I Am Irelevant


Everyone is changing, do I just stay the same?
April 7, 2010, 2:14 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

When people let me into their lives and hearts I see amazing things. People are experiencing things and growing through brambles and down canyons. Rape. Death. Drugs. Poverty. Sickness. Abandonment. Fear. Travel. Cold. Neglect. Abuse. But they are here now, beside me. Have I any legitimate change over time except a few warped diagnoses which I now collectively refer to as “This is how I am” because it’s faster?

Somewhere between 1993-1995 > She has Schizophrenia. My mother didn’t believe them. Was it the imaginary brother? Insistence I used to be Indian and burned alive above my husband according to legend, a true legend, that I would have had no way of knowing? Was it the writhing and shrieking?

1994- Dubai

WHIMPERS *approach* HITS * backs away* LOOKS FEARFULLY…DON’T LEAVE ME DON’T LEAVE ME DON’T LEAVE ME!

1995-Dubai (Miami temp.) ADHD/ADD/ Dyslexia. She does not feel happiness or sadness from before or after, she is pure, she is a prisoner of these moments. She will run into traffic, she will despair, she will dance with glee. WATCH HER CAREFULLY. PROTECT HER SLEEP. He said.

2006 – Windsor

ACS Hillingdon, Highschool. Awful. Sensory Integration Disorder
So there’s a reason I like it tight? There’s a reason i walk into doorways, a reason I whimper when I have to cut my nails? A reason I want my jeans dirty not clean, clean is a different texture. Therapy commences.

2007- Brazil

Major Depression Disorder. Therapy commences. I hate it. Fuck you and your pearl necklace. Take them into therapy, they are sick, I just need to leave this place. They snicker at my art. I snicker at their developing alcoholism.

July 2007- Windsor, UK

August 2007- PA The First Girl

WHERE DID YOU GO? 3 months. Another boy. Yours, mine. Ours. SICKNESS. Bloody socks. Kitchen knives. “Please don’t leave me. My angel, I love you I need you, don’t leave me!!” “I am here. I love you.”

Did you fuck her? Yes. Did you fuck him? Yeah.   Goodbye. I miss my everythings. I stare at Spanish sunsets as my grandmother looses her mind behind me. I remind her she has her keys for the fifth time. I am silent, I am never silent. I am silent

August 2007- Why do I want to run from something so safe and beautiful? Because there’s so much OTHER out there, let me taste something bitter and harsher; light me on fire.

2007   TIA- This Is Africa.      I wanted to take Yolanda home in her torn orange dress. Who will I invite into my home when I have the right to rule the door and who goes there? How many beauties and dangers will I invite into my kitchen. I have a compulsive need to sew up your wounds. Come to me

2008- A Swedish graduation

Dec 2008
My mother: “This is scary, this is me 30 years ago!”

Mama never looked like this though,

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