Posts Tagged: ‘truth’

my best friend is sick

September 16, 2020 Posted by the writer

Jose is in the hospital with septic shock. David and I have been on the phone discussing a million different ways to say, “You got this…”

You got this…

Quite a few heads came around here yesterday to read my This is Paris review where I mentioned some traumatic shit I was hit with a few years back.

Yesterday I was discussing with my psychologist certain things about me that changed after all that went down. We’re all changing every day as fluid creatures, some things leave more of a scar.

Anyways, I was telling her about how since the cops jumped me, I’ve been much more in tune with trauma in general. Not just mine, but everyone’s, all over the world.

When you survive something a bit extraordinary to what’s average, you look at the world differently I suppose.

Jose has already survived major lung surgery. He was fighting strep throat with one lung when shit turned from there. He’s in the hospital right now on the westside of Manhattan fighting for his life.

No one can visit him because of corona fever. I can’t even send flowers.

After the NYPD tried to kill me, the courts criticised me for going on with my life. Like, since I refused to allow a couple of NYPD c*nts destroy my life, that meant everything was fine.

Let me tell you, I refuse to let anything break my spirit, ever. I was raised like that. It’s a massive factor of what makes me.

That said, Jose being unwell is giving me a bit of a broken heart beating. I’m going to send him more texts, tell him I love him and send whatever vibes I can to the other side of the world to get him better.

I believe your spirit and soul can heal no matter what. It’s part of what I’m trying to learn to guide others with using Art and, naturally, Writing.

But human bodies can be a real drag. I’m going to go trance out and send my homie light. He’s fighting now in a way none of us could imagine. TBH it dwarfs anything I’ve ever been through. Real talk.

Cross your fingers for us.

this is paris. a review.

September 14, 2020 Posted by the writer

While writing my last ‘words I don’t like‘ post which specifically targets the words ‘content’ and ‘influencer’, I was simultaneously playing Paris Hilton’s new documentary in the background.

Because as an Artist, there’s nothing I appreciate better than a proper contradiction.

I don’t really know anything about Paris Hilton. She falls into the media abyss where my ordinary reaction is to turn my head and plug my ears… as I’ve been discussing on this blahg since it fired up close to eleven years ago.

I think Paris is brave for addressing her trauma. That’s my major takeaway. It also completely triggered me, and I personally related to her struggle. Not because I went to a boarding school that physically, mentally and sexually abused girls… because I was physically, mentally and sexually abused by the NYPD during an incident of police brutality back in April 2014.

Paris has never mentioned her abuse until now, and neither have I. I wrote a short story about it in May 2014, but I was terrified of lawyers (who ended up fucking me over) and shunned by society because this was before everyone was running around calling the NYPD out for what they are; the way that’s happening today (shout out).

When Paris talked about being naked in the shower and the disgusting men at the school watching her, it reminded me of being half naked on the ground, with my hands cuffed behind my back, while four male officers kicked the shit out of me.

They did this after two other officers approached me, in front of my apartment, on a night where I locked my keys inside and was trying to get back in. This happened when I had nothing on but a tiny t-shirt having been on my way to bed. I’ll say it again, naked from the waist down.

Initially, two cops rocked up, asked no questions, and immediately attacked me. A man double my size held me down while a girl with hair a colour similar to Paris tazed me seven times.

Seven times.

The weapon they used on me was actually banned that year because it was killing too many people. It was a Taser X26, you can read about it here.

One thing overlooked in This is Paris is her privilege, and I’m not saying that to be a bitch. I believe she’s a genuine person, no doubt. Judging by my NYPD assault, I understand how hard it is to come out about being abused in a situation you where you have no control, particularly as a woman.

However, I would have liked to have heard Paris say once in the documentary (just once) that she’s grateful for the opportunities bestowed to her because she comes from a tribe of billionaires. I think not mentioning that was a bit disingenuous, but I also believe it was a legitimate oversight coming from someone who, whilst having suffered immense trauma, was born into a lifetime of security regardless of how many perfumes you put out or shows you play.

I admire Paris being courageous and speaking up, and I admire all of the other girls who went to her school who are starting to speak up.

I’m starting to speak up too. But without a billionaire great grandfather, I’m not sure how many people will actually hear me.

If you read my review Paris, congratulations on what you created. I was happy to hear that what you shared was therapeutic after holding it in for so long. I cried like five times and would definitely recommend others to experience the story. Not to learn about your life, to get an honest picture of a survivor dealing with the aftermath of disgusting men, and women, abusing other human beings and taking away their rights. Real trauma.

Also, I too like dogs better than people. Full stop.

words i don’t like

September 14, 2020 Posted by the writer

Being the language lover I am, there are two words I don’t like.

‘Content’ and ‘influencer’.

I don’t like the word content because it takes the essence out of the word writing.

It sounds like something to be merely consumed rather than cherished and considered, something forced instead of something thoughtful.

Content takes away from my personal definition of writing which is based on create.

The reason I don’t like the word influencer is very simple, I’m not someone who’s influenced.

In the westernised world where I tend to reside, the media seethes. I have made a very conscious, life-long effort to make moves to avoid this.

It’s why I’ve never owned a television the 20 years I’ve been out of my parents’ house. I don’t read newspapers unless I’m getting paid to.

It’s work living in my happy bubble. New York City is ironically a wonderful place to avoid the media because as much as everyone is watching the city, in the city you’re just marvelling at what’s around you.

A large part of why I elect to live in Australia is because of the tiny population, 24 million. Less people, less media, it’s a very simple equation.

Don’t get me wrong, I still like some documentaries. I still play with cameras and have fun on Tik Tok. I’m going to be starting a podcast, and once I create my writing program, I’ll have to have some type of strategy to share what I create with as many people as I possibly can.

In the meantime, I’m going to keep hiding out with my three dogs chasing waves and kissing sun.

No content, and certainly no influencers.

perspective. training.

April 9, 2020 Posted by the writer

Namaste blahg tribe

To keep things in perspective, I thought it worth bringing light today to the fact that I have no family on my favourite continent. And three of my five friends are in New York City.

In 2002 I was here for a wonderful love that lasted until it was finished which is when I started this webpage, to mend my broken heart.

I’ve literally been divorced three times since post number one, let that seep in.

As a little girl in the 80’s with four big sisters, everything was boys and love. I wanted all of that. Thought I had it for a minute, but what I had was an interesting phase of spiritual progression which concluded when my then partner ceased progressing.

I wrote three poetry books about it back then. I never think of him anymore.

I used to thrive on co-dependency. Not because I ever felt like I needed anyone, it was just really nice believing someone was there.

I’ve ranted over the years about my spiritual practice, how my ingrained belief since birth is the blunt understanding that we exist as one making it impossible to therefore be alone.

My heart extends to anyone who is sick right now, lost a loved one or entangled in quarantine chaos. My life hasn’t actually changed much to date. Don’t get me wrong, I understand this virus means nothing will ever be the same – but at the moment, I’m living pretty regularly.

Training a seven week old puppy when you have a 13 year old and 8 year old dog is real talk. I’m happy to be full-time home because I wouldn’t be able to give any of them the time and attention to adjust if I was, say, running around midtown Manhattan hustling words.

All of that word hustling brought me back home and I couldn’t be happier. I like to think the light of happiness can outshine any level of darkness that splats across our canvas.

So on that note, I’ll keep doing my thing. Meditating, manifesting, and most importantly — staying mindful. Oh, and writing.

… always writing. Never get it twisted. x o x

extra. so much.

March 13, 2020 Posted by the writer

I got divorced again last week. Lucky number three…

I have made new friends who I’m helping. I may have found a third dog.

Every time I get this happy… which has only happened two times before…

I have k(NO)w

De –

– sire

To say any(thing).

One love.

Ps:

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    FollowMeToNYC is a creative processing ground which expresses individual ideas that often change with the tides. Naturally, these ideas do not reflect those of any of my employers, or anyone else you might see me wandering down the street with one day.
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