be thyself,

“be yo’self,” they said,

“and the world will adjust.”

well ‘they’ obviously never met

‘the world’.

JS.


kpm©


 

Image

oh yeah. PSA:

public service announcement:

there’ll be a few random acts of poor-posting.

soz but not soz.

i am evolving.

or devolving.

what the fuck ever.

#yourwelcome


kpm©


kpm © : ig @kpm-artist


 

<

on other peoples blogs / posts / twitter / ig, ‘Fuck’ appears as

f*ck

f%#k

fcuk

f**k (excuse my language).

.

do they not know how to spell fuck?


thats it. ’twas a joke. IKR.


kpm©


 

shop.stop

when you send the partner to the shop cos the chick on the counter thinks he’s awesome, and gives him free stuff.

“utilising the resources”


no photograph here. the words are enough. roll on.


kpm©


 

Video

MMMBop ~ Hanson (loosely tagging this in as ‘music’ ;) )

MMMBop ~ hanson, 1997

I hated this song when it first came out, but my youngest daughter loved it!

And played it sooooo many times it was the theme song slash backing track to most of the road trips we ever took as a little family.

Wonder what ever happened to the Hansons??

Nope, don’t care ;)

to reconcile the hormones?

Hmmm what can I say about the hormones this week? They’re fuckers … and I’m having a hard time appreciating them, even though I said (in one of those fits of “oh, this sounds like a good idea” moments) I wanted to embrace the ‘end of an era of womanhood’. Yeah, turns out this ‘ending’ could be going on for like 10 years or so … fuck it.

Anywho … it is what it is … I’m still plucking, cramping, flushing (although these are calming thanks to the drop in temperature around these parts .. thank fuck), sweating, teary, dizzy, anxious, generally lethargic with random fits of rage!. I feel like Garfield … remember him? But more violent.

All I can say this week is: womanhood sucks ass.

 


kpm ©


 

the changes: hormones & shit.

So far this week theres been:

ALOT of dizzy.

ALOT of headachey

A SMIDGE of cramping.

A CLUSTER FUCK of menstrual starting and stopping … Wtf is that about?

A FUCKLOAD of anxiety.

Topped off with a huge over serving of PANIC FUCKS … like 1 – 2 per day.

As disassociated as I am, I was still attempting to discern the difference between menopause, menstruation, being a biological fucking woman, stress, pts(d), ‘normal’ anxiety and panic fuck.

Then in amongst it all somewhere I did the ‘Fuck It’, it’s all fucked, lets just medicate that shit and get on with it … Then thought better of it … side effects and all … and just sedated my ass for the night, got a good sleep and am thinking slightly clearer today.

It’s Menopause Bitch.

It’s fucking pts(d) Bitch.

It just is what it is.

If you fucking die from it, so be it. But chances are (going from your history to date), you won’t die from it: it’ll linger on for quite a while longer and torture the shit out of you.

Then you’ll get up. Dust said shit off. Flip the bird at it and at all biological Men for just being Men … And go terrorise something or someone else :)

 


kpm ©


 

so heres the unfold of the unfold

Wait, what?

Yep you heard right … it’s like a double unfold … or an unfold within an unfold … pretty tricky shit really … but it is what it is … and it’s how I do’s it …

  • anxiety has definitely increased
  • why?
  • who the fuck knows!
  • literally!
  • but it has increased, and that is aside from the menopausal fuck
  • how do you know though?
  • cos i’m fucking clever, thats how.
  • the menopausal fuck comes with some serious hormonal tell tale signs
  • e.g.
  • a beard.
  • crying for stupid ass reasons – well stupid for Me anyways.
  • cramps.
  • fucking hot flushing flushes.
  • and anxiety is:
  • fear.
  • and all that leads to fear.
  • fear in it’s intenseness leads too:
  • panic fuck.
  • panic fuck leads to more drugs.
  • so to de-crease the anxiety, what shalt I do-est?
  • Not stress.
  • Not stress.
  • Not stress.
  • but I didn’t think I was stressing?
  • Really? Cos thats not what your dreams are telling yah …
  • oh, yeah thats right.
  • Kick ass, sweaty night mares.
  • They’ve joined in the party again.
  • Not that they actually went anyway.
  • but they had subsided to just annoying intense or busy dreams.
  • But the new round are leaving Me …
  • Breathless.
  • Hence, stress.
  • Fuck Me.
  • So what is all that about?
  • Control.
  • Being controlled.
  • Being out of control.
  • Being suffocated.
  • Not being able to move.
  • The same old same old … again.
  • Trapped under a huge weight that I can’t see.
  • Fuck Me. Again.
  • On a lighter note …
  • we definitely will be out of a house, again, in a couple months.
  • ‘Oh that was a lighter note was it’
  • Yes.
  • The lighter part is:
  • It’s not worrying Me like it did last time.
  • we may stay round here if theres a house available.
  • Or we might try another town along this coastline.
  • Or
  • we might end up some where completely different.
  • I know it won’t be in a city though.
  • I don’t like those places anymore.
  • They’re full of unnecessary shit.
  • Like an over be-dazzled t-shirt.
  • Nope. Not going there.
  • I’d rather live in a tent on the side of the road.
  • Anyway.
  • Big deep breaths.
  • Thou shalt not sweat this shit.
  • Thou shalt not stress.
  • Because thou-est is over being an anxiety ridden fucktard!

kpm ©


 

fuck ups

have you ever seen

the escalation of

fuck ups

at work?

how they roll

one into another

like a giant snow ball?

fyi

don’t take your eye off the ball


kpm ©


 

thank the fems

feels like a

non-bra

wearing

free the boobies

kinda

day

:)


kpm ©


 

the hormones.

Captains Log –

feels like me uterus is crawling out through my ass.

an interesting feeling.

“uncomfortable”

doesn’t quite encapsulate


kpm ©


 

Image

still unfucking thyself.

Also the ‘new normal’: however, this one I’m finding a little harder to embrace.

While being all social and shit is awesome and I absolutely loved hanging out with my girls with zero anxiety and zero ‘fuck this shit …’ …. I am now paying the price for that. I’ve shat out my insides about half a dozen times, my stomach is nauseous as fuck, my feng shui is spinning faster than my fan and I am flat on my back staring at the ceiling and trying to be all positive and mindful and shit about how it’s pristine and white …

“but the seams of the roofing aren’t in alignment with the light fixture … and who the fuck would do that … I bet it was a man that designed that shit … I’d definitely do minimalism a whole lot better … I wonder if I should study design instead of fucking Criminology … fuck it all … ”

Yeah, so thats Me.

Not exactly the ‘mindful’ I was after, but that is also the ‘new normal’ for Me.

I guess this ‘finding myself’ aka unfucking myself – and finding my new groove is going to be a little messy.

Worth it?

I’ll tell you tomorrow.

<3


kpm ©


 

because i have no poem; not really: re hormones

unless its got to do with

my overheating personage,

I don’t really give a shit

about making up lovely little

heart felt poems.

Oh, and unless there is

a solution,

to the massive overheating

which I’m pretty sure I could

fry a fucken egg on;

I don’t give a shit

about poetry right now.


kpm ©


 

reconciling the hormones as best as i fucking can …

First there was calm.

Then there was coffee.

Then there was more calm.

The birds tweeted.

And then there was a lurch.

My heart started to pound.

Not at the picturesque scene before Me.

But a lurch deep within.

And as it quickened,

The sweat started to form,

From armpits to groin.

From places I didn’t even know existed.

That My Friends

Is the hot flush prelude.

The rest is messy history.

Arrgghhh.


kpm ©


 

a poem?

who?

when?

why?

and

wtf?


kpm ©


 

the.hormones.

Alright, all jokes aside …

This is like one of those rollercoasters (which I have avoided for most of my life!) that just won’t quit!

It’s like 1,000 shades of emotion all in the space of an hour … with 5  minutes rest .. and then right back to the beginning again!!

Fuuuuck!


kpm ©


 

Image

hormones & cookies.

So, just because the hormones be thinking its a good idea to bake and eat half a plate of chocolate chip cookies, doesn’t mean that it’s an ‘actual’ good idea *she says to herself whilst itching like fuckery and downing a couple antihistamines*.

Beginning to see that this hormone thing is like an alternate evil personality thats sitting on my shoulder, so to speak, just barking out orders that seem reasonably plausible at the time.

Duly noted!


kpm ©


 

note:

note to self:

get some of those noise cancelling ear muff headphone thingys.

NOW.


kpm ©


 

hormones are …

  • uterus is pulsating
  • boobs feel like they’re gonna fall off (pretty sure they won’t though)
  • not cool – as in hot as fuck
  • rolling, rolling, rolling
  • eek

kpm ©


 

off-thought

Why

do

you

find

Me

offensive

?

no wait,

don’t answer that:

i forgot:

i don’t care.


kpm ©