awkward ass epiphany, per se.

& i aint quite got it yet …

but, as i was assembling my shit this morning (yes, as awkward as it sounds lol), i could hear little voices in my head. not the psycho-killer kind, but im sure they’re lingering lol … no, this was like an echo.

as i went to pick up the teacup (the one i posted a pic of recently), i could hear my head say: “dont break it”. it stopped me in my tracks & i felt my chest tighten.

i ended up having this longwinded fucking dissection – wait – dissection of thoughts go on for far to fucking long for my liking … with the upshot being, i drank out of that teacup, more out of defiance than anything else; whilst trying to tell myself that i was enjoying it because it was nans teacup & she’s dead now so this is like a cool little celebration of her …

ffs …

& there it was.

i had turned into some new age fucking guru wanna-be, who turned everything into a fucking teaching & learning moment.

what the fuck happened?

& another little echo in my head says: cos youre an idiot.

& that made me laugh.

it wasn’t a criticism to make one curl up in the corner & rock backwards & forwards: it was MY still inner voice, who i might add, is usually pretty on point, resilient & somewhat gangstah.

i get her.

& somehow or other i think i’ve stifled her. not just the long historical silencing *eyeball roll inserted*, but more recently, a sort of shushing, that i dont usually do.

so i picked up the teacup, a.gain, poured my tea into it & guess what?

the fucker broke.

thats right, the fragile fine china that nan had quietly collected for fucking years & i’d been to scared to drink out of, or even touch for that matter … it broke.

interesting turn of events:

i felt relieved.

cos even though it broke, the rest of the world didn’t break with it. & neither did i.

what nan couldn’t say when we were younger, was that she loved that china & she  didn’t want us to touch it, look at it, move anywhere near it lol, cos it was HERS & it was precious to her. instead, her only way of defending her turf was to say, ‘dont touch it, you’ll break it’, which is more a statement indicating that we were someway deficient. not just cos of this one incident, but because thats how our family related.

“dont do such in such … you’ll break it … you’ll end up dead … you’ll go to hell …”

feel me?

there’s no middle ground. theres no learning. theres no ownership. theres no responsibility.

theres no fucking care.

just defence.

& thats what i’ve internalised.

& now i know, i know better.

nan just wanted her own space. & so do i. i just want to do me, be me, without having to fucking apologise or justify it or reason it out or have some deep psychological reason for it.

i want to be able break a fucking cup, by accident or otherwise, & it be ok.

whew.


kpm ©


 

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sooooo, how’s the anxiety?

what anxiety? *eye ball roll insert*

i can see / feel theres something in the air.

i’m angry.

like, angry AF.

it feels like some of it is hormonal. which @ any other time would be a pain in the ass (literally), but i’m embracing it. i think its enhancing the feeling thats already there.

& we all know how devoid of fucking ‘named feelings’ i am *eye ball roll inserted, right … here!*

it got me wondering why on earth we are all so obsessed with naming shit. all the fucking time. its annoying … & this coming from the bitch that loves analysis *insert yet another fucking eye-ball roll*

so, what’s surfacing? what is so fucking important that its plaguing my existence from waking to sleep-time, & sleep-time even … how rude! i’ve ground my teeth so hard, i’ve broken my back tooth. oh joy!

& thats a sure indicator that theres something brewing … oh yeah, that & the daily flashbacks … *yep, thats right … insert yet another eye ball roll … i’ll end up rolling those bitches right out my head soon!*

so, theres an ‘impending doom’ feeling, that sure, feels like anxiety, but different. it feels familiar. almost homely. but also fucking sickening.

i was reminded in the midst of one of these gutt wrenching fuckery’s the other day, that my involuntary interaction with the pedo cunt stopped when my grandfather died.

somewhere along the line i had kinda forgotten that just cos i had confronted his filth & come out the closet about his true nature, like, years ago; i had still had to put up with his presence on various occasions.

namely, when i wanted to see my grandparents.

my relationship with them was sporadic because of that fuckwitt.

after my grandfather died, i didn’t have to see him anymore.

& i haven’t.

thats actually only been 11 years.

repeat … 11 years.

i am forty-fucking-seven years old.

as all that dawned on me like a … fuck, i dont know what … i got that feeling (the above one i’ve been trying to describe …) in the pitt of my guts again. it kinda floated around in the middle there & then kicked me in the balls.

‘right bitch? yah get it now?’

.

i do.

& i dont.

& it actually hurts far too much to think about.

but that hasn’t stopped it from screwing with me feng shui.

so, thats me right now.


kpm ©


 

yah know …

when a train of thought just keeps going ..

yeah well, thats what’s happening here!

.

after all the internal fuckerys, support group exits etc etc i happened upon a thought this morning …

about my father.

i haven’t heard from him. he hasn’t apologised. i haven’t reached out …

& as that thought was unfolding … it kinda struck me, that i felt this guilty kind of infection, somewhere deep in my gut … like i shoulda forgiven him & been ‘the bigger person’ & reached out to make some kind of amends in the whole situation …

& then it double struck me … that i didn’t cause the situation that led to me cutting that niggah off. & that i have waited more than patiently (like 30 years patiently) for way more time than he shoulda got, for some kind of relationship or connection & have even tried multiple times to build that connection / relationship. i have invested time, children, honesty, loyalty & quality into that motherfucker over my life time.

& again … i am not responsible for his thoughts, his patterns of behaviour or the outworking of it. it aint my job to correct him, educate him, inform him or gently help him out just a little … NO.

thats his job, his responsibility.

mine is to do me.

& i did. & i cut that bitch off.

so why the guilt???

its habit. its a motherfucking habit. its a societal habit. its a habit enforced on women & POC. its a cunt of a habit that is backed up by ‘the word of god’.

its a habit that keeps us grovelling in  the dirt, looking for penance, blessings, righteousness, when all we should be looking for is a new start.

in that whole train of thought about my father, i started moving it to other ‘people’, situations & areas of my life. where i’ve been waiting for some kind of reconnection or unattainable righteousness or forgiveness and reconciliation.

its fucking eye opening.

& guess what.

yah cant reconcile with something / someone that thinks they’re in control.

it dont work.


kpm ©


 

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sooooo, this happened.

sneakers make me happy.

i’m fickle like that ;)


kpm © : ig @kpm-artist


 

dodgy day.

yesterday was a little tense in my world. not a new thing i know but i had a little bit of light shed on my ‘sitch.

my mojo had her tonsils out. it made me nervous. not cos she cant handle it or that she didn’t need it … but because ‘others’ were ‘handling’ her & i dont trust them.

turns out, anything to do with the fams & doctors or schools or any one else that is in their lives that i dont know or trust … i dont like it … & it makes me nervous AF.

i did the deep breathing & distraction routine but ended up taking an anti anxiety med.

whatevs’.

i’ll be better prepped for the next time i encounter such a situation .. after all, theres like another 5 mokos!!


kpm ©


 

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hormone fuckery …

#mood

that’s it.


kpm ©


 

 

what i learnt from the white supremacist cunt.

not sure if i’ve ever talked about this bit or not: so buckle up & scroll on if need be. ps: thats my version of a trigger warning soz.

.

so the kiddie fucker that assaulted me as a child, was a self professed ‘white supremacist’. donning the skinhead label, he thought it was a good idea to have it inscribed in ink, on his mug. as idiotic as it sounds now, it also made for a scary as motherfucker to look at.

hindsight says: that was the point. a scared man trying to hide behind something he could relate to.

but it was his constant adolph hitler & nazi rants, that schooled my little self on what an actual racist cunt was. as my years have rolled by, i’ve heard the same rants come from some of the most unexpected places.

i learnt that the superiority of white skin and blue eyes was bred. that jews were filthy creatures that needed to be eradicated, like rats, from the earth. that hitler was the only person strong enough to have attempted and nearly achieved such a culling. i learnt that the jews that were left had infiltrated all sorts of important positions in government and were responsible for wars, killing, greed, banking fo-pars … i learnt that if hitler had achieved his goals then we would be living in a different world.

i learnt that the jews that were gassed by nazis were heard screaming and choking through the doors. that nazis laughed outside. i learnt that the clothes of those that were gassed, were infested with fleas therefore proving the filth of the jews.

i learnt that black skinned people were inferior & also needed eradication. that slavery was the beginning and should have been the ending, if hitler had been in charge. i learnt that all dark skinned people were unintelligent & a by product of some great sin committed on the earth. i learnt that my own skin was in this category & was not good for anything other than fucking and killing.

i learnt that an inverted pentagram was evil as was a goats head. that both of these could call demons who would come and tear my throat open if i was lucky, or stay around and torment the living shit out of me if i was unlucky. i learnt that anger was a tool. that violence was a pretty word for suffering.

i learnt that children were idiots. they were toys to be tortured. that small was unfortunate just because it was small. i learnt that if someone yelled loud enough then a child would cry and a bigger person felt important.

.

& then, i learnt that i was a jew.

& i learnt that i was a dark skinned person. a maori.

i learnt that i was a child. small. & that everyone around me was afraid of the cunt that was my uncle. so afraid were they, that they were ‘unable’ to confront him about anything. including his racist rants. his actions. his hatred.

instead it was appeased, fed & consoled.

you may have wondered why i go on about intersectionality & racism.

& this is why.

its pretty fucking hard to watch a world unfolding before me, at the moment, where all the things i was told as a child, are ideologies that are being celebrated.

xenophobia, racism, homophobia, misogyny – are not new things. but they are putrid & have no place in any society.

i learnt this shit more than 40 years ago. i had an up front, cold, cruel experience with one deranged self confessed white supremacist.

from that experience i also learnt however, that what i was told was utter bullshit. that any type of superiority is not worth the latrine its shat into. & more importantly i’ve learnt that ‘they’ are far too fucking tolerant of bigotry & way to quick to turn the other way cos it makes them feel uncomfortable.

wake the fuck up world, before history repeats itself. again.

fin.


kpm ©


 

pity party .. y’all invited

think its a pity party, but really, more bordering on a big motherfucking reality check.

& please note, this is a bit of a run on from the previous post … it added to my present fuckery.

.

so, i’m completely down with the ‘upholding the brothers’ & strengthening their resolve to support mental health, awareness, education etc etc. yes, its about time you fuckers cried & let that shit out.

biological women & WOC, all over the world are way over waiting for yous to drop the facade & be real.

with that said, are yous expecting us to teach yous how to do that?

.

& now on the personal note:

cos y’all didn’t want to support me. in fact you made it 100% more difficult to remain alive, well, living, surviving, thriving.

& yet, here i am.

still ‘unwell’, but surviving, bordering on, thriving.

& now yah want support. & now you want sympathy. & now you want help.

but not the kind that you struggle for, fight for, hunt for … but the kind yah mama didn’t give you.

the kind our mamas didn’t give us.

& yet, here i am.

& yes, this is a tale of my journey. but its a tale of so many fucking biological women & WOC it’d take all day to regale them all.

dont get me wrong. i won’t hold up your process or demean your process or put blocks in front of your process. … like you did to me … but i aint actively letting you suck the life outta me so you can stand on your own 2 feet & tell everyone ‘I did it by myself & my way’. cos yah didn’t.

you were a cunt. an absolute cunt who who refused to deal with thine own fucking shit. who refused to own & change it.

& now your old & twisted.

& fucked.

& expect others to do for you what you were unwilling to do for them.

i’ll leave it there.


kpm ©


 

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& it was …

hard. but good. it was long. tiring. awesome. overwhelming.

& i felt everything.

& thats possibly why i’m now sick & still recovering lol.

from what? last weekend away & staring down the barrel of part of my slightly shitty past.

i was a super proud mama of what my girl had achieved. but i’ve never Not been proud of her.

i love that shes gained confidence & is sure of what’s shes doing. yet shes still herself.

i love her for that.

the weekend itself was meticulously planned out, by none other than miss anal fucker herself ;) & i’m glad i did. @ least i’ve learnt this much about myself.

i needed every little break. i needed the ear plugs. i needed to disconnect. i needed to do what i needed to do to be alright.

by in large, it all worked.

as i’m tending to find though, it really does take a toll on my feng shui: that whole ‘feeling’ & being present stuff.

i enjoyed what i enjoyed but was very aware that i had to slow way the fuck down to stay ‘being alright’.

the only time i really lost it was the morning of my girls actual march out. the previous few days were catching up & i had prepared as much as i could, but when we got to the parade grounds, all the seats were grandstands.

i dont do grandstands.

i barely do crowds.

& this was one hell of a crowd. but grandstand seating … nope. no fucking way.

& i could feel my chest tightening & that wave of panic starting to take me over. i ended up removing myself from the fams & the crowd & found a seat right at the back away from everything & everyone. i breathed long and hard, put my ear plugs in and my ear phones on. i think i musta done about half an hour of music before i realised i was calmer and could reconnect with the world around me. just in time too, cos the parade was starting.

i found myself a position, out of the way, where i could take photos. & this all worked for me. effectively, it took me out of the main crowd, to the fringes, (where i am way more comfortable ;) ) where i was able to manage me.

pretty typical really & definitely something i’ll do more of: think that’s part of creating ones own lane ;)

i was so proud of my girl though. her marching was amazing and you could see all the hard work she had put in. & yes, there was tears lol. good old mama tears.

afterwards we got to spend a bit of time with her before she had to go back to barracks. & by this time, i was personally, well and truly fucked. we pretty much packed up and headed off after that.

i’d made sure i’d got somewhere to stay for the night so we didn’t have to travel back straight away. & fuck i was pleased i had. think its the earliest i’ve ever been to sleep lol.

the following day we made a slow trip home & i pretty much collapsed in a heap & ive been here ever since lol. the flu set in a couple days later & now i’m nursing mild tonsillitis & earache.

in the large scheme of things, all this isn’t a too bad reaction to something that i was completely dreading.

i’m proud of me.

i’m proud i went. i faced my demons & figured out they’re not so scary anymore. i even found some beauty in the whole fucked up mess ;)

anyway, i’m grateful.  grateful i took each step slowly & i remembered to stay in the moment & appreciate it for what it was. that made me appreciate what it had been. what i had been. what i lived through. what i did to get through.

& more importantly, who i am now.

think it’ll be a couple more days before i’m fully re-couped, but thats aight ;)


kpm ©


 

another countdown …

seems to be the story of my year so far.

waiting. waiting for the next thing. bracing myself for the next thing.

so in less than a week i will be back in the town where i lived after i got married. i had just turned 19 when i made this decision & it shaped a lot of the things that happened thereafter.

as marriage does … geez.

i haven’t tried to step all this out in a post yet, even though i’ve been brewing on it since february; because … well because … it makes me fucking nervous. like, fucking nervous. like ‘i feel like vomiting but it won’t come up’ kinda nervous lol.

i haven’t tried to over analyse the whole thing too much, or dwell on it, or unpack it, or ditch it. just been letting it unfold.

cos i gotta go there. not cos i ‘got too’ got too, but cos ‘i am going too’ got too. ffs, awkward fucker lol.

anyway …

my youngest daughter has joined the army & she completes her basic training next weekend. so, i’m attending her graduation parade.

if you understand anything about pts(d), then you’ll get that part of my nervous-ness: change of routine, scenery, travel, strangers, interactions, the potential for way more surprises than my everyday existence holds, blah-de-fucking-blah.

surprisingly, that part of it, i know how to handle now. & as sick as fuck as it makes me feel, i know i can do it, how to bail if i need too, how to ask for help & how to maintain my shizz. i’ve taken out 2 days either side of this event for recoup & put aside enough money to make sure i can do something  nice (probably coffee!! lol) for myself.

the deeper sickening feeling is the re-visiting of the old.

i was married for nearly 4 years & it was a mental fuckhole. i’ve mulled over its events long enough throughout my life & won’t bore you with the details of the tragedy here lol; suffice to say, it didn’t work out & i left.

as i exited, the next lot of fuckery began, & i guess, revisiting the site of said fuckery, is what’s messing with me. i’m trying hard to hold on to the good shit: like, the weekend we go back here, is the same time, 26 years prior, that i was due to give birth to my daughter. it snowed hard core & i was hoping she wouldn’t make an appearance until the snow had stopped & the roads cleared. thinking about that, made me smile.

she was the highlight of that marriage. the best part to come from it.

when i left, both my children were used, again, as leverage & control over me.

its not the first time that had happened in my short life. but it is the one soft spot, that got used multiple times, for years to come.

& its that anger & possibly a bit of bitterness, that is creating some god-awful bile build up in my pie hole.

then there’s another part of me, that i haven’t really seen before, not up close anyway … thats viewing all that bullshit tragedy as something quite different. i think cos i’m viewing it from a 47 year old womans perspective, of a fresh outta hell going into another frying pan, 19 year old womans perspective … who loves her babies & has no idea how to ‘do’ life as she wants too.

i have to salute her for her bravery. for her audacity to fuck shit up. for her cheek to want more & different. for her ability to disagree with every fucking thing LOL.

its that. that thing. that thing that annoys the living fuck outta everyone around me, that kept me surviving & trying. again & again.

i have a new respect for her, & even if i fuck it all up this weekend, i’ll still have respect for her for even going there.

i still feel sick lol. but i’m as ready as i’ll ever be for this next part of my unfolding.

love & light to me.


kpm©


 

happy motherfucking mothers day:

ok, small(ish) rant before i move on with the day:

in my motherfucking opinion, mamas (not gender specific) have been wiping tears, noses, asses & trying to ‘make it all alright’, alone, for far too fucking long. i cannot count the amount of mamas i have known that have turned themselves inside out, for hours, days, years … to make life ok, better, bearable for their kids. & all the while they shoulder the ‘i hate yous’, ‘youre a horrible mother’ & ‘you don’t understand me’s’, & watch / listen as the sperm donor gets a free fucking pass.

if your purpose in life was to replicate, & you’ve done that, then move the fuck on.
hanging around taking up space, leeching breathe & dropping false hope, is not the tahi.

you think your penis entitles you to discounts, subsides, and a side order of understanding with immeasurable forgiveness?

i dont fucking think so. that shit is way old & way done.


kpm©


 

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the end of birthday month.

the beautiful thing about birthday month, is its final day, is moko #3’s birthday.

she turned 10 today.

& she reminds me of everything the is good in the world.

everything that is right. just. perfect. bold. strong.

“happy birthday beautiful xx”


for me, this month has been full of learning curves. some were pretty sharp. some a little more subtle.

its quite something to be in control, & i mean real control, of yourself.

for some peeps, that’d be a given.

for someone like me: who has spent her life running from being controlled, its a very new thing, to be in control of myself.

i’ve spent years being numb. disassociated ‘they’ call it. & i haven’t disliked it @ at. in fact, it was my saving grace.

the head fuck came when i tried to return to the land of the ‘feels’.

& let me just say here: if you know someone who spends a tonne of time being disassociated – or You are that way … leave it be! there’s a fucking good reason your body & mind has tapped out. but believe me … You are still there … you’re just resting.

& thats a huge thing to realise, embrace, & then let go of.

being in control of Me: my body, my mind … my soul … is quite fucking liberating. full of head fucks left right & centre … but liberating none-the-less.

so, this is what birthday month has been a trial run of.

& i’ll be repeating it next year, fo’sure!!

but i’ve decided to blend some of what i gained … the confidence … the breath … the doing exactly what i want … into the rest of my year: the rest of my life.

i don’t know if i’ve explained it adequately but oh well. i’m kinda winging it.

so, Cheers … & see you on the flip side ;)


kpm © : ig @kpm-artist


 

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today was cake day …

not cos it was actuals cake day, or my actual birth date …

but yeah, let me break it down:

as i’ve said, i’m doing birthday month, a new tradition for me.

& i can feel shit changing … not sure how to explain it entirely, so i’m not even going to try really … suffice to say … its good … its awkward … but its good.

so this weekend, i had 4 things left on my list of birthday shizz, that i wanted to do.

one was toasting marshmallows … i know, what a geek … but holy fuck i had fun! i was spose to them outside but it rained. & as much as i love the rain, do you know how hard it is to keep a fire going in the rain lol. so inside it was.

the trifecta!

& that was done whilst doing number two on my list:

Avengers: The End Game.

yes, i am a marvels geek & i embrace it whole heartedly!!! & what an ending … ps: i had tears lol!

moving on to saturday, the plan was to be in public, in the daytime, to get number 3 done … i had burgers to get.

i wrote a wingey little tale a week or so ago about not being able to go & get these burgers & how fucked up it is having pts(d); especially on days when yah really want to do something, but your body has other plans!

anyway, my burger cart returned to a semi-close vicinity so i took it as a sign from the goddesses, sucked my shit up, & decided to go. my end goal was 1 burger … anything after that was a bonus.

i did dark glasses & ear plugs & descended on the hood …

& guess what … i fucken did it!!!

dare i say, the worlds best burgers!

& every little bite felt like a fucking victory!!!

oh, & then i got coffee ;) not the worlds best-best coffee, but i wasn’t getting cocky … fuck i managed to order it & wait for it!

its was aight ;)

i did a couple low key shops after that & then started to feel jaded. overall though, i was pretty proud of me :)

sundays mish was the final thing on my list … & that was to make myself a banana birthday cake! i love banana cake <3 the thing with cakes & gifts & expectational shit, is sometimes it turns out to be a big fat disappointment. so birthday month was completely about doing, being & getting exactly what i liked & wanted.

so i made my own cake … & it was fucking gangstah!!!!

#boom! those are marshmallows with hot butter & brown sugar drizzled over top, with a topping of walnuts :)

my final surprise, which i think was amazing timing, was the arrival of a special gift from a special part of ‘my new tribe’. an amazing artist … a caring soul … & a beautiful friend xx this completely topped my day off!!

thankyou @gardengoddess , i love it <3

thankyou my friend … i love my scarf <3

so thats my weekend. i’m completely shattered but in a satisfied kinda way! couple more days till the end of the month & i am happy with all that i’ve ‘achieved’ & enjoyed.

i’ll explain in a couple days, a bit more about the significance for me, for all of this. until then .. i need to sleep.

love & loads of light to everyone x


kpm © : ig @kpm-artist


 

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the backlog …

must say .. keeping up with the steez of birthday month has been challenging lol.

the struggle is real ;)

there was lunch & coffee with my beautiful mama xx

the food life ;)

seafood chowder … IKR!

there was prezzies … from me, myself & i lol & other pretty cool peeps x

my new blue jumpsuit x it looks better on lol

wooden bowl & coffee cups … oh yeah x

yes it is a cigar :)

& the pièce de résistance for moi:

i was given an entire range of ‘sensitive friendly’ facial / body products! holy fuck! i haven’t used a product that agrees with me in like, fucking years!!! & now i’ve found my match x

these are ab-solutely di-vine to use x

yeah, so thats the backlog.

kinda cool that i haven’t had time to post these, cos it means birthday month is turning out to be waaaayyyy more epic than i had anticipated & i’ll be definitely keeping this new tra-dish!

xx


kpm © : ig @kpm-artist


 

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my stars & moon & a realisation.

i’ve been trying to do my first official ‘birthday month’ this month.

it’s something a person i know has done forever & i liked the sound of it, so wanted to give it a go.

tell yah what, it took a whole heap of stress off doing ‘birthday’ ‘day’. not that it was ever really overly stressful … but this year i felt more in control of it.

i’ll post more on the whole thing when this month is done … for now though …

part of my ‘doing what i want’ routine, included spending an evening with my eldest daughter: that in itself is hard for her, in different ways than me. they have 4 of my beautiful mokos & life is busy AF for her! taking 10 minutes to have a shit in peace is no easy thing, let alone spending an evening out of the house, with yah mama lol.

so i appreciated everything she did to make herself available. in my mind, that was her gift to me & i was extremely grateful.

but her & the fams gave me cupcakes too … bonus!!!

they’re those chocolate ones, that have gooey chocolate in the centre … OMG … they were divine!

as part of our evening out, i wanted to go & listen to this dude talk about astronomy & our cosmology surrounding the lunar calendar. now i knew it was a big thing, as in, it was going to be a crowded AF space … like 350+ people in a lecture theatre. but i booked tickets anyway & have worked on getting my shit together to get there.

“the usual routine.”

we had also decided to get this pizza @ a local restaurant & a large dose of coffee from another.

sooooooooo …. it didn’t quite work out as i’d planned … as either of us had planned actually.

both ‘sitters’ were late, which made us late for the astronomy thing.

positive note: i was calm. so was my daughter.

we got there 40 minutes late & when we got to the door we were greeted by 3 beautiful ladies who took us into the auditorium thing.

how-ever: once the door opened & i felt the heat, saw the crowd, smelt the smells & saw that the only seats available were way @ the back, or should i say right @ the top of a mountain of chairs … i knew i couldn’t do it. i backed out & told the last i had an anxiety disorder (short explanation) & that this wasn’t going to work for me.

sooooooo … they looked for an alternative.

now can i just say: that in all the years i’ve been battling & juggling pts(d) & its associated fuckery, i have never had a reception like this. not only were they polite, and curtious … they were caring!

one lady tried to find a back door to the auditorium & seating close to the door. bless her beautiful heart! she waited while i tried to manoeuvre the stairwell to the back door (& waited for over 15 minutes @ least) & finally i realised i wasn’t going to manage that either … well not without falling over anyways. i stood on the second set of steps (steep AF i might add) & had a quick discussion with my girl. i did my apologies & she could see i was struggling … & i decided that if i had a smidge of a chance to enjoy the rest of the evening, then this whole scenario was a no go.

so, again, i backed down the steps, very slowly, & those beautiful ladies got me a seat so i could sit down & get my breath. & then they just carried on as normal.

now, again: something else i’ve noticed throughout my pts(d)-ness, is peeps tend to do all sorts of awkward fuckery when confronted with someone who is clearly struggling. it is super super rare AF, to find someone, let alone 4 someones (1 being my beautiful daughter), who just caringly carried on, whilst making themselves ‘available’ to assist as i needed.

we sat there for about another 10 minutes. in that time, one lady came & sat next to me & says, ‘i get anxiety too, so i get it’; & she smiled. i nearly cried. but in the moment, it did something to my feng shui. something good.

i felt ‘normal’. empowered & normal & fully in control of my situation.

yah know how fucking rare that is too lol!!

my head cleared … & i stopped sweating like a rapist lol … & was able to make some clear decisions.

no, the auditorium wasn’t going to happen tonight. but we learned that this whole astronomy / star roadshow learning thing, would be done again. maybe next year. so we could try again then.

my ‘end goal’ of that part of the evening, was to buy the book this dude had written, & a cup lol. so i asked if i could do that, & they obliged & sold me both items earlier than they usually do. *goal achieved* ;)

i know, i know .. what a groupie lol

then i decided we’d leave. i thanked those those beautiful ladies for being so caring. i dont know that they really realised who much they had done for me.

yah know, a little kindness & not acting like a cunt, goes a very long way!!!

so me & my girl decided to go pizza-ing earlier. we’d chosen this particular place because my girl reckoned it wasn’t usually crowded.

well guess what. it was packed AF!!

by this stage we were both nervous but laughing cos this was just fucking typical really.

but we went in anyway. i did the earplug thang ;)

i managed to start ordering but cos it was so loud & so smelly (loads of people, smelly), i knew, again, sitting & waiting & then eating, was going to be hugely uncomfortable.

me & my girl had a little talk & decided to take away. so we ordered then left for half an hour.

& went to get the coffee we wanted! Yah!

all the while we’re walking & talking & its in the middle of town @ night, & i’m thinking … this is cool!!! this is way fucking better than sitting down in a crowded room & listening to someone talk for 2 hours … & way better than having to yell over everyone else to have a conversation … & as we strolled along … with a fresh coffee … heading back to get our pizza … i realised, that this … right here & now, was what my new lane looked like. & in a similar vein, my darling girl figured the same thing out for herself too.

we got back to the pizza place & i was actually able to sit & wait for another 10 minutes, for our order. no panic fucks to report here, but a few terrible selfies were attempted lol.

once we’d got our pizza, we sat in the park across the road .. which in hindsight, isn’t possibly the safest place for 2 women to be in the middle of the night .. & parked up on a bench seat like 2 lost souls, spread out our pizza, & ate like there was no tomorrow lol.

from left to right … ‘the godfather’ , ‘italian lover’ & the house special ‘dessert’ pizza!

the ‘park’ @ night x

it was an awesome night! 3 hours me & my girl sat there in the dark, watching the stars & the ‘night life’ & talking & laughing & yes, there were a few tears too lol.

my fuck, we needed that! i didn’t realise how much she needed it & this was exactly what i had been craving.

‘my normal’.

i’m actually grateful i couldn’t go into the auditorium & that i missed the stars lecture. i’m grateful the restaurant was packed.

i found something of me in all those ‘fuck-ups’ that i wouldn’t have found otherwise.

& it was a mixture of my old version of beautiful & my new version of ‘mindfulness’.

my beautiful x


kpm © : ig @kpm-artist


 

Image

today was anzac.

i’m not feeling it. as pathetic as that sounds … i’m just not.

after the recent shooting that saw 50 peoples lives, end … that we, as a country, have been blatantly quick to forget …

i just aint feeling it.

dont get me wrong, i always remember what my grandfather did for this shitass country & i am eternally grateful for his sacrifice & the toll that it took on him & his family in the following years …

but he’s not walking this earth anymore.

nor are his compadres.

i remember him every day, not just on this day.

what they did won’t ever be forgotten by those that loved them.

not their country.

their country forgets way too quickly.

so,

today i decided to start my own ‘remembrance’. being a pts(d) retard & all, crowded spaces are one of my achilles heels. i’ve guilted myself for the past few years, trying to bust my ass getting to a dawn service.

today, i kissed that scenario goodbye.

instead, i did this:

i did nans version of ‘gunfire’ or a ‘hot toddy’ – hot coffee & rum. then i took it & my funky ass down to the beach & found 2 flowers, the same colour, but different; & did a bouquet that nan would be embarrassed of lol (she was a beautifully talented florist), said my ‘prayers of remembrance’ & set my bouquet afloat.

i love my nan & grandad like no other humans that have been in my life.

today i remembered both of their sacrifices, for a war that wasn’t theirs: for a war that still needlessly rages.


kpm © : ig @kpm-artist


 

there’s some shit …

some deep old shit .. happening in my vicinity atm.

& from what i’ve gathered from my peeps, this is a thang that came with the dawning of 2019. not like they didn’t have shit to deal with beforehand …

but this be some new level deep shit.

now, i used to embrace the shit & dive right in head first. the underlining reason though (as i have funkily discovered over the last few ‘moments’) is to get that shit over & done with.

i’m a fucking minimalist aight. so if i can gather, deconstruct & reconstruct, like, in 10 minutes flat … then that be my goal!

but this shit …

this be a little deeper & i be a bit older & tireder.

i guess new facets of shit aint bad per se. but sometimes it just feels i’m walking (with a motherfucking walking stick) into a storm that i am no way prepared for.

thats scary as fuck for me.

any … way …

so, here i am,

 

.

& as i watch what’s unfolding i’m trying real hard not to grip the bannister to hard so i leave fingernail marks. i’m trying fucking hard to roll with it.

but it hurts like fuck.

& i’m trying to be all mindful & shit & ‘roll with it’ again.

but its scary as shit.

.

& thats all alright … right?

right.

apparently thats what ‘making a new lane’ is all about.


kpm ©


 

Image

still a bit broken today … but

boom : i made 47 orbits bitches !


kpm © : ig @kpm-artist


 

some-day fuckery.

yah know, there are just ‘those days’, when as much & as hard as yah try, you just cant help seeing all that is wrong with something, instead of seeing both sides of the coin.

today be one of those bitch ass days.

as much as i tried to ‘go-with-the-flow’, it just wasn’t flowing how i wanted it too.

so i’m here.

typing out my grievances.

again.


kpm ©


 

thought about my nan today,

actually i think about her most days, but today was a little different.

i had always wondered why she never left my grandfather when she appeared to be mostly (except for a few interim moments) pretty miserable.

they fought like cats & dogs & never really had anything nice to say to one another. they co-existed, or so it seemed.

they slept in different rooms & never really attended ‘functions’ together, like i saw other couples do.

there was always an air of animosity & tension.

poor old nan got the blame for most of that.

don’t get me wrong, i love both of my grandparents way beyond i love most things. but there things that my eyes & heart didn’t really understand.

as i become more ‘vocal’ & more of a feminist i suppose, my misplaced disdain for nan being in a situation she really didn’t like, made me question what she was up too.

why didn’t she just move on? start a new life? like my mama had when my father turned out to be a dick.

well, today i caught a glimpse of nans plight. i understood in a new way, why she didn’t or rather, couldn’t, ‘change’ her situation. it was something that i did know really, but not really really. lol. yah know when you really get the gist of something.

nan was a woman. a woman of the pre & post WW2 era. while she was fiercely independent & an entrepreneur & trailblazer of her era; she was limited.

because she was a woman.

where does a woman with no steady income – no ‘credentials’ – no ability to drive let alone purchase a vehicle – no ‘tribe’ that was accepting of her & her life choices (she married a man-of-colour, my grandfather, & was ostracised for it) – no alternatives – with declining mental health issues & daily challenges of small town living & generalised ‘woman misunderstanding’ – with a mouth that challenged the patriarchy @ every turn & was demonised for it.

where does that woman go when there is no where to go?

i guess i hadn’t really understood that sometimes, there is literally No Place To Go.

when that happens, you make a choice – a limited choice, but a choice none-the-less.

you remain in the situation that you know & that you can manoeuvre some type of freedom out of. as limited as that may be, it is better than the weighed up alternative – homelessness. aloneness.

today i understood her.

i understood her choices.

i admire her more than i think i have ever admired her before.


kpm ©