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366 reasons to smile ~ +229.

+229. I like to believe that it is!

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you’re making me high ~ toni braxton

You’re Making me High ~ Toni Braxton, 1996

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366 reasons to smile ~ +228.

+228. The latter is my daughters generation … but she gets some good shots lol.

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artivism ~ for her, and me, and them

All my life, well 41 years of it anyway, I’ve had to defend myself. Unfortunately, the form of defense that I have employed has usually, also been to my detriment. In that, I have hidden, run, anesthetized, gone silent…held my breath…to maintain my survival.

And this is the aftermath and ongoing cruelty of infant or child sexual assault, for its victim. It’s no longer some pervert cunt whose trying to get into your tiny panties…its the continuous hiding from the possibility of impending assault. It’s Us; still trying to defend ourselves from those prying fingers.

But those fingers don’t exist in the here and now anymore. Just in the senses…in the dreams…in the reminders…in the head…in the heart…and they are more than enough to terrify an avid horror film buff.

And as I wake this morning, to the realization that I have been my own worst number 2 enemy…as number 1 is lost somewhere in the open world…I wonder; am I going to defend myself differently? What does that differently look like?

I think it would look like what I do for; have done for my kids. It would look scary and fierce. It would be quiet, but firm…unyielding. It would defend and die for the life of…the growth of…the success of. It wouldn’t take any shit and wouldn’t take No for an excuse or an answer.

So if that is my new truth…that I; the person who hid, survived but died inside every day…if I; am truly worth fighting for…then today must be the day that happens.

I have listened and remained silent to the uneducated and unlearned and uncompassionate taunts of “get over it all ready … stop using it as an excuse … that was years ago … you’re so unaffectionate … you’re not better, your worse … you need to forgive … you need to move on”. And my defense, or best defense, has been an argument. Has been a plea, really.

To listen, to understand…let me educate you so that you will understand. Let me beg, plead and cry so that you will understand. Let me share my horrors with you so that you will understand.

Not realizing, they don’t want to understand…they just want me to be different. Not such an unwelcome truth.

So, for her, and me…I’ll keep talking the unwelcome truth…the mundane horrors…not just to educate; but to defend my position; my truth; my battle; my scars; my reality; my healing; my moving on and growing up.

I’ll also speak for all of those that didn’t make it out of that little dark room with prying fingers and filthy deeds. ALL those little people who never got the chance to get out, grow up, get a job and a family. For all those little people, just like me…who grew into big people, and have rocked in the corner, for far to fucking long.

First Published on: Mar 2, 2016 @ 07:04 ❤

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ruminating on the demise of the pedo cunt

this has been swirling around the grey matter for a few days. since the conversation with my girl.

i haven’t let it effect me too much. so thats either progress, or dissociation or both lol.

i found out the pedo cunt has yet another victim. not surprising really.

there is a strange thing that happens though, in the psyche of the victim(s) of pedo cunts generally. we tend to believe, or come to believe, that we are the only ones. i think this is in part due to the disbelief that their sickness is indeed a sickness … like a disease, it spreads. we tend to believe that (maybe thats for preservation of our own sanity, I’m unsure) their deeds must have been a one off; that they couldn’t have possibly gone around fiddling with everything in sight and no-one notice it.

through my studies though, i gleaned that the average offender will have racked up a cool 20+ victims in the course of an average lifetime. these are minimal stats. the true representation is far higher, given that the average offender may have started in their teens and die in their 60s. most of these are unreported.

but these stats alone are revolting.

so back to the pedo cunt at hand.

turns out a neighbours son had quite a bit to do with him. enough time spent for the pedo cunt to introduce this child (7 at the time) to sadistic pornography. if anything else was done to the child, this has yet to be disclosed.

if anything was done to his siblings; this is also unknowen.

the likelihood of the pedo cunt having only picked 1 of the siblings for his loathsome pleasures is unlikely.

this leaves me wondering – how the fuck does the universe let this revolting human live on? why?

on a more realistic note however; it makes the idea of outing him completely and utterly, a likely scenario, to commence very soon.

i won’t dwell on it to much here. at the moment.

i can’t.

i just needed to get it out of my head.

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symphony 2000 ~ epmd

Symphony 2000 (Clean) ~ EPMD Featuring Redman, Method Man & Lady Luck, 1999

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366 reasons to smile ~ +227.

+227. Nope it isn’t 🙂

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mauri of me #32 ~ he kākano āhau

He Kākano Āhau (Born Of Greatness) ~ Hohepa Tamehana, 2001

 

Lyrics

He kākano āhau

I ruia mai i Rangiātea

And I can never be lost

I am a seed, born of greatness

Descended from a line of chiefs,

He kākano āhau

Ki hea rā āu e hītekiteki ana

Ka mau tonu i āhau ōku tikanga

Tōku reo, tōku oho-oho,

Tōku reo, tōku māpihi maurea

Tōku whakakai marihi

My language is my strength,

An ornament of grace.

Ka tū ana āhau,

Ka ūhia au e ōku tipuna

My pride I will show

That you may know who I am

I am a warrior, a survivor

He mōrehu āhau.

Ki hea rā āu e hītekiteki ana

Ka mau tonu i āhau ōku tikanga

Tōku reo, tōku oho-oho,

Tōku reo, tōku māpihi maurea

Tōku whakakai marihi

My language is my strength,

An ornament of grace.

 

Translation

I am a seed

Scattered from Rangiatea

And I can never be lost

I am a seed, born of greatness

Descended from a line of chiefs,

I am a seed.

Wherever I may roam

I will hold fast to my traditions.

My language is my cherished possession

My language is the object of my affection

My precious adornment

My language is my strength,

An ornament of grace.

Whenever I stand,

I am clothed by my ancestors

My pride I will show

That you may know who I am

I am a warrior, a survivor

I am a remnant

Wherever I may roam

I will hild fast to my traditions.

My language is my cherished possession

My language is the object of my affection

My precious adornment

My language is my strength,

An ornament of grace.

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366 reasons to smile ~ +226.

+226. 😉

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these eyes

these eyes have seen

been

there and here.

crimson fog

orange hue.

glazed, yet glassy. moving

through the halls

down the stairs.

noting the darkness surrounds

everything.

the smoke in the air

the spoons on the stove

the oil dripping

from the caps.

no food in the darkness,

but bottles and bottles.

of tears

of piss

of losses

of pills

the haze it follows

her. me.

through the dark.

fuck 1

fuck 2

fuck 3

it makes no difference.

a woman once was.

her womb a sacred store house.

now.

slaughtered and wretched.

and she passes dem pipes

passed.

watching them inhale

exhale.

their lives.

but no high

no low.

just sweet balance.

tranquil balance.

tomorrow, she will shit not.

too constipated to care.

to heavy.

eventually wiping her ass

hole on yesterdays news.

and no food.

just drink.

no touch

just invasion.

but

sweet balance.

have these eyes

seen to many.

sorrows.

to readjust

in the light.

to remember.

is to smell.

to feel.

to weep.

memories

are held in

these eyes

.

***

First Published on: Jun 20, 2016 @ 00:07 ❤