Saturday, 31 January 2015


I’ve got FUCK all to say.

I’m not building an army. I’m not trying to impress. I don’t want to stir the pot and I definitely don’t have a message to send out. I don’t need to lead. I don’t want followers. I’m not here for you. I’m not here to make the idiot doctors look like idiots, or paint a dark or dilated picture of mental illness. I’m not here to make you laugh, cry or feel any other empathic emotion. 

I’m only here because I have no where else to go.

When I was eight, my father told me:

“You’re not a person, until you hit the double digits.”

I was confused. Was that true? I had only been alive for eight years, he could have been right. What the hell did I know? But I had to ask...

“So I’m not a person until I’m 10?”

He nodded.

“Well then, what am I now?” 

“You’re just a kid.”

It all sounded very logical. He was older, bigger and louder then me, so that had to mean he was smarter. He would have the scoop on stuff like that, he’d been alive longer. So I believed him.

I knew from my insides that I was bothered by what he said. My throat got real tight, my stomach felt empty and I felt a pressure behind my eyeballs, urging me to cry.

I wasn’t going to matter for three more years? I wasn’t ok with that, but I believed him anyways. I know now my father was only kidding... or he was wrong. 
Either way it wasn’t true.
I was never "just" a kid. 

Where Here Is

In my 29 years of being a person, I’ve overheard enough conversations, whispers and phone calls, and I’ve read enough files and reports to know I’m classified as crazy. I’ve also been kicked out of enough schools, camps and friendship circles to know, I don’t fit in.

But I’ve done enough pretending to know...I don’t really give a fuck.

About three weeks ago my boyfriend asked me why his blue knapsack had turned green. 

Lui: Why is my blue bag green?

Me: It's from that episode I had where I put your clothes, knapsack and shoes in a pile, poured turmeric over it, ripped up a twenty dollar bill, and told you I didn't need you or anybody.

We laughed.
blue bag + orange turmeric = green bag

I live with a fucking doozy of a mental illness. It's a bitch, but I kick it's ass, and I have the right people around me to assist in said ass kicking. It's been a long journey but I'm here and Here is good. 

Here is at this desk, in front of a smashed up iMac, that surprisingly still works, with my knuckles in my mouth...cause that's where my knuckles go when I'm anxious, as I sit on the worst chair in the world, staring at a beautiful sunset through my busted cracked glass window.

Four years ago my windows were completely covered up, I was petrified to go outside, and I was convinced I was being followed by white cargo vans, and ghosts.

Here is good.