I tend to preach, quiet a bit really.
So much so, that friends tend to tire of my sociological promises and I don’t know what I even mean anymore.
I mean yes, everything comes from a good place.
A good heart,
A good moment,
A loving thought.
These days, I fall silent. I mean really? Who am I to give answers?
I
Me
She, who has been hiding behind her own false calculations,
behind her own formulation of mediocrity,
Who am I?
I know
Scribble makes my soul dance,
and my friends makes my soul sing, and
Alex Fury is Versailles king,
and Shilingford is stylist princess
and I am merely a chambermaid.
I know I want nothing more than to live in London*
to holdiay in a shire
to rave in Ibiza
and to mumble pleasantries with Mr.Hack
and to one day,
maybe
if the Lord would bless me,
perhaps have even a fraction of my
childish dreams come true.
Perhaps.
For I am Kiwi,
and I dream massively always.
despite prejudice and time
i pray this moment
will lead me to higher ground.
So I keep my fingers crossed.
Till then,
it’s my cocoa skin,
afro hair
doc martens
anarchy
and ninja stars
slicing my thoughts of love and peace
seeking peace
and creative lust through these
more than desperate times.
