two wrongs ~ wyclef jean ft claudette ortiz

Two Wrongs ~ Wyclef Jean featuring Claudette Ortiz, 2002

done and done

I had my big ass assessment this morning … holy hell, what a mission. I was nervous … so nervous, my tummy has been in knots for days.

But now its over, thank fuck!

Aside from the obvious, which I survived to tell the tale, I gleaned a few tidbits I am ruminating on.

  1. Our health, particularly our mental health, system, is fucked. As per usual, my descriptions are ‘layman-womans’ terms. Now this news is nothing new; however today I got another awakening to just how stitched up everything is. After wading my nervous, semi sedated self through the myriad of questions relating to ‘permanent impairment’, I discovered that our health system rates permanent impairment in levels. Under 30% permanent impairment means – whilst you may not be able to hold down a job, or drive, or socialise, or talk on the phone, or be alone, or leave the house – if you are not in an institution and on medication, you are fine. Another words, 30% is the cap before they haul you off to the nut house and jab you with drool inducing meds. As this reality dawned on me during the assessment, 2 things happened.
  2. I became very aware that I didn’t want to rate over 30%.
  3. I became very aware that the likely-hood of receiving anymore than $35 a week for ‘permanent impairment’ was nil.
  4. Which brings me back to point 1.

I left that office slightly grateful that I hadn’t been institutionalised at any time. It would have killed me if I had. I shit you not. Me – Caged? Fuck No. It can’t happen.

But I was also very aware that my dance with ACC is grinding to a rather unproductive halt. It has been an exercise in asserting and flexing my rights, for sure. As far as having a productive outcome … well, apparently I am entitled to a life times worth of counselling slash psychologist intervention. Oh and mind bending medication if I so wish to be mind bent.

What struck me whilst answering all those rather intrusive questions, was that interacting with ‘the health system’ makes me feel more unhealthy. How is that possible? I’m unsure. Maybe because with every question about concentration or socialisation, I am trying to figure out what is deemed as normal. No I don’t interact with many people. But on a whole I don’t find people very interact-able. When I tried to explain this, I actually ended up sounding reasonably mad – even to myself lol.

You see (and I’ve talked about this before), when I go somewhere – meet people -just enter a place really – theres a shit tonne of things that happen. I was trying to relay this reality today.

When I arrived for my appointment, this is what I noted:

  • There are two large slow moving sliding glass doors to get into before you enter.
  • Not an easy exit.
  • 2 ladies sat at the front desk.
  • Mellow, low, horrid music in the background. It’s source was in the corner of the foyer.
  • 1st woman recked of cheap perfume.
  • 2nd was more interested in her lunch. It was 8.50am.
  • The lights were seedy. Lots of them. Meaning it was bright.
  • No open windows.
  • 1 door open, to files room, to the left of me.
  • Waiting room – large, hospital set up.
  • 2 large ugly pictures on far wall.
  • 2 framed ‘signs’. 1 about phones and photos.
  • 1 large ugly picture behind me.
  • toy box to the right in the corner.
  • water cooler far left.
  • it smelt dusty but cleaned.

And thats not the office. And this is me on an unobservant day.

So hows my concentration?

I don’t know how to answer that.

What I know is, it’s all fucking tiring.

Anyways … I am here … I survived. I still hate the system and I’m still unsocial lol.

On a lighter and nicer note: We are now waiting for the impending birth of moko #5 🙂

My partners daughter went into labour this morning and this is her first baby. If she’s anything like her mother, her labour and birth should be quite short. But bubbys have a way of doing what they please 🙂 It was moko #4s 3rd birthday yesterday, so we will end up with 2 birthdays close together which is kinda cool.

Right, I’m going to find some chocolate and make a cup of tea.

Peace Out 😉


photography ~ black & whites #60

black & whites #60

#black&whites #mybackyard #themoon #crescent #beach #beachlife #beauty #filtered #monochrome #photoblog #photograph #photography #kpm©



366 reasons to smile ~ +234.

+234. Mmmm Coffee 🙂



mauri of me #33 ~ simplicity

Seemed like a timely reminder of just how simply and beautifully … and accurately – children see things.

You know … hate is a learned thing.


photography ~ black & whites #59

black & whites #59

#black&whites #mybackyard #macrocarpa #wood #thecuts #thelengths #beauty #filtered #macro #monochrome #photoblog #photograph #photography #kpm©



366 reasons to smile ~ +233.

+233. Geez …. “No Pickles”!



blackberry molasses ~ mista

Blackberry Molasses ~ Mista, 1996


activism ~ “White Privileged: Shut Your Selectively-Pacifist, Pontificating Ass Up”

activism ~ speaking truth!

Another piece of brilliance from Johnny Silvercloud.

For more go visit


You Have a Problem with the Oppressed Standing Up to Oppressors?

I don’t even care to debate anymore.

There was a time when I cared deeply about debating with fools on the internet.  Roughly around 2006, I truly loved debating online.  These days, I don’t even care.  White people wanting — arrogantly demanding — infinite proof of racism when we face it every day?  I don’t care to waste my time.

Right now there’s a fierce debate going on in regards to fighting Nazis.  While I’ll most certainly make it known where I stand, I really don’t care to debate anyone on this.  What I do care about doing, however, is giving lessons. 

In the middle of August 2017 I was made aware that a fellow known to me, white cis-het male, was defending Nazis by way of obfuscating the concept of “freedom of speech”, which was something…

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he wasn’t man enough for me ~ toni braxton

He Wasn’t Man Enough For Me ~ Toni Braxton, 2000