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vulnerable.

is the current status.

not a favourite thing of mine; of anyones really, if i had to think hard about it. but when one is feeling vulnerable, what do they do?

my old go-to, is numb.

numb can come in a variety of packages, usually labelled “don’t take with alcohol” … but when you’re trying to be more than just numb, ‘feeling that shit’ takes a bit of getting used too.

i’m trying to breathe deep. i’m listening & semi-watching d’angelo’s 2015 live jazz festival routine. it’s all kinda working … but not as fast as drugs do.

why the vulnerability?

we went and viewed a house this morning. it’s lovely. and now i’m waiting to see whether we apply for it or not.

what’s the problem?

simplified: it’s not my decision.

which, in a nut-shell, means i am hanging around waiting for someone else to decide my ‘fate’, again.

this is not a new phenomenon. it’s my life post diagnosis & post losing my income. technically speaking, i should be homeless. but i have a partner. a partner who has an income. which, is more than some people have.

but i don’t have any say in the finances, which is new for me. i also don’t spend any money. other than my breakfast cereal and tampons, i don’t ask for anything else. maybe its pride, maybe its cos i don’t want to be a burden, maybe its because i can’t stretch my brain that far. whatever it is, this is the way it is.

so when we have big ‘changes’ come up, i feel like i am sitting in a small dingy with no available oars, waiting for the ‘oar – owner’ to put the dam things in the water and paddle.

i can advise. i can suggest. i can even scream. but at the end of the day, they’re not my oars, i am a ‘guest’ in the dingy & where the fuck else am i supposed to go?

this is why i’ve been pushing so hard (well sort of) to get my pending income sorted. again, its up to someone else.

i’ve learnt over the years that just because someone else has seeming control of my environment, does not mean they have complete control over me. i could decide to be homeless. huh.  that has a nice ring to it ay : homeless by choice!

but instead i remain here, trying to cohabitate with someone who has completely different ideas and ways of being than i do. someone who has resources at their disposal and chooses to do some pretty outrageous shit with said resources.

anyway, i don’t like feeling vulnerable & i’m going to have to work on my state of mind before it eats me up. for now though …

well, for now, i wait.


photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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movement of war

standing at the pinnacle

Tawhirimatea

blowing through her bones

tipuna to the left

the living to the right

Tangaroa below

Papatuanuku under foot

Ranginui shining from above

in her hand

a taiaha

from the tipuna

a staff, weapon, of strength

and she stands

not wavering

sure footed

and solid

head tilted slightly

to listen

to absorb

ready to move

to reclaim

and lay waste

ready to scream

the war cry

haka

of old

to enter into the new


kpm©


#throwback Oct 24, 2015 @ 12:32


 

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unfucking thyself 101.126

Karakia:

Atua

Tukua

Homai to Aroha

Ae.

126.

i actually thought about dieting & exercise the other day. mainly for the next years goals, cos I’m a fat fucker now; well fatter than i have ever been …

and just as i was thinking about googling diet types, i thought … fuck it, i aint doing this body shaming bullshit. it’s too fucking exhausting! i might be a fat fucker now, but thats ok. it’s better than being the underweight fucker who threw up everything she ate!

so that solves that goal. instead of dieting, i’m going to work on accepting my body for all that it is – like it is.

cos guess what – you only get one of these things& once it’s done, it’s done. i think i’d rather spend time appreciating it that killing it slowly.


photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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is it just me …

or are there white people everywhere?

on every channel i switch too?

on every movie i pick to watch?

they’re every fucking where.

so guess what …

i decided i aint watching anything now that isn’t At Least a 50/50 split of white & POC.

why?

cos i’m sick of seeing peeps that i don’t look like.

i want my mokos to see they are not the minority here.

#JS



photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

reconciling the hormones #84

it feels like my uterus is making its way up my spine, then

decides against that,

turns round & heads back toward my asshole.

just to linger there, pulsating,

& torturing my insides with contraction like pains.

great.

i was looking forward to this bastard showing up.


not.


kpm©


 

humble?

apparently,

i should show abit more ‘humble-ness’:

says the cunt who steals ideas

that aint his own.

so fuck that & fuck him.

don’t dim my motherfucking light!


kpm©


 

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art installation: phase 1, complete-ish

installation is semi-complete …

and i did fucking awesome i must say.

i did new faces and smells and spaces and sounds.

i did negotiations and staircases and heights – eeeekkkk.

i pretty proud of me right now.

and i’m happily fucking tired.


photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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dinner time?

did i tell yah, we had dinner at my beach?

and it was cloudy A.F?

just the way i like it?

had bacon & eggs btw,

i know, i know.


photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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made it! 2017.

the year of the father fuckery.

thats all i clearly remember about 2017.

oh, and the exhibition.

fuck i painted my father issues out and pumped out like 15 pieces of art for that exhibition. it was awesome … painful but awesome.

art gives me clarity. not like mental clarity … but emotional clarity.

i’m not big on emotions and for some reason art does the explaining that i can’t do. and i was hugely fucking grateful for it throughout the fathers fuckery.

it’s not nice realising you aren’t wanted. i don’t mean loved … i mean wanted.

when you want something, you get it … buy it .. whatever.

when you don’t care for it, you’ll pass it by.

and thats what i realised about my father and me. i was not wanted. that was quite clear. his ‘love’ came with a shitload of conditions and i couldn’t and wouldn’t live up to them. i was just finding my groove and there was no way that fucker was going to fuck it up.

in saying that though .. it hurt like fuck!

through my art, i got to express all of the shit i felt. later, i was able to analyse it and let it go. but that took up most of the fucking year … but it got done.

the other huge highlight for 2017 was the birth of moko #8 :) she is a beauty … it’d be nice to see more of her but thats my partners department at the moment.

what else …

i made goals for 2018 … thats right … and i’m slowly making my way through them all.

this was the first time in a fucking long ass time that i’d actually set proper real life, big girl goals lol.

it was a fucked year re anxiety and the drugs got thrown back quite abit. i’m still trying to down grade the intact … but am getting there … slowly but surely.

and …

i think thats about it for 2017. sounds fucking boring actually lol. but i guess boring is pretty good at this stage of the game.

roll on the end of 2018 and i’ll do a recap for that.

love and light peoples.