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Transsexuals, Sex Reassignment Surgeries & Prostitution In Barcelona — Edge of Humanity Magazine

Photographer Paola de Grenet is the Edge of Humanity Magazine contributor of this social documentary photography. From her project ‘Life as a Transsexual‘. To see Paola’s body of work click on any image. Barcelona is a liberal city with a vast community of gays, travesties and transsexuals. It is a […]

via Transsexuals, Sex Reassignment Surgeries & Prostitution In Barcelona — Edge of Humanity Magazine

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oh yeah …

I Like My Friends.

They’re Gangstah 🙂

‘Me’

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~ Soren Kierkegaard ~

Life can only be understood backwards;

but it must be lived forwards.

 ~ Soren Kierkegaard ~

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mauri of me #8

Moko #1 will be 9 this year. What a little man he is 🙂

He’s taught Me so much about being a child … being who we are …

He rocks the boat most days and has questions for miles! And both of those things, I absolutely love about him. He has the questions that no-one asks, because its ‘improper’ to do so; he’s the one who is somehow able to put things into questions when we can’t quite figure out what the question is, that needs to be asked … he’s the one that challenges everything that would appear to be right or normal, and stretches the imagination and the perception … i.e.: “who made god then???” … he’s 9 🙂

I was there at his birth … and remember well the overwhelming feeling of becoming a grandmother … and the sheer joy that also came with becoming a grandmother.

And I love being a grandmother 🙂

He has big brown eyes and a beautiful smile. I love his nature and his way; his talents and character.

He is part of Me. I am part of Him.

And I absolutely love him to bits xoxox

another one bites the dust

I wonder some days, if I’m hitting that age that my Nan used to talk about … where those that you’ve known throughout your ‘energetic’ years, start to drop off. Somehow in my granddaughter brain though, I thought that was like, 70 or 80 years of age. Not that I was paying much attention I guess.

So, I’m nearly 45 – half of 90, so I figure (calculating my gene pool etc), I’m just over half way there 😉 In which case, finding out another peep has been found swinging by the neck, is not really surprising.

Maybe?

I get that taking ones own life seems like a shit deal. I guess, I don’t view it that way.

Don’t get me wrong; I grieve … I feel slightly ripped and somewhat annoyed … mainly annoyed that yet again, I find myself staring down the mysteries of life and death and wondering; WT actual F?? This time the departed leaves behind 5 children and a wife and no ‘this is why i did it’ … which is also pretty ‘normal’.

So is the act of hara-kiri an act of cowardice? Of self-pity maybe? Of ill-health? A tip of the mental health balance? Or is it really the ultimate act of control over ones own destiny … demise?

I’m going with the latter.

We all die at some point and to think otherwise is just over zealous positive thinking. It’s a given. We don’t live in these vessels for ever. I believe ‘we’, as in our mauri / our spirits, live on, always … that we are forever in the minds and hearts of those we love … and those we pissed off 😉 And that belief sort of helps me let go of the ‘person’ we knew here. ‘Cos theres so much more to people than what we can physically see isn’t there … and that’s the bit I usually can see without them saying a word.

So when they leave this world I believe they linger … their essence and our memories of them, live on.

I hope this newest statistic isn’t remembered as a statistic … I know their family doesn’t view them that way. I hope when we speak of them, their ending isn’t all that is spoken of.

For all of the family …

Tehei Mauri Ora.

 

old and worn and waiting…1989

Someone tried commenting on this post today (spam-a-lammed!), so it showed up in my feed again.
So I re-read it …
holy fuck …
I really am surprised sometimes, that I am still here 😉

meptsdandallthefuckedupshitinbetween

I had never seen a sunrise until I spent the two months in hospital prior to having my baby girl. And because I hardly ever slept, I was able to witness my first sunrise from the top storey window of the hospital. It was beautiful. I had a lovely nurse who spent hours talking with me throughout the night. I didn’t really notice then, how nice she really was. As always, I just believed she was doing nothing more than her job.

Thankyou nice nurse lady. Thankyou for your letters, your conversations and especially your kindness 🙂

I was a good Mum. For someone so young, it came quite naturally. She was my everything. And all I wanted to do was protect her and love her and give her the very best. Of me and what the world had to offer.

Hindsight: That’s a hard thing to do when you…

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the start of a new generation…2008

Interesting re-reading these … I’d pretty much forgotten, again, the shitfest that was my life by this stage … and I’d forgotten that it had actually started way earlier than what I’ve been blabbering on about … I usually start with … ‘back in 2010’ … but No, it was 2008, if not earlier. I wish someone had’ve clicked to the pts(d) thing … I wish I had.
I am pleased to note that I have always been stubborn and will eventually take matters into my own hands … and these days, its sooner rather than later!
And my beautiful Moko … that right there was the start of something fan-fucking-tastic! 3 Mokos later and life would not be the same without them!
I am pleased I am here. I really do need to remember this more.

meptsdandallthefuckedupshitinbetween

We had moved into a new place…me, my girl and my partner. He had two daughters…one the same age as my little girl and another who is a couple of years younger. We had been trying to do the ‘blended’ families thing…separately, and it was proving to be slightly challenging. His younger girl lived with her mother during the week and came to us on the weekends. Boy we had some clashes in those early days…lots and lots of clashes. His older girl didn’t have much to do with him…that was her families choice…and it cut him up most of the time.

Me and my girl were used to each other, and our way of being. He was used to his. And as I’ve said before, we are both chalk and cheese…actually more like night and day! His version of parenting was…yes, yes and yes…you can have and do whatever…

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365 reasons to smile ~ 268.

268. Story of my life LOL

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long gone

none of it lasts long

.

before you know it

it’s all gone

long gone

.

love

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today

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you

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may

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not

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have

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tomorrow

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suicide, withdrawl and a proposal…2013

It’s been a year since writing this post and 3 years since the events … and already, I had forgotten most of these ‘feelings’. I have never forgotten about “c” taking his life and we are coming up on 4 years now … but I’d forgotten what it did to us … the good and bad.
I’d forgotten about all the other meds and coming off. I kind of scooted over it in this … but it was hellish! Painful and fucking horrible! Yes, the sleeping meds were my saviours at this stage, but all that other shit, and I can’t even remember half of them now … anti depressants / anti nausea / anti vertigo / anti psychotics / more anti depressant shit and a shitload of pain meds … all for an undiagnosed condition! Never again!
And then my moko editions 🙂 Well, thats the highlight … ohhh and the start of beach home hunting xoxo

meptsdandallthefuckedupshitinbetween

I looked for another counsellor, which took about 6 months to find, by which stage I was worse…panic wise. I was avoiding everything and anything that increased my heart rate or caused any kind of disturbance, and that included time spent with the mokos, which was heart breaking. I decided to go with a Maori practitioner, hoping that the cultural thing may give me some more insight.

She pretty much said right off the bat, that what ever was going on for me, she wasn’t equipped to deal with it. I appreciated her honesty! We talked though and she suggested intermediary things I could do before I saw a psychiatrist and/or psychologist. These included meditation and mindfulness…both of which I was doing anyways…a sensory box, to help with panic attacks…so on and so forth. As things got worse she ended up visiting me at my home instead of me doing…

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