yo ..

im still alive .. which may be a slightly in-poor-taste joke .. but yah feel me ay ..

so, rocking some changes soon .. all for my benefit of course ;)

but hope yous are well & the gregorian new year is treating you well so far ….

yeah, thats it for now!

peace out.


. . .

Nothing permanent
Nothing heavy
Nothing like loose ends
Nothing non purposeful

Cos then I’d be a permanent .. attached .. i can lose.

Oh lawd.

Impermanent leaves room for being wrecked .


a quick peri menopausal moan ..


yup shes still rolling.

& yah know, just when i think i got it sussed .. like, ah yes, thats a hot flush .. it will pass   ..   or, ah yes, that is the walls of my uterus flexing causing pain right down through my asshole, it will pass … or, my personal favourite .. ah yes, its a constipated bowel routine even though you had the shits a couple days ago .. it will pass .. LOL.

my fuck .. its never fucking ending .. & im trying to remember that all this biology helped birth beautiful babies etc etc .. *eye ball roll*

but some days i get the curve ball & today is one of them.

hot cheeks.

thats it. flushed as fuck hot ass cheeks.

nothing else.

& it feels like those bitches are on fire. so much so i thought i had a fever.

yup i checked all that & nope i dont.

finally googled & guess what comes up. thats right, peri fucking menopause.

i dont know how to settle uncomfortable hot ass cheeks down cos i aint ever had them. fuck.

lol, i mean in the big scheme of things, annoying hot cheeks isn’t really huge, other than the fact that they’re annoying.

so today im doing ice packs on the cheeks with a jersey on so the rest of me doesnt freeze ffs. & ima taking it easy.

*insert the usual*



tis been a brewing ..

which isn’t really usual for me,  right.

but i haven’t quite been able to get my head round it all .. so this, as usual, will tumble out as it does.

as a fore-mention .. apparently the hormones dont care if the world is struggling with some kind of epic pandemic proportionalities .. they will still fuck wit cha lol.

sooo ..

the last couple weeks have seen our country move from a full on level 4, which included a tonne of fear & complete lockdown – no travel or delivery services except for ‘essential services’ .. which also meant ‘essential’ was subsequently, redefined .. then just like that, apparently the worst was over & we moved from a 4 to a 3 .. & that included non-contact services could re-open, peeps could go back to work (non-essential) as long as there was social distancing (yes, that also got redefined as an actual thing) put in place .. this also included the re-opening of shit services including Maccas .. & good lawd did we fall for it or what!!! ques for miles, rubbish for miles.  .. then all of a sudden, & i say that with the attached drama that is intended lol .. we’re moving from 3 to 2. & this is where our country be atm.

i’ll pause that bus here ..


i’ve watched the world, literally, display some fucked up behaviour over the last month and a half. the ‘good’ upshot, is ive been able to compare my pts(d) with the anxiety & symptoms being readily displayed on social media, & find an unusual balance / comparison / reality.

for me, life over the last decade, has been about adjustment, utilising resources & finding resources i didn’t know existed .. learning .. fast & slow .. trying to process @ a pace that suits me & then recalibrate for a world that, as a whole, doesnt give a shit about me or people like me.

i’d come, or was fast arriving, prior to the covid, to a place of trying to accept me for me on a deeper level. that anxiety exists .. pts(d) is a symptom, healing takes place @  levels & is continuous, & getting stuck isn’t always a bad thing. i’d also started to embrace the beauty in it all. that being ‘stuck’ meant quiet .. quiet appreciation for whats going on right here & now .. what nature / life has to show you even if you’d rather be doing something else.

& then when the world ground to a halt & toilet paper became scarce & toilet paper jokes became the thing *eye ball roll inserted*, i realised how un-ready & un-prepared people were for being ‘un-well’. i’d spent the past 10 plus years grappling with something they all had approximately 3 days to adjust too. at that point, i hoped there’d be some kind of cosmic shift *inserting another eye ball roll* & a universal awakening of some kind.

instead, they made tik toks, decided that supermarkets workers were actually worth something & took up hand washing.

it all disturbed me, but i couldn’t put my finger on the why it disturbed me. people are freaks & really, did this behaviour surprise me? nope. so why be disturbed by it?

because .. as i soon discovered .. it was in my hood.

what does that mean?

because ive cultivated ‘alternative’ resources, avenues of support etc & they’ve all been via the internet .. i’ve also learnt how to wade through the sometimes ses pit and bullshit that is the internets .. & then to have millions of peeps, all new to the game, get up in there and disturb its flow … wellllllll, that messed with me feng shui.

so what was my point again …

ummm ..

i dont know that we’ve actually actuals learnt anything.

now that the internets (round here anyways) have died down & everyones returned to their ‘normal’ lives, its become apparent, to me anyways, that they were quite content with the pollution, the humdrum, the bills, the raucous, the lame ass-ness .. the complacency. yes, thats it .. they’re quite content with the complacency that comes with ‘normality’.

but im not.

im not now, nor have i ever been.



when .. reminisce

Not sure what it happened really. When you stopped talking. Stopped listening. 

or were you always that way?

Was it about the same time as me not being able to meet all your needs ? Or possibly when I decided to focus on saving myself because apparently I wasn’t the same person who you met all those years ago? Or was it when I could no longer give as many fucks as you wanted me to give.

Or was it a culmination of all of the above.

It’s not easy watching you sink away .. eating your own words and regret.

But then I remember.

You left me to fend for myself.

You said it was too hard.

I was too hard.

I’m pretty sure that’s not how love works.

I’m no expert in that department though.

Try as I might, to unfold how we got to this, I find myself asking my Nan .. is this what it was like for you? To be belittled, ignored and largely unloved?


It’s a strange strange thing.

kpm ©


watching shit ..

here’s an interesting turn of events i shall place my opinion on .. just cos i can.

as i’ve watched the ‘events’ unfold in the last couply weeks, there is a pattern emerging.

its one peeps tend to go through over a longer period of time, especially those that are faced with a traumatic event or illness or disability etc .. [its one i’ve been unfolding for years ..]

theres denial, then embracing & trying to turn it into a positive thing, then exhausting your current resources & energy, then reframing & looking for alternatives, then back to the positive mumbo jumbo, then a lull (depression), then recalibrating & finding more alternatives after your demand for things to go back to the way they use to be dont work .. & then that is followed by another slump & further denial.

in the denial phase there are certain behaviours apparent. one is the ‘fuck you i’ll do what i want’ mentality, another is ‘fuck this im shit scared & gonna be as complaint af so i can get on with it’ aka back to my old life .. within that framework theres a see-saw, from one extreme to the other. that needs to happen to get to the balance that you can live with.

if you dont look at the shit that presents itself, ie our personal shit storm .. & continue on in outright denial .. you will run out of energy & resources.

Because, my furry little friends, shit is not the same. its changing. 

the stuff you could run from & throw yourself in to eg work, play, dissociative BS .. is not longer available for your embellishment. now im all down for a sedative (in whatever form that takes) or 2 .. imo, its necessary to transition.

but heres the kicker .. its got to be a transition.

you gotta make peace with the fact the shit aint the same and is never going to be. you gotta look at the shit that you dread .. which is usually YOU. you gotta do that process no matter whether its sickness, disability, trauma or the current circumstances. 

the reality is .. this present situation, is not a new thing for indigenous people. 

they have been coming for us for years. we are used to this & have learned to work around it. yes, many of us have gone quiet. but we’re watching. & we’re listening. & we’re wondering if you were listening too.

advice : ground yourself .. figure out what you’re made of. NOW. & fast.

dont be ‘that guy’. 

cos, we all still have control of Us. of how we process .. & how we respond. & in all reality, thats all we’ve ever really had control of .

kpm ©



photography .241

#seasons #change#macro #colour #colourphotography#canon #canonphotography
#canonglobal #igphoto #ignature#photograph #photography#photographer #photographers#photostyle #photographyoftheday
#photographyislife #lensculture
#fineartphotography #kpm©

kpm © : ig @kpm-artist



photography .240

changes ..
#nature #leaves #seasons #change#macro #colour #colourphotography#canon #canonphotography
#canonglobal #igphoto #ignature#photograph #photography#photographer #photographers#photostyle #photographyoftheday
#photographyislife #lensculture
#fineartphotography #kpm©

kpm © : ig @kpm-artist


yet another dream ..

the other night i dreamt about a river. clean & clear. 2 rivers actually.

flowing through my house. i could see them through glass floors.

& as i looked at them i thought, fuck they’re clear & clean ..

i should get my camera.

then i just stood there thinking .. i’ll have to go upstairs, find the new batteries, change the batteries & then come back down to take the photo/s. the river could have changed by then. ? .

then the next thought was : is it more important to get a photo or just view it & enjoy it. here & now.


i woke up feeling anxious.

anxious that i’d made the wrong choice.

that i had missed some mind blowing photo op OR missed something that nature herself wanted me to see.


& thats me.


continuously anxious that i’m doing the wrong thing.


what the actual fuck.


choices & change. they seem to go hand in hand.

kpm ©


another quickie(ish) update:

we’ve had birthdays & a few more coming up. i been breathing & trying to chill the fuck out .. a few screams later i’m refocussing & re-chilling.

yup thats what i been doing. for most of the fucking year actuals.

this weekend is my youngest mokos 1st birthday. right!! holy fuck, its been a whole year.

i remember prepping for his birth. freaking out cos i didn’t know if i could do the hospital. turning my ass inside out trying to figure out whether i was going to be a fucking help or hinderance.

yup, i did that.

& 1 year on i felt it in the pit of my gutt, that here i am, yes, still alive, but still turning my shit inside out to make everything ok so i will be ok for this event … which i might add … im actually looking forward too.


is it ever going to change?

is it ever going to get easier?

am i ever going to NOT post lame ass pics about how i made it up the driveway or managed to sit in the car or mingled like some social freak for more than 10 minutes … is it ever going to fucking change??

so, thats where i was @ at the end of last week.

i was done.

like, done done.

over it.

so i did what i do & contacted my tipuna.

yup, thats what makes more sense to me than any other fucking thing i know.

they came back with the most simplest solution that i shoulda known but have been too twisted to see.

i contacted my friend to do an intuitive mirimiri. its a hard thing  to explain so im not going to. theres google for those that are interested. just know, this is a concept of healing that is specific to my culture.

my mate came.

2 hours later i had been re-set.

i could feel it in the depths of my gutt. things felt clearer, not so shady.

its been a few days & i can still feel my being recalibrating, but its aight. i’ve noted a few mind shifts too …


i decided i wanted to go out for breakfast the other day.

as you know, i been bitching on about missing the coffee shop experience / culture, over all other things that i ‘miss’ post – pts(d) retard. & recently i had added “sitting in our local coffee shop by myself & being ok with it all”, to the new psychologists list of ‘goals’ to work on … *yes, insert the eye ball roll* … but that was where i was at. am at. i miss that shit, like in the depths of my soul, i fucking miss it.

so breakfast … fuck it i thought, lets go, i’m doing this.

i got there. i freaked. i breathed. i freaked. i ordered. i breathed. breathed some more. put in ear plugs, did my shizz … & finally found some kind of momentum where i could actually take in what was happening around me.

after about 5 minutes of ‘noticing’ or ‘being present’ (*yep another eye ball roll inserted … big fat eye fucking ball roll … *) … i noticed that the space i was sitting in … was awful.

the tables were dirty.

the chairs were stacked up in the corners.

there was dirt on the floors & sand & grit on the couch.

the magazines looked like they had been gathered out from under some old dudes bed. no shit.

& the music. oh my fuck. the music was horrendous!!!

what was cool was that it didn’t freak me out. it was just noted.

& then the food came out.

lordy lordy lord.

in simple terms, i wouldn’t have expected my dead cat to eat it. not to mention the cutlery that was dragged out for our use, was covered in fingerprints, possibly dating back to a homicide from the early 1900s.

now i know im fussy, like, clean fussy. & i wholeheartedly embrace that shit. & there are certain times when i’ll grin & bare a certain situation out of politeness (yes, i can be polite lol). … but ‘fuck NO’ when im in a paying position with an expectation of certain ‘standard’ of cleanliness that needs to be adhered to because they are charging for a motherfucking service or product.

what i found interesting about my experience, was that i had noticed it. that somewhere in my ‘grieving for the coffee culture & sick of being a pts(d) retard’, i hadn’t actually noticed whether the space i was attempting to be in, was decent enough to be in.

in that instance, i realised i needed to tweak my goal. that yes i missed a certain culture, but if this place couldn’t provide it, then it was my job to either create it or find a space where it actually existed instead of settling for bullshit.

now this attitude, i like.

its a gentle shift, but a precise one.

& one i’m definitely going to keep fucking with.

yes, theres changes on my horizon. deep changes. good changes.




the gutt-wrench.

the weekend just gone, i said ‘goodbye’ to my daughter & my beautiful moko.

moko is going to live with her papa & nanny, & my girl has joined the army.

i hate goodbyes.

i prefer – ‘see you later’.

but this whole process has had me reeling for months & as d.day got closer, it did a number on my insides, which i am still slowly processing.

i’m trying to be kind to myself & roll with the punches … but i’m feeling slightly bruised now.

i’m not sure how to explain it all, but thats about the size of me & fucking emotions.

i feel raw though. raw & vulnerable. & i hate it. but i’m sitting with the whole fucking thing.

it’s change. & its a new chapter. for all of us.

kpm ©


how we respond

I was at a Hui (meeting/gathering) a few years ago … one of those ‘this is going to change the way I think’ sort of gatherings.

The jist of it all was how best to respond to The Crown in relation to all their past, current and continued breaches of Te Tiriti O Waitangi and the Indigenous in Aotearoa (New Zealand). Te Tiriti O Waitangi is one of our founding documents in New Zealand … It’s why any and all immigrant / European peoples were able to settle here. It was also supposed to be a partnership between The Crown and the Indigenous, to enable them to reside here, and us to retain autonomy. The Crowns first breach came within months of signing and we, Tangata Whenua (indigenous/people of the land), have been talking, debating, strategizing, fighting … ever since. Each generation has done their piece … added to the history of reconciliation, reparation, justice and moving on. The Crown however, jumped from the discussions straight to the ‘moving on’ bit … and their idea of moving on entails the Indigenous shutting their mouths and getting on with being imprisoned, living in an impoverished state … generally being at the bottom of the barrel.

Anyway, at this Hui it was discussed that we had done and tried virtually everything short of revolution by violence. And while there were many that still thought this to be the only option; there was another voice that got heard that day. An old guy .. who’d obviously lived a long, enlightened life.

He started talking about the way we had always done things … the things we had done so far. That we, too, were skipping a step. He believed that our tipuna (ancestors) had carried an enormous amount of grief over the rape and pillage that had been done to us as a people and the land, that we were entrusted to care for.

He believed we had already done everything that we needed to, in response to the Crowns breaches and continued atrocities. And that the issue or the problem, didn’t lie with Us.

He said … that the issue was who we were dealing with; their lack of mana (dignity); that they continuously move the goal posts, because that is their nature. They had and have no intention of being honourable and trustworthy. Of doing the right thing. We gave them the benefit of the doubt and it cost us generations of lives and livelihood. But history should tell US that their core intentions have never changed. Colonisation was always their intention, not partnership.

None of this was said in malice, which I thought was astonishing. But in closing he said, well asked … what are we going to do differently?

By that he meant, we had tried it The Crowns way … we had let them define the boundaries in which we respond. That we needed to stop doing that and find a way to respond that is ON OUR TERMS and is in the best interests of US.

So when we marched to Parliament, this time, we did it in silence, (hikoi wahangu), with the intention of taking our tipunas maemae (grief) and laying it where it belonged … returning it to the abusers so to speak . Along with legislation that has been breached since 1840.

This was the last land march/protest I did. It was most profound and extremely hard to explain. We could feel the weight of sadness move with us; what should have taken about 20 minutes to walk, took close to 2 hours. But it didn’t feel like it. Everything went quiet … and we were in the city … all the traffic went silent; even the birds went silent. All you could hear was us walking. And the gentle weeping from the old people who were with us.

And while the mainstream media down played the whole thing, as they do .. It was one of the most memorable and life changing land marches I’ve ever done. Because our intention was different than other times.

We got to respond as we needed to, not how ‘They’ wanted us too.

kpm ©


diverting in 3,2,1 …

there will be a few changes which may cause a few interim disruptions but overall, should add to the complete full-bodied experience that is moi.

your welcome :)




the goddesses heard my plea.

and we’re steady … ish,

thank fuck!

kpm ©



Savethey’re a brewing

*please goddesses: go easy ay*

kpm ©




not entirely sure why im here:

Says a part of Me, whilst the other part rolls its eyeballs and says … cos its your fucken blog yah dick!

Lol. Yes I even speak to myself in that tone.

I know it’s been abit of a rough week, for sure; and theres a lot going on at home (house selling), but I think after the tonsillitis and trip to the hospital I came home feeling ‘different’. Not sick different, just different.

What I didn’t get into detail about in that post (because I was trying to do the high five Me shit before I let anybody elses shit take up room in my world …), but vaguely touched on in this post:

was speaking or voicing our / my truth, and not remaining silent.

Before I took my trip to the hospital, two things happened in quick succession to each other. And I don’t believe its an accident … shit like this never is. But I’ve been having a hard time connecting the dots.

The first, was someone sent me a screen shot of a post my father had posted on his FB page, with a photo of me, my (deceased) sister and him.

Heres the statement he made:

When I read it, with the photo, I was immediately angry. Not raving angry … just wtf type angry.

Being sick, wouldn’t let Me get into the repost and reply rampage I wanted to inflict at that time.

So I put it aside.

Not more than 10 minutes later, the second incident happened. I had someone ring Me and demand (no shit!) that I do such-and-such for them, Now. And when I told them No, that I wasn’t feeling well, they went into a tirade of abuse aimed squarely at my lack of nurturing and caring abilities. Not once did they take note that I could hardly speak or was clearly sick. I was so astounded I responded with my go too, and in an extremely pained and raspy voice said ‘fuck you and go fuck yourself’.

I was pissed though.

Annoyed at not being heard, understood … but more than that … different than that. I was just pissed. How dare they!

And then I continued to choke and then we went to the hospital lol.

The following day, as shit as I felt, I knew I needed to respond to my fathers bullshit.

So I attached my comments to the screen shot I’d been sent and let rip.

Now I figured one of 2 things would happen … yes thats how I WAS analysing it before I started writing it, and then something else kicked in, which was … fuck this shit … and fuck it.

So thats how this post made its debut; with no fucks given, just a gnawing in my gutt that wouldn’t go away … which is the Need to Voice … to speak the truth.

Theres plenty of posts throughout this blog referring to the biological douche-pool that is my father so I won’t go into that here.

What surprised Me, was those who actually replied. They had seen my fathers original post and thought I was dead. Another person had messaged my daughter and thought she was dead as we look similar in the photo. And this has been going on for a couple of days.

So, I posted in my comments the following:

One of my cousins posted it on my fathers original post.

The feedback for Me was awesome. I had cousins, relieved I wasn’t dead … and an aunty sent her love. I had my niece, who i haven’t seen for years, thank me, because she was over how this dick has treated her mama (my step-sister) for years.

Now those connections were well worth the post.

But still I am perplexed. And I feel different.

I think it has something to do with how I have been treated most of my life and that somewhere in me at the moment I have an amazing almost righteous indignation to the whole fucking lot of it.

How fucking dare he? How dare he!

I have no other explanations or reasonings that I want to fill the air with.

Just … how dare he …

More specifically, how dare he do that to Me.


Him and all his kind, that have taken and shat on and not listened and bullied and beaten and raped and manipulated and Silenced for complaining about their behaviours or questioning their behaviours or wanting them to take their behaviours some other fucking place.

All of them!

Fuck them.

I think I am done.

And if I am done, then theres going to be some blood-shed. Possibly more figuratively speaking than literal, but whatever.

I think this is whats changing. This is what is different.

That I am important.

I’m important because I am alive and here and I deserve to take up space.

Now this is new for Me.

I’m still unsure of all the logistics.

But I’m cool with that for now.

Note: of great interest to Me, was I felt not one shred on anxiety as all this unfolded. Now isn’t that fucken something.

kpm ©



reconciling thine hormones.

they’re heating up.

and not in a ‘i’m so sexy’ way neither.


thats it for now.








Homai to Aroha


our black panther, Ika. xo

As a general ‘rule of thumb’ …

[which by the way, was an old law which stated that the stick you could use to beat your wife was to be no thicker than your thumb …]

it tends to be that one theres one or two things going to the shitter, it seems to propel a landslide type of effect.

Well, it does round here anyways.

After what I thought was a cunt of a day, and the ‘wins’ that a strove to find throughout it …

Our cat got sick … so sick in fact, that he died.

Now I’ve said it before, I’m not a huge animal person and I have attachment issues *groan and eye ball roll*; so I kinda thought I wouldn’t be upset with the passing of our fur ball.

But I cried like a little bitch. And I’m still reasonably upset. I think I was more upset that my partner was so upset. Our cat was his compadre <3

*Digression: Parents: Let your little biological males cry … in fact, encourage it! It’s fucking healthy!

So with the cat gone and the partner off to bury him, the real estate people we rent from, show up for ‘a house inspection’ [hate those] and the ‘For Sale’ paperwork for the house. So its official, the house is up for sale as of this weekend. Roll on intrusive Open Homes and awkward questions ewwww. Anyway, I think we have that sort of sorted … and I’m just gonna roll with it all … oh, and get some more anti-anxiety’s ;)

But theres this uneasy awkward feeling … I guess cos shit is changing …

The upshot: I survived / am surviving the loss of an animal that I thought I wasn’t attached too, and the tears and the attached emotional element thingees … and that as much as I don’t like them and they make me feel like an awkward retard … I am Ok.

The house will get sold and we will move on. We might not be by our beach anymore, we might even be in a tent on my daughters front lawn … but we’ll be Ok. I will be Ok.

Anyway … I miss our cat. And missing shit sucks … but I wouldn’t want to have Not had him around.

I guess thats the pay-off, or not, with attachment and love? I’m still figuring it out … and rolling with it …

kpm © : ig @kpm-artist


yep. the hormones.

Now these things have been a cunt of a thing to juggle lately … not sure if thats ‘normal’, as in the ebbs and flows … or if it’s just ‘my normal’ … fuck knows …

What I am discovering however, is by increasing iron supplements just before my period, seems to help with the process … and boosting the fuck outta my immune system (vit c etc) a week before my period and during, also seems to minimise the damage done to this shining example of biological womanhood ;)

The flushes seem to have dissipated quite abit, unless i’m tearing around like a blue ass fly, then they liberally kick my ass … solution to that has been sorta simple … I pace my shit over days, instead of hours! Clever ay … *eye ball roll*

The up shot, is (dare I say it), it’s becoming ‘manageable’ … more manageable, and bearable, than it was before!

So Yip-fucking-pie!! I’m stoked with that!

kpm ©