Mumblings of a Muddled Mind

I like to write about what matters to me and to raise awareness for mental health. I suffer from mental illness but that does not define who I am.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

A Horse, Of Course!

So, yeah..this is pretty interesting. I have attempted to make horse noises and have failed miserably. I am great at monkey noises though. Maybe some day, I will audition for a show and incorporate monkey noises into my song.

Bitch even LOOKS like a horse!

I Want An Edumacation!

I want to go to University. I do NOT want to go to University here in Ottawa. I hate Ottawa. It's not just the people here who tend to be pretentious government fucks but it's also the city itself. I just read that they are hiking the bus fare up to $3.25! Can you believe that?!

Oc Transpo has THE shittiest service in all of Canada and it's also the most expensive. Not to mention that the drivers have no problem striking over !!Christmas time!! and I know far too many people who lost their jobs as a result of said strike. I read a facebook group today that is proposing that the riders should protest this hike in fare and strike themselves.

There's one problem..Ottawans don't give a rat's ass whether they are being fucked up their own! I have seen it time and time again. People here sure like to talk about taking a stand but when it comes down to it, they are lazy and most don't even come from here to begin with. That is due to the fact that it's a mecca for government employees and thre are a lot of immigrants. I think I may want to move out to BC finally!

I am trying to convince the hubby. I have wanted to go since I was 17 and I am feeling rather selfish, so heck, I just might do it!
That would mean moving Lilli away from her dad but we can work out trading school years and summers.
It would also mean that I would move away from my family, but they didn't seem too concerned about me when I was trying to stay around for my Nanna's sake. So fuck em. My uncle just up and left, and didn't help with anything after my mom died and until my grandpa died when I was 22. He's living back here now so I think I'll just let them fend for themselves now. Who am I kidding? He's not even helping now. He's helping himself just fine though.

This feels so empowering, to make my own decision and not really worry my pretty little head off if everyone will be ok with the aftermath. You get what you give, I gave a lot, it's your turn now.

Exciting times. I don't know how many people have told me I belong in BC. When I go there, I feel at home. They also have a forensics program out there...that would be kick ass. I have looked into it and it's the best one in Canada. I think Toronto is the next option, which is out of the question.. I dislike Toronto possibly more so than I do Ottawa..LOL
Actually, I don't think it's Toronto either. All of Ontario is pretty lame.

At least Toronto has a decent transit system though. ...

Random Late Night Ramblings...

I can't sleep tonight. My cramps this month are extra painful and I can't sleep well when I am in pain. I kept waking up and moving around in bed a bunch so I thought instead of waking my poor husband up all night, I would come down here and babble.

Right now I am trying to come to terms with the fact that a lot of the people I thought were friends of mine are really nothing but old drinking/partying buddies. I'm not sure if they ever really cared for me in the first place or not. I know I was a hoot to party with, that's for sure. It seems that once I got sober, they lost interest in me.

I am also realising that I am not as interested in what some of these people are into or up to any longer. I think they are shallow and gossip mongers. There was a time where I would hang out in a certain forum and chat with a bunch of girls from around here. Most often than not, conversations would turn into a big bitch-fest about so and so and how "messed up in the head" they were, or just plain old rumours would be spread. It was pretty much like trying to fit into an elite social club in high school. I never felt the need to do that then, so why did I feel that need a few years ago? I am sure when I left that evil website and deleted some of these girls off my facebook, I became that "messed up in the head" girl. Ahh well. It's a good way to weed out the bad friends!

I think it may have been a case of the low self esteems. I used to be fairly confident, I think. I mean I had body image issues but I was pretty confident that I was worthy of being friended. Actually, I didn't give a flying fuck about most people whom I did not already know and if they liked me, bonus, if not, fuck em. That was before I turned 20 however.

I think I may also have burned some bridges by not trying to be a good friend to some. It wasn't that I didn't care, because I love my close friends and those with whom I connect really well, it was that I got lazy and/or drunk. I'm also not the biggest phone person nor was I able to take public transit for a while due to anxiety and panic issues surrounding that. I guess it sort of limited me and I was too proud to admit it before it was too late with some.

C'est la vie, I suppose!

What matters most is that I do have a select group of friends that I feel comfortable enough talking to about my problems with and really, I don't have the time to keep up appearances with all of the people I once hang out with.

I am pretty lucky to have friends who stuck with me through thick and thin.

I love you guys.


Friday, March 26, 2010


That makes me sound old, doesn't it?

I seem to have fucked up my sciatic nerve on the left side of my hip. It hurts really badly if I'm standing for a long time or sitting in a seat with raised edges. I am currently taking Percocet for it and boy oh boy do they make me loopy! I have to be really careful with these though, as I don't want to become addicted to them. I just love having an addictive personality. It makes everything I do that much harder. I have to think about things like how much is too much? Is my tolerance high already because I have done so many drugs in the past? Will this amount harm me more in the long-run, or is it worth not having to suffer from pain?

The best part of this whole situation is that it happened to me while I was shovelling the damn heavy, wet snow we had last and I was out there doing so because my hubby had a job interview and I didn't want him to mess up HIS back before he left!

It didn't start in the hip, however. I started to feel bad back pain as if I had pulled the muscles in my lower back and then went bowling the night after. My back was sore but not my hip while I was bowling. It took about a week for the hip pain to show up. Now my back feels peachy keen but I can't shake this hip problem.

I saw a nurse practitioner at my Doc's office about it and she ordered x-rays and an MRI. The x-rays were negative and I was told that it may take quite a while for this to heal and that I should be going to physiotherapy.

So far I have called about six places and none of them are covered by our public healthcare (OHIP) and I am piss-poor broke. I guess it's not in the cards for me to get the help I need right away. Or at all for that matter; it's not like money is going to magically appear on that stupid money tree we have in the living room. What a misleading name for a plant, I tell ya!

So for now, I get to be loopy.

Needless to say, this is putting a cramp in my bowling style, man. I was just starting to get back into bowling and this damn hip thing has to go and fuck with it. How am I ever going to make bowling cool again if I can't even go out and play it?!

Ahhh back to Wii bowling for me I suppose! I have mastered the "too lazy to even get off the couch" bowling moves. That's right, I am a couch potato bowler now. I am badass.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Bahh bahh Black Sheep

Am I THAT embarrassing or something? Not fun to be around?
I must be.

Excuse me while I go graze in another field so you don't have to put up with me.

Monday, March 22, 2010

This Guy is SERIOUS!!

Oh man..I think I just found the funniest shit ever.

I know what I'll be doing this summer while I learn how to drive..

I'll be going DOOM DOOM DOOM... BOOM, BOOM.

Here is his website in case you think I'm joking about him being serious. Please listen to track number 8. "God'll Make You Clap" while you are there. Your life will never be the same. :P

Click here to Cruise like Christ

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Avoiding Dad

I reckon that I am pretty much the master of avoidance. It's quite simple to do, especially if there are feelings involved. My relationship with my father is a strange one, that's for certain. He seems to want to love me to the best of his ability (it's an odd thing, his love) and I seem to want to avoid being loved and also all of the hurtful feelings that surround the man who is my father.

When I was young and living with my mother, I was not allowed to see him. It was her decision because he was a biker (BADMAN!!) and I guess he wasn't shaping up to her standards after she became impregnated with me. I have to wonder however, how she justified being with such a person if she was so opposed to having him in my life after my birth. Apparently he lived with us until I was 2 when my mom had decided she'd had enough of his biker ways. After that he was sent away and told to never try and see me.

I spent a lot of time as a child wondering who my father was and why he wasn't around. I got some very flimsy excuses from my mother but never the truth. The truth being that she had "banned" him from seeing me. I was told she didn't know where he was all the while he was living within a 1 km radius of my apartment. I recall running into him at the grocery store when I was very young, he spoke to my mother and I remember after, asking her who he was and she told me it was my father. She did more harm than good by banishing him from my life. My childhood was spent very angry and frustrated. I took a lot of tantrums and I cried a lot about the father I never had.

I felt it was my fault somehow that he didn't want to see me. I must have been a bad girl; not worth loving enough to stick around or even to try to contact me or have visits every now and then. I was just an accident. One that was not supposed to bind this man and woman together for the duration of my life. I was told that he didn't want anything to do with me and of course, I believed my mother. I would find out later, after she passed away, that this was not quite the case. Or was it?

I overheard my grandmother and my mother talking one night after they had a few drinks in them. I was over at my grandparent's house and I awoke at some point in the night after being asleep for a while to use the washroom. I could hear some arguing going on downstairs and so I eavesdropped on them, as most curious children often do. I found out a couple of things that night as I listened from the top of the stairs. I found out that I was a mistake, that I was a bastard. I also heard that he raped my mother and that's how I came to be. I heard my Nanna asking my mother if she ever planned on telling me the truth about what happened. I suppose it was to quell the beast within myself by telling me that my father was a really bad man. My mother never told me. I kept these secrets locked away in a safe place in my mind. To this day, I don't know if the rape story is true but I am a bastard. This I know all too well.

After my mother passed I became very angry with her for keeping me all to herself and not at least allowing supervised visits or something, anything! Then I tried living with him out in Alberta but that failed for reasons already stated in this blog. It wasn't until I attended a 10 day super-intensive personal retreat that I realised that it was not just my mom who was to blame.

The retreat I attended was one in which the focus is placed on your parents and the traits you either a) adopt from them or b) adopt but rebel against with in the first 12 years of your life. The mission of this organisation is to allow you to recognise these traits and free yourself from them as they are your parent's and not yours. It's objective is to stop the never-ending cycle/vicious circle that supposedly rules our lives without us being aware. Well, it worked alright. It worked too good. It opened up a whole new can of anger and sadness that I didn't want to admit existed in me.

I was sent there by my request via my grandmother as it costs a pretty penny and I could not afford the fee at the time. I was going there with the intention of finally forgiving my mother and letting go of all of the pain that surrounded her and her death. My main focus was to be on my mother. We were asked questions in a questionnaire before our arrival so they could assess and tailor your treatment as best as they could. I answered most of the ones concerning my mother but since my father was not in my life as a child I didn't think it relevant to answer all of the questions concerning him as he as he was not in my life when I was young, nor could I as I did not have the answers.

It was about half-way through the course when we started to focus on our fathers that I snapped. We were doing some cathartic work by bashing wiffle bats onto a large pillow while focusing on the negative traits. Oh it worked. It worked too well. I was bashing away at the cue cards with the traits written on them when "abandoning" came up as one of his traits. I started to bash the SHIT out of that thing. I mean, I was having a blast hitting things and all and when I was doing the ones for my mother, I was more sad than angry. I started yelling at the damn pillow (aka my father) and I cried and yelled for quite some time.

Up until this point, I had completely put all of the blame on my mother for his behaviour, or lack thereof because that was easier. It was much easier to think that she had told him that she'd kill him if he should try and contact me or have visits when I was young. He had done the same thing himself while I was living with him, he put all the blame on my mother saying that there was nothing he could do but respect her wishes.

I'm sorry, but if you love your child as one should love a child, there is nothing that can stop one from seeing said child. Why didn't my father take her to court? Why didn't he try and sneak visits in with me when he knew the park I played at almost 24/7? He only lived about 4 blocks away from the damn park! This realisation hit me like a tonne of bricks. I was so upset and angry at my mother for abandoning me when my father did exactly that, only when I was 2. So now I firmly had two parents who abandoned me only it took a lot of thinking that I didn't want to do to bring it out of me. All along I knew this, for I am not naive, nor am I dull. I'm pretty sharp and always was, so I would pick up on things that other children didn't. I was just also VERY good at blocking things out of my mind that hurt too bad. Who am I kidding, I'm still a master of that!

The good news is that I came out of the retreat having forgiven my mother for what she did. I had found compassion for her and I was able to take a good long look into what she had become as a result of learning behaviours or rebelling against them from the grandparents. I could no longer blame her for what she did. I still get quite sad because she abandoned me but I no longer hate her. I no longer have the penchant for violence I once had due to all of that anger regarding my mother.

I have a whole new ballgame to deal with now as I was not quite able to forgive my father the way I was able to do with my mother. I wasn't intending on finding anything that would make it about my father in the first place. Unfortunately, I did.

Now my father is slowly dying of his own accord. He has late-onset diabetes and he's lost a leg and four fingers thus far as he doesn't seem to give a flying fuck enough to quit drinking or smoking cigarettes which is what is taking his life away so quickly. He doesn't eat right at all either. I figured after losing a leg that he would smarten up and take better care of himself. I was wrong. Next went the fingers. Now he's riddled with pain and sores that wont heal. I am watching my father die and I am still angry with him for not being in my life when I was a child, when I needed him most.

I don't know how to relate to him as I should. I have a weird thing about men. I suppose it stems from not having them in my life at all (with the exception of my grandfather who tried his best but was pretty anti-social/anti-emotional) when I was growing up.

He gets mad at me for not calling him, yet he doesn't really call me either. He rarely remembers to call on my birthday and I can count on one hand the gifts he's given me for xmas and birthdays whereas I get him gifts all of the time. It's not really about the gifts though, just the thought. It would be nice to know you are thought about other than when you call and get in shit for not calling often enough..

The reason why I don't call as much as I should is because I have given up on him getting better and now he's dying. I don't like dying; death. I don't do well with it at all for obvious reasons. So now I am trying to avoid him as much as I can because if I should have that talk with him and forgive him, it will be that much worse when he does die. I will lose my only living parent and I don't know if I could handle the pain of losing someone I really, truly love again.

I seem to be doing the same with my grandmother whom I love to death... but that's another story. I feel awful about it, but I don't want to die myself. I can only fight myself off from ending it all so many times before it actually happens. When my grandfather passed I couldn't even go to the hospital to say goodbye. I regret it now immensely but there's nothing I can do to change what happened there. I went out after he passed and got SO fucking drunk and then I popped a bunch of ecstasy and truth be told, I hoped I would not wake up. I did wake up however, and my daughter was conceived a month later.

Sorry Dad, nothing TOO personal... :/

Friday, March 12, 2010

Old Man Crush

Have you ever been oddly attracted to a man who could be your father but who may also be old enough, had he had kids early and they had kids early, to be your grandfather?

I have.

His name is Patrick Stewart.

I'm sorry, SIR Patrick Stewart who's claim to fame would have to be Star Trek the Next Generation.
I remember when the show first started, my mother was very excited because she was an original ST junkie and I was excited because one of my little girl crushes was due to star on the show as Ensign Wesley Crusher (an apt name if you ask me) and man was he ever so sexy playing an uber geek!

At first, I didn't think anything of the new captain of the Starship Enterprise much. He seemed befitting enough. He was level-headed for the most part and wasn't always going around chasing oddly-coloured alien tail a la William Shatner.

As I continued to watch the show religiously with my mother, I began to develop my old man crush and with that, my little girl crush faded into the background. His accent was alluring, he drank tea but remained very masculine whist doing so and all he had to do was utter one single word and everyone would comply. Damn that is hot.

Sir Stewart as he is now called due to being knighted by the Queen of England, started his career mostly in theatre with some minor roles in movies. After Star Trek he would go on to star in quite a few leading or main roles in films such as the X-Men and Masterminds. He also seems to have a penchant for Shakespeare.

I think Sir Stewart is a smart man. He seems to be dating a woman who is younger than his daughter (who is my age coincidentally) and claims that he "doesn't meet women of his own age...". I am pretty certain that that translates from "Sir-talk" into English as: "Women my age are all raisinesque and aren't nearly as flexible (in bed)". Translations like these are easy to make when you are a woman.

He appeared on an episode of Extras with Ricky Gervais and his character on the show has quite the fascination with naked women. Gervais is a lowly extra in a film they are shooting and tries to present a script for a movie to Sir Stewart in hopes that he will make it big in the movie industry. Sir Stewart reads it and keeps asking him questions like "Ok, fine story indeed! But will there be any you know, naked women in the film?" To which Gervais replies that there wont. Stewart insists that there should be some form of nakedness and keeps obsessing about it through the whole show. I laughed my keister off!

All I know is that if I were his girlfriend, he'd have to don his Captain uniform and order me to "Engage".

I particularly like the way he's straddling the bar in this photo:

He also looks pensive and like he means business.

Do you figure he likes to spank or be spanked?
I hope it's the former otherwise my old man crush may very well just fizzle out and die.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Eyes no more.

New eyes
Just a dream
New eyes
So I can be me

Fumbling in the lightness
Headaches that make me ill

My dream of new eyes
Was not at all real

New eyes
New eyes.


Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Lil Miss Makeup

Does anyone else remember this bitch?

I was so excited when my mom agreed to buy her for me! Wow, that's magic! Hey, I was only 10. I loved that doll to death. Literally. I Had to throw her out because she no longer had hair..(I went through a hairdresser on my dolls phase) but she sure did make me want to wear make-up!
I think by the age of 10 I had some of my own stuff. The only problem was, that when I applied it, it looked NOTHING like the doll's perfectly placed magic make-up. Oh no, I looked like a whore trying to apply make-up after smoking a few rocks. I thought it made me look sexy. HA!

As I got older I stopped using the backs and bright red lipsticks. I decided I liked make-up but I wanted a natural look so from the ages of about 15-20 I only wore browns. Brown eyeliner, brown eyeshadow and brown lipstick if I wasn't wearing my gloss. I had a slight addiction to pot lip gloss during my teens.

I have a new obsession with liquid eyeliner lately. I used to have a couple of bottles when I was 14 but back then I was not as skilled with make-up so it always looked like shit. I ended up using them to draw on my walls when I lived with my Dad in Alberta. He was not impressed.

The photo on the top is my eyes lined on the top and bottom lids as I was going for a classic pin-up look and the one under it are lined only on the bottom with some darker brown eyeshadow. I was going for an Egyptian look in the second photo.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Constantly on the move

Last night I was up in my bathroom having a conversation with my cat, Cartman. He responds after I end a sentence so stop laughing already. Anyway, I was babbling about how old he is getting and how he's been through a lot with me. That is when I said "Wow, Carts, you are such a well-adjusted cat for having moved a bunch of different places in your short life." and then I thought "Shit, I have been around longer and in just as many plus more!" I tried to count the number of places. I lived in one spot until I was 8 and then mom and I moved to another neighbourhood and we moved once within it.

That was pretty stable right?
After my mom died I moved in with my aunt and they tried to make it nice for me. They painted it green and purple for me because they were my favourite colours and tried to have me live with them. I stayed at the same school so I could finish grade 8 and it was a long bus ride away. Not only that but I was jealous of her kids for having both parents still alive and together. I was miserable and I didn't want to see happiness I suppose.

I tried moving in with my grandparents after my aunt's place but it didn't go so well. It was a horrible mess, actually. I was angry and they liked to drink. It was a bad combination at the time. They sent me off to live in the Children's Aid Society and I was put into a group home that was co-ed and on a level system. I did not get past level 3 which was the entry level. I was a "problem child" with no counseling at the time and the staff were young and antagonistic. I ended up living on the streets for a while as a result.

After getting picked up by the police numerous times for being AWOL (like I was in some angsty teen army or something)I was threatened with a teen detention center. My grandparents took me back in so I wouldn't have to go there. It didn't work out again (surprise, they were still drinking and I was still angry!) so they sent me to another group home. This time I lucked out and it was all female and it was run by a lovely group of women. I felt cared for there and as if it were a family most of the time, so I was happy.

That is when my dad found out what had happened with my mom and contacted CAS. I had only met him once through an old friend of mine who's mother knew him. He was living in northern Alberta at the time and the CAS offered to fly me out there to see if I wanted to live with him. I arrived out there with my worker and I was so nervous I greeted him with "Oh! Hi! You look like you are pregnant with triplets!"
Luckily for me, he had a sense of humour about his belly. Things went well for a while and my worker deemed it to be fit so I moved in. I lasted six months. I made some awesome friends and was pretty damn popular out there but I seemed to have inherited my father's temper resulting in some interesting moments.

I moved back here to Ontario and back in with my grandparents. They had stopped drinking so much and I was being drugged so I was subdued and zombified. I was not totally innocent either as I was doing a lot of shrooms, lsd and smoking a lot of pot. I lasted there until I was 17 and then I started moving from place to place like crazy.

I think I was just so lost and trying to find "home" that I felt the constant need to move. Always out of place. Little did I know that "home" was in my head. I had my own room in a rooming house at first. After that I had a roommate and we lived in two different apartments. We had a falling out so I moved in with her mother (yes, I know that sounds weird but that's another story)and that is where Cartman was born.I then moved in with my father again who was now back in Ontario.

I lived there with him for a while and decided to get my own place down the street from him. I was trading places with his current girlfriend so she could live with him and I would have my own place for when my ex-fiance was moving back to Canada.

I didn't like it there for whatever reason so I moved to another place a little further away, closer to chinatown. In hindsight it was a good move because the building I was in prior, burned to the ground about 8 months after I moved!

Things did not work out with that guy from Poland and so I moved in with my best friend who wanted to live in the city as she was from the country. We lived together for a year or so and then she wanted to move to Montreal so I was left to find a replacement roommate. That was hell. I ended up moving back in with my grandparents after that for a while to help them out and so I could work and go to school. I was working at the time but never made it into school. My Grandpa died and my Nanna sold the house.

I was pregnant at the time and had nowhere to go. We found this home for pregnant young and troubled women and teens and they accepted me into the home. I was living in a group home all over again only this time, it was hormonal and stinky! Cartman would go on to live at my dad's place until I found my own, which I did.

I got an apartment with my daughter's father but I didn't like that it was only a one bedroom so I put myself on a waiting list for a two bedroom should one come up in the building. Priority was given to families and we counted as that so we moved again but within the same building.

He and I broke up and I moved back to my old neighbourhood around where I went to high school and where the grandparent's house used to be. I thought I would feel more like I was at home. Whatever that meant.
I ended up staying there for four years! I guess I had found my "home". I was also trying to consciously make it my home because I had my daughter to look after now and she needed stability. I was able to provide her with that at least.

I have since moved out of the stinkin' city and into a small town about 40 minutes from the downtown core. I absolutely love it out here but unfortunately, the house we are in right now is not working for us at all. We have a lovely slumlord who knows that there are exposed wires in the walls and floors because rats and/or squirrels (who knows maybe they are mutant rodents for fuck's sake, they sure are loud enough) are chewing them. He doesn't fix anything right the first time but tries to go about the cheap route, which of course never works out! He's pretty damn hot for a guy but he has zero happening upstairs, if you know what I mean. He also likes to go back on his word about things, often. It's time for another move folks!

The good thing about moving this many times is that I have gotten rid of a lot of clutter. If I hadn't moved all of those times, you would be watching me star in an episode of "Hoarders" instead of reading my drivel.

Friday, March 5, 2010

Do You Compute?

I think at some point this weekend I might hole myself up in a room and write. There is something about the pen and paper that inspires me more so than typing on a computer. It feels more real to me I suppose.

I used to do this a lot when I lived on my own by myself or when I had my own room at the g'rent's place. I'd hang out by myself for hours,listening to music, burning incense and candles and just writing whatever popped into my head at the time. I found it very cathartic.

I think it may also be due to my slight aversion to computers. Yeah I know that sounds ridiculous coming from me, right? Maybe not so much. I like the knowledge aspect and the sociability the Internet gives but other than that, I don't much care for them.
I can install new hardware and software and set up a network. I just really dislike doing so.

When I was a child I was a bit of a whiz with computers. My mother bought us a Commodore 64 when I was young and I played on it quite a lot. I used them happily until my mother died.
She spent so much time trying to "upgrade her skills" (and by that I mean locking herself in her bedroom and drinking a lot of beer in front of the computer) in the end that I grew to loathe them and I have just never really became super excited by them ever since.

I just might be the only one on my Mother's side of the family who is not using computers as a career or for their career. I prefer to make art. With my hands. I think that's why I love making stained glass so much. My workbench is a disaster right now. I need to organise it once again so it's easier to work on.

I am sure there are some fun video games on the PC but I don't really care. I play console. I really love the idea of Photoshop as I love photography but I still haven't been bothered enough to care to look at it. There is a copy here if I wish to, however.

I suppose they just strike me as cold and impersonal and when I write creatively, I want to feel close to my work. I'm pretty sure this will not make sense to some people. *laugh*

I also like to doodle on the paper! :D

So, hopefully I will have something new after this weekend.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Oh happy day

I was frigging around on my favourite social networking site today and I saw one of my friends had marked her attendance for a show. It's rather coincidental that I posted a DK video the other night as that is who is coming to town!

Ok, not exactly. The Dead Kennedys broke up in the eighties and I was too young to ever get to see them as a band live. The band and the lead singer Jello Biafra have had a rather large falling out over rights to the music so they will never be together as one again. It's Jello and his new band who will be performing some of their stuff and some DK oldies! I am too freaking excited. I think I might pee my pants.

Back in high school I would get sent home for wearing DK shirts often. I was all for freedom of speech but apparently as a teen foul language is frowned upon. What bullshit is that anyway? We all know teens are the WORST offenders of using excess bad language. It's rebellion time! A time to express ourselves in ways we couldn't before.

The one time it really bothered me was when I wore my Nazi Punks Fuck Off shirt.

There were known Aryan racists at my school who wore white laces in their Doc Martens and red suspenders; I chose multi-coloured ones myself. I am totally opposed to that sort of bigotry and always was. I was asked to leave school property for wearing a swear word on my shirt yet again. This time, I explained to them what I explained above about the blatant (blatant if you were a youth in the 90s) markings of white supremacy that these brainwashed sheep were sporting and that I was trying to make a counter-statement to them. The teachers looked at me like I had three eyes and told me to go home. FAIL!

Well, it wasn't a total fail. They got the message clear. I was never a quiet one in school, that's for certain. I always made a fuss and used my voice to stand up for what I believed in.

Anyhoo, that's about that for now..dinner is ready.
Exciting times!

Monday, March 1, 2010

Something I wrote a while ago...

Innocence Lost

my heart goes
it feels low
I can't see
oh pity me

when I was young
the world so bright
so full of things
to my delight

it seems too far
I want more
this heart of mine
in my own mind

when I was young
the world so bright
so full of things
to my delight

the times with you
of skies so blue
where have you gone
where do I belong?

when I was young
the world so bright
so full of things
to my delight

I can't brain tonight, I have the dumb.

So here's a song:

I love J.E.L.L.O.