Throughout my thirteen years of school, I was the kid on the left. I was called names, thrown to the floor, punched in the head and ultimately taught of my inferiority. However, the defining moment happened during a camp. I was in the bathroom taking a shower and a few of the other kids stole my clothes. After an hour of unreciprocated screaming, I realised what had to be done. I ran out the bathroom and into the main hallway. Everyone stood in the doorways laughing as my bare bottom sprinted to safety. From that day forth, I swore an oath to introversion. I would become one of the shadows on the wall because nobody notices them and thus they are left alone.
The oath was broken in my senior years of high school. I managed to muster some confidence and stop hiding. I made new friends, went to parties, joined clubs and somehow found my voice. I think when everyone is on the brink of adulthood, bullying becomes a habit of the past. Maturity shows them that difference should be celebrated, not persecuted. Based on this, I thought that the end of school would bring about the end of bullying. I was stupid. Continue Reading
Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to take something that isn’t yours? You must have had a pretty shit Mother because you took me. I wasn’t yours. I don’t know who I belonged to exactly… but it wasn’t you. It doesn’t matter anymore. You still took me from my house when I was watching cartoons. I miss cartoons. They reminded me that I was a child… you remind me that I’m tight. I have never given such thought to someone the way I have to you. I want to take your black hair and rip it from your scalp. Maybe I’ll smile like you’re always telling me to. I want to run a knife across your crotch and watch as your eyes widen. Maybe I’ll let out a giggle or two. I want to dig at your chest and see what I have always known. There is no heart in that body of yours… just an endless supply of semen. I must get rid of it all. We can’t have another one of you running around. I’m sick of these third legs sticking themselves in places they are not welcome. That’s rather satisfying actually. I still know what is wrong and you my dear Johnny are wrong.
I wish with my entirety that I could endorse New Zealand’s mental health system. However, in doing so I would be lying and deception is not welcome here. This blog is without censorship and everything I write is based on personal experience and opinion. Therefore, I will hold nothing back when describing New Zealand’s most inadequate system.
‘Perpetuation’ is the word of focus. It is defined as making something longer or continuing it. As someone who has delved into New Zealand’s mental health system on more than one occasion, I believe that perpetuation is its rightful definition. People are diagnosed with illness and the system takes illness and makes it immortal. Continue Reading
If you haven’t yet tortured yourself with the latest episode of ‘The Walking Dead’, I suggest abstaining from this article. However, if you did indeed watch it, firstly I want to offer you my condolences and secondly, my honest thoughts.
I grew up with horror films. Judge my parents all you want but I have always been infatuated by evil. I think I was about nine when I watched the first ‘Saw’ instalment. That being said, no horror film could have prepared me for the absolute fuckery that the season 7 premiere of ‘The Walking Dead’ displayed. Continue Reading
It has nearly been seven years since his departure. That is 2555 days without a Dad. I cannot illustrate to you the perpetual pain of my soul. However, I can share the story of my Dad’s suicide and how a single death managed to determine the future of many lives.
Suicide is a selfish act. This is something that we all know. In destroying yourself, you destroy those who love you. Nevertheless, I am not ignorant. I understand the adeptness of life and how a simple pull of a trigger, tug of a rope or handful of pills, can bring about immediate peace. Just because I understand it though, that does mean I condone it. I could never condone the behaviour of a coward. Especially when the coward fathers children. Continue Reading
A one-night holiday is the kind of holiday that would dissatisfy most. Within 24 hours you must travel to the destination, unpack, find your bearings, experience the local activities, find places to eat, relax, pack, tidy the accommodation and then travel back to home-base. The more I think about it, the less holiday-like it becomes. Nevertheless, there are times when life becomes a heavy taxation and thus the only solution is escape. That is exactly how my boyfriend and I found ourselves at Mandhari Cottage Bed & Breakfast in Whangamata. Continue Reading
There are many spells that bow before me but none that can rid my heart of this wound. Duny was a peculiar child. He came to me at a time that I felt nothing and brought to me the capacity to feel everything. He was not like his mother and if I ever did believe in miracles, that was the reason why. That woman was a despicable product of humanity and her death was well deserved. Nevertheless, I should have realised that apples don’t fall far from the tree. I gave to Duny the language of magic and he left me without a goodbye. I should have known better though… Men have nothing to give, only women to take.
There was a time where my hands did good. I blessed the crops, cured illness, brought the sun and smiled. That time has passed though. I am now a withered woman that sits in my cave, stirs my cauldron and becomes the witch the villagers see me to be. The life I have led has made me resilient but I now know that resilience only exists because my heart is cold. The villagers throw things at me and feel nothing. Yesterday a piece of timber came at my head and I turned to it, eyes wide open, and welcomed the hate. I am content with being seen as nothing because to myself, I am nothing. Continue Reading
If I am being completely honest, I have visited Sunflower Thai Restaurant over twenty times. That in itself should be indicative of its brilliance but because I will use any excuse to eat there, I decided to return with a friend and write a review.
Firstly, this restaurant is 100% vegan. Many of you may have read that sentence and are now directing the cursor to click off this page. I urge you to stop. Contrary to mainstream belief, 100% vegan does not always mean 100% rabbit food. Just because no animal products are used in the creation of their food, that does not mean that they have had to compromise on edibility. In fact, their menu features 77 dishes. If veganism truly is restrictive and bland then please explain their ability to construct such a menu. Continue Reading
Shortland Street has been on our screens for twenty-five years now. That’s twenty-five years of sometimes mediocre acting, love triangles, absurd Christmas cliff-hangers, know-it-all receptionists and above all… Chris Warner. The fact that it has managed to survive for this long must be indicative of some kind of greatness. What kind of greatness though? Definitely not the kind that we associate with television shows such as Game of Thrones, Grey’s Anatomy, Breaking Bad and Suits. No… definitely not. However, there has to be some reason for it being one of the most loved television shows in New Zealand. Continue Reading