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lackofevolution

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Until We Share

1 min read

Sit here holding a sore hand, my so called friend Andy attacked me several months ago when I confronted him about him beating his much younger boy friend. he reacted with anger and I ended going through a window. days in hospital shaking with such fear; thought I would lose two fingers plus was surrounded by strangers touching me. hid my tears till no one was looking.

 

In more happier news I have spoken with some family on facebook, first time in years and believe I could once again have a family or at least friends that wont attack me. Still living in the boarding house and writing poetry which I hope to share on deviantart. usual topics such as child abuse, war and mental health......will try load some over the next week.

Sorry to those people that have text me or made comments etc while I was gone, thank you for enjoying my work and sharing the expressions u all have. hugs and hope to continue.  

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Until We Speak

3 min read
The shadow on my wall sits and accepts its life and my choices, but i question.

2012 has come with ample warning yet the tears I hide behind my painted smiles waits to be released. My birthday has passed and thus the memory of my mother and sisters grave disappearing beneath the build up of time. I miss them and they way that made me feel; complete. I accept their deaths but struggle with the gift I have known as life. I live in a boarding house in a area known for drugs and crime, the people I live with are respectful mostly, to my face but I know that when I'm not there they judge what they resist to understand; my sexuality and my depression and social anxiety. I give them what assets and efforts I can afford to give but their respect, or at least their tolerance of me continues to avoid me.

I returned to TAFE and was informed that my presence there is no longer an option, I know they mean well, that they want me to focus on finding a new job rather than living in the past and helping them for free. money is sadly an issue that has risen. A new job would change that but the fear of change, the fear of the unknown motivates me to hide in my room with only my depression for company. I don't like my house or the way in which I'm living however, because it is familiar I accept and refuse to change my situation.

My poetry continues to be born without my effort, my pieces jump from my mind to paper with out much thought, both a good and bad thing. good for I'm continuing to express my anger and regret from the moments of my past, some thrown at me and some that I created my own. Bad for some emotional pieces are written but without my thought the emotions associated with those pieces remain in my mind, fighting for a way to escape even if for just a moment on ignorance.

I made a new friend, the first one in years last Christmas. Have spent time with him and have enjoyed out talks and meaningful exchanges. But like most aspects to life and communication there is a down side; as he learns of my past and the pain I carry he has given pity and that pity becomes anger, for I hold on to the pain and hide behind it. I don't work anymore, I don't have large group of friends or a family and the less said about the illusion of love the better. My life is empty and that is partiality my fault, I accept that. His anger stems from the assumption that I have great social skills, a sense of humor and am motivated and reliable once I create a routine, Angry for despite these possible abilities I choose to live in a situation that is hurting me and choosing to hide from life knowing that I will wake up on my twenty seventh birthday and still lack the basics that I want yet do nothing to obtain now.

If you made it this far than I thank you .. . . . . . .

Until we speak . . . . . . .
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Until We Speak

1 min read
to those on my lise that i do speak with, to those that read and enjoy my work, i thank u for the strengh u remind me of, the strength that i have hiding inside of my frail skin. since christmas i havent been to tafe, im no longer welcomed there so must find another way to share my poetry and thoughts, im coping well just been little sad with tafe no loner in my routine but no i will find a way to better my life.

have written another fifty poems since chrstmas and cant wait to share them with my friends on here, like usual they are abstract, or confronting or well, dealing with issues most refuse to talk about.

until then i have on question, did god have to pay child support for jesus? abstract, i know.
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Novemeber the first was the anniversary of my mother passing, the seventh reminder that I cant hug her when I need, that I cant seek her advice when I need it or smile the way only a mother can make you smile. I accept her death but I hate that I feel alone and isolated at home, I make my self something to eat and know she wont be at the table to share a meal, I wash my clothes for I know if I leave them she isn't there to help me out.

As a result I have had trouble sleeping, in the last 15days there have been 6nights when I haven't slept, instead have sat up late staring at a wall that doesn't move and a knife that tries to hide from me. My housemates go through their daily routines and fial to notice my facial expressions and the sound of my crying at night. I know there not obligated to help me or even care, but what they don't relies is that for the past year they are the only people I communciate with outside of where im doing volunter work.

My job at tafe ended 6months a go but I still show up and help out with what I can for I have the need to feel useful and appreciated, which all the staff and students make me feel in their own way.

I've been seeing a councillor for the past 8weeks or so, he is a smart man that challanges my thought patterns and makes me think deeply, tomorrow will be my last session with him as the government wont pay for anymore. I'm fearful to show up for I want to continue but can't.

I smile at times but like a painting in a museum it's there for you to see, I laught at times but those sounds are the radio on a trip to the store, you can hear it but your to busy focusing on the road and your journey. I get angry however like a baby crying its an automatic response. I still have hope but like a childs innosence I know it will eventualy be put on the shelf and forgotten.
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Within shadows I hide, I fear the world for the way I assume they will view me. I have been out of work for two months despite my efforts to become the man that contributes to the city he lives in. My depression grows each day I sit at home and think, I understand the way I view myself in only half the truth, my depression causes me to hear the negatives as strong words and postives as the whispers that hide behind them. however because thats my perception life becomes harder to except, self harm has returned back to the consistency it was when I started 13years ago which does scare me, it no longer hurts it actually is the only thing inn my life right now that gives strenght, dare I say it feels good. My family still hide behind the landscape, it will take one call to see them but I fear their perception of our past, my little step brother still wants to hurt me, he went as far as saying that he wished I had died rather then our mother, he has hes reasons and I starting to think that I should return to the other side of melbourne to give him a chance to hurt me just so i can move on from his words or so I can hurt him for his words. mum remains as a grave that i cant find, her details are with my family and I fear their judgement even if it means that I can see her resting place, I want to cry on her grave. My father remains as a shadow of danger that I want to destroy, I am not the violent person but fear that if I ran into him I would hurt him for what he did to me older sister, my twin sister and finally in third place, for what he did to me. I want to punish him for ever saying that he loved his kids, for he did everything but love his kids and now that were not there he has started a new family and I fear that he will restart his version of love. I dont think I can stop him without putting him in hospital and I dont know if I have the right to do that or the right to do nothing with the information and assumptions I have.

thanks for reading, venting helps me deal with depression and the judgement I get for being gay, a white aborginal and my lack of evolution.
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