My nervous breakdown might come in the form of a stand up routine...
I mean why not?
Normal is neutered - and here is THE question...
Why are we so busy trying to be normal?
Oh my normal is quite extraordinary, quite well formed, quirky and self effacing it is the decade for that isn't it?
The 70's was a time for sexual revolution and role reversal or at least challenging your role as a man or woman - so my nervous break down then (had I been an adult then) might have involved a lesbian phase and a feminist book being published.
The 80's...hmmm the drugs could have took me but I am not that self destructive so perhaps some in your face 'Vagina Monologue - esque - Fuck You' to the world.
The 90's Expressionistic but warm at heart, some giant disturbing art instillation or show? Some bizarre stuff for the sake of being truly ground breaking and avant garde.
The 00's Safe very safe - an ironic poem and some sad faceless dolls - oh yeah I did that, but this below is just as bad...ah the malaise.
The thing is
I am getting over something, processing something.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
Psychological Violence.
Crime Scene Investigation
It all sounds good doesn't it? Good if it doesn't apply to you. But when there are files and fall out its shit. It's a buffet of shit. Would you like a shit roll, a shit baguette or a shit croissant with shit sprinkles and a steaming hot turd on the side? Yeah its a bit like that.
I don't take anti depressants oh no no no I am far to good for that, no I am too real. Episodes and snippets of complete denial or at least keeping up appearances is the drug of choice for me. Face full of make up, washed and appearing to be functioning. Even better be creative, funny and popular.
Refusing to curl and wither my firm grip on denial and coping mechanism - humour might just be the thing to bring to the fore.
Fuck it! There is an inner battle, continue to parade the existence or call it.
But I am no Debbie Downer - I dislike them and refuse to be one myself, my creativity and humour has keep the drugs and down fall at bay, perhaps its time I turn it, perhaps the depleting can become the tool to invigorate me.
In an ideal scenario my insecurities fall away, my will to please is put aside, I allow the words and the feeling linked to those feces encrusted experiences to be shared and regale my personal experiences.
The flames, the betrayal, my denial. Ultimately my ability, yes my ability. My ability to laugh at myself to laugh at my flaws, my shortcomings, it's actually not about other parties involved. I do not seek revenge and respect peoples privacy - this is no backlash. This is not bitter or vengeful I have seen expression and comedy like that it is anything but appealing.
As an artist and expressive creative my life and my work have always revealed where I am at.
Perhaps comedy is next...
or I could be come the next Nigella,
stay tuned.
I mean why not?
Normal is neutered - and here is THE question...
Why are we so busy trying to be normal?
Oh my normal is quite extraordinary, quite well formed, quirky and self effacing it is the decade for that isn't it?
The 70's was a time for sexual revolution and role reversal or at least challenging your role as a man or woman - so my nervous break down then (had I been an adult then) might have involved a lesbian phase and a feminist book being published.
Ladies your va-ja-jay is not that interesting.
The 90's Expressionistic but warm at heart, some giant disturbing art instillation or show? Some bizarre stuff for the sake of being truly ground breaking and avant garde.
The thing is
I am getting over something, processing something.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
Psychological Violence.
Crime Scene Investigation
It all sounds good doesn't it? Good if it doesn't apply to you. But when there are files and fall out its shit. It's a buffet of shit. Would you like a shit roll, a shit baguette or a shit croissant with shit sprinkles and a steaming hot turd on the side? Yeah its a bit like that.
I don't take anti depressants oh no no no I am far to good for that, no I am too real. Episodes and snippets of complete denial or at least keeping up appearances is the drug of choice for me. Face full of make up, washed and appearing to be functioning. Even better be creative, funny and popular.
Refusing to curl and wither my firm grip on denial and coping mechanism - humour might just be the thing to bring to the fore.
Fuck it! There is an inner battle, continue to parade the existence or call it.
But I am no Debbie Downer - I dislike them and refuse to be one myself, my creativity and humour has keep the drugs and down fall at bay, perhaps its time I turn it, perhaps the depleting can become the tool to invigorate me.
In an ideal scenario my insecurities fall away, my will to please is put aside, I allow the words and the feeling linked to those feces encrusted experiences to be shared and regale my personal experiences.
The flames, the betrayal, my denial. Ultimately my ability, yes my ability. My ability to laugh at myself to laugh at my flaws, my shortcomings, it's actually not about other parties involved. I do not seek revenge and respect peoples privacy - this is no backlash. This is not bitter or vengeful I have seen expression and comedy like that it is anything but appealing.
As an artist and expressive creative my life and my work have always revealed where I am at.
Perhaps comedy is next...
or I could be come the next Nigella,
stay tuned.
No comments:
Post a Comment