& on the 3rd day .. they sat the fuck down

they actually were more concerned with not upsetting him rather than not upsetting me.

.

& now, it’s amusing that I’m anxious & afraid . 

still more interested in getting their own gratification in whatever form than listening to what I have I survived, become, endured, .. you just want the comfortable parts.

.

well i’m all out of that shit sir.


kpm©


 

mov.ing.

you grieve.

grieve some more.

take notes.

let it go.

& then move the fuck on.

start by doing right by you.

that’s it.

.

.

.

.

#life #hacks

& #BS


kpm©


 

6th thought for the day.

10 years of alone in my misery & learning.

what the fuck you think I been doing mate.

yep, figuring out my own shit & how to live with it.

to live.

& now you wanna have prayer circles & speak to the dead.

now you want to decolonise and admit how terrified you are.

now.

after all the bs.

hey .. it’s emotionally fucking draining.

& is this what they call “emotional labour” ??

for me,

it’s a new phase of radical self care as I watch those who gonna implode, implode.

cos, like i says :

i’m.done.explaining.myself.


kpm©


 

Image

the ol TW ..

& here’s why.
.
there are no prior warnings to being sexually assaulted as a child.
so it is with the same grace that is shown them, that I afford a nil TW with regards to CSA.
.
we’ve become another gen & legacy that closes our eyes & ears to anything that makes us uncomfortable. & when we tooooo uncomfortable, we blame the info or the messenger of said info, for that discomfort, instead of examining the reasons of & for the info.
.
them days are tired.
.
for a fuller extensive version of the one & only TW I’ve ever given, go to the link in the bio.
.
.
✊🏾
🙅🏾‍♀️
.
#kpm©


kpm©


 

Image

.. .. ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘& where u been for the last decade ..’
.
.
.
ewwwww, bitch please.
.
.
.
judge not lest u wana be motherfuckin judged_ith yoself.
.
.
.
#dontknowifyoudontwanttoknow
#dontknowifyoudontask
.
.
#kpm©


*edit :

To expand ..
A recent conversation with an ‘out of touch friend’, had bold yet stenchy lil undertones .. fragrance was, fear with a large dolop of judgement.
I understood the fear.
.
But dude.
I been doing my work.
I been doing my healing.
& I don’t owe you shit.
If you’d wanted to know you would’ve asked, years ago.
But you weren’t interested then and youre not interested now.
You just want me to make you feel better about yo’self.
Guess what?
It don’t work that way!

.

we could write a thesis on this shit .. but it tiring af.

.


kpm©


 

Image

decol ..

I realised quite a few years ago, ( as another part of this whole decolonising hikoi ) that all the info I was being ‘fed’, was white. that’s just the way it is, or so I was told.
so I decided to remedy that by filtering out all white white resources .. which means, I don’t do white news, or white movies, or white ‘scientific’ facts, or white medical facts .. my first port of call is ancestors, brown / indigenous & black. white is an after thought.
easy peasy you might think?
but No.
it took about a year, after filtering out the other, to build up decent go-to resources of the BIPOC persuasion.
lately, as I’ve watched our world implode, I’ve realised that Most, not all, but most peeps, even my own, still refer to the white methodologies, resources, references & advice first .. & everything else .. maybe .. as an after thought.
you want to understand? like, really? change who & what you listen too.
it won’t take you long from there, to see & understand the disparity. feel & understand the struggle & the tenacity of survival. watch & witness the resilience & brilliance of thriving.
you can’t fuck with that.
.
.
.
Ps, the whitest resource I own is FB 😂 JS .. & that is coming to a close real soon ✊🏾
.
.
.
#decolonise
#decoloniseyourmind
#decoloniseyourresources
#decoloniseyourtime
.
.
#kpm©
.
(I don’t own & can’t take credit for the picture)


kpm©


 

psa & self determination

i was raised amongst WW2 veteran whanau, fresh from war & the depression sporting undiagnosed ptsd, who voted social credit & believed the only way to change society was through government. 

i was also raised in a pentecostal christian environment whose theories included revelations & the mark of the beast, the return of christ, a white saviour, racism noting Maori & indigenous peoples being inferior, homophobia & white men being superior.

i was also raised amongst neo-nazism. whereby white supremacist theories hailed hitler as a saviour, jews as evil, & cleansing the population as imperative to the survival of the aryan nation. 

i believe in self determination as did my tipuna.

.

always ask questions.

always ask the ancestors.

always follow your instincts.

breathe & remain calm af.


kpm©


 

another shift ..

2-3 aug 2020.

this isn’t pleasant .. thats my version of a trigger warning i spose. & i’ve dictated it in very short unedited terms.

it is what it is :


dream.

had period, bleeding heavy.

was in pjs, got up to go to bathroom to get a pad.

felt ‘presence’, not seen physical person though – biggish presence – hurried. threatening. looming presence.

felt behind / to side of me first.

knew it was coming, turned head to see no one.

grabbed my arms.

my pants started to come down and blood was dripping.

i was turning my head to see where i was being moved / directed too.

bedroom.

not sure whose.

bed – pushed forcefully down.

they were quiet but the presence was ‘strong’.

they’d pinned my arms.

their weight was heavy on me & i couldn’t move.

i knew there were people around.

the thought occurred to me that i didn’t want to disturb the other people but decided it was my only chance to get this thing away.

as they lifted their arms to rip my top open which they did, and they grabbed both breasts in their hands forcefully, i felt scared.

with that feeling i opened my mouth and throat to scream.

while they were distracted.

the scream started off small and i forced it to be bigger and bigger and louder.

enough to scare the presence.

enough to wake me up.

i woke up semi screaming yelling.

frozen-ish ..

but calm & pleased.

its a shift.

.

no-one heard me. noone woke up.

.

.


kpm©


 

reckonings

yesterday i had a conversation. 

pause.

that conversation confirmed what i knew to be true.

pause.

.

there aren’t too many people that i either love or trust. & am im fine with that now. i no longer buy into the theory that i need to love & light on everybody & that im somehow missing out because i dont trust.

trust is earned. its not a right. its also not a commodity. it also means that if i dont ‘trust’ you per se, that i won’t not fuck with you. we can have an exchange for whatever purposes, that dont require me to completely trust, or love you, for that matter.

.

so, this conversation centred around someone i love, some i trust. 

.

it turns out their narrative for me is a lot different when they talk to someone else.

i had suspected as much but like i said, i can still fuck with someone and not trust them completely.

.

turns out their narrative however, pretty much discounted my experience of child sexual assault by …

  1. amplifying those involved on the peripherals
  2. stating that they weren’t there so they dont know
  3. that because they are male they also dont know because that sort of thing cant happen to them
  4. disregarding / discounting the source of the information – me
  5. quoting the adage of leaving the past in the past.

im still processing.

i think im hurt.

maybe more disappointed.

but not unrealistically so, i think i was just hopeful.

deep realisation that they probably will never get it and dont want to.

that ‘the feeling’ of not being welcome or accepted or believed, is alive and fucken well.

today it hurts.

over the last week ive known there was something coming .. a change, a shift. that the narrative of the family of origin had written for me, actually benefited them, not me. for them to hear me would require they do some work on themselves. deep work.

instead they are rolling with the playwright that says our family were hard working good folks who paid their dues and thats it.

nowhere in there is there accountability mentioned for the pedo fuck or the myriad of twisted ways he fucked me up. neither is there any mention of the myriad of ingenious ways i survived & spent countless years undoing his fuckery so my kids would never have to experience that kind of indignity.

with the voiceover of a few empty words, they discounted the trauma & violation, the survival & management, the growth & enlightenment. 

.

i’ll sit with it.

but it won’t consume me.

its done that for too many years.


kpm©


 

who?

i think i was about 8 or 9 when i knew who eva braun was.

i also thought everyone else knew that too. that this was a semi normal conversation piece for the meal table.

.

it wasnt.


kpm©


 

agro-what

.

im not sure when agrophobia started .. when i became terrified of leaving the house and being out in the open like a sitting duck.

i know it was a long time before covid .. along time before i got older .. a long long long ass time.

guess what.

i’m over it.


kpm©


 

the past

i met my big girls father when i was about 12. he was 13. he was my first ‘boyfriend’, such as ‘it’ was. the ‘relationship’ involved long silent phone calls, an ‘eye’ acknowledgement occasionally, a possible wave & more than anything, the title of being someones girlfriend & vice versa.

that ‘relationship’ didn’t last long of course. 

we ‘met’ again when i was about 14 or 15. the relationship i entered into with him wasnt with deep reflection or thought on my part, it was a knee jerk reaction to all that i was, all i wanted to get away from, all that i thought would ‘fix’ & remedy what i needed, which was, in a nutshell, protection.

what i actually entered into was a childish relationship, a violent relationship & a series of events that would add to and change the course of who i was, forever.

our time together was violent. drunken. full of angst & unknowns. poverty. disempowerment. dishonouring. anguish.

out of all of that came our beautiful little baby girl.

i had just turned 16 when she was born. still a baby myself, upon reflection.

.

today her fathers mother, her grandmother, died.

.

when she rang to let me know, i felt nothing. no sympathy. no angst. no sorrow. no nothing.

.

as we talked more there was a stirring in my gut that has only just started to dissipate. sort of.

.

it was a time in my life that i walked away from. i chose to leave the relationship as it became more violent. but leaving, as such, was harder than i had anticipated.

.

all that memory came galloping to the from of my brain & my feels today. & i wasnt prepared for it.

seems to be the way shits working out with me at the moment.

.

i’ve spent a few hours wading through things i had purposefully forgotten. partially because at the time, there was no other way to deal with it. my safety, my girls safety, were more paramount than  any other ‘feeling’ i may have had.

.

remembering that i was 16 at the time.

.

how does a 16 year old, in all reality, deal with this in a manner that is ‘appropriate’?

.

well i did.

even with everything else (sexual assault aftermath & continued hostilities) going on, i knew i had to keep my girl safe.

.

i realised today, that at the time of beatings, bottles flying, walls and windows being broken, car crashes, no food, no means of escape .. i was beyond petrified. 

.

again.

.

but being petrified propelled me to change shit. to get away by any means necessary.

.

and i did.

.

today i felt all that again. and im still reeling but am finding a different kind of ground or firm footing for myself. 

.

i’m not that scared child. that scared young mother. that person. that person who experienced all that physical violence. 

i’m grown.

i more than survived it.

i had one beautiful friend who would check on me & i am eternally grateful for him.

.

i’m all grown up even though i thought i was grown then, that was a forced grown. a child that was sexually assaulted & tortured, who grew up trying to escape. & that continued throughout my life and relationships. whether i chose willingly or unconsciously, ive been trying to escape all my life.

.

im tired.

& rightly so.

i survived.

& rightly so.

im good like that.

.

this part of my life needs a proper burial i decided.

i need to face it dead in its eye. deal & let it go.

.

thing is, this letting go thing, is a new layer. its different. deeper.

i know its good, it just doesnt feel good. 

.

it hurts i think.

.

it hurts that my girl has to deal with the new layers what i wanted to protect her from. as an adult she has chosen to relate to this family. and i admire the fuck out of her for it.

it just hurts to watch it all unfold.

.

sucks ass actually.

.

.

(this is from a couple weeks ago .. bit delayed .. & still lots going on with this shizz .. im here .. im doing it ;) )


kpm©


 

its progress.

i threw my broken finger nail onto the grass ..

.

i know, it sounds weird af. but there is an explanation & a shift.

i want to remember this.

.

when i was little, & in the throws of being sexually assaulted *insert eye ball roll*, there was a story i was told, quite a few times, if i remember rightly.

fuck face would talk about satanism & nazism A Lot. in amongst all his trash talk (which i didn’t know was trash talk then), he talked about how satanists would gather up the hair or fingernails of people they wanted to curse. they’d use those items to do a bit of a funky blood soaked ritual & tadah, curse laid.

now i didn’t know that this wasnt satanism. i also believed his bullshit because everything he said & did was to my detriment so it was kinda better to be on the safe side & roll with the BS he spouted. & obviously, there was no google then. & the climate of my ‘christian’ upbringing supported his line of twoodle.

anyways .. enter adulthood & i started to learn better.

i figured out, fuck face had borrowed from his limited understanding of voodoo *insert another big ass eye ball roll*, & laced it with his satanist slash nazi BS ..

why? cos it sounded good & it terrified everyone, especially me.

guess what .. a terrified person / child is a lot more pliable than an assertive confident one.

anyways .. even though i understood all this as an adult, i ‘d still burn my fingernails and toenails, & hair for that matter, after they’d been cut. i’ve been doing it for years without giving it much thought. culturally, we use to bury them ; as in, so they are returned to the earth. not many peeps do that anymore .. but yeah.

but as this grown ass adult, here i was, still, all these years later, just doing the cautious thing, even though my ‘better judgement’ knew it to be BS.

so the other day, after i’d broken a nail,  i tracked it down & proceeded to throw it into the fire .. & then i stopped, & waited.

standing there like a dufus, i recounted the countless freakish moments of fear that led me to this pointless fingernail burning ritual.

& realised that every time i do it, i give it life.

its BS, & i give it life because it had become a cautious & necessary part of my young existence .. but i realised, i wasnt little anymore, i had a choice based on fact, not horrific fantasy.

i ended up crying.

holding on to that bloody fingernail & crying my eyeballs out.

then i stopped.

then i got overwhelmed with anger.

then ..

i threw that bitch out on to our lawn.

funny thing .. i felt like my whole internal being, literally shifted.

it took a couple hours to process .. & then i went & looked for the fingernail lol ffs.

& when i couldn’t find it, then i let it go.

.

i think theres gonna be quite a few moments like this .. coming and going .. as i figure out the ‘new me’ that wants to live without all that fuckery attached to my throat.

fuck him.

fuck his fucked up voodoo satanist BS stories.

fuck his nazi BS.

completely & utterly, fuck that cunt!

this is #mystory now!


kpm©


 

mixes

dont get it twisted,

i was despised by my own ‘kind’ too.

the slap back of ‘mixed’ personhood.

they shunned harder than the white girls did.

stuck in between the 2 worlds.

is the cruel irony.


kpm©


 

just some more thoughts on deep ass shit ..

covid? sure thing .. let it ride was my thing. & sure, the global reactions fucked me off, but hey .. let it ride.

& it did, & here we are in Level 1 .. better off? fuck knows.

.

& now the world is imploding, again. but this time its seeping what has been brewing there for eons.

the reactions, not the death, are overwhelming. the ignorance is mind boggling but not surprising.

.

today i was reminded that for me, racism has been juxtaposed with assault. the covert & overt acts are seedy & similar. the reactions are the also similar. the ignorance is also similar.

paralleling these 2 atrocities have always helped me understand the both.

but here & now, this is about the one. its about me & its not. its about all of us & its not.

to feel the black world screaming at its oppressors is a mighty thing to witness. its also painful af.


kpm©


 

ruminating ..

i cut shit off.

its how i reframe or reorder shit.

its also a form of regaining control of a situation i feel out of control about.

cos yes, most of my earlier years & formative years, have been a reaction or just living to survive.

all of that has brought me to this place in time.

& i find myself wondering if cutting shit off or out, is productive or counterproductive? have i exceeded my limit?

what happens when the toxicity is leaking out all over the place & you cant quite figure out if its You or Them or Something In Between?

.

You stop & take a deep ass breathe?!

.

and thats where im at.


kpm©


 

reiterating the basics ..

this time i’ve refused to do it.

.

those that have been watching / listening me on my waka for sometime, will know the shit that pisses me, that fills me, that recharges me .. the process that i do to get me from one place to another .. practically & spiritually. most of the time, they go hand in hand.

this time is no different.

the beginning of the gregorian year, saw me make a decision to take on ACC in a new way .. with a lawyer.

they’re tiring cunts, for real. & i knew i was tired. tired of fighting, repeating, adjusting & re-doing.

my beef with them has been for the basics & ongoing for nearly a decade in one way or another.

the review for their shit ass decision to decline my shit was due in march 2020. prior to that i employed the lawyer.

an affidavit was written up, documenting the filth i endured from 3 – 18 years of age, because this was the timeframe that was ‘up for review’.

then i went to see a shrink .. yep another one .. for an ‘unbiased’ opinion .. meaning, it wasnt an ACC shrink.

with i’s dotted & t’s crossed, we were ready for review.

in the meantime the lawyer was also in discussions about ‘outcome’.

Then NZ, in response to the covid situation, went into full lockdown for nearly 6 weeks.

during that time ACC decided to reverse their initial decision.

yup.

so technically it was a win.

right?

that was in march.

we are now in june.

the lawyer is off the books so to speak because their is no review to pursue.

i have heard from ACC twice.

guess what?

they’re going back to the drawing board, i’m filling in more consent forms so they can ‘gather pertinent information’.

another words, i get to wait .. again.

without answers. without the basics.

this is the baseline for Me.

.

then add to that, the covid situation, which hasn’t gone away btw, its just been down graded. *eye ball roll* yes, there are folks that have lost their businesses, their livelihoods .. theres a tonne of information seeping out about how many lost their lives, were victims of prolonged domestic violence .. right over to the laws that have been adjusted so the police can now enter out homes without warrant if it is suspected that none is jepodising the ‘covid rules’ .. what are those exactly? well im not sure anyone actually knows any more.

& then, to top that off, our police have recently been armed.

lawdy lawd.

let me leave that one there.

.

we are now in june 2020.

& there is a revolution / uprising happening.

it is long overdue.

but its price is high.

the lives that have been lost along the way .. the life that was brutally taken & filmed for all to see .. has become the catalyst for ‘change’.

i am fully down with the change that is happening.

im not down with the cost that its come at, when all ‘they’ had to do, was listen to what black people had been saying / protesting / screaming, for YEARS. hundreds of YEARS.

.

for me, my soul grieves.

not morbidly.

it just grieves. i dont know how else to frame it up.

i think anyone of colour can feel that.

.

& then theres the fuckery that follows.

.

peeps be ‘waking up’ slowly & painfully .. & honestly, i cant watch.

.

i am tired of waiting.

& that is just me, on this side of the world, with all of my own self fish shit thats happening & my own issues .. i am tired.

i have empathy. but i can not know what it truely means to ‘be that’ feels. not like this.

i so i stand in solidarity … completely & totally.

i watch & wait.

support where i can.

share what i can.

.

this is a time of complete & entire change.

& like i said, it is long overdue.

.

im kinda cringing to see what happens next. i’ve lost friends during this time, not that i had a lot to begin with lol. but those i had thought were pretty good on the racism front .. turns out, were really good at covering it up.

my decision to cut them off wasnt hard.

i dont grieve for that loss.

at all.

its all way overdue.

.


kpm©


 

what happens after ..

when you done?

like done, done?

when you’ve exhausted your resources, positivity, focus .. energy?


kpm©


 

Image

no time for BS ..

with everything thats happening in the world, the feels are unreal .. i haven’t managed to collate / narrate, whatever, what i want to say just yet ..

but this will suffice for now ..

we’re a tonne of days down the track from this announcement, & ive spent many days cleaning out the platforms i use, the businesses i utilise, the people i associate with.

WP will be getting the same treatment.

#BLM completely!!

there is no middle ground on this.


 

theres plenty ..

ever met one of them ‘please fuck up, you’re ruining my dillusion’ peeps?


kpm©