“all your kind are the same …”
*where to start with that one … *
“all your kind are the same …”
*where to start with that one … *
#throwback Jul 2, 2015 @ 14:46 …
Jesus, mary and joseph .. just found this .. an attempt at venting, poetry, getting that shit out .. I did aight ;)
mum said you were coming to see me
I was in labour
but it might be nice to have a visitor,
‘don’t you think?’
I looked at him for help
inside my head I said
outside my head I said
“sure, that’s nice, it’ll be nice to see him”
so you came, with your girlfriend
you pedo cunt
you sat there
and told me about your trivial
fuck I hated you
but I didn’t want all that hate
to touch my baby
I didn’t want you to touch my baby
you sicko freak
I listened to you
I put up with you
but guess what fucker
I don’t have to any more!
I hear your rotting away in some
god forsaken town
with god forsaken low lives
I hope you all infect one another
and die slowly
and when your dead
I’ll come visit you
that’ll be nice won’t it?
like you did me
when I was in labour
but I’ll be knocking on the box
flicking that lid up
giving you a big prod with a big stick
just to make sure your dead
and then I’ll nail that bitch shut
with big ass nine-inch nails
and then I’ll follow that box to the cemetery
I might even dig the hole myself
and once you’re in there
I’ll offer up a prayer of thanks
to the gods of justice and peace
I’ll fill in that hole
and take a dump right on top
I’ll come visit every year
just to make sure
your still rotting with
the pedo hell hounds
Homai to Aroha
Now this isn’t my photo or meme, and this isn’t where I usually make mindful statements about someone elses arty / meaningful shizz … so apologies to whoever wrote this … my train of thought today was more in response to this rather than to criticise your truth …
So, that said … I found this in my stash of memes and was about to repost, as it had obviously resonated with Me somewhere along the way …
But yah know what … it just doesn’t anymore … and I got issues with it.
Little girls don’t learn to be strong and independent from being broken … they learn to walk with a limp. They learn to hate and disassociate … they learn to cope, strategise, steal and survive.
Little girls Should Not Have to Broken to learn how to be strong and independent.
Little girls should be able to depend on those around them, to love her and protect her.
That isn’t her issue … it’s Theirs.
Theres no high-fucking-fives to be had out of being strong and independent from being broken … it’s a stain on our fucking nation that any child is broken!!!
Get my fucking drift????
Strength comes from survival, sure. But would you really wish a whole lot of brokenness on your child so they can become strong and independent? Fuck No!
I think it’s an excuse we’ve all made up so we can justify not having intervened, spoken up, asked the right questions, made the phone call, held the gaze a little longer … all those things that people know they should do but it just feels to darn uncomfortable.
Justifying the strength of a woman later on in her life with the brokenness she has experienced … is not a reason / justification.
It’s a poor fucking excuse for humanity.
“1 in 3 women will experience some type of violence within their lifetime.”
Thats what they say … thrown out there like it’s some kind of justification – reason – okay-ness.
When you read that little stat does it make you wanna fuck up the world and put shit right?
Or does it make you go … ‘Oh dear … thats not cool’
Or does it make find ‘reasons’ … ‘what did they do? must be in the wrong place? bet they are brown …’
‘a stat is a waste of fucking time if it just justifies’
Homai to Aroha
Cos I haven’t been taking pics like I was … I’m nearly all tapped out on the fresh photograph front … so heres a re-use, and btw it’s my little icon thingy … and for those that thought it was a big white dot … it is: It’s called the Moon ;)
So this mindfulness thing hasn’t really got anything to do with the moon … but if you can find a deep spiritual connection between the 2, go for it ;)
Now, this is going to sound critical and judgey but oh well … it is whats on my mind at the moment …
Today … I’ve had a guts full of those well meaning self-help – advice bullshit bastards that are dishing out the navel gazing, westernised deep meditation advice and ‘how toos’ … like its a new thing! Like its their invention and that they came up with the shit in the first place.
Usually I can sift through and take what I need from all of this stuff, but I fell upon an article about chakras and realignment etc and part the way through reading it, I was thinking, this sounds familiar … aside from the eastern arts that ‘it’ came from …
I had a look through one of my old note books from a lady that teaches our RomiRomi …
And yes, lo and behold what do I find in there … the breathing, the balancing, the realigning of our ‘waters’ / or our energies.
It’s all ancient. It’s all what we were prior to being colonised and consumerised … and I aint just talking about the brown peeps … I’m talking all Indigenous. Because we all were once.
It annoys Me. Well today it annoys Me. Tomorrow I’ll hopefully be able to roll with it again. And my point:
Acknowledge those that have gone before you … the ancients and their wisdom … whether it be from your culture or someone elses. Acknowledge that … acknowledge them. Your fat head didn’t come up with that shit on your own. JS.
Homai to Aroha
So this is another one of those rambles … those ones that brew away for awhile, that don’t quite have the vocab to pad them out proper like … and then a wave of hormones hits … or an extra shot of limoncello is downed … or the right ignoramus espousing the spiritual awakening of the year clears their throat …
And the flipping of the bird doesn’t quite do it .. but it manages to placate the need to throttle.
Today. Is. That. Day.
Yes. This is a blog about Me working through the daily shit-fest that pts(d) and all the other happy delightful fuckerys that go with it.
Yes. I don’ always get it right. But by fuck I give it one hell of a go. Always have. Always will.
Yes. I can be cunt.
Yes. I can be a right royal cunt on some days.
But here is where I pause. Because the comparison I’m about to make, isn’t supposed to be cunty, it’s supposed to be a reality check for those who don’t understand pts(d), mental illness (I fucken hate that title … and working on another …) and ‘hidden’ illnesses …
I had someone “Pfft” My pts(d) symptoms and diagnosis the other day.
That “Pfft” was also accompanied by an eyeball roll that almost got lost at the back of their ignorant head.
And I let most of that slide … cos, hey, you can’t teach the ignorant. Well more specifically, this ignorant fool … I’ve tried … It don’t work.
My management means I have little to nil to do with this particular person.
Then, lo and behold, I have another ignoramus do a similar eye ball roll, ‘Pfft’ing, followed by a shoulder shrug and the line … “Ohhhh whatever … you’re just using it as an excuse …”
Hold the fuck up Mate ….
No-one has been this stupid for awhile … as in, saying shit like this directly too Me or within my ear shot … so big ups for having the lady balls to say it out loud … High-five and moving the fuck on …
My response however wasn’t the cordial – ness they were expecting:
‘Digression and quick back story’:
We have a nephew who has cerebral palsy. It effects his speech, coordination, walking, communicating … He was left this way after dying in utero, being cut out and resuscitated, thanks to a midwife and health system fuckup. But I won’t get into that one … Our little man is gangstah as fuck … he’s a fighter, because he has to be … he’s learning new skills everyday … his dream is to oneday … Run. Fuck he’s cool ;)
‘Back story and digression done …’
So after the above ignoramus statement, I says:
“Have you ever said that too [nephew]?”
“Would you ever say something remotely close to that to [nephew]?”
“Then why the fuck do you think you have the right to say shit like that to Me? For the record, I don’t fucking want to hear it. I have enough to deal with and I am not educating your ignorant ass hole – not now, not ever”
*Open mouthed … looking a tad surprised*
You know sometimes I am all kinds of surprised about the shit people say to others because they want them to comply, or they want to feel more comfortable, or the want some other fucked up thing that someone like Me just doesn’t get …
But I Am Over It.
No More Motherfuckers.
Me and the partner have a … well … an odd cohabitation arrangement.
It’s been 14 or 15 years … I’ve kinda forgotten how long … but its been fucking ages. And we’ve changed and growen together I guess.
The beginning of our relationship was pretty shit; add in undiagnosed pts(d) and a few non fixable injuries and you have a recipe for some fucked up stress!
Anyway … this post isn’t really about him … it’s more about the in-laws and their effect on him .. which inadvertently ends up effecting Me.
Tonight he comes back from being with them all day. He’s currently ‘fixing’ their house up … thats another long fucking story and I wont go there at the moment.
So he arrives back, looking a little tipsy, looking a little cocky and ‘feeling’ heavy. Thats the usual after a day with them
I made the mistake of asking how his day went. As selfish as that sounds, I learnt to preserve my sanity and energy, by not asking about their household.
And Note: I haven’t visited them in like 5 years. You couldn’t pay Me too.
So, I asked, and I got an hours worth of the same old dribble that they dump on him whenever he goes there.
Now I get that we love our parents, and that we want to help them and appreciate them etc etc. But this lot …
The crux of their issues are financial they reckon. I say the crux of their issues are control. They like to have a say in, a hand in, a complaint in everything their kids do. ALL their kids are adults.
This lot are still paying for one of their sons rent, household items, food, car, car payments and petrol, bills … the list goes on.
They have a mortgage they can’t pay and are on the brink of retiring. Will they cut the growen kids loose? No.
So as I’m listening to the usual complaints, my head is getting sore and my eyes are starting to squint and I can feel a panic attack coming on. I get up to move away from the conversation and the partner keeps talking, but he can see i’m over it. It takes him about another 10 minutes and he winds it up and pisses off to have a smoke.
I head straight for the sedatives.
And here I am trying to vent to get the residue off’ve my aura!
You see I have a few issues with all of it.
a. they don’t give a fuck about Me or that i have not had an income for like 4 years. Instead their financial difficulties (self made) are way more important.
b. they don’t like my ‘pretend pts(d)’ and let the partner know its all in my head and i need to get over it. Hence the reason I don’t visit.
c. my beautiful mother is on a pension. She has scrimped and saved and gone without so she can make every single cent count. And I am fucking offended when I hear about their money issues … and then that they’re buying a new car (wtf!) … and then watch my beautiful mother insulate her house with plastic bubble wrap on the windows so she doesn’t have to use the heater because she cant afford a high power bill.
These people get on my last nerve.
Will I be visiting any time soon … Hell fucking No!
Anyway … big deep breaths and I need to sleep. I’m supposed to be going for a drive with my beautiful Mama tomorrow … I’m anxious about it, but want to go … wish Me luck xo