stanley pedigree ~ groove merchants 2019
move ya body ~ nina sky, 2004
fuse ~ damien escobar, 2017
forget i was a g ~ whitehead bros, 1994
yep that’s what i feel like.
most of the time i thoughtfully & purposefully take the time to re-write that script in my head, so i can come up with some clever fucking way of not feeling ‘out of the ordinary’, or disabled.
but there are a lot of fucking times when its virtually impossible to suck it up & change the narrative.
cos it is what it fucking is & its fucking annoying.
no i’m not in a fucking wheel chair & yes i should count my blessings, apparently. & no, being in a wheel chair doesn’t mean its the end of the fucking world either.
but i’m feeling for the peeps, like myself, today … who can’t do ‘mainstream living’ even if they wanted too.
why the sad sack tantrum?
today i wanted a burger.
not a job. not a car. not a house. not a sense of purpose. not racial equality.
no. just a simple fucking burger.
& the food truck with the burgers i like, is in our little town today. yippie.
its surrounded by literally hundreds of ‘fun run’ fuckers who aren’t interested in the fatty contents of said burgers, but whose ‘fun-running’ takes precedence in this fucking world. the cunts.
as much as i have progressed (well i fucking try anyways), & i can mingle a little; & i know how to take my panic fuck down from an 8 to a 3 with not as much effort as previously was needed … i am nowhere near ‘able-bodied’ enough to manoeuvre hundreds of hypo fitness fucks, in the daylight, by myself, to get a fucking burger.
no can do.
& instead of finding the positive in all of that clusterfuck, i’m fucked off, & thats it.
imagine if it was an easy thing – to feel so sure of oneself & the inclusivity that this world is afforded them, that Moi & peeps like Moi, were able to think … oh, i have *pts(d)* (insert whatever ‘disabled’ label thus likes here), but i know this ‘*function / event / restaurant / school / road / walkway ….*’ will cater to my needs somewhere in there, because thats the kinda cunts we are in this country … we’re inclusive cunts … oh yeah … so inclusive its just radiating out of our asses!!
& so yeah … i’m fucked off.
i’m burger-less, disabled & fucked right the fuck off.
fuck pts(d). but fuck the system more, that never will include & cater for everyone, no matter who we are & what we do.
i feel for you ~ chaka khan, 1984
i know i’ve done this sorta post before, but i can’t be fucked a. finding said repetitive post to make sure i’m not exactly repeating myself; exactly, b. linking to it & c. ahhh i just can’t be fucked.
i mean, @ the end of the fucking day, who cares whether i repeat myself except that pedantic little voice in own head that says its a No-No … & those blogger advice peeps who give super-duper but fucking tiring blogging advice. dudes, its waaayyy to much to live up too!
me & music.
we have a longstanding intimate relationship.
actually, other than being sexual assaulted, i think its one of the longest relationships i’ve had with something. ikr. don’t get to say that every fucking day ay!
what those white ‘professionals’ didn’t tell me, was that memories are attached to our senses. & yes, thats ‘good’ & ‘bad’ memories.
it’s why the smell of dampness makes me shake. & why the sound of doors shutting make me freeze.
it’s also why the smell of bacon & tomatoes makes me feel @ home. & why singing lullabies makes me smile.
essentially, i attached my memories to a shitload of various tunes throughout my lifetime … & fuck, i’m getting old now lol so theres quite a few songs holding quite a few memories.
but i do marvel @ the fact that, when my little body couldn’t hold anymore, i just hung it on a song. & i still do.
who can i run to? ~ jones girls, 1979
don’t tell me! ~ concord dawn ft tiki tane, 2004
if i told you that ~ whitney and michael, 2000
the only one ~ lionel richie, 1983
i managed to drive 11 ks out of our little town, right up to the main state highway.
(shit photo i know, soz)
& when i got there, i was super proud of myself … of course lol & then …
i freaked out! big fat L O L. yep i had’a size 8 panic fuck cos i was excited cos i got that far; which went to a 9.5 once i realised i hadn’t brought some of my ‘lessen-panic-fuck’ mojo with me & was starting to have a hot flush!
wtf the was i thinking!
however … upside is, obviously, i made it back!
i rang my mama whilst i was out there next to all the action lol, & told her how proud i was :)
so, she decided to come celebrate with me … coffee & cake of course!
i think that’s part of what got me home actually.
as proud as i was of my blelf, i learnt a few valuable lessons. one of course being, ‘double check yo bag bitch! before you leave the house!’ ; second …
as much as i want to be alright, i learned-did this day, that i’m not alright. not completely. & it’s gonna take a lot more small steps before i can drive freely.
when i got out to the main highway i was quite overwhelmed by all the noise & the movement of all the cars. the picture doesn’t portray that, but it was busier than what i was used too. & for all these years, i haven’t been able to navigate around all the extra noise & movement so have managed what i could. so, as i try to take more of all that stuff on again, its no wonder i felt overwhelmed.
i was absolutely fucking munted when i got home & ended up sleeping for like an hour!
even the following day, i slept in & felt like i had been run over by a fucking bus when i did wake up. i still feel a bit shattered actually, but am getting there.
good lesson learnt though. & a few exhausted moments are definitely worth it.
next time i’ll be more prepared.
yes there’ll be a next time. & little bit further afield <3
shining star – the manhattans, 1980
remedy – black crowes, 1992
tell him ~ lauryn hill, 1998
whilst opening the car door ffs, included a forgotten little gem, in line with the other one.
i was pregnant, vulnerable. fat as fuck.
i showed up to my grandparents house to find the pedo fucker there in all his filthy glory.
he had a habit of showing up there uninvited & just sticking around & torturing the living shit out of them for as long as they’d let him.
he’s such a cunt.
anyway, i was pretty young & timid back then. & feeling vulnerable, like i said.
no-one had any real idea of the effect this cunt had had on my existence, & i was only really just starting to feel the tidal wave of the havoc he’d reeked.
i was married @ this time, & for some reason, the husbands job hunting came up in conversation. he’d decided to apply for prison officer work …
well pedo cunt flipped his lid.
& when he flipped he became more of a scary motherfucker than when he was in his ‘resting’ mode.
i cant really explain the fear he caused, but i knew it was amplified by the fear i felt from everyone else around me. this had been the same all my life.
no-one except my grandmother, ever stood up to him; & she was admonished for doing that mainly because it caused the pedo cunt to escalate.
long story short … he escalated & i froze with fear … gathered my senses slightly … & then took off.
i drove & sobbed for an hour.
this was another piece of the reason i decided to out the filthy cunt.
ms fat booty – mos def, 1999
i’m dreamin – christopher williams, 1991
break ups to make ups – method man ft d’angelo, 1999
never gonna give you up ~ rick astley, 1987