, and that's 'tevrede' (content).
Ek is tevrede. (I am content).
To become content, to be happy,
I don't think it's something that you can do overnight.
It's not a bolt of lightning coming out of the skies
and today you're happy.
It's a process... a process of seeing things
and like at school, subtract and add.
What works here? What doesn't work there?
And nobody can tell you what to do
to become happy, content, 'tevrede'.
Happiness is something only you would know.
(And are you content?)
Can't you see?
Are you blind?
Very!
I'm trying to live a good life
and I'm content.
That's it.
My story has come to an end.