I’m Still In Love With You ~ Sean Paul, 2002
Me and the partner are like chalk and cheese … light and dark … sunshine and rain … black and white … up and down …
You get my drift ay.
And that’s not just in opinion or taste or dislikes or food … it’s in virtually everything. We have some common ground, but even there we tend to sit at completely different ends of that spectrum.
We’ve learnt a lot from each other as the years have transpired and tend to think of ourselves as a yin and yang rather than complete opposites. You can’t have a yin without a yang, if you get my meaning …
But sometimes … just sometimes …
I got rid of most of the time wasters and hanger-on-ers that milled around my existence, a very long time ago. When they do ring and want something my go-to is a big fat NO. My partner isn’t like that at all. I’ve learnt a bit of balance and perspective from him I guess, and won’t cut a niggah off as quick as I used too. However, I’m a perceptive wee thing and can usually tell when someone be yanking my chain. Thats a tool the partner doesn’t possess. Yet. He’s working on it, slowly … but pretty much, if someone asked for the shirt off’ve his back, he’d give it.
Now I don’t have a problem with that part of his character at all. It’s part of the reason I love him. But …
Yes there’s a But …
When said chain yanker already has a custom-made shirt from Italy on, and they’re asking for his because they left their other handmade shirt from France, at home, and they’re sweaty and uncomfortable … and my partners shirt looks more comfy …
Then I have a problem with him giving the shirt off his back and I also have a problem with the Italian / French shirt wearing douchebag.
But he is surrounded by them. Literally. Nearly every person he knows is to one degree or another, like this.
I know this because I’ve witnessed it, obviously … but even more annoying is this:
The partner has had a back injury for nearly 10 years. He injured it on the job and hasn’t worked full-time since then. Now this kills him. He’s a worker. He loves doing physical stuff and he’s damn good at it. So to lose the ability to do this has messed with him mentally and physically. Now he can’t sit without cringing in pain.
And then there’s the chain yanking tossers …
They’ll ring … ‘hey bro, can you give us a hand to build … construct … move … hey bro, can we borrow some money … hey bro can you look after our kids … hey bro … you’re not doing anything, can you pick us up … drop us off …’
On and on it goes. And they have no fucking shame either! They don’t think … Ahhh this man is injured, maybe we should ask someone else … Or, ahh this man is injured, how about We help him out!!
It pisses Me no end.
Theres no telling him though and the extent of my lectures now only involve a mild … ‘oh well …’, when he complains about his back hurting because he’s helped a ‘friend’ move house.
I also don’t concede anymore. Meaning, when I ask for a hand and he complains, I remind him that he can do way more for every other cunt so he can do it for the cunt that has put up with his bullshit for the last god knows how long.
He gets my point.
But sometimes, just sometimes …
I think there’s going to come a day when I make a little Facebook post, so they can all see it, and it’ll read a little something like this:
“Hey … all you fuckers that have bled [partner] dry … have rung in the middle of the night for a drunken pity party … have borrowed our last dollar … have promised to be here, but don’t ever come … have suggested [partner] needs to get over it and get a job … that we have it easy … that have asked for everything and given nothing … Yes, you lot … Don’t bother ringing here … I’ll hang up on your bludging assess … Don’t bother borrowing money … I will come and get it back, with fucking interest … In fact, fuck off completely.” Kindest fucking regards from the Missus!
When I’m at home by myself, I lock all the doors, sometimes the windows; depending on where I am in the house. When I go through a door, I close it behind Me; with the back and front doors, I lock them behind Me. When I’m not alone in the house, I pretty much do the same thing, once again, dependent on where I am in the house or outside. If I’m in the backyard, I lock all the front windows and the door.
Turns out this is a ‘pts(d) marker’ according to all those overpaid professionals. It’s one of the ‘quirks’ that led to the diagnosis.
However, in my mind, it’s a safety thing sure, but it’s a practical safety thing and something I think more peeps should be doing.
So, Me and the partner have had numerous ‘discussions’ on this. He thinks I’m paranoid and crazy, of course: on a good day, he just thinks it’s an annoying habit. I’ve told him my reasons for doing it, and they include the fact that a burglary that happens during the day (opportunist burglaries) is usually done whilst someone is at home and the burglar gains access through an unlocked front or back door. They usually take small valuable items and aren’t in the house for very long.
Slight digression: I had a ‘client’ once, who was this type of burglar. On one such occasion he escalated to rape because the valuable item in the front of the house included a laptop he couldn’t access so he decided to terrorise the occupant to get the password. The terror ended with rape. Not because he wanted too particularly, but because the opportunity arose and he decided to tap into the darkness that had been raging in him forever. This is how some rapists, sexual pervs start their journey: with burglary. But thats another post.
Back to jist:
So, the partner comes home from the shop the other day, going on about a friend of his, whose house had recently been burgled.
Turned out, I was right.
The burglar gained access through the front of the house (an open door), stole phones and money from the front bedroom, and left. They saw a person leaving but presumed in was a salesperson who they hadn’t heard knocking.
As the partner was flamboyantly describing the scenario, I butted in and said:
“See. Told You”.
And thats it. He looked pretty embarrassed and brushed it off slightly, but acknowledged, in the way men do when they don’t like to admit they had been judgemental shitbags previously; that I was indeed, Right.
I’ve been doing this quite a bit lately.
Pointing out when I’m right. Not because I want to rub it in, but because I am fucking sick of being blamed and shamed for a ‘pts(d) quirk’, that a. may well be, but has a fucking dam good reason behind it and b. I am well tired of having to explain my actions and c. I am WAY over explaining my thought patterns and fears (founded or unfounded) and reasonings …
You see, I’m discovering, I am pretty fucking capable, pts(d) or not. And some of my capabilities come from the fact that I have pts(d).
I’m a survivor, bitch.
#abstractart #abstract #art #acrylic #painting #stretched #canvas #dark #blacks #whites #yellow #exhibitionart #rarohenga #underworld #whare #spirits #dwell #cosmoslogy #maori #tangatawhenua #aotearoa #culture #resistance #selfdetermination #resolving #unfolding #responding #@kpmartistactivist
Can’t Help Falling In Love ~ UB40, 1993
+326. Yup. LOL
Photograph of 2 athletic looking persons (male and female), doing some kind of stretchy, balancing yoga type pose against a backdrop of a beautiful orangey purple sunset.
The captions reads: “This could be us, but we eat cake”.
i won’t explain my
a second LOL for the day!
Thanks for that ‘simple tips’.
I’ve got another tip for yah …
make sure your spamming an actual real life readable post
when referring to what i have to say
and what you have read.
Yes, thats right, this be a Song Post.
For listening too.
#abstractart #abstract #art #sculpture #mixedmedia #construction #industrial #memories #love #exhibitionart #mahara #consciousness #remember #cosmoslogy #maori #tangatawhenua #aotearoa #culture #resistance #selfdetermination #resolving #unfolding #responding #@kpmartistactivist
Tip Off Time ~ The High and Mighty, 1999