Hello everyone.
I hope you all are having a magnificent week. I assume you all are not being too hard on yourselves and giving yourself some room for failure, as failure is a big part of the human experience.
My week has been very busy so far and I have a bit of a break for two days, so I guess I’ll do this in one sitting as I need to do some chores and family activities before I’m back at work.
Technically my private time is shared between two things. Riding my bikes or doing something creative. These things I find meditative and they also give me personal meaning, and as I mentioned before, life is predominantly about finding personal meaning.
The Goblin of Strange and Uncertain Times is back to fuck up our lives I notice. He has emerged from the bushes with cock in his palm and started spunking in our faces again. New Zealand is still doing well for now, but we are dropping our guard a bit I’ve noticed. But for those who live in countries that are now battling the new wave, stick to the rules put forth by the experts.
And for the many who are in denial and using Religion as a means of solution, stop putting whatever God you believe in to the test, you absolute fucking moron.
So with the Cheeky Chest Wrestler and the burning down of the American Empire, I’m going to provide a much needed bit of escapism for myself and for those who choose to read on.
What I am about to pen is inspired by me riding to work and back and forth fourteen times over the last seven days. I have been listening to some old 80’s and 90’s music inside my helmet on my nearly acquired Bluetooth headset. It is not a true story just in case the copyright police decide to send me dick pics to my DM’s.
Before I begin.
This blog is funded by you, the reader. Although I don’t have any advertisers anymore, I still urge you to donate to the Patreon. If you can afford it, please do. But if you cannot, then that is also OK. This blog is cathartic for me and my ambition is not a financial one, but it does feel good getting paid for something I enjoy. And if you enjoy it and you are in a position to donate, don’t be a shit cunt. I put loads of work into it.
https://www.patreon.com/Blacksheepwriting?fan_landing=true
Fast Car
“My road to becoming the woman I am is not an easy one. As I mentioned before, I was blessed with a talent that allowed me a way out. Not everyone, especially women, are given the opportunity to break out of a life that does not seem like it is worth living.
All of us, at every minute of the day is faced with a burning bifurcation in the path. Some of them seem inconsequential, some do seem to have loads of consequences.
You meet a stranger in a bar. What do you do? Do you go with him or do you stay?
Your boss offers you a promotion. You know that such a decision will rapidly change the speed at which you live your life.
There is comfort in mundanity. It doesn’t even matter if that mundanity is uncomfortable. What we seek is routine and consistency.
The day I chose my path could’ve gone either way, and I knew this. I found content in my uncomfortability. It was the story of my young life. Toxic masculinity was where I found my mundanity and it has become the biggest contributor to my so-called success.
I’ll tell you a little bit about it.
I used to love playing guitar, as I do now. I didn’t have any real musical ambitions, I had nothing at that point in my life and I had nothing to prove to anyone.
We had an unstrung guitar at home that I used to practice chord shapes on, however I only played when I was at school. We had a music department and I spent so much time in there before I was forced to leave.
I was sixteen when my Mom left my Dad. I remember this as it was a few days after my birthday. My Mom was a good woman. She always wanted the best for us, something that my Dad could not provide. And not only could he not provide it, he was a bit of a hindrance and a liability for her motherly ambitions. She didn’t have much choice.
You see, he was an alcoholic. At the age of forty his body was so bad that he was unable to work. He had such extreme liver damage that he developed a type of adult jaundice that was impossible to treat without him refusing to give up the booze.
So I decided it was my duty to leave school and look after him.
I got a job at the market as a checkout girl to support him. I did this for two whole years, just working and paying bills. My only bit of escape was coming home and practicing guitar chords on the unstrung guitar.
I met the father of my kids while working at the market. This was not long before my Dad died that same year.
As you can see, I’m not the best looking lady, so when he offered to give me a ride home, I jumped into the seat as quickly as I could. I don’t even remember what kind of car it was, all I know is that it was really fast. We went so fast, that I felt like I was drunk. I don’t even know what being drunk feels like. I have been teetotaller my whole life because of what I saw my Dad go through. The speed at which we travelled made me feel like I was free for the first time and being with him gave me a deep sense of belonging.
He picked me up again the next day, and the next. Always just driving and speeding. I absolutely loved it. I also absolutely fell in love with him. I became his girl and I was finally happy.
Then my Dad died and I had to move out of the government house we lived in. So I took my unstrung guitar and the rest of my items and I was forced to move into the shelter. The father of my kids moved in with me.
He knew what I loved, he knew what my escape was. So most nights he would drive his fast car out on the stretch of road that runs parallel to the city. With his right arm over my shoulder and the other on the wheel I would watch the city lights blur past me and get that drunk feeling. I felt safe in his arm. It was my happy place, the only place I felt that I belonged.
Sometimes we would park on top of the hill that overlooked the city. We would talk about our future. He wasn’t working at that time and he would say that he will find a job. My plan was to get promoted at the convenience store I now worked at. I already had quite a bit of savings that was going to help us move out of the shelter and buy a house in the suburbs.
I got pregnant with my first child and things were not looking good, but I stuck to it. When my second was born, we had still not moved out from the shelter. When I was not working, I was raising my kids, as we were seeing less and less of him. He was spending way more time with his friends than what he was with his kids.
I remember my bifurcation like it was yesterday.
He came home intoxicated from one of his daily escapades one night. He still hadn’t found a job, and to be honest, he probably had stopped trying. I wasn’t angry, but I spoke to him about how we used to dream about a better life. I did not want my life to be the life of our kids.
That night he gifted me a box of guitar strings for my unstrung guitar, but for me it was too little too late. My decision that night was the clearest thing I’ve ever experienced.
He just took his fast car and kept on driving. I haven’t seen him since.
This story has inspired my most popular song. My sense of belonging was never driving fast or dreaming big. It was always doing the best I could for myself, for my kids and for everyone else that I hold dear. Where you are now, does not determine where you will end up.
Now before I leave. This story is not the reason for my sexuality and I don’t want it to be interpreted as such. I was doing my best to conform to society of the time. I was always just simply “in the closet”. And if you’re a young person struggling with this, I suggest you just be yourself. These are better times.
I would like to thank Ted Talks for having me on tonight. I will be back later with my guitar, I’m not the best public speaker”.
