Loving the Journey

I haven’t written in awhile, because I thought I had nothing to write about. I was thinking, what’s so exciting about me doing paper work? I mean, I have applied for school, and it’s just getting everything on my check-list in so that the University can finish processing my application.

But after much thought, I have been doing more than just that.

I’ve volunteered 3 times this month at The Arts Project. I helped fold, and package post cards for the Art Skate event.  I was a floater at Fanshawe College’s Second year students art exhibition called “Still Standing.” And I was a floater for the “A Love Affair with London” art show, which was a 60th anniversary show by the London Gallery Painting Group.  I hope to be as good as those artists one day.  They clearly have a lot of experience. I was flabbergasted by what some of them did with water colour paint, which I find isn’t so easy to master, because water colour paint tends to bleed, and you have less control over it.

Besides that, I have been trying to get my own work out there. I have been working on numerous projects. Bouncing from one to the other. I have a dark oil painting I’m working on at the New School of Colour (Ark Aid Street Mission location), which has been getting some attention, and it’s not even done yet. People can’t wait to see it complete. Of coarse, they will have to be patient. New School of Colour runs Mondays and Wednesdays at the Ark Aid Street Mission, and I can only attend one of those days. Plus, on the day I do go, it does get crowded. So the space to work, is sometimes a challenge.

Then there’s my painting at the New School of Colour (My Sister’s Place location), which is being done in acrylic paint. I think it’s funny how my painting and I get treated like royalty there.  Volunteers make sure that no one disturbs my prop, or my painting. They make sure I’m all set up and ready to go. Perhaps it’s how much they value my painting that I find funny. I normally paint things from out of my head, but this one is different. I was challenged to paint a still life, an object in front of me. Which happens to be fake orange flowers. It’s been getting a lot of compliments. People that walk by as I paint say it is beautiful, or it’s amazing, or it’s gorgeous. I guess the facilitator wants it for an art show that will take place some time in April. He did tell me the date, but I don’t remember those kind of details unless I write it down.

Besides that, there is another acyclic painting I have at home that I am working on. I am going to try to submit it into the Framing the Phoenix art show. It’s a mental health exhibition, which I think I am more than qualified.  A life time of abuse and, well…trying to break that cycle on my own. Having to learn to interact with other people differently than what I have known and seen. It’s on-going, and I’m continuously learning. I fuck up every now and then. But the difference between me and my abusers is that I own up to my mistakes. I don’t try to sweep it under a carpet, forget about it, or pretend like it never even happened. I have been bouncing from counselor to counselor over the years. Yeah, I think I’m qualified. Hopefully my painting doesn’t get rejected. It does express my confusion towards religion, and I don’t know. People could possibly be offended by it. Religion is a touchy subject.

So yes, besides trying to get my ducks all lined up in a row for school. Appointments, and whatnot, I have been busy.

My homework from my last Leads appointment is to record my sleep hours. And believe me, looking at it on paper, it’s amazing I can even function! I sleep very irregular hours. One day, up at 5am. The next day I’m sleeping in. Then I’m awake at 6am. And it’s just like a tug of war with sleep. On the days where I do get up early, I definitely do my best to squeeze in a nap. Yesterday, I took a half an hour nap before I went to go visit my children.  Their awesome by the way. My daughter said she was an alien, she even made a headband with antennas that had pom poms on the end. Freakin adorable. Mama’s lil alien! And my son, same as always. My energetic lil clown that always knows how to make his mama laugh.

I spoke to someone from First Nation Housing yesterday, told them that there’s a settlement conference in April. But until I can financially support my children, I will have visits else where. Which confused the person I was talking to. She was wondering why OW wouldn’t support me. I’ve talked to two workers about it, both said that it would be best if I got a part-time job or go to school. So I am going to do my best to take on both. Be a part time student, and a part time employee. Whatever it takes, if it means time with my children.

Supervised access isn’t really necessary. But I requested it, considering the domestic violent background between me and my ex. So once C.A.S isn’t involved anymore, another third party can still be there. I already did an intake at Merrymount at the beginning of the year to get that all arranged for when C.A.S closes our file. They will make sure that my ex and I have no contact during the picking up and dropping off of our children. My visits will be supervised. But I really don’t mind. At least until I get a job, or go to school. Once that happens, I can finally have my kids home for the weekends. Then who knows, maybe I will be too busy at that point to be concerned with whatever comes flapping out of my exes mouth.

Things are good. I may have struggles and fights with friends from time to time. But hey, I believe we crossed paths for a  reason. Maybe there is something they can learn from me, or something I can learn from them. Point is, they are meant to be there, and I am not going to fight that anymore, just accept it.

So far I can say I am loving where life is taking me, even though I have no idea where that is going exactly. But I’m loving the journey. – Pooks


Admiration with no sense of Direction

They say that it is important to have role models. But lately, I’ve been kinda lost. My own role models seem to be losing their appeal.

Minus Gordon Ramsay. I love his work ethic, the way he handles things, including tough situations. He comes across as very professional. How can you not look up to that? I know some people would say he’s mean, because of his yelling and cursing. But when he wants to get something done right, he gets it done. He doesn’t tolerate any bullshit.

So who is losing their appeal? Tyra Banks. At first I thought she was this amazing business woman. She went to Harvard, and the message she tries to send out that all flaws are beautiful was awesome. But I don’t know. From her last season, I’ve become disappointed. I see this older woman trying to be younger, and in fact going kind of cougar-ish on her co-judges. Specifically Rob Evans. So yeah, that was a bit disturbing. Then she acts like a complete air head with P-Trique. Seriously? This person went to Harvard? She hasn’t been acting very professional, and more like a child. Plus, I think the only reason the model won from cycle 19 was because her parents were wealthy celebrities. Heaven forbid if she didn’t win. So I think that was unfair to the other contestants. Ones that actually come from the streets. This girl didn’t have to go on America’s Next Top Model, she could have accomplished it on her own. She’s got the connections, if not, I’m sure her parents do. Obviously I don’t remember her name, because I didn’t really care too much for her.

Anyway, I am enjoying “The Face” , which is hosted by former judge of America’s Next Top Model; Nigel Barker. He seems to be taking things in a more professional approach than Tyra. I’m not sure what’s going on with Tyra, I use to love her cooky-ness. But now it’s just over-board. Way over the top. You’d think she’s on drugs or something.

I admit, I act pretty crazy myself at times, especially around my friends. But I think there is a time and a place for it. It’s not a constant thing. My friends and I know when it’s time to tone it down and take things a bit more seriously. Yes, we clown around at the New School of Colour, but that’s not all we do. We also work. Or give each-other the space to work. Say one of us is concentrating, we may clown around a little bit, but then two of us will back off and let them continue to do their thing.

Another idol in question, Corey Taylor. Yes, for the last two years I’ve placed him on a high pedestal like a metal god. But I don’t know. I fear he may be getting too disconnected, or he’s losing touch of what metal means. He was whining on Twitter about the Grammy’s. That his genre doesn’t get enough attention it deserves. I said; “Isn’t that the way Metal should be? Not about Grammy awards, and all that glam. Keeping it real. Metal is the rebellion.” Metal is about the underdogs. Metal heads don’t want all the glitzy glamor and fame of such things as the Grammy’s. Metal is like Marilyn Mansion going on stage showing his bare white ass! Do you think he cares about the Grammy’s? No! It’s not about the Grammy’s. Metal is about a simple message that contains two words: “Fuck you.” So I think Corey may be forgetting that, and getting too raveled in with fame. At least I can count on his band members in Slipknot to remember that, especially Shawn Crahan. Shawn is an artist, he is metal. I know he won’t forget.

In an old interview; Corey said he would use a Grammy as a toilet paper roll. Somewhere along the line he has lost that essence.

Don’t get me wrong, Corey Taylor is a great musician, amazing song writer, he can turn just about any song into a hit. He’s got the voice. It allows him to be very diverse. I just hope that fame doesn’t get to his head and he just becomes another Fred Durst.

One thing I like about Corey is his gratitude. He’s always appreciated his fans. I just don’t know what happened to him over the years. How can he go from a guy that says he’ll use a Grammy as a Toilet Paper Roll, to a guy whining that his band only got nominated in one category and it wasn’t even televised? Crying over publicity.

I know a lot of people would say my role model should be Jesus. But if you can’t already tell, I am a bit confused when it comes to religion and Jesus. I mean, would there be homophobia if it weren’t for the Bible? Would my people’s culture and families have been torn apart if it weren’t for the Bible? Would there be as much racism and hate if it weren’t for the Bible? Let alone sexism. Jesus is white man, so all these white men got their heads up their asses over it. If your god came down to earth as a human, than it isn’t actually human! Let alone a man! Jesus is a suit. He is a spirit, and without a body, God has no identity.

Honestly, If people can take a movie, re-write the script, and re-release it. I think the same can apply to the Bible. I think man has already messed with it’s original content so that people will despise those of a different faith, of a different culture, of a different personal sexual preference. It is that power and corruption that is messing with today’s society. As I’ve come to notice, the Government and religion seem to go hand in hand.

What was it that the Pastor once said? “The important thing is, is that we all believe in Jesus.”

I already expressed that I would rather praise the Creator itself. Not the supposed middle-man. Ahem, suit. The Bible can’t even make up it’s mind what he is. One minute Jesus is God. Then he is God’s son,or the  Lamb of God, etc, etc. Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?! If I am to worship something, it will be the one that created the land. No Jesus. The supposed son or whatever the heck he is. It will be the big Spirit itself.

Anyway, yeah. I was browsing through the Bible. I ran into Deuteronomy 11:16, 11: 31 & 32, and 12:1-7. I found it very disturbing to say the least. THAT is not my Creator. Not the one I know and believe in my heart.

So yeah, idols. They say it’s important to have a role model. Someone to look up to. And If  you can’t find a good role model, be one. I suppose I could try to be one, but I am always making mistakes. I guess I already am one to my children. Hopefully a good one.

There is always Gordon Ramsay. But in order for me to follow his lead as a business person, I need some serious tweaking. – Pooks

I am…

Every once in awhile I post my own poetry. Poetry has been one of the many forms I use to vent, besides art. Heads up, I do use vulgar language, as it is a form of expression, and I believe they express whatever I’m feeling more clearly. So if vulgar language offends you, do not continue. – Pooks

I am

You want to tell the world that I am a whore

But only I can say what I am

You want to tell the world I look like a drag queen or something from Bollywood

But only I can say what I am

You want to tell the world that I am drunk off my ass, and high on crack

But only I can say what I am

You want to tell the world that I am damaged goods, and that no one will want me

But only I can say what I am

You want to tell the world that I am fuckin crazy

But only I can say what I am

You want to tell the world that I am a liar, and a cheater

But only I can what I am

You want to tell the world that I am a bitch

But only I can say what I am

It’s my turn now

I have the pen

It’s my story, and you don’t write it

I am… shy at first, but then I just get weirder

I am… observant

I am… cautious, thanks to you and people like you

I am… a day dreamer

I am… rebellious, and out of your control

I am… stubborn, my favorite word is “no”.

I am… elusive. I demand and deserve respect.

I am… spontaneous. I like the adventure. I enjoy a surprise

I am… a laughing jester created by my own pain and demise

Yes, I said demise. A part of me died and something else arose

I am… a mother, a sister, an aunt, a cousin, and a grand-daughter

I am… adopted

I am… the youngest in one family, the middle child in another

I am… Native

I am…  French, but speak English

I am… intolerant to disrespect

I am… disorganized, and chaotic. I get bored of repetition. I have no routine, no structure.

I am… a smoker and addicted to caffeine

I am… a poet, a writer, a blogger

I am… all over social media

I am… photographer

I am… a painter

I am… an artist

Unlike you, so destructive.

I am… a creator

I am… critical

I am… expressive

I am… misunderstood

I am… both the tom-boy and the diva

I am… crazy and meticulous

Crazy in a good way. Not your definition of crazy

I am… honest

I am… an open book

I am… a metal head

I am…  a hermit that likes my space

I am… unique

I am… not a follower. Not a leader. I stray on my own path

I am… horrible at carrying on conversations

I am… a listener, but easily distracted

I am… forgetful and clumsy

I am… awkward

I am… playful

I am… a woman

I am… captivating and inspiring

I am… a super star in my children’s eyes

I am Pooks

The last and youngest child of Elizabeth King

I will be her legend

So don’t bother to try to say who I am

Because you obviously do not know

Only I say who I am

Maybe you should try to focus yourself for a change

You only slice me up because your own self-esteem is low

You can’t admit you weren’t good to me

You were never a friend, always the foe

At least I can now say what I really am

I am free

 Copyright © 2013 by Pooks

The Significance of May 7th

I had a visit in the evening with my children yesterday. My daughter wants me to go to her birthday party. She tells me there’s going to be cake, and muffins. I use to go all out for the kids birthdays, so I guess my ex has quite the example to follow. I use to put a lot of thought into it, to make their big day special.

Anyway, she got a bit upset because I said that I cannot go. Then both my children asked why? And then they wanted to know what happened between my ex and I, I just answered with; “I can’t go.”

I’m not going to say what I actually think to my kids. That wouldn’t be fair to them. They love their father as much as they love me. But why won’t I go? Not only do I not want to step foot on my exes property ever again. My ex tends to be an ass every time he opens his mouth. He’s pro at “Everything not to say to a woman.” I don’t need any more verbal abuse, I don’t have to put up with it. Plus, the kids don’t really need to witness that kind of behavior. Every time we’re around each-other it just gets ugly.  Either my resentment gets the best of me, or his insecurities get the best of him. Things seem to be  better when we’re separated.

Anyway, My daughters birthday is on May 7th. A while back I was going through my filing cabinet, and I found my mothers death certificate. She died on May 7th.  She was murdered by my fathers girlfriend, and my father tried to hide his girlfriend, and the weapon. Thus making him an accomplice.

I never noticed the date before, I always ignored and pushed that document aside. My mother died May 7th, 1984. I would have been 2 years old. Too young to remember her. It’s a strange coincidence. Years later I give birth to my daughter, May 7th,2009, and pass on my mothers name; Elizabeth King. So it’s a day of tragedy, and a day of rejoice. A day of death, and a day of birth.

What will I be doing on May 7th this year if I won’t be celebrating my daughter’s birthday with her?  I’m sure I will celebrate with her, just not her day. Probably during a visit. If visits continue on Wednesdays when May rolls around, then I will have the day after her birthday to spend time with her.

On May 7th, I will be at an art exhibition called “Caring between the Lines” at The Arts Project. I submitted two photo’s that might be auctioned off, and proceeds will go to charities or non-profit organizations/ groups of my choice. For one image I chose 50/50 of the proceeds  to go to the New School of Colour and the Ark Aid Street Mission. The other image I submitted the proceeds will go to the East Village Arts Collective. My way of giving back to my community, E.O.A (East Of Adelaide), and supporting those who have supported me. So I will be working. Getting my art alias name, Pooks, out there into the world. Slowly but surely, it is getting done.

Even though I may be preoccupied on that day, I guarantee that my thoughts will be with my mother, and my daughter when that day arrives. – Pooks

Making the best of a Gibbled Day

Things didn’t go as planned today, but I didn’t dwell on it, I just moved on.

I was up all night thinking what it is I want to do the following day. It’s like I think if I go to sleep, I will either forget, or miss whatever it is I have planned. So I must not sleep.

Morning rolled around, and I was waiting for my check stub to come in the mail. I waited, and waited. Waiting can be draining. Even the word “waiting”  makes me tired. My cheque stub never came, and I fell asleep around 11am. So I missed court at 2pm. Even though I was already told what is likely to happen since my ex couldn’t be served with papers. I didn’t wake up until 4pm.

I can contact my lawyer and talk to him over the phone so that he can fill me in what had happened, what we’re doing next kind of thing. Baby steps. One day it will all be over. I have faith.

So the next thing on my agenda was the New School of Colour. Which I was late for, and didn’t get any art done. I didn’t show up until after 7pm. I tend to be a little princess in the shower. It takes me forever to convince myself to hop in, and once I’m in the shower, it takes me forever to get out. I like to take my precious time with things.

So I got there, I ate my dinner. I sat at a table with a stranger. A native man. He asked me what it is that I do? I told him; art, and I pointed to the ink drawing I did that is hanging on the wall at the Ark Aid Street Mission. He said it was good, but he said he can’t picture me as an artist in my future. So I asked him what he see’s? He said he can picture me as a news anchor. I laughed, because I recently posted a video on youtube called; “Not News Anchor Material.” I disagreed. I told him that my communication skills aren’t that great. Also, when I speak, there are a lot of “uhhh..’s” and “ummm…’s” Haha! The other occupation he said he could see me doing was modelling. I do take a lot of pictures of myself, just for the hell of it. But I am 30, I do not have the body type. I have a mama booty. What the modelling industry seeks are a lot smaller than I, and younger, more fresh. Even though I don’t really look 30. People often mistake me for being under-age.  That might be because of the way I dress. Slightly tom-boyish. Jeans, sweaters, baggy t-shirts. In the summer I wear shorts that barely go above the knees. I like to be comfortable. Although, on my feet, I do add a feminine touch from time to time with heels. As for dresses and skirts I wear the odd time, the more rare of an occurrence it is, the more special it is I find.

So yeah, it was nice to have a conversation with a complete stranger. He said he hasn’t drank alcohol for 26 years, so I congratulated him on that. Habits, or addictions aren’t easy to kick, so when someone who is proud of their accomplishment and shares it, they deserve the praise. I know because I’m a smoker. It’s a habit I haven’t been able to part with. But people who can over-come their addictions, they are admirable. It takes a lot of self-discipline to succeed. So kudos to him, and every other person that has kicked their addictions to the curb.

At the New School of Colour I got greeted by fellow artists. One said he thought about me daily, I’ve been missed. Also one of the Spanish artists returned, that made me happy to see her there. She is an incredible artist.

A floral frame caught my eye, so I picked it out. The Facilitator and a friend both thought the same thing. Great minds think alike. They suggested that a morbid gruesome picture should be framed in it. Considering you have this nice beautiful white floral frame, and bam! Viewers would think “What the fuck?!” if they saw a disturbing image within it. Challenge accepted, so I took the frame home.

Before heading home though, my girls and I went to Tim Hortons for extra large mocha’s. As usual, we talked, we laughed, it was fun. The server cracked us up when she said “I’m going to drizzle in it good!” Anyone that knows my friends and I, especially on Mondays, it is:  Mind in the Gutter Mondays. Haha!

So even though the day didn’t go as planned, it still went well. I made the best of it. Tomorrow is another day to try again. – Pooks

Below is the youtube video I did that I mentioned earlier about the whole news anchor thing. Yeah…nuh uh. Not for me. Lol


By pooks82

Writer of the Month! Thanks to Diana Jane for hosting awesome online writing competitions. They’re really fun. – Pooks

By pooks82

Let’s proceed, shall we?

I have court tomorrow at 2:30pm. It was said to be a Settlement Conference, but I got a feeling things will be adjourned since my lawyer could not serve my ex with papers. Someone in his neighborhood told my lawyer that he moved. Which I don’t think he has. I think he’s just getting someone to lie for him to avoid my lawyer. Because he’s paranoid like that.

I will go to court anyway. Even though I kinda already know the outcome, things will just get prolonged even more, thanks to my paranoid ex. If he just accepts the papers, the sooner this court crap is over with. And if he did move, he could at least notify the authorities involved. Personally, I don’t care for his address. I don’t intend on ever stepping into his home ever again.

Besides that, I attended the Empty Bowls fundraiser which took place March 1st. I supported my friends that were involved. They sold out in the after noon, and it was looking pretty crowded in the evening, so I think the event was a success. The proceeds go to the Ark Aid Street Mission. So yaaaay!

I am submitting a small 4X6 art piece to Seedy Saturday. I guess the New School of Colour will have a table at that event, and to raise money they requested artists to submit/donate small works of art related to plant life and gardening. Money from the sold pieces will go to the New School of Colour, which can be used for more art supplies, and other things that can help New School build, improve, and expand. March 9th is the date of the event. It is at the Carling Heights Optimist Centre between 10am – 3:30pm. I think it is $5 at the door.  I may or may not go. But I am definitely chipping in.

I also got involved with this other upcoming event. Thanks to Twitter I kinda stumbled upon an opportunity to give back to the New School of Colour and the Ark Aid Street Mission. It is called “Caring between the Lines.” Right now they are seeking professional and amateur photographers to submit photos of a landmark, or beautiful scenery of London, Ontario. Selected images will be printed as high contrast black and white posters. When the exhibit takes place, which is said to be in May at the Arts Project, visitors can come in and colour in the images with crayons. They will be auctioned off and the proceeds go to the charity or non profit of the photographers choice. So I chose The New School of Colour and the Ark Aid Street Mission. Feel free to check out the following site, perhaps even submit a photo of your own!


What else? I finally handed in my transcript to Western University, and I am worried that my bad grades from a decade ago at Fanshawe College are going to put a damper on my application.

I sent off letters to the Northern Nishanawbe Education Council, as well as the Student Financial Assistance Branch so that I could be eligible for OSAP. I explained why I did so poorly than, why I think it is different now, and the I tried to explain what it is that I want to do. Although it is kind of hard to do when you aren’t 100% sure. I’m just letting my skills lead the way. University is just a stepping stone so that I can get a job that I can enjoy doing. Once I have that, I can start investing in what I really want to do; become a multi-media surrealist artist. Maybe even write a book, get it published.

So yeah, lots have been happening. I even caught a flu in there somewhere, and kicked it to the curb pretty fast. I am proud to say, I have a strong immune system. No flu shots necessary.

I have more hours booked as a floater at The Arts Project. I love volunteering there. The day I got my name tag, instead of one that just says “Volunteer” it says my name. Wow, I was so happy! Little things make me happy.

Oh yeah, I went to a one year old’s birthday party. I met a guy there that seems to be interested in me. I’m not sure if the feelings are mutual. I think I’m just interested in friendship to be honest. I haven’t replied to his last text message, he wanted hangout. I don’t want to lead him on. So yeah, no response. Awkwardness.

I just think I have a lot on my plate at the moment. Plus, if a guy were to date me. He’d have to accept me and all the baggage that comes with me. I’m a mom of two beautiful children, I will have to somehow co-parent with my ex, and well…he loves to make things difficult. Not to mention myself. I am my own worst enemy, I love to make things difficult for myself. It becomes apparent when you look at my art. So many details, you’d have to be insane to do it. He’d have to accept the possibility and responsibility of being a step parent. And I love my space, my “me” time. I have some serious mood swings, especially around my moon-time a.k.a period. He’s gonna need a lot of patience, because from my past experience, I give men the boot at least once a month and that is my “moon-time.”

Plus this guy doesn’t even know me, I’m just a quiet pretty face to him. He doesn’t know the spaz within. I’m completely emotional, and I express it in every form possible, beside verbally out loud. I admit, my communication skills need work.

And If I’m just a piece of meat to him, he can forget about it! I would much rather a guy get to know me first before I go making the same stupid nose diving mistakes as I have done with men in the past. I demand respect! Sure some men would call me a whore for not being so easy to get in bed. Yeah, that sure makes a lot of sense. I say that with the most sarcasm you could possibly imagine.

Anyway, tomorrow is Monday. It is back to the craziness that is my life. If I get my OW stub in the mail, I might be running to get a bus pass, then court, followed by an evening at the New School of Colour.

I am treating myself to KFC tonight, even though I may kick myself in the ass for it later. Money could have been used on whatever else. But whatever.  There is no point trying to budget the small amount of money I’m expected to live off of. $199. I’m just going to end up short and struggle anyway. So thank you to places like The Ark.

Sometimes it’s good to treat yourself to something out of the ordinary. It’s been ages since I have had KFC, I am going to have KFC.

Maybe if I had a job I would probably care about my budget. Maybe I wouldn’t be so careless. But years on the system, a good decade or so, you begin to despise money. Matter of fact you see things differently.  You appreciate little things.  You see the corruption money causes with a new set of eyes. It’s sad really, I’ve had men friends that truly believed they were worthless without a job, without money, and they are amazing people with or without it. It has created a gap. Some people I went to school with won’t even acknowledge me because I am on financial assistance. These people use to be friends. But no, they believe the illusion that money makes them better than I.

I think I’ve become pretty rich these last two years to be honest. I have friends, support,  we’re like an extended growing family. My sister, and Dad love me from a distance. I know, my dad “liked” a post of mine on Facebook on Family Day. “Happy Family Day! Even though I may not be with my children, they are in my thoughts.” It made me smile when I saw my dads name. So even though we don’t talk as much, haven’t since I moved. I know he’s still there, and so is my sister. Perhaps they are just patiently waiting, as I’ve been, for my children to return home. As for extended family, I am blessed to have so many people that want me in their lives. It’s true what they say, the best things in life are free. – Pooks

By pooks82

Chapter Closed

So clearly this friend saw the last post and ranted it about all over twitter. I only followed her on Twitter because it seemed like she didn’t rant there. Whoops! I was wrong.

This blog is just my perspective. Yes I said she was being manipulative, and that behavior was concerning. But what has she done since then? She offered to buy me groceries, she bought me a shirt,  she gave me her free coffee she won on roll up the rim. She’s been generous. It is kind of her, although considering it was our other friend that paid for her extra large mocha, and doughnut, the generosity should be directed at her. Not me.

Plus that blog post is in the past now as far as I’m concerned, so she’s just bringing up past issues that I’m completely over now. Sometimes if things are going too well, I try to seek reasons to be bitter. Like I don’t think I deserve to be happy, or have a good friendship. So if things are going well, I look for something wrong. Because in my fucked up mind, that can’t be right. Maybe subconsciously I like to give myself a challenge. Things seem too be going too smoothly, so let’s throw myself off coarse a bit. I do it to myself.

Note, I have been isolated for years, so I am slowly learning how to be social, and maintain friendships. Mingle with society. It’s been a rough road. I don’t trust easily. I constantly question it. That’s not her fault. Whatever happened to me in my own past has given me these habits and forms of thinking. It’s made me very cautious, and very critical.

Plus I naturally over think everything. Over thinking can lead to negativity. Which it has a number of times. So thanks to the friends that tolerate me, and my constant need to analyze shit.

No I do not hate her. She drives me nuts sometimes, but hey. So does my sister that I love very dearly. We’re just very different people. But there are things that bring us together, such as coffee, the new school of colour, the Ark, our friends, hockey,  and Jason Statham.

Yes, she’s freakin out because I called her an abuser. Which is normal. Anyone would. But she is in that cycle. Perhaps in denial. But whatever, it’s her journey, her life. I will let her go and let her live and figure shit out for herself.

I will try from now on not to say shit about her here in my blog if it bothers her that much. But she does the same to other people all over her Facebook. I guess she doesn’t like a taste of her own shit.

It’s not really worth it anyway. I have better things to write about. Which I will continue in the next post. This is my written closure towards the chapter of that friend. I’m not saying I won’t be friends with her, and saying that I will try not to write about her period.  Although I write about things that impact my life. If she’s one of those things, well maybe she needs to be less of an impact. I’ll point my focus else where. Even though she loves to be the center of attention, she won’t have mine. Besides a lot has been happening lately that I do need to write about.

So yes, good bye to the “cock eyed red head”, “the manipulator”, “the abuser”, the frantic “drama queen” that sneaked her way into my head and into this blog of mine, and onto better, more interesting things! – Pooks

By pooks82