Hindsight really sucks

I just watched Pink Floyd’s The Wall for the first time in a long time, it’s a movie that’s always represented the part of me that is completely insane, the part of me that would like to trash a hotel room and smash a TV with a guitar.
Today I had a bad day, I’m not sure why but I was just angry and impatient. I hated everyone’s driving but my own and wanted to be alone a lot. Maybe I’m tired, maybe part of it is also homesickness.
As some of you will know, I’m currently back up in the Wairarapa where I lived and worked for three months. Sure I’m doing something different but being up here has made me think long and hard about the decisions I’ve made in the past four or five months.
Luckily, tomorrow is my last day up here after two weeks of work so very soon I can go home to my mum and my cats and relax.
I went to see my old colleagues while I was up here. Maybe that’s why I’m so moody today. I miss my old job so much. I hold a lot of regret for leaving after only three months.
I recall I was so happy to be home at the time but whether or not it was the right decision, is still beyond me.
I miss my colleagues, I miss writing (something I don’t do enough of now days), I miss making money and I miss being appreciated and hated, both aspects that come with the job.
I also miss my independence, I miss cooking every second night with my flatmate, I miss doing the dishes every second night too. Fuck, I actually really miss my flatmate. Those of you who know me well, know that my flatmate and I didn’t always get on as we were two VERY different people but I really miss having her around. Life with her was kind of like living in reality TV, it was the TV show where an odd couple live together, the hunter and the vegetarian. That was us but we handled it well… Mostly.
The biggest regret I have is that when I finally resigned, I had an exit interview with the manager of the place and afterwards he talked to the guy who was in charge of our department. At my last drinks, the guy in charge of our department then said to me “why didn’t you tell me you were so stressed and finding it so hard? We could have worked around it.” I look back now and I think FUCK, I never really thought that the stress I was feeling could have been all wiped up had I just TALKED to the guy and said “the demands of my job are too hard”.
Had I done that, I would still have had a job 4 months later and I wouldn’t be sitting here regretting every little fucking thing I’ve ever done or failed to do.
I don’t think I understand now, the pain I was feeling back then, I no longer understand how much past me was missing her family and friends. Present me just says “wtf, why?” Friends I felt were so important back then, I’ve recently realised are completely useless to me now. Lately I’ve been feeling like I’ve outgrown a lot of my friends, where we used to like similar things, we don’t anymore, where we used to talk every day, we talk once or twice a month or not at all. I quit my job and moved home just to find out the “friends” I moved home for, were not worth it in the first place.
I have to say, that was a total kick in the teeth. Of course, there are some friends who are worth it but they are friends who I would have kept no matter how far away I lived. I could have been living in Japan and they’d still talk to me once a week or more and would still care for me like we lived next door to each other.
Another worry right now is money. I don’t know if I’m going to last till March when university starts to start getting paid again.
I’m scared. I’ll admit that to you blog, I am fucking terrified about the future, I don’t know how I’m going to cope for the next few months or if I’ll even be able to find more work.
Hindsight aeh, she is a fucking bitch. Had I known four months ago what I know now, that work is SOOOOOOOOOO hard to find and that coming home was bad, not good, maybe I would have stayed in that job.
I just needed more feedback from the guy in charge of our department, had he told me once in a while that my work was good and that I was doing all the right things, maybe I would have felt more secure in my job, maybe I would have felt safe enough to tell him I was having trouble.

You really fucked up this time, kid.

Varelai.

Taking Back My Power

Grinding into me, grabbing my hips,
Your touch makes me shiver.

You make me sick to my stomach,
Did I ask you to do this to me?

“NO! STOP!” I scream,
A look of realisation dawns on your face.

People start to stare,
Guilt creeps into your eyes.

You walk away.

But then you’re back,
Was I not clear enough?

You’re close enough now that I can smell your breath: stale beer and cigarettes,
Is that why you don’t understand the meaning of no?

I punch you in the nose and shove you away,
“GO AWAY!” I scream

Even over the live band, people hear my cries for help,
A look of horror appears on your face, now you understand.

Three men approach you but you’ve already started to stalk away,
They grab you and drag you out into the night.

I’ve taken my power back,
You didn’t win; I will never let you win.

Creeps like you don’t scare me,
I did nothing wrong.

My world changes and my trust for men returns,
Caution remains but now I know how to fight back.




Authors note: Back in September I had a bad experience at a bar and a few nights ago I was talking to someone about it and they said when they had a bad experience similar to this, they did a painting but then in order to take their power back, that was taken away from them at this experience, they did another painting that was the opposite to the first.
It's a way to make yourself feel better because although I can't change what happened that night in reality, in fiction I can so this is the poem that changes what happened. This is what should have happened that night and what will happen if anything like this ever happens again.
He scared me, he changed the way I act, for the last three months instead of dancing, I've just stood against the wall but now I realise, fuck it, why let that creep win? He probably doesn't even remember what happened anymore so why should I still let that experience affect me?
Well no more, this, in my mind is what happened that night, I'm taking back my power.

Varelai.

Regret

So many regrets,
Never knowing if the right choice was made.
Should I have kissed him? Should I have kissed her?
Was walking away the best decision I've ever made?
Or the worst?
If I'd turned around, would things be different?
Would you be nicer? Would you still want to die?
Where would we be now if we'd let our animal instincts take control?
Hindsight's a bitch.
Looking back, we have all the answers,
Would things be different had we known it all earlier?



Just a short poem today to let you all know I'm still alive, sorry I've been a bit absent, there's been a lot happening in my life, mostly to do with the actions of others that have greatly affected my wellbeing.
But things are looking up, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and I can gladly say, it's not just the train coming.
I guess in the last few weeks I've learnt a lot, one of those things is that you can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped, it just stresses you out and frustrates them.
Some of the stuff that's gone on, I've wanted to blog about but I guess it would be one of those situations where anger would get in the way of my writing and it would get a bit too personal for use on the internet.

I've started a new project where I take one photo a day for 365 days, just as a way to build my creativity back up I guess but also to give me something to do and focus on while I'm looking for another job. All the photos go up on Flickr and Facebook currently so they're quite accessable publically if you ask.

I've started playing World of Warcraft again, started on the 21st of last month so have been back at that for a while now and am getting quite far in the game because of all the spare time I have but that's another reason I haven't been blogging quite as frequently.

Another new change I've made is the decision to let go of anyone in my life who was using me for their own purposes.
These people have made me angry and frustrated for years and because I generally am quite nice natured, I often get used and abused when someone wants something and then dumped unceremoniously when they have gotten all they can out of me.
Well no more mrs nice girl, I no longer have time in my life to put up with anyone who doesn't give me back what I put into a friendship.
I'm not just talking physical stuff like money or petrol, I'm talking time as well. I don't have time for someone who will sit there and talk about themselves for hours without letting me get a word in edgewise. That's not a conversation, that's you talking.
But physical stuff does come into it. I don't actually mind driving people around if they pay me for the petrol but constantly using me to drive you around without any petrol money just gets me pissed off. Learn to drive, don't fucking use me for your transport, I'm not a fucking bus. I don't mind being a taxi though, but those fares are very important if you just want a ride and it won't benefit me in some way. Give and take guys, give and take.

So that's a basic overview of my life right now,
I hope you're all okay, I believe the ones who were using me don't have access to this blog anyway so if you're reading this, you're probably a friend, not an enemy.

Varelai.

The Man On The Train Opposite To Mine

“You and I locked eyes between nightly trains.

You were on the 5:30 going east,
While I was on the 5:12 going south.

We were both tired after a long day.

The ring on your finger tells a story,
But I did not want to read such a thing.

I imagine your smell: cologne and soap.

When I look into your eyes my heart melts,
Like a drop of chocolate on the tongue.
While in my eyes you soared without a care,
Like an endless sky on a sunny day.

As my train pulls away from the station,
You watch me go and as fast as it began,
Our love fades away into memory.”


Authors note: This is a poem I wrote the other day while I was on the train waiting for it to leave from the station to take me home from work and noticed an attractive stranger across from me on a separate train going elsewhere.

I wrote the poem originally on the train but later changed it into the format of a Shakespearian sonnet. This format means each line has 10 syllables and there are 14 lines in all. Unfortunately I was unable to follow the rhyming part of the sonnet which goes AB-AB-CD-CD-EF-EF-GG, meaning the last word in line A rhymes with the last word in A and so on. It would have complicated the poem too much at this point but the challenge of getting the poem to 10 syllables in each line was challenge enough.

And I may have used a little poetic license as we didn’t ACTUALLY lock eyes, I stared at him but he never turned towards me, he continued to stare straight ahead so I only saw his face from the side. And I don’t actually know where he was going and at what time. But as a poet, you are allowed to make things up when you find your muse, who is otherwise a perfect target for a poem.

And now, here is my favourite Shakespeare sonnet, it’s formally known as Sonnet 130 (as Shakespeare didn’t usually name his sonnets) but also known as “My Mistress’ Eyes…”


“My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.”

As you can see, he follows his sonnet format with the AB-AB-CD-CD-EF-EF-GG rhyming and the fact there’s 14 lines in all and 10 syllables in each.
Although on the matter of syllables, it can be debated that some lines actually have 9 or 11 syllables but it depends how you say some words such as “damasked”.
I really like this sonnet just because he describes this woman who is anything but perfect, in fact, she’s just plain normal, but he loves her anyway.
Most people in poems try to make a person something they’re not, even I do it, for example my line about how he smells. How do I know he smells like that? He might smell like sweat and body odour but in my mind, he smells as good as he looks.
I like that Shakespeare doesn’t make his woman anything she’s not, he admits that her breath stinks and her voice doesn’t sound like gorgeous music but he loves her for all her imperfections and knows her well enough to admit she has these flaws.

Authors note is longer than the poem itself, typical!

Varelai.

Queer bullying, It Gets Better

Hi All,

The rate of queer suicide in America at the moment is shocking and so so sad it leaves me depressed and speechless.

Today I'm just going to share a few videos involved in the Trevor Project with the theme of "It Gets Better" and I'm also going to share my own story.

The main point of all this is that the suicides HAVE to stop, these kids who could grow up to be the most INCREDIBLE of adults are dying young before they even have a chance to prove themselves and it's all because of the bullying they experience in school.
They feel hated, they feel like they're not wanted but as Harvey Milk said "You are not sick, you are not wrong, God does not hate you".

Harvey Milk was an incredible queer activist and I think it would be well worth anyone's while to watch the movie Milk to see the difference he made in the world.

It makes me sad that I feel like I will never be able to change the world. I have tried in the past in some capacity, as you'll read in my story but I don't know how I can continue to save people and change the views of homophobic people.
How can I, an unknown person, save millions of people who feel like dying is the only way or that the world is better without them?
I don't know what to do anymore but I NEED to do something.

First up, here is a video of an American member of council Joel Burns who, in the middle of a council session shares his story about growing up gay and encourages teens that things get better if you can only wait to see that happen. It's a very emotional clip and I cried for 10 minutes straight.

The next is a message from my personal idol Ellen DeGeneres. It's short but gets the message out loud and clear.

Just a couple more. This one is a story from an average gay couple named Dan and Terry who's love conquered all.

This message is from Neil Patrick Harris who plays Barney in How I Met Your Mother, a programme I love. This man is usually so so hilarious but clearly he can be serious when he needs to be.

The last message is from Tim Gunn from Project Runway.

There are many more normal people and celebrities sharing their stories online if you search "It gets better project" on Youtube or google the "Trevor Project" you can find them but for now, here is my story and my message to queer youth:

"This is a message to go along with the videos by celebrities such as Ellen De Generes, Tim Gunn and Neil Patrick Harris in the campaign to tell queer youth that it is all going to be okay and that things do get better as you get older.

I know I’m not famous like any of those people, although I do one day dream of being as great as them, but right now I’m just an average teenager, who has not made a clear, final decision on her sexuality but knows what it’s like to grow up in an environment of hate and torment.

I left high-school two years ago but while I was there, I had strong feelings for girls and decided it was in my best interests to come out. The bullying I felt after making that decision was cruel and unyielding, something I wouldn’t even wish on my worst enemy.

The group I hung out with at school was often pelted with bags of half eaten fruit or vinegar bombs or rocks and try as we may none of the staff at school ever listened to us about the abuse we were experiencing on a daily basis or ever even attempted to do anything to stop it.

I created a gay/straight alliance type group in my last year at school to try and help and support queer youth at school and give us a place to go to get away from the relentless bullying but also to try to encourage anyone who was in the closet to realise that there was a safe place for them to be who they were at school, even if it was only in a small group.

But all this is history for me now. I studied Journalism last year and gained a diploma in an environment of caring, supportive classmates who, although they knew my sexuality, never judged me, bullied me or made me feel like less of a person.

It was that moment when I realised that in the real world, being gay, bi or lesbian doesn’t change how people think of you. They are most often supportive of you as a person, no matter who you love.

There are also gay bars and clubs, a gay fair and gay Olympics where it is safe to be who you are because everyone else has also been through the same things you have.

So, it does get better, take it from someone who knows and often open minded people admire those with the courage and strength to come out, particularly if they’re willing to speak out and use their experience to try and help others as well.

We’ve all felt lost, confused, hurt and suicidal but those feeling’s don’t mean the end of the world, it’s only the beginning of your journey and the path does get smoother as you venture onwards.

The cliché is true that what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger and queer youth are living proof of that when they grow up to become the strongest of adults, the pillars of our society.

There is no need for queer teenagers with so much potential to die.

Queer people have been known to do great things as adults, even in New Zealand, look at politicians like Grant Robertson, Chris Carter, or even Georgina Beyer who have really made a difference to our country by being out and open about their sexuality.

My main message is this: Never be afraid to be who you are, you are the ones who bring colour and light into this grey old world. Be proud and be strong."

Thanks for reading,
Varelai.

Racism

Paul Henry’s racist slurs have made me realise that I am not as racist as I originally thought I was.

His slurs, which include saying our Fijian Indian Governor General is “not a real New Zealander” and making fun of the name of an Indian woman who’s surname is “Dickshit”, were offensive to most New Zealanders and to their great delight, made him resign yesterday.

In my opinion, a real New Zealander is whoever feels like a New Zealander and nothing a TV presenter says can change that. For example, my German friend feels like a New Zealander, she lived here for a couple of years on and off and adores the country. She is now living in London but feels homesick for New Zealand, not Germany and can’t wait to come back. Who is anyone to say she is not a real New Zealander, I consider her to be as much a part of this country as I am.

But in saying that, the Prime Minister can't even pronounce our Governor General's name so clearly he's not very NZ at all.

I have never taken anything Paul Henry says seriously because it is never actually intended to be serious, he is a funny person so anything he says is intended as comedy, black humour maybe (both literally and figuratively) but never intended to offend. In fact, I just watched some clips and laughed out loud, a lot. He is HILARIOUS and will be dearly missed.

So I didn’t personally feel offended by any of Paul’s comments and they didn’t make me angry but many of my Facebook friends worked themselves into frenzies of anger saying they’d boycott TVNZ until Mr Henry was eliminated from his position.

I can sometimes be a little bit racist, I don’t know if I could date members of certain cultures but I have black friends and I love them as much as any of my other friends and would never say anything to intentionally hurt or offend someone of any race.


On Friday night I sat on a train going home and talked to an Indian conductor, who, although his English was less than perfect, was very interesting and had good opinions about what was going on in the land of trains and I discovered train conductors get as frustrated as we do with the problems with the trains and how people react to them.

The conductors barely know what’s going on half the time and what the problems are so how can they possibly do anything about it or know what to say to the passengers who ask why the fuck their train is 20 minutes to an hour late or doesn’t come at all.

If I had been racist, I would have looked at this conductor and not given him a chance because he was black or Indian. I would have missed out on talking to someone who shared similar opinions to me but also on learning about something I previously knew little about.


I watched the movie Gran Torino on Saturday night. I’m pretty sure when it first came out it won academy awards and Oscars etc because of the issues it dealt with and the eloquent way in which those issues were dealt with.

Clint Eastwood, who is looking very old and frail compared to what he was in his younger years, is the main character. He is a racist, grumpy, strange old man who is a little messed up after his wife dies at the beginning of the film.

The thing that really got to me about this movie and made me adore it is the fact that although he was a racist old jerk, Mr Eastwood’s character is eventually able to make a change for the better, realising that although he may have had some bad experience with certain races in the past, the future does not have to be the same.

He eventually becomes close friends with his Asian neighbours. He loves their food, he protects them, helps then and even allows one of the children to work for him. He becomes a role model for his young neighbours and they end up respecting and caring for him deeply.


I’m not racist, I’m willing to give people from any race a chance based on how they as a person treat me. But in return, I expect anyone else to give me a chance no matter my age, gender, sexuality or race.

I have had some problems with certain races in the past such as Somalis or South Africans but I am just as willing to give people from those races a fresh start and a non-judgmental view when I meet them, rather than judging them on what other members of their race have been like towards me.

Death and the police

A lot of people hate the police for whatever reason. Whether it's because they've given them a ticket, stopped them from participating in illegal activities or just been genuinely annoying towards members of the public, police are really very unpopular.
Recently the dismembered body of Carmen Thomas was found in some bushland in Auckland, she'd been missing quite a while and pressumed dead but they didn't know when they'd finally find her.
The police worked very hard trying to find her and her killer, they followed leads, held press conferences, questioned suspects and tried their hardest to make sure Carmen got justice.
Because I dislike the police in general, I never really think about them as human beings with emotions or feelings.
When the detective in charge of the Carmen Thomas case found her or found out that she had been found, he held a press conference to announce it but had to cut it short for the fact he was feeling very emotional.
Any officers involved in the case will get trauma counselling also.
This was the first time I was really struck by the fact these people are PEOPLE, they're like you or I, they are traumatised by seeing the body of a dismembered woman, they are overcome with grief when dealing with victims' families and need help to try to get over the cases they have come across in their careers.
In New Zealand we don't have many murders so when we do have one, especially one as graphic as the Carmen Thomas murder, it must be hard for the people involved to handle. They're not used to it, and nor should they ever get used to it. The time you get used to seeing death and no longer feel anything for a dead person, is the time you should probably quit the force or get some form of help. Death by murder should always be a shock for humans. It is not natural for one human to kill another.
I guess my belief was always that police didn't care enough about people to feel anything when someone died or that they saw a lot of death so were able to seperate their feelings from the case.
It shocked me that the lead detective was close to tears when announcing they'd found Carmen, seeing him break down really hit home for me as to how fragile the police are. They're not super heroes, they're not made of steel, they're just average humans. I guess for me, this means next time a cop gives me a ticket, maybe I'll be less hard on them, they're just humans doing a job, it's not always a nice job but they got into it originally to help people and that's mostly what they're out there to do.

Another case where police were quite emotional was the death of toddler Aisling Symes this time last year.
It affected all of New Zealand really. She was an innocent little girl who wandered off and was missing for a few days before they found her body down a drain.
At the time I wrote a poem dedicated to her, I was so affected by her death. It really was a wake up call for all of New Zealand.
The police were and still are very affected by this death, they have families and children, young and old so they could all relate to how much a child means to a parent and the thought of losing their children broke their hearts.
The detective in charge of the case was as emotional as the rest of New Zealand when he announced the fact the little girl had been found.
The frailty of the police in this case was understandable as EVERYONE felt the same way, we were all devastated but the reaction of the police was still a little shocking because in society, we look to these people as pillars of strength so when they break down, we all feel a little shocked.
A plaque has recently been erected near where Aisling died, it says: "In remembrance of Aisling Celine Symes. Tragically lost near here on 5 October 2009. Loved greatly and mourned deeply. She touched a nation."
She really did touch a nation. We were all brought together by her death, whether you were a member of the police or just a regular citizen, the effect was the same.
At the time, both citizens and police were hoping and praying the girl would be found alive and well so the shock of her death caused collective heart break.

So basically the main message today is that police are human too, they may be bastards sometimes but they are just doing their jobs and they have the same feelings as any other human and graphic cases affect them the same as anyone else.

Varelai.