being silenced.

produces a lump in my throat.

*current status*:

coughing that shit up.


thats all.

kpm©


 

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drivings shit anyway

#throwback Jun 29, 2015 @ 14:37, and a quick browse down memory lane to remind my shizz of how fucking awesome I am.


Decided to give driving a crack again. This time I had someone else with me. I was alright for about 4 minutes…then my passenger decided they wanted to stop…wanted me to go faster…take a different turn…pull over…OMG

I forgot to remind them that this is my exercise in remaining calm; concentrating; slow but steady progress. This is not an exercise in how fast I can get there…being polite to passer bys…looking sporty and fucking spiffing! So I ended up in tears…which fucks me off even more!…I got home, in one piece, in tears, and spent the next half hour bringing my heart rate down and self fucking soothing!

Oh how I detest this shit!

I wish I could drive like I used too…drink like I used too…go for a walk like I used too…catch up with peeps like I used too…go to the god dam mail box like I used too!

Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it.

Yes…I’ll try again tomorrow…aannnndddd BREATH…


photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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unfucking thyself 101.122

Karakia:

Atua

Tukua

Homai to Aroha

Ae.

122.

Believe it or not, I’m still trying to find my voice.

After a shittone of years of being silenced in a shittone of ways, I am still unravelling who I am and what I have to say.

Some of it is necessary.

Some of its not.

Some of it is pure and utter rage.

Some of it is not.

What I’m learning, is that it is ALL alright.

We all need to find our voice. Find what we want to say and say it. And voicing shit is not always something that comes out of our mouths. But it is emotion and emotional and it needs to be told.

Our stories, the good and the bad … the mundane and the horrific … all need to be told … some way.

Today I found more of my voice.

And now I have a sore throat.

But thats Ok, because my throat was sore-er when I was actively silent.


photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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fuck this guy:

POTUS:

fullsizeoutput_110a


#throwback Jan 21, 2017 @ 15:59


 

in-dependence

if I am dependent on another

where is in-dependence.

.

at birth I am dependent on another

for food, shelter, clothing

touch, security and safety.

.

as I grow, am I to become

more in-dependent.

.

able to tie my shoes.

learn how to interact with others.

learn responsibility.

.

is that in-dependence.

.

what if I am not taught anything

and I fumble around alone.

am I still in-dependent.

.

what if I am not the given tools and skills

to lead off, to learn.

does that make me in-dependent;

yet dependent.

.

dependent on another to do for me.

if they are not willing to teach, support

in-dependence.

if they are threatened by it.

.

do I run away

fight away

drive away.

.

are they dependent on me

to be dependent on them.

.

does in-dependence from them

hurt them.

does it hurt me more

to be dependent.


#throwback Nov 12, 2015 @ 01:44


kpm©


 

afraid of.

am i afraid


kpm©


 

theres alot going on back here.

in my head,

heart,

body,

that is:

unfold time.


thats all.

for now.

kpm©


 

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nightmares … four

 

#throwback Jul 15, 2015 @ 18:33


I move along, through a place…space. I stop and can feel someone /something watching…moving with…miminking, me. I turn and theres noone there. I keep doing what i was doing…washing my hands…folding…picking something up…and it moves with me. Just short of me. Like a stutter or movie thats not quite in time with the talking. I turn again and there’s no one there but i can feel them/it breathing. Breathing on me, on my face; and i can feel it moving. I start to cry and i can hear a snigger. Not loud, low. I stop crying. It stops sniggering. I move, it moves. Im scared. Pressure tightens on my neck. It sniggers. I cant breath.

I wake up.

I think i was about 6-7 when these started.


dreams are just plain old bitches mate.


photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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yes, *groan* another racism rant…from the ‘coloured’ perspective

#throwback Jul 18, 2016 @ 20:21


It’s completely in our faces at the moment, and I know this is a good thing … as in it’s getting talked about. But Oh My Fuck, it is wearying!

Yesterday was a tough day on Facebook … LOL, I know; 1st world problems!. But the thing with Facebook, and other social media mechanisms; is while they are brilliant for information sharing; for networking etc; that doesn’t mean its just the ‘enlightened’ that get to share their info / findings with like-minded peeps.

The ‘racists’ are using the same tool also. And again, Oh My Fuck …

I guess, it means we, meaning the entire social media universe, gets to hear / see the bullshit these pricks have been spilling for generations … but only to the coloured folks and amongst their like-minded ignoramus fuckwit KKK mates.

However, they seem to have employed a couple of old school tactics and twisted them quite impressively with a PC tone, to validate their airhead theories and introduce them into the conversation.

Heres a couple of the latest:

“Racism is a perception … you are obviously not ‘free’ in your mind and are still tied to the ‘theory’ that is racism”

“Racism is a tool of Marxism and mind control”

“I worked with the Indigenous and there are some good ones (indigenous that is). The rest just don’t  know how to act properly”

“If you obey the law then you won’t have to worry about being shot”

*Now as a side-ish note – I don’t dislike / hate white people, in fact, some of my best friends are white! (hahaha) … seriously though; there are hateful fuckwits everywhere, some of them pale some of them non-pale … I think though, whats happening at the moment within the Indigenous / Black communities / cultures, is IN RESPONSE to a fuckload of years of pent-up frustration … it is IN RESPONSE to grief … it is IN RESPONSE to the fuckload of years of brutality that we and our ancestors have endured … it is IN RESPONSE to feeling powerless … it is IN RESPONSE to trying to integrate and remain co-sure and it failing miserably … it is ALL IN RESPONSE … it is our response … and however that looks to those that are not responding is really beside the point … it has never been about YOU … you are able to adjust your perceptions / learn … it is about the sins of your fathers and their fathers and the mess they left behind. It is about being tired of grieving and carrying that grief. It is about being tired full stop … it is about wondering when the hell its going to actually change and if all ‘our’ ‘work’ actually has made a difference at all … because right now I’ll be fucked if I actually know!*

 

So, in the last couple days, I’ve been punching hard, at the ignorance … at the ‘theories’ … I’ve been trying gently, and at times, not so gently … to educate.

It occurred to me though, whilst taking a dump this morning; that all my responses are similar to those that I’ve had, or did, employ to respond to fuckwits that thought, and said, I should ‘get over’, ‘move on’, ‘stop whinging’ about being sexual assaulted as an infant. AY! God forbid I don’t have a reason to be fucking annoyed about that! Grrrr.

So this ‘racism process’ and the responding is shaping up to be a somewhat familiar replay… on a personal level.

I’ve gone through all my usual discussions with them…the ignorant.

I’ve begged and pleaded for them to understand … for them to understand where it is I’m coming from … to walk a fraction of a fucking mile in my shoes and feel what it’s like. But they don’t want to … for whatever reasons.

So how do I, “I”, continue on so the grief and the frustration of the whole fucking thing doesn’t completely consume ME?

Do I keep trying to educate? Do I ignore it? Not look at any of it? Do I slump into a state of despair and relaxing ignorance???

It kind of sounds nice …

But…

The thing is, if I didn’t want to respond to ignorant assholes about being sexually assaulted as an infant, I just didn’t tell them. Or don’t tell them. On a particularly hard day, I don’t tell peeps I feel anxious or am having a panic attack because I feel trapped … No, I just tell them I have a contagious virus and they need to stay away. I tell them I’m busy. I tell them I’ve got a really bad period this month and am bleeding like a stuck pig. Any of those excuses are reason enough for them to stay away and NOT ask more questions.

BUT…

I can’t lie or make excuses about their perception of me being BROWN, of COLOUR, a NIGGER, a BLACK BITCH, a DIRTY MAORI …. I can’t change my skin pigmentation! So there is NO escaping it … ever. I can be ‘enlightened’; feel ‘free in the mind’; study Marxism and understand their theories; I can learn to live in their world … but I cannot change my skin colour and another’s perceptions that come with them seeing that skin colour.

I can be comfortable in my own skin and I can respond, or not, to the ignorance that is perpetuated on ME and ‘my kind’ everyday. But does that change ‘their’ perception of me?

You see, saying that we are under some sort of Marxist mind control and we are not ‘free’ from racism, is like telling someone with no legs, inhabiting a wheelchair, that they are not ‘free’ from their ‘disability’ and are ‘victims’ of their situation –  because they are under a Marxist mind control system and if they just ‘free’ themselves of all the negativity they themselves will be ‘free’!.

Guess what though fuckwits … It won’t grow their legs back will it? Because at the end of the day, ‘free’ or not, they will still be in a fucking wheelchair with no fucking legs and having to listen to the bullshit fucking rhetoric espoused by some fuckwit with fucking legs!

Its blaming the dude for having no legs and then condemning any response he may have toward the ignorance being dished out at him.

That is Bullshit.

I don’t know what to do about it all … venting is a start, thank fuck for blogging!

But then what??

Do I continue to teach the mokos that this is what their reality is? That there are ignorant fuckwits everywhere … that if they are accosted by the poupou, they need to comply …. that only if the environment is ‘safe’, they should speak out …

My tipuna (ancestors), going back close to 100 years ago; taught their children to NOT speak their language in schools or to anyone else who was pale skinned or in authority … to blend … to be as pakeha (white) as possible …

I always wondered WHY … now I get it.

They were preserving their future generations the only way they knew how. They were protecting them. They were ensuring their god dam survival.

I don’t want to do that … but I am thinking that maybe I need too!!!. Is the world really still that demented and twisted???

*sigh*


photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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nwo.take.

#throwback Mar 28, 2015 @ 02:12


I lost all my accounts after two years of trying to juggle everything financial, not succeeding and ending up bankrupt. I don’t have any more bills. Money. Accounts.

But….With no bank account means no money. Our fabulous society decided in all its wisdom to only enable those with a bank account to be able to receive direct credits from Accident Compensation, go figure.

That established.

So how do you open a bank account if you can’t leave the house? You do it online? Yes, up until a point…then they want to SEE you.

So, this meant I had to talk on the phone, leave the house, leave my town, and interact with a stranger/s. Hard as fuck when you’ve reached the point of not interacting with anyone through any means of communication anymore.

Anyway…

This is how I did it….because I had too.

I went through all the ‘what ifs’, and ‘I don’t want toos’, took awhile, but I sifted it through

I breathed deeply when questioned about the ‘drama’ I was creating for ‘such a simple thing’

I breathed

I rang the bank and hung up

Paced and breathed

I rang back

I made the appointment

I confirmed what I needed

I breathed deeply in the days prior

I maintained myself hours prior

I breathed and paced

I got myself ready and papers organized

I didn’t take medication

I breathed through the car ride there

I listened to my music through the headphones

I got to the bank

I paced and breathed

I spoke to the bank person

I answered questions and produced appropriate papers

I asked appropriate questions

I maintained myself and my breathing when I got angry because it was taking too long

I finished

I breathed

I got back into the car, with headphones on, and breathed

I cried through car ride

I let myself cry

I reminded myself to remind myself what I had done good

I remembered to breath

I paid for the transport

I thanked the driver for the transport and support at the other end

I completed my mission

It was fucken hard

And I now have a fucken bank account

And I did it

Welcome me to the new world order

Addendum – Mar 14, 2016:

*Whats interesting about this is, in light of recent conversations regarding loss of income and pending homelessness. It’s a plight that can happen to anyone. Yes anyone. But is more likely to happen to those that are ill.

All it takes is the loss of an income and the house of cards comes tumbling down. To ‘get back’ into mainstream ‘life’ is ridiculously difficult because of the vicious circle that says … you can’t get an account without an income – no income, no house – no house, no address – no address, no income, no account – no account, no benefits – no benefits, no income, no insurance / medical assistance – No Money.

I’ve learnt to live on very little and I have a partner who pays for household expenses. I currently receive $35 a week (and have been waiting over 3 years for the re-assessment for this) and that pays for minimal medical costs and the internet. Both of which are life lines for me.

I am thoroughly pleased with the progress I’ve made. I do wish our ‘governance’ wouldn’t make it so hard to live.

JS.


photography & art @kpm-artist