Birthday Banner

Happy Whatever Next



I like this shot. I shall look back at this at a future date and realise how much I miss my children. The banner is a remnant of Grace’s recent 11th birthday celebration. I think the film and lens combination sets the tone, reminding me that it is soon to be a bygone era. A part of my life that I will have deeply mixed feelings about. The photography itself being the bridge between the old and the new.
I awoke from a dream this morning where I was out in the street near some houses, picking up sections of Raef’s wooden track that a couple of kids kept throwing over the diamond cage fence separating the houses from the main street. In irritation I began throwing them back, with my final attempt clocking one of the kids straight on the head and knocking him to the ground. I rushed over realising what had happened, only to see that it was Grace, not an errant boy. She was laying on the grass with a big cut on her head and complaining of her back hurting, saying she couldn’t move. I was frozen, but oddly not overly worried. I contemplated calling for an ambulance realising that she was probably suffering with a concussion. She wasn’t being very coherent and kept saying she wanted to sleep. I told the boy who was with her to go to his mum and get some ice for Grace’s head wound, and told Grace to stay awake.
It was the lack of remorse I felt that was curious to me, considering I had potentially put my own daughter in danger by injuring her.
So, this shot is poignant, not least because part of the dream prior to the incident was about meeting up with other Spanish photographers in order to discuss my Hipstamatic art. I had been wearing a long gypsy skirt, and as I walked across the Plaza to the address I’d been given, groups of teen boys, gypsies, would call out, “Oye putilla!”, and laugh amongst themselves. I thought it was to do with the skirt, and not the fact that I felt as though my lower half was naked.
The slight softening around the edges of the shot reflects the muffled feeling I have in my head right now, owing to the tension headache I woke up with, owing to the persistent pain in the neck I’ve had for at least a year now. It isn’t intended to be a euphemism, but I can’t help wonder given the tumultuous events within this time period.
Time now to take the banner down, and consider the next celebration, Christmas, and to consider what comes next. A lot of waiting I suppose, but eventually a big change.

Featured Image -- 1612

Preserve Net Neutrality


Important stuff. Both videos are worth the watch. Shame the US doesn’t have a Monopolies Commission. They should.

Originally posted on Just Me:

My comment for the FCC’s Proceeding on Preserving and Promoting the Open Internet. You can add your voice HERE.

Net Neutrality goes beyond a cable company’s purported desire to allow “faster” access to those willing or able to pay more. In fact, it removes a device and incentive for internet providers to effectively blackmail providers into paying more for first-tier access in order to remain competitive. It shifts the balance of power from a distributed, worldwide content-based one, to an extraordinarily powerful oligopoly in an effectively unregulated telecommunications minefield. Moreover, it reverses all the gains the FCC and the Federal Government obtained when AT&T’s communications monopoly was disbanded. A large, and growing number of citizens now depend on the Internet as their primarily telecommunications vehicle. Through applications such as Apple’s FaceTime, Skype, or Facebook’s Messenger, U.S. citizens now make innumerable audio and video calls domestically and internationally. I…

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Golden woman



I resign,

I’m going to walk away,

I’ve changed my mind.

You can kiss my ass,

And take your leave,

‘Cause what you ain’t giving me,

Is room to breathe.

Do you want me to spell out to you?

Do you want me to make an oath to you?

Like the oaths you broke,

And the dreams you choked.

You stifled my creation,

Now you’re asking for salvation?

You told me my life would start one day,

You never told me that day would never be this day.

What I didn’t know is you were full of shit,

‘Cause what you didn’t say was that this was it.

I’m not as nice as you think I am,

But what you don’t know is that’s not all I am.

It took me all my life to even understand,

That all you said to me was, “You are not a man”.

It had nothing to do with my equality.

It had fuck all to do with my ability,

It had even less to do with my mobility.

All that happened to the seed you planted,

Was that your wish for growth would not be granted,

‘Cause you pissed on it with your advantage,

Until I couldn’t take it any longer,

Until I had to fight the day to stay stronger.

So despite your attempts to try and help me,

To rise above the shit with which you left me,

I find myself in desolation,

Because you were just too weak to be my nation,

My station,

My home,

My highest aspiration.

You broke me into tiny little pieces.

You made me wear all your indigent creases,

Like the dress that never really fit me,

That made the bitch from hell wanna always hit me.

So to you all I have to say is this:

I owe you nothing,

Fuck you.

I give up.

MPoWriMo Sticker Dynamic



Survival of the fittest.



Race duality,

Gene neutrality,

False reality.

Heavy like gravity,

Love depravity,

Up the salary,

Measured by flattery,

Ain’t no clarity,

Just disparity.

Broken charity,

Class morality,

Social insanity,

Check the category,

We ain’t ever free,

Assault and battery,

Remarks defamatory,

Compliance obligatory,

Take this guilt from me,

Send it out to sea,

Kill the enemy,

You ain’t no friend to me.

Real world empathy,

Don’t mean shit to He,

He don’t know my name,

To He it’s just a game,

Where to put the blame,

So He don’t look insane,

Or hang He’s head in shame,

While we all up in chains,

Slaves to He again,


Race reality,

Fuck neutrality,

It’s all a tragedy.


MPoWriMo Sticker Warning


4=2M to the power of 100

Four months is too damned long;

I can barely wait another day.

Don’t persecute me for my impatience,

For I’ve already waited

What seems like an eternity,

Plus four months.

I dreamt of you last night,

Vivid and clear and full of reality.

I remembered thinking that time had sped past,

That finally you were with me,

In my arms.

Though I prepared myself for your leaving.

When I awoke you were already gone,

Realising we were only half way there,

And you were still far away

In your own warm bed,

Also alone and without me.

Missing me, dreaming me maybe,

Wishing I’d come home.

Four months and a life time is too damned long.

The waiting makes me sad.

Four months equals too many miles walked

To the power of one hundred sighs,

Probably more,

Before I reach your door and home.

Before I don’t have to miss your presence

In all its physical godlike splendour any longer.

God I miss you,

And tomorrow I’ll miss you even more.

Four months, a lifetime, and eternity

Is too damned long.

Four equals 2 to the power of one hundred and the rest

Overdue dates.

This is not patience,

This is not endurance,

Neither is a virtue.

This is a hiatus.

And when we, or god, or whatever stop hiatusing,

Then the waiting will be over.

Then my silence will stop.

Then Romeo and Juliet

Can become Rumba and Jazz duet.

Shakespeare is not an epitaph set in stone.

Stories can be rewritten.

And this one needs a new author.

Time we rewrote our version

And kick the tragedy back to the rebirth of cultured man;

Renaissance my ass.

Renaissance this Mo Fo Wo Sho!

MPoWriMo Sticker Dynamic


The Recalcitrant Idiot – Part Two

I am facing a monumental change in my life, after making possibly one of the toughest decisions I’ve ever had to make. Putting that decision to action is going to be tougher still, and is something that will affect me and those close around me for the rest of our lives. In all the confusion and conflicts of opinion recently I have been absorbed in the mediocrity and hypocrisy that those around me have been feeling, and making those feelings my own. Passing judgement on myself based on what I realise others think of themselves.

With great change comes discomfort as you learn to readjust. No birth or rebirth is ever painless, and change is inevitable, right?

Meeting up with immediate family recently has reminded me that I have always felt disapproved of, no matter what it is I’ve done. My latest decision being yet another nail in my already splintered coffin.

My family least of all has ever been able to recognise anything exceptional about me, except possibly that I am an exceptional flake. But the odds have been unfairly stacked against me in so many ways owing to innumerable factors. I am an extrovert, always have been, though I have learned to live the life of an introvert due to trying to placate the introverts around me, until it’s become habit. Something that became resoundingly clear to me just two nights ago. But it can’t be done anymore, I just haven’t got it in me to keep doing that. Four decades is quite enough. Time to transform my ugly duckling butt to the dragon it’s always been, swans are overrated by the way. Seriously. Others can opine in whatever way they see fit.

I realise that what has always irked my family and other people about me is that I am the epitome of all that is culturally irritating. The criticisms I often face are the product of, let’s be honest, a ‘rehearsed’, and ‘accepted’ inadequacy that apparently I make others feel. Although, this is no more than a culturally ingrained knee-jerk. A knee-jerk that tends to kick at highly skilled, extroverted, female polymaths, heck, anyone with any notable skill or talent, who is not afraid to take risks and try new things in the pursuit of creativity and happiness. I’ve already broken every socially accepted rule about a person of my stereotypical demographic stature in one sentence alone.

Thing is, I wasn’t born just yesterday, so the things I am good at have taken years of dedicated practise already. Whether it was acceptable for me to do so or not. I am a product of their stilted judgements as I am of my own making. If you were to spend the years doing some of the things that I’ve been doing, you’d be damned good at them too, and it has nothing to do with demographic stereotypes.

I am a natural optimist, a factor that also seems to get up people’s noses. Why? Because unfortunately, people like wallowing in pain. It’s my family all over. I understand that, and I have been no different at times. We all like our comfortable niches of self-imposed terror, because they are familiar and warm. And comfort, albeit false, will always override discomfort, even if it leads to better things, because it’s often a matter of self-preservation than preference. It doesn’t mean however, that it should be perpetuated, or imposed upon those around you that you claim to love and care about.

All of this is tantamount to social treason of course, despite the obvious logic of my premises, because not conforming to certain rules, and trying instead to rattle cages loose with my big ol’ dragon wings is just not the done thing. Pure and simple.

I have discovered however, that it is hard not to be an optimist when you realise that the power of your own beliefs dictates the version of events you wish to accept as real, so why bother wallowing in negativity when it serves little purpose other than to perpetuate more pain? Optimism then, or, a desire to seek solutions becomes the only way forward in my mind.

Conforming has never really been my strong point, and that is the crux of most of my ills if I think about it, the one thing that is underlying my feelings of discomfort right now. I’ll play your game, but on my terms, because despite all of my tendencies to comply with others, I have always had a very strong sense of integrity. Naturally this creates friction. I find that once a certain line is crossed with me, I’m done, and there is no return. It’s taken me a lot to reach this particular line that I’m teetering on presently, but here I am ready to draw this particular chapter of my life to a close, despite the damage it may seemingly cause, and the disapproval it will raise.

I have learned to keep my cards very close to my chest over the years, while others make their defamatory remarks, pass their mis-judgements about me, and abuse my confidence. The truth is, very few have ever been able to read me accurately, nor have I wanted them to. I have become the master of subterfuge, to the point that from time to time I have forgotten who I was supposed to be. Perhaps we all do that to an extent.

You see, the disapproval I experience has nothing to do with anything, other than people don’t like to be caught with their pants down. They don’t like their guilty, hypocritical pleasures being exposed for all to see, dressing their excuses up as: “I don’t want you to repeat similar mistakes”. Bullshit! Exercising the acceptable right to self-flagellate is something that we have all indulged in. It is a social pastime. Kowtow to this rule, so that we benefit in such and such way. It’s socially accepted blackmail that only comes from an abuse of power, and as we all live within hierarchical structures, it’s clearly inevitable. A family is a hierarchical structure, so the same rules apply. The unspoken excuse is more akin to: “I don’t want your actions to make me feel even worse about mine”.

Too bad, because I can no longer pretend to be responsible for anyone else, not when it has been at the expense of my own happiness, and when I am now paying heavily for my martyrdom with my health. I can only truly be responsible for myself. My responsibility to my children for example is a legal requisite, but as a mother, I know damned well that I cannot control what they think and do ultimately, as I am not them, my job is to ensure their safety and well-being as best as I am able, not to be their puppet-master.

Being exposed as the social monkeys that we are expected to be makes us feel fraudulent, despite our willingness to comply. Being exposed as a bad parent, or sibling is equally caustic. Rightly so, because an abuse of position and power is a despicable behaviour, that often causes irreparable damage, not only to those around us, but to ourselves. The trouble is, few people recognise or are willing to accept this about themselves. Falling victim to faulty beliefs, and thus victimising others with that as their yard stick.

We all have our own paths to tread and explore, and sometimes things just need to change, even if only one person seems to be leading the charge. I would be a hypocrite to discount everything that I have learned from my own explorations of personal reality, in favour of the cultural practise of pointing fingers. Change happens because everybody involved makes it happen, even if unaware. We are all accountable for our role in the unfolding events of life. Yet change is rarely a voiced consensus, as for the most part it is a subconscious imperative. That anyone steps up to the plate and voices that consent is an act of bravery I think, as they are representing all involved. It’s a heck of a burden, and it can weigh heavily indeed, as I’ve discovered.

So am I brave or just foolish?

The thing is, I won’t know until I do it, until I take that leap. Nor will anyone else involved know how they feel until they silently concede that the time is right. Personally I will always err on the side of positivity, as stated. Doubt is a necessary temporary measure, because without it the need to change and improve can’t be realised.

None of us has any idea what it’s like to be someone else. We all pass judgements on others based on what we personally feel. There is no right or wrong conduct because no matter what decisions you make, there will always be someone for whom it is a disadvantage. We all have our challenges to overcome. I am so used to making sure that everybody else around me is happy first, that I forget that I’m there at all sometimes. That’s all that’s changing.