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why am i letting it go?

Theres a time and place for everything … apparently. According to ‘the wise’, the bible, ancient scholars … important peeps – apparently.

But as I was pondering my shizz this arvo; and ruminating on shit I’d read in the last couple days … things I’ve learnt … things I’ve said … things I’ve Had to say … I came up with the above short liner – ‘a time and place for everything’ bullshit.

Not really understanding what the fuck that had to do with anything, I left it.

Till about 10 minutes ago.

You see …

I hold onto shit, because its mine and because some ancient white twat told me to let go of it.

And that sums up my lifes work really.

If you Tell Me I should do something, by fuck, I won’t do it.

If You suggest politely, that I might like to think about doing it ‘such-in-such’ a way, because it worked for You; by fuck, I won’t do it.

Why?

Because it’s not my choice.

You can’t manipulate Me into making Your choice. You can’t buy Me into making Your choice. And by fuck You can’t Make Me do what You think or want Me to do.

Why?

Because My choice was taken from Me too early and it shaped who I am now. Surprisingly, I don’t care.

Now as simplistic as that sounds is besides the point. Yes it may sound childish … because it fucken is. But when you fuck with a child, ‘normally’, they will show you their stubbornness – their ‘will’ – they will exercise their ‘choices’ … and thats how they learn.

But when you silence them … suffocate and rape them … all that freedom to choose bullshit goes out the window. For That child, it becomes a matter of survival.

Fast forward forty years and someone is suggesting I should forgive and let it all go … You: as well meaning as you might think you are … are just hindering my process.

I don’t let go and I don’t give a fuck if it kills Me.

Do you know how many near death events I have faced?

Can you comprehend what it feels like to be crushed under the weight of a fully grown man whose trying to gets his rocks off, and You are 1/8th of said mans size?

No.

Can you comprehend gagging and choking at the end of a giant dick, wondering if you can breath through your ears?

No?

That my friends,  is survival.

And letting that go is not about forgiveness, thats about making others feel comfortable that I have made peace with the whole fucking thing and we can move on to talking about your new car, or the recipe you got off’ve an ‘amazeballs’ website …

NOT letting go, for Me, is not about forgiveness or unforgiveness …

Not letting go, is about remembering how fucking gangstah I am.

How fucking ‘amazeballs’ that little girl was to learn to breath through her fucking ears!

Not letting go … for how ever long that is … is My choice; My remembrance and my fucking celebration of the sacrifices that little girl made so I can have breathe today.

In her darkness, and in her fucking suffering, I have life.

Why the fuck would I let that Go.



kpm © : ig @kpm-artist


 

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