Tag Archives: Kit

Dark

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Outrageous.

They are telling me to be less pale.

Can you believe it?

Telling a girl to change the colour of her skin

Years ago, they told me:

“Be white! The shade! Colour your eyes in black!

You must be our perfect

China doll.

We do not want a ruddy pink face.”

As though it was somehow “unflattering” to be seen with my pinkness,

As though it was insulting to own a face freckled by sunlight and burned by mirrors.

A face that had grown and changed over thousands of years of cold

And wet

And dark.

“Dark.”

Now they are telling me to be more dark.

And I look upon my Irish face and ask them “how?”

In return, they hand me tinted moisturisers,

Contouring kits,

Bronzing beads

And a handful of false hope within a spray tan.

So I begin my quest.

I moisturise,

Contour,

Bronze.

And with a resigned sigh, I spray a chemical across my body in the hope that I will be acknowledged.

And I look in the mirror that burns me.

And I see orange, followed by more orange with a dash of newfound insecurity and two new green eyes.

I look up to the sky

Ask whatever gods

“Why do they want me to be this way?”

In return they send me a gun and it dawns.

 

I think back to those years ago,

Imagine being told:

“Be white! The shade! Colour your eyes in black!

You must be our perfect

China doll.”

And looking in the mirror

Only to see a dark face.

I imagine being told for decades and centuries:

“Be white! The shade! Colour your eyes in black!

You must be white!”

I imagine being pushed into a box,

And pushed away for an “unacceptable” colour,

All the while being told:

“Be white! The shade! Colour yourself white!

You must be white!”

 

And I finally imagine

Staring down the barrel of a gun.

Being questioned by a man with a

Ruddy pink face.

Being asked what I am doing

Why am I acting so suspicious?

I imagine telling them

 

I am not white

And I am doing my weekly shopping.

 

 

I am not white

And I am driving.

 

I am not white

And I am a child with a toy.

 

I am not white and for that reason, in the corrupted blind eyes of your justice I must be punished.

 

I look once more into the mirror that burns me.

Behind my fake orange.

With my hands I scrape it from my face and feel a different burning.

Shame.

I am so sorry for what my skin has done.

I am so sorry for the pain that white has caused.

I am so, incredibly sorry that while people die, I complain about my colour and act as though I am the one that has been inflicted by the greatest injustice.

 

I wish to start again.

 

So please,

Be unapologetically black,

Be unapologetically Hispanic,

Unapologetically middle eastern,

Unapologetically Asian,

Unapologetically indegineous.

And I will bashfully try,

To be apologetically white.

 

 

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Obituary

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Here lies a song

It was strummed,

Plucked,

Pressed

To create a shrill dust.

Every soft note as dull and clear

As the last.

Here lies a song.

It was sobbed over

And joked about.

It inflicted fear and rage

And left everyone who listened light

And giddy.

Here lies a song.

It was written underneath a cloudy sky in a bedroom.

The chords mapped out as light screamed through the window of dawn.

The melody was shaped in a thunderstorm,

And the percussion was a river.

Here lies a song.

A song that was never written.

A song that was half-written.

It is nine minutes long.

Will you stay?

Will you listen?

 

The list of things we said

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He said:

“Not to be an ass, but we

Hate each other.

As you may be aware, there is a party.

I am throwing it

And you will not be there”

Said my friend.

 

Then he listed

The reasons why:

“Because I despise you.

I think you are

Arrogant

Whiny

Vindictive

I do not want to be around you.”

 

I thought, arrogant

Whiny

Vindictive

Vindictive

Vindictive?

Am I?

Am I?

 

So I said “ok.”

I said “this is petty”

But I thought “vindictive”

 

Now, I am in no way disillusioned

I know full well that I am

Arrogant and

Whiny.

But vindictive, is that what I am?

Some secret corner of hate in my mind I do not know,

A crevice of my existence I have been oblivious to?

Is it there?

Is it there?

Is it there?

 

He wrote, in typical typed reply:

“We have hated each other for months now.

I don’t know how we kept it up.

I wouldn’t have called us friends, I don’t think.”

 

I thought, have we?

Was I as unaware of this as I was my streak of malice?

Surely not. We had been friends for years.

Vindictive.

Vindictive.

 

I responded:”Goodbye”

Vindictive

Hate

Despised

Yes, goodbye old friend,

You will be somewhat missed

 

His final response:

“It’s too hot to argue.

I’m sure it’ll all blow over

By September”

 

That is what he said.

 

 

 

Jordan

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I have a friend

Called Jordan

They live in the US.

For those of you that may be confused,

I do not live there.

I am very British.

Tea and crumpets,

And all that.

 

Anyway, so

This friend

Jordan

Is probably my closest friend right now.

Which kinda sucks

But is also cool.

Because it feels like there is somebody to talk to

From a whole different world.

If I gossip

It doesn’t have any repercussions

And the same goes for them.

I can talk freely

About ideas

Without ridicule

Without some body else telling me

“That’s ridiculous

Let’s talk about something else”

I can talk passionately about music

Religion

Books and poetry

And not be written off as a wannabe hipster,

Because they share this same passion.

 

Jordan lives in the middle of the US

(I know the state but I won’t tell)

They used to live in a big city until there was

a bad thing

And then they had to move to a paper town

“In the middle of fkujing nowhere”

As they they would say.

We talk every night

Usually over skype

About everything.

 

Sometimes this is a problem

Because I will stay up talking to them at ridiculous times

Like 2 in the morning

But in a way, it’s exciting.

Because the whole town is quiet

And I feel like I’m sharing

A moment

With them

In the stillness and the dark.

And the world becomes a safe place.

 

They have been through some stuff in the past

But we never talk about it

Sometimes they get really down

And I worry

But I know that in reality,

They’ll pull through.

 

It’s odd for me,

Having a friend like this

Caring platonically for somebody like this,

And wishing

With every fibre of my being

For their happiness.

Hoping

That one day the sea will disappear,

And the land will grow close

So that I wouldn’t have to walk across an ocean

To finally see them

Face to face.

 

 

 

Something different

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I am attempting

Something different

A different format.

Why?

I’m not sure. It feels easier to write this way.

 

I don’t know whether this classes as poetry or not

Because let’s be honest

Anything can be poetry, really.

 

I’m thinking that maybe this will make it easier

and quicker for me to blog.

Because

This feels like how I speak

And it is comforting and more

Honest?? I can express

Myself through the rhythm of the words.

 

I am trying this.

Hi! It me!!

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Yep yep, hello people.

I decided to come back because…? I finally remembered my password??

After a crazy long hiatus, I can happily say that I’m back. I learned a bit more about blogging for good ol’ tumblr ( it’s insertgeneric, hit me up people) and I no longer type like a deranged scene kid. So we’re all good on that front.

I’m also a bit more… Emotionally stable?? The last time I made a post on this was when I was getting better, but still in a bad state of mind. I’m out of that for the time being, and generally content with that. I want to actually start being regular on this thing for once, so that I have something in to timetable and schedule and shiz. I’m writing again because I need more structure.

So, what has happened? Well I’ve become a generic tumblr user for one. I’m even more pretentious than I previously was, and now have a refined taste for social justice and dank memes. But in all seriousness, I started a band and am currently launching a career, I managed to come out to friends and family, and actually made friends that weren’t in any way abusive. wOW well done me A*.

But this is just a heads up that no, sorry, I’m not dead, and yes I will start blogging regularly again. I am so, so sorry.

Kitt out

I’M BACK (Again. Sorry)

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So hello again.

I am back. No longer sad. That is good.

There, so that’s out of the way. Recently loads of sorta cool stuff has been going on so I thought I’d write about it and get some positive posts back on here. I’ve been inactive because of these positive things. These things include:

1. Got the main in the school musical

2. Won a local contest

3. Soon to be playing a local festival, thanks to local contest

4. Have recorded backing for an album

5. Been back in touch with some real friends who have managed to pull me through.

I’ve decided that being friends with my fellow females probably isn’t a good idea. I’ve always got along better with guys, and when I thought I needed to turn to “The Girls”, it was actually my guy-friends that helped me out and cheered me up. The girls ignored me when I tried to speak and revealed jokingly that some days they dreaded coming to school because they would have to talk to me.

SO THAT WAS FUN.

But stuff them I don’t need friends when I have Netflix. And via Netflix I have American Horror Story and Tokyo Ghoul. Via them I have Kaneki and Tate. So, haha yea dey better be jellie.

Ooh while I’m here: THE MAX RIDE MARVEL WTF.

For any of you that read a lot of the stuff I write, I reeaally like Maximum Ride. Especially Iggy. So when I realised they gave Iggy curly hair and acne, my heart sunk. I was hoping that the characters would look a bit like they did in the manga but a little more realistic, although apparently I was wrong. Then again, if they made Max a redhead and gave her weird robot-wings I really don’t know what I was expecting.

Anyway, songs:

Bear with me on this one. I have recently discovered vocaloids. If you don’t know what those are, then RUN. You will either absolutely hate them or become addicted to their songs. There is no between.

I guess I like them because I can feel a bit feminine when I listen to them. Most of the stuff I do tends to be a bit more on the boyish side, so it’s fun sometimes to jump around a bit to Japanese electro-pop. Idk, maybe it’s just me.

I have previously mentioned AHS in this post. Well I’m currently nearly done with Asylum and while I was watching it this morning it suddenly turned into Glee for two minutes. It made me smile.

Bye.