The End

Hi again.
So now that we supposedly patch things up over the weekend. My supposed man is now creating various social media accounts. Kinda creepy. Considering he’s not all that interested in social media. But I guess he wants to find my last blog post as a reason to get upset again. Even though we’re supposedly on good terms, let’s go find something regarding our past to dwell on and get pissy all over again! So yeah, we’re not 100% okay. Things are still a bit rocky.
Not to mention these sudden new accounts come across as being controlling and possesive. Ya know? Stalk me online to make sure I stay in line or something.
I’m allowed to think. I’m allowed to feel what I feel. And I am allowed to fuckin express it!
So all these new accounts online kinda shows that I am not trusted. Without trust we have nothing. But he says he’s just curious to what I am saying.He probably won’t like what he sees. But hey! As I told others, if you don’t like what you’re reading, and you know it’s about you, then be a positive in my life. Not a negative.
Yes I may use my exes past behavior as a prime example of everything I don’t want. And maybe having alcohol and a baby in the house is triggering some shit. A part of me is terrified things will just repeat itself and I will lose another child to another white man. Even though I AM the sober and drug-free one.
Ya know? Before our daughter was born, I thought I would be okay with this supposed “casual” or “social” drinking thing. But clearly I’m not. It throws me in for a loop of fear, and paranoia.
However, over the weekend, my supposed man didn’t drink, and he spent time with his daughter. After I dumped him of coarse. Then he’ll straighten up. But I guess supposedly, I need to speak up, and not be afraid to ask for help. I shouldn’t have to ask. And what if its not help I need. I just wanted him to spend time with his daughter. He should be willing to take time out of his day for his daughter regardless. His time is more valuable than anything he has to offer, or that his money can buy. She, or anyone for that matter, values moments. Moments create memories. Memories can be cherished and are more meaningful than any material thing.
Perhaps years of being on and off OW taught me that. Poverty taught me that.  The Ark and the people I met there taught me that, including the homeless.
So yeah. Thank him for spending time with his daughter this weekend. That was all I wanted. If he has been before, and I just didn’t notice. Sorry. I’m just expressing my perspective, and from what I saw, it was like we were avoided.
As for the constant cleaning, we came to the conclusion that it is his OCD.So yeah, if I don’t speak up, he will just continue to constantly clean because it is never ending. I mean, the sink will just refill with dishes, laundry will just re-pile. Makes sense. Since before our daughter was even born, the only way I could get his attention away from housework, was sex. And look what happened. We now have a daughter, and it’s not like our daughter can do the same to distract him for time. So yeah, the chores can wait sometimes. Or as he displayed this weekend, he can do chores and spend time with our daughter at the same time. Ya know? It is possible. He had put her swing in the kitchen, and as he did chores, she sat on her swing and watched him. Maybe one day, she’ll woddle over and try to help. Lol
Anyways, apparently a rehabilitation Centre from Toronto called him at work today…They talked and say he doesn’t have a drinking problem…That’s reassurring. However when we were arguing about it, he’ll sure defend that shit. And when I told him that I wanted alcohol out for good, what did he do? He stormed out of the room. That really upset him.
But he did come back and say that he wouldn’t be able to afford alcohol anyways if we move to this new place together. It would be like a fresh start. So I am giving him another chance.
However, if we end up arguing about alcohol there. That’s it. I’ll put a stop to it quick and leave with our daughter. She doesn’t need to be in the middle of that. Nor do my other 2 children. So yeah, he’s been warned.
As for his older sister. She just made it awkward for herself the next time we come face to face, because now I know how she really feels about me and my man and I’s daughter. Saying she’s not his. Or “doesn’t even look like him”. So she thinks I’m a slut or something eh?! HA! Let’s see if she can say it to my face next time. If you ask me, she’s the stupid one to think my man wouldn’t tell me. Smh.
Anyways, with this new place we plan on moving into together…yes the budget will be tight. My man ( or supposed man. Whatever. Things are still a bit rocky) says he won’t be able to afford to drink, and to make ends meet he may have to take extra jobs. So yeah. I want to help keep things afloat. But like I said many times, London doesn’t hire natives. So I got to think of another way of making income, besides my art. Which sells the odd time. It’s not stable income. I was thinking of being a surveyer. Actually I made an attempt, but that wasn’t working. As I was trying to fill out a survey, my daughter would swat at my cell phone and close the survey. So perhaps being a surveyer with a squirmy baby with energy isn’t the thing for me.
My man suggested a home business. Refurbishing hardwood furniture, and even painting art on them. Maybe, but even that will take time to get the ball rolling.
So I was thinking, another way would be to get paid to write. Either I can get paid to continue to blog. This could be the last one here, and I could start a new domain, a continuation, where subscribers pay, or donate. Not sure how things work business wise on WordPress… but I’ll look into it.
Or… The continuation will come in the form of a book that maybe I could sell on Amazon. I published a book before, on Lulu, and yeah. I don’t make anything off it.
Either way, this may be the last blog post here.
I enjoy writing, so yeah. It’s worth a shot.
And maybe, just like my son, change scares me. I have lived in this house for 5 years, and now I have no choice but to leave. I got comfortable and cozy here, but it is unsafe, and it’s a health hazzard. So yeah. It’s another one of those times where I leap into the unknown. But if I hadn’t leaped before, I wouldn’t have come across the New School of Colour, and that place provided me with a wonderful healing experience. So yeah, good things could be coming if I take another leap.
Soon it will be; Good bye EOA!, and hello to a new beginning. -Pooks

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Altering Out of the Blue – Part 2

More writing…because I am thinking over what happened as of recently.

I am disturbed by this now ex- friend’s rejection, ignorance, and lack of support. Quite honestly that hurts. There’s 2 sides to every story and clearly mine isn’t valued. My perspective of the situation, my thoughts, she clearly doesn’t give a fuck about. Ouch.

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I am a very honest person. I gave a clear warning numerous times; If I haven’t offended you yet, give it time.

I guess she can’t support 2 friends, she can only support one. Wow, that is fuckin bullshit. She was supportive to both me and the person I referred to as the cock-eyed red head when we had our issues….kinda. In a cowardly way. Sitting on the fence….not really supporting either. Although, she said she just tolerated this other person, and didn’t really like her. So maybe the same applies with me. Hm, weren’t we fuckin stupid? This whole friendship was just a charade, it’s fake. And unfortunately like a fool, I fell for it. I mean, if she can fake it so well with this other person, whose to say she wasn’t just pretending to be a friend to me? Just “tolerating” me, and not really liking me. She’s not the type of person to say that to your face, because she is in deed a coward. Instead, she’ll gossip behind your back amongst her “friends”. I was there when she gossiped about others. So yeah. It’s kinda like that thought I had a long time ago regarding my ex and his thief life style. About how stupid I am for not thinking a thief wouldn’t steal from me. The same can be applied to this little group of gossipers. Pretty stupid to think a gossiper wouldn’t gossip about me.

I’m not a part of their circle. “The Cock-Eyed Red Head”  isn’t a part of their circle. Perhaps it’s a circle not worth being in.

It’s funny, because last month I was warned not to sit at that table by someone this ex-friend dislikes, her boyfriends ex. Considering how many people dislike that girl, ya know? She may have been right. I’m sure that little group is talking now. They got new material, me! Yaaaay!

I’m not as upset as I was Tuesday, and yesterday. I’m starting to get over it. Writing does help. Friends like that probably are better off not keeping around anyways. The ones worth keeping are the ones that stick with me throughout my journey. They don’t deak just because they’re offended. I mean, my perspectives have changed towards religion, and I still have two Christian friends that love me anyways. Even though they are distant, as in a completely different province, they’re still there. And trust me, I’ve said some shit that would probably offend a lot of the religious type. I have offended some of the religious type obviously, heck, I had a pastor use my blog as material for sermons. Haha! Pooks, you genius.

A lot of my support isn’t local. For example, the Kings, my birth family. I’m in touch with them online. They’re more supportive than the family that I actually do have here. My Uncle through adoption, in Quebec. Huge support from him. He is a Pooks fan, and hopes to one day own an original painting done by me. Hopefully some day he will.

I guess in times of loss, you just need to keep in mind of the people who are there. Who have been there, supporting, and haven’t left over stupidity.  Nor do they hold my  thoughts and feelings against me.

I have however, come in contact again with an art friend, who challenges my thinking. Not necessarily holding my thoughts against me, but more like trying to get me to broaden my horizons. It’s encouraging. It’s not a negative, if anything a positive, to think even deeper than I have been.

Making friends isn’t exactly easy for me. It takes me a long time to open up and trust people. Sometimes I feel like I am shown more reasons on why not to trust, than reasons why I should trust. I take a lot of time to listen and observe, and try to make sure that I am secure with whomever I am associating with, and my surroundings. However, I can clearly still be deceived. That bothers me. I disappoint myself that way. I should be more alert, and aware.

Yesterday at my Leads appointment, we were talking about empathy. Apparently I care too much. Although, I am told not to be ashamed of it, it is a rare gift. Sadly not many people are empathetic these days. So yeah, it is a blessing and a curse. I get hurt way too often. I am hurt by things outside of myself. Hurt by things happening to other people.  I see and notice things that maybe most people are too naive or ignorant to even notice is happening.

Anyway, next week, I am going to learn how to “control it”…if that’s even possible. We shall see.

I’ve always said I was very in tune with my emotions. That’s just the tip of the ice berg of how to describe it. I am sensitive to energy. Which is why I normally try to avoid the negative energy, because when I absorb it, I tend to feel like a kettle ready to boil over. Not very pleasant. So it’s got to somewhere, because it’s dangerous. Hence, my art. It’s a good place to put whatever the fuck I absorb.

I need genuine optimistic people in my life. That’s what I need. Not the fake ones that say they are, pretend they are, then go surrounding themselves with toxicity. Manipulated into pity parties like a remote to a t.v. Nope, I am not a part of that. I’m not so easily controlled in that sense. Nor am I blind to it. But maybe some people are addicted to that kind of mind fuck. I don’t know. Not allowed to play with this one, sorry!

Anyway, this journey only goes forward. And as much as I may wonder, where is this journey  taking me? That is a silly question. The journey is taking me to my death. So I need to make the best of the ride in between. The pain will mold and prepare me for whatever comes next. I will just get stronger. So thanks and cheers to the pain! Transitions are never easy. – Pooks

“Our wounds are often the openings into the best and most beautiful part of us.”- David Richo

Altering Out of the Blue

I know that it was suggested that maybe I should write about the police brutality going on in the world. But yeah, everybody else is doing that. Heck, it’s all over FB. And this blog is for the people that actually want to know what goes on in my head. So yeah, I’m gonna write about whatever the fuck I want. Whatever comes to mind. If you don’t approve, tough shit. These are my thoughts, and I take full responsibility for them.

It seems like a lot of these supposed suggestions or constructive criticism, if you want to call it that, just kind of belittles what I’m doing. Note, I don’t take criticism lightly. I tend to take things personally because I analyze and think over what has been said after the fact.  How does this criticism make me feel afterward? Do I feel good about it? Lately… no. That is not the case. My art for example, you “should” paint it like this. You can’t see what I envision in my head so stop trying to take control and power over my shit, and worry about your own shit. That includes this blog. That’s like telling me what to think, because that’s what this is basically, a narration of my thoughts.

It seems like people try so hard to be the one to direct me. Maybe you can’t. Maybe I’m just too fucked up. I don’t know. I think it’s insulting. And if they’re not doing that, they’re trying to do so discreetly, by using my blog as their form of resource. These are my thoughts, fuck off will ya?! It’s not illegal to think, so stop acting like it. Live your own damn life. Geez! It’s like the people that try to do this, are often people that don’t even have their own life in order. So yeah, fuck off!

Dark Pheonix - Artist Unknown. / I chose this picture just because it kinda depicts how I feel sometimes. Kinda like the Pheonix's rage from X-men, an enormous amount of energy. - Pooks

Dark Pheonix – Artist Unknown. / I chose this picture just because it kinda depicts how I feel sometimes. Kinda like the Pheonix’s rage from X-men, an enormous amount of energy. – Pooks

Anyway, onto other drama, yesterday at The Ark, I sat down for dinner with a group of friends. At least I thought they were my friends. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I haven’t really been considered a part of their group for awhile now. I don’t know. Anyway, I was sitting there talking to the guy beside me as he showed me his electronics. And the woman in the scooter that has been going to The Ark for years now, she was showing her craft stuff. So I started shooting off ideas. Making suggestions of possible future projects she could do. If anything, I was just trying to inspire her. And what does she do?? Oh everybody is too fuckin happy, time to cry and make it a pity party focused on her. And she snaps at me. What the fuck? I sure as hell didn’t deserve that. That was uncalled for. And if you ask me, I think she’s a manipulative, controlling, cunt. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. It’s like I can’t laugh around her. If I make others laugh, she will turn it into a moment where it’s about her. A time to be sad for her. I cannot stand that. I cannot stand people like that. So yeah, I got up, skipped my meal, and left the table. Fuck her bullshit!

You’d think she’d be happy for her friends are happy. Nope. Not her. That’s not allowed. You can only be happy when she’s happy. And I hate seeing my friends joy and laughter be robbed like that. But I guess that’s what they prefer. Good riddance then.

Today, I seen that someone I thought was a friend of mine since 2011 deleted me off of Facebook. Thanks, that says a lot of what kind of friend you are. So I deleted every picture I ever took of her over the years, and blocked her and her little group of friends, and her boyfriend. Obviously, I’m not a part of that group. Thanks for letting me know. Don’t I feel fuckin stupid for ever thinking I was?!

I don’t think I did anything wrong. But clearly Ducky seems to think so. I mean yeah, I expressed my frustration on FB regarding this other woman, not mentioning any names. I believe I’m allowed to do that. But once again, I’m shown, oh no no no, I’m not. Not like many people knew what the fuck, or who the fuck I was talking about. I guess it was too offensive for her pathetic sensitive little eyes, even though it’s not directed at her. Fuckin pathetic. It’s regarding this other woman she’s friends with, that clearly has a problem with me. I can’t do shit with out her bitching and complaining about it. But whatever, she supports this other friend, and not me, that couldn’t be made anymore apparent.

So the Christmas ritual is out of the question, that thing we did for a couple of years now. Gathering around Christmas for dinner, I am out. I’m not gonna go. Why go somewhere and celebrate with a fake ass friend? She’s more supportive to this manipulative bitch, then she is towards me. So yeah, fuck her. Fuck their Christmas dinner, Fuck going to the Vendors Fair at EVAC to support her craft shit. My Ducky shrine is going in the trash. If you can easily turn your back on a friendship like that, then yeah, your shit is trash to me.

No point in keeping in touch with Ducky’s circle of friends. No need to make it awkward for anyone else. So yeah, good-bye.

I have trouble maintaining friendships as is. This whole socializing thing is like a crash coarse to me. Note I was isolated majority of my life. So excuse me if I notice shit, and don’t understand why you do what you do to each-other. There is a reason I call myself an alien. I observe, and wonder what the fuck?! Or maybe I just like people less and less, I don’t know. I don’t like the controlling type, I don’t like the manipulative type, I don’t like people that just try to take advantage… I don’t like needy, selfish people. I prefer no restraints, especially after getting out of two  abusive relationships, one followed by another. Probably why I haven’t moved on into a new intimate relationship. I flat out don’t trust people. How the fuck can I?!

And that’s the thing…when I look at the bigger picture, it’s like 99% of the worlds population is being abused by the 1%. Now I already know that you cannot force someone out of that kind of “relationship”. Been there, tried that, on a more micro personal level. Doesn’t work. The person, or people, in this case have to be ready and willing. And unfortunately, a lot of the people are too scared to rise up. They fear the “consequence”. They fear the change. So yeah, majority of the population are cowards. They’ve been scared shitless by the people in power, all they do is hide in their homes.

That may be another thing. I have been changing over the years, I think my perspectives have altered in a way where I have been socializing more with activists that share the same concerns. So, maybe I have been drifting away from that circle of “friends”, and moving onto …something else.

This journey, wherever the fuck it’s taking me, can get pretty damn lonely sometimes. People don’t understand where the fuck I’m coming from. And even though I do feel alone sometimes, I know there are other people out there that can relate. It can feel hopeless and depressing at times.

I understand now that I am not the only one that experiences anxiety and depression by the outside world. It’s only natural to feel that way being forced into a system that only benefits the wealthy. The wealthy will try to stigmatize that, only because we aren’t delusional believing in their false illusions of their made-up world. We can see shit for what it really is. So the way I see it, there is nothing wrong with us, there is something wrong with them. They fooled themselves into thinking that this is the way it’s meant to be, and we are realizing that it’s bullshit.

You want me to rant about cops when I have not had any personal experience?! Thank goodness. Let’s hope that never happens, especially the way things are going, or have been going longer than we realize. All I have to go by is what you tell me, and the shit load of disturbing videos I see on FB. It’s a bit of a conflict for me. My Uncle was a cop, and yeah, I should be proud of that. But when I see that the majority of the people being beaten or killed by the police are people of colour, that tends to make it difficult to be proud of my Uncles past employment. He is retired now. But it just makes me think. How long has this been going on? Does it just seem more regular because of how easily things can spread worldwide through the web these days? I don’t think so. Something tells me this has been going on for longer than we think, we just weren’t as aware. Why is it the moment these officers put on a uniform, they forget that they too are human as well? Their just doing their job, right? The shit people do for money is stupid. Forget humanity, compassion, and empathy, leave your heart at home. Seriously, the shit all over social media of our officers not protecting and serving the people, more like beating and killing the people, is disturbing , discriminating and shouldn’t go on ignored. Why is it legal to do this? Why do cops get away with beating women, and men? Better yet, why do they get away with murder?

It’s that fuckin delusional division of social classes again. The higher you supposedly are, the more you get away with apparently. Money. I fuckin hate that shit. As far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t make you any better or privileged than any other human being. Get over yourselves, you fuckin nut cases! You’re still a human being, like it or not. You are as human as the next coloured person you see, the next homeless person you see, the next child, elder, gay, straight, female or male, so on and so forth You’re not that different. You do however have your own unique gift to offer to the world, but thanks to this fucked up system, you’d be lucky to even share that because you’re a slave to that selfish 1%. You allow them to continue to use, and abuse you for their own benefits.

As for the police uniforms, they seem to symbolize power, and yeah, officers are getting carried away and abusing that power. Maybe we should strip them and remind them they are human. But that idea probably would get people arrested for sexual assault, and the message wouldn’t get through. So screw that. It’s just a thought. And now it’s out there. Maybe it’ll get some of these people to actually think for a change.

But then again, as a native woman, it seems as though that I can’t trust the police, especially if that’s the way they are going to treat people of colour. I can’t trust doctors (they’ll accuse you of being a crackhead, when you really have a breast infection, and call C.A.S on your ass. That is a personal experience.), I cannot trust C.A.S ( Modern day residential schools if you ask me. Taking children away from their native roots) , the churches, the educational system, or any organization within the system. They are not here for me, they’re against me. At least, that’s what I have come to understand.

Newho, Getting sidetracked… I know, people would rather read about my personal life, rather than what i see out there. Whatever. I’m gonna write about whatever. And it will probably bounce around from thought to thought, because that’s just how my mind works. Deal with it.

With my efforts to socialize, and make friends, I struggle with the drama of other peoples lives. I don’t burden people with mine, but I guess not all people are like that. I don’t want my friends to suffer because I am suffering. I’m the kind of person that would rather make an effort to make people laugh, despite whatever fuckin shit I may be going through. That’s for me to figure out. And people say I’M SELFISH?! HA!! Maybe they need to look up that definition again.

So yeah…more bridges burned. Can’t really say I am the least bit surprised. I should be used to it by now. People come, and people go, as always. Very few stick around.

I’m not exactly the most popular, well liked person. I tend to make a lot of enemies at a rapid pace. Popularity was never my intention anyways. Although this identity as Pooks (the writer and artist) seems to be becoming well known more and more. Thank you by the way. I didn’t really think I was that interesting, but for some reason people read this, and follow.

So yeah, another shift in life. Wondering who the fuck really are my friends? And who isn’t? Some proven not to be. Thank you for that. Life has a funny way of altering out of the blue. – Pooks

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