and last, but not least …

My ACC assessment is on Tuesday morning at 9 fucking am.

I am nervous as fuck. And have only been waiting for like, over 5 years.

This is Me versus the System … again.

This is Me trying to act normal – but not too normal – to get what I need.

This is Me being bent over and fucked up the proverbial asshole.

This is Me hating, with every little fibre of my being, being controlled.

This is Me hating on the medical system big time.

This is Me trying to be Me and knowing that that will Not cut it here.

This is Me, hating them determining what and who I am.

This is Me detesting that to get an extra few dollars, I need to figurative spread my legs and let them do what ever the fuck they want.

This is Me hating everything that they are.

This is Me hating everything they stand for.

This is Me continuing to a hate a system that is nothing more than a fucking farce.

This Is Me.


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 ❤


that day

there comes a day

in everyones life

when rubber meets the road

when push comes to shove

when the ice is cracked

when the birds take flight

when the wind blows through your hair

when you let loose

fly free.

When your all
















First Published on: May 3, 2016 @ 10:07 😉

that said

all I ever




was the same


as you


the freedom


to choose


make a choice


like you do



First Published on: Mar 2, 2016 @ 00:09 ❤

enact, not react

Don’t tell me how to be
Or see
you have no right
You don’t walk
In my

If I scream
If I cry
If I shoot
If I crumble
That’s mine

When I stand up
When I fight back
When I move
When I run
that’s mine too

All mine
Not yours


First Published on: Feb 12, 2016 @ 17:44 ❤


behind my door, the sunshine shines

its gleamy and bright

and looks like blankys and pillows

beyond my door, the darkness darks

its gloomy and grey

and looks like thunder and earthquakes


through my door you can see

and touch my world

through my door you can hear

and smell my world


a closed door

only opens

to a

certain knock


while you wait, you’ll hear

elevator music

screechy and annoying

but if you wait, you’ll hear


you’ll hear me


First Published on: Dec 10, 2015 @ 18:26 ❤

ahhhh not quite the ha moment

As I was posting my umpteenth photograph…i had a thought…a train tram of thoughts…

I started taking photographs as an interest, not just for documentation, while i was following my brothers lyrical career…

Partially to document the different gigs he played,  partially to escape the awkwardness of talking to new people…to ease the anxiety…

The anxiety came from new situations…feeling alone…familiarity of vulnerability…

Vulnerability creates anxiety for me…similar to feeling out of control or trapped…

Trapped is vulnerability.

Vulnerability is trapped.

Photography eventually helped me capture, or put into focus, what I see when I see something. I see its nitty grittys…that’s why I like Macro shots especially. It’s a close up view of what’s not usually seen.

Macros don’t create anxiety. Photography doesn’t create anxiety…

It helps me deal with it.

My art is similar. Painting helped me to be able to express something I couldn’t with words. Or it helped me with the canvas or back drop to create words and express what I was feeling.

Most of, no, actually all of my paintings, have been described as dark.

And dark is what I have felt for a large portion of my life.

And even when I don’t feel dark, I still see dark. Everywhere.

I’ve been dealing with anxiety for a lot longer than I thought.

*First Published on: Jul 28, 2015 @ 01:01 ❤

Interestingly enough, photography still makes Me feel at ease ❤

I don’t want to close my eyes

Sometimes I don’t want to turn the lights off…and I don’t want to close my eyes.

Sometimes I don’t want to sleep…just in case I can see what I do when my eyes are closed.

That sometimes moment…is now.

She says, the psychologist, that even though I don’t want to do something, I need to just do it anyway. It’s all part of the new theory of not letting your thoughts rule you. Just because I think something doesn’t mean that its real. Or that it should stop me.

But she’s never been in my dreams. And she’s never been there when my eyes are closed.

She says that it will get better. And she’s right in part.  It is better. Sometimes.

She says to get my ‘bag’ of sensory things when I feel like I don’t want to be present. To find the thing that helps ground me.

But I don’t know that I need grounding at the moment. I just don’t want to close my eyes. And I don’t want to be present.

I haven’t told her yet, that the thing she says I should do…the, just do it anyway…is what I’ve always said. Just do it anyway. It hurts but just do it anyway. You don’t like it but just do it anyway. It’s been the survival theme song.

And now it’s supposed to help me let go of everything that I see when my eyes are closed.

It’s some fucked up shit alright. Times like this, I wish I wasn’t giving up the pills.

But I am…and I won’t give up fighting…cos I don’t…and I will be alright…and I will close my eyes…and I will sleep…and I will be alright.

First Published on: Jun 28, 2015 @ 00:41 ❤

a sore day

I forget sometimes…then my heart starts racing…at what…the lights are too bright…the walls are too close…there are too many people…too much sound…could be any fucken thing…and if I don’t catch it in time….

my breathing speeds up….my heart starts racing more…my palms start sweating…I try to concentrate on breathing…slowly…and end up fucken crying….I cry more…and stop breathing…I remember to breath….and my insides hurt….I think to remember to stop…and take note of whats going on…for me…but my heart is still racing…my head is racing….and I want to crawl out of my skin…and run…run…run away. I want to scream….I catch my breath…and its stuck…my stomach aches….I want to be numb….but I want to crawl out of my insides even more…scale the walls by the fingernails…but there doesn’t feel like theres enough wall to scale…I remember to breath…but feel the ache….I feel trapped….there’s no place to run away from or too…breath….I hate being trapped….breath….no air…breath….chest feels crushed…head feels dizzy…eyes hurt…breath…headphones on…breath…cant find a god dam song…breath…ed sheeran, yup abit better….breath….still sweating…breath…goodie mob…strange but its working….heart rate lessening…breath….ears and brain hurts…tech 9, pharohe…yup, slowing down…breathing getting steady….heart rate almost normal…keep listening…lenny kravitz now….muscles slowly untightening

still listening….fuck you I wont do what you tell me…rage…



2 hours later


First Published on: Apr 3, 2015 @ 10:12.


366 reasons to smile ~ +201.

+201. LOL this would be feasible if I could actually get in a plane …