‘Tis My Season to Get, Starkers…!?

Please note…

If further information is required, please visit my Disclaimer.

Consider homage paid to people pleasing formalities and the yawn worthy task of cotton wooling this content, while shining an early bird spotlight on the perpetually offended so they can feel special, seen and validated.

However…

To any reader who may genuinely, and rightfully, experience distress from engaging with subjects such as domestic violence, sexual assault, mental health challenges, suicide, disability and more, please do consider if it is wise for you to continue reading at this time.

That all said, let’s get into it!

Shall we…

Seasonal changes happen to us all in this life, whatever the cause, reason, potential and purpose, and my new season has certainly now arrived. Albeit annoyingly late as a ‘better late than never’ moment in life, but then again I do believe that everything flows in and out of our lives as it will for whatever confounding reasons may or may not exist.

Each phase, event and occurrence in our lives having its own time and season.

Ergo…

‘Tis my season to get, starkers…!?

You see, many people mistakenly believe they know me, whether through personal relationships, as a name on the tip of idly gossiping tongues, or as followers of my online activity. From family, friends, acquaintances and past religious affiliations, to strangers I have never even met, I have long been viewed as a woman who has nothing at all to complain about.

It has even been suggested, as much as out rightly stated, that I live a life of luxury due to my inability to work. While it is also assumed that Daniel and I have a perfect, carefree and unhindered marriage, based on little more than our public facades and well maintained appearances.

Many wrongfully believing I have no right, no understanding and certainly no form of qualification to speak about adversity at all, much less to step a single foot in the darkest realms of societal taboo.

Society, by and large, has had free rein in saying whatever it has chosen to believe about me for half a century, while I have remained silent for the greatest part. Accepting my societally imposed isolation and near on reclusivity, as the only places I can feel safe in this world.

But now, it is my turn to speak!

My time to create a written public record!

A full frontal exposé of facts countering fictions!

An excessively long winded info dump of right up in your face overshare!

Consider this first feature memoir a cover letter to a resumé of sorts…!?

My life resumé, a littering of inconvenient truth on display, but imbued with the hope and uplift I wish to convey.

A resumé that begins with a basic dot point list of facts about my life, straight up front, following this introduction. After which, I unashamedly lay out the depths of my mental state, for the whole world to see, and hopefully for some who might understand.

Setting up the springboard to dive shockingly deep into various facets of my life, human behaviour and the world surrounding around us in general. Whichever facets of life demand their own spotlight, as future pieces to be written, for anyone who can find any worth, who can see any benefit and take what they need for themselves.

The following list of my factual life experiences, adequately demonstrate what qualifies me to speak with unwavering authority about adversity and societal taboos. What also gives me every right to indulge in wickedly dark laughs during this season of a literary, photographic and filmed creativity.

Albeit, certain to be far too uncouth for appearance bound frauds!

Facts that absolutely do qualify me to speak empathetically to men and women alike, to my fellow survivors and battlers in general.

Also highlighting what gives me an absolute right to call out a society that merely virtue signals safeguarding children.

How society, by and large, prizes comfort and convenience far above the welfare of any man, woman or child.

The defenceless, vulnerable and broken in full view of us all!

Equally so, facts, lived experiences and personal observations that might provide some educational material for loved ones and supporters of anyone who is vulnerable and/or broken. Yet at the same time, exposing what categorically does qualify me to call out the kinds of supposed ‘professionals’ and ‘experts’ who are not only far from being either, but are the kind who prey on the defenceless, vulnerable and broken.

This is the moment I remove all my masks, strip back my deceptive public persona and rip the filter from my mouth entirely. Finally, allowing factual truth to flow freely from my fingers in word.

A filter that family, religion and society maliciously installed to control a highly intuitive truth teller. Yet a filter which no longer controls me, as I demonstrate in this first full frontal exposé.

This is the moment I spit in the face of every one of the maliciously instilled fears that have bound me. Exposing the societal rules that acquit, protect, enable and support the worst examples of human kind and behaviour.

The moment I raise both my middle fingers to a cold and callous species preferring the comfort of blind eyes, far above the inconvenience of any factual truth.

Brazenly I now stand starkers upon the world’s stage as who I am, for the first time ever!

Unashamedly, I stand naked in my uncouth candour, as equally naked in my irrefutably certifiable level of madness at this time in my life, dripping unapologetically in defiance and gasp evoking audacity.

All judgement aside, I offer the potential of a cure or a curse…!?

Hope and elixir to whatever ails for anyone struggling, wearied and broken by life!

But the venom required to put who and what skulks in the darkness of humanity to rest!

Without further ado…

Without further suspense or procrastination, I now present you the dot point list of my darkest factual realities. Which are long overdue for the antibacterial, parasite ridding and restorative powers of daylight.

Do grab a torch and a shot of humour!

Let’s step into the dark…

From being born into multi generational child abuse that was neatly covered up and happy family appearances meticulously maintained, and being conditioned to believe that mistreatment is anything other than the blatant abuse that it is. To being taught that I must allow coattail riders and opportunistic parasites to take their fill and never complain, nor ask for help, even when mere happenstance comes my way.

These are the facts I have rarely if ever spoken, and which society has shut down on the rare occasions I did show distress or begin to seek help.

• Coercive Control
• Child Sexual Interference
• Educational Challenges
• Severe Social Anxiety
• Eating Disorders
  
• Teen Miscarriage
• Adult Sexual Abuse
• Adult Sexual Assault
• 3 Serious Car Crashes
• Abuse in Marriage
  
• Divorce
• Blended Family Hell
• In-Law Control & Abuse
• Control in Christianity
• Suicide of Best Friend
• Financial Collapse at 44
• Lifelong Chronic Illness
• Progressive Disability
• Repeated Medical Dismissal
• Violations in Medical Settings
• Late Diagnosed ASD
• And various ‘milder’ life stressors and challenges in general, just like everyone else.

I do have 5 more points to add, as the catalysts for this exposé, at this moment in my life. But allow me to address an ugly triple faced elephant in the room with us, which I call it the elephant of adversity, a cruel beast I believe is know by all invisibly silent battlers.

The elephant of adversity’s faces are… disbelief, denial and dismissal!

Code name, Invalidation!

A monstrously callous prison guard, a creation of Polite Society, and whose employment is frequently upheld by society as a whole. A society which conveniently deludes itself with notions that suggest anything unseen, unspoken and/or not experienced for one’s own self simply cannot exist and/or do not occur.

An enormously ugly elephant I am well aware sits in rooms of life with an incalculable number of men, women and children. Genuine victims who are subjugated by a society preferring to toke up on a powerful hallucinogenic peddled by Polite Society, rather than acknowledging factual reality… a drug sold by the brand name, ‘Ignorant Bliss’! (© marks the spot for human created copyright!)

You see, I know what comes next as a societal response to my trivial and pathetic little list, which is sure to be interpreted as woe. I hear exactly what specific people in my life and their ilk will be saying.

What will be muttered under their breaths about my needless public exhibition, my sure to be painted as a ‘tantrum’. My clearly unreasonable and disgustingly shameful outburst about insignificant challenges that everyone faces in life.

“Snap out of it Rebecca!”

“There are people far worse off than you Rebecca!”

“You have no understanding of what a hard life is lady!”

Right?

Because everyone experiences that level of adversity in life, and I am just blowing it all out of proportion for dramatic effect to seek attention, right?

And if that level of adversity is beyond what others believe is normal, then it could never have happened and I am either making it all up, or am fully responsible for what I ‘chose’ to bring upon myself…!?

RIGHT?

Because seriously, no one could ever live though all that and smile as I do…!?

RIGHT?

So I have been told…!?

All my fucking life!

By ALL of society!

Laughably, that list significantly minimises, dilutes and downplays the factual nature of my life experiences. The durations I have endured, each act of physical violation, blatant abuse, levels of aggression and the forms of coercion involved.

That list omits the extent of reasonable, justifiably logical, emotional, mental and physical pain I have endured in relative silence for a lifetime!

As too, it omits the reality of dysfunction that my husband, Daniel, our children and myself have been forced to accept and make accommodations for, as ‘my normal’ mental state fluctuates. In addition to my cognitive and physical dysfunction in everyday life, as a wife, a mother and now grandmother… who is seriously… and logically fucked up!

Save further digress…

Allow me to add the 5 final points to my trivial and pathetically insignificant little list of woe. As the culmination of my life experience and the combined catalysts for this public demonstration of how to overshare and alienate everyone.

While titillating the voyeuristic masses!

What necessitated such an uncouth display!

• My dad’s Death (2020)
• The Aftermath of His Death
• Suicidal Inclinations
• Unintentional Self Harm
• Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

*Public Service Announcement

Regarding suicide, please note that I will NEVER talk about my plans, methods explored or the outworking of blow by blows that played out on numerous occasions. It is not necessary for me to lay out what has the potential to become an instructional manual for someone else, during their battle for life.

Additionally, and emphatically please let me say…

LIFE, no matter how hard, it is well worth FIGHTING FOR!

No matter how long you have fought or how many times you may have been disbelieved and/or invalidated, please keep holding on. Please reach out to whoever and whatever matters the greatest to you in this life, keep asking for help and pushing back against the temptations.

Back to the main program

My decades long battle with suicidal inclinations very nearly ended my life during July of 2024. What I intend to be the final time I step foot over the edge of a metaphorical cliff in my life, a suicidal cliff that I have stepped one foot over numerous times, since I was 20 years old.

The whys and wherefores of how I shattered to smithereens are far too complex for full disclosure in one single written piece. All the more so, the wealth of life saving lessons I was taught throughout that period are far too complex and multi-faceted to unpack in one sitting.

I have wasted an entire year desperately trying to write it all in short, believing no one would be interested in my long winded tales of woe. Trying desperately to sanitise, water down and condense all the drama and tragedy I have experienced in this world.

To not impose or bother other people with what I apparently have no right to speak openly, much less cause other people to feel discomfort from engaging with.

I have driven myself even madder trying write without writing about myself, my factual realities or simply being me!

Without being my too much of everything!

All that I expressed in my Welcome Page about the “Too Much” of everything I have frequently been told I am as a writer, and heard all my life about who I am as person!

You know “too” is such a tiny word, but “too” spoken by critics, that “too” it the too added to all the other toos of the head-fuckery that screams as an internalised critic. A brute of a critic created by hordes of critics intentionally implanted in my head by other humans.

And a brute of a critic that never shuts the fuck up!

Because heads up, just like ideologically delusional activists who scream louder than any silent majority, the voices of critics scream destructively loud in the heads of writers, artists, musicians and creative types in general.

While those who apparently appreciate their work remain silent for the greatest part.

When the loudest voices anyone hears from childhood, and all through their life, are heavily weighted with disruptive and destructive criticisms, how are they supposed to know they actually do have a purpose, talent and worth in their own right?

When all a person hears it how “too” of everything they are, when all they hear is the implied excess of oxygen they steal from this world, why would they not feel as if they should quietly slip away?

Enter suicide vs life…

My reasons for suicidal inclination are plain to see, quite simple really.

Why would I not contemplate checking out of a world that has only ever used, abused, violated and pointed to me as subpar, defective and an abundance of toos as the blight I apparently am?

Half a century of family, religion and society as a whole insisting that my greatest innate gifts, talents and skills are my greatest defects, deficits, personal flaws and for which I should feel immense shame.

SO WHY CHOOSE LIFE?

Why decide to keep living?

Why defiantly refuse to give in, to what much of society has all but told me I should do?

Quite frankly, I really do not have an answer beyond sparing Daniel, our sons, their wives and partners, and our grandchildren.

But more to the point…

Why choose to fly in the face of my greatest critics, expose my abusers and risk retaliation?

To validate the fears of critics and abusers living in fragile glass castles, at the bottom of magnificent snow capped mountains.

Proving their fears justified!

Showing them that I am not merely a single stone they chose to throw around carelessly without due care, hurling me around and causing me to tumble toward their glass castles.

Oh no!

Now is when they begin to realise I am the rock fall of truth they always feared. That I am the unavoidable avalanche of cold hard fact bearing down on their perfectionistically precious glass castles. Their castles built upon foundations of pristine appearances in idealistic gardens, their delusional and ill thought out fraudulent versions of personal Edens.

They were right to fear who I am and who I could become, if I was to ever discover my own worth.

If I ever woke up and understood what they have known all along!

You see, they all knew I am an exceedingly far better human than anyone who has used, abused and intentionally mistreated me will ever be, they also knew what would happen if and when I woke up to my own worth.

What they feared the greatest about me, and anyone else they have mistakenly believed they had a right to mistreat, is the power a self-aware victim discovers, if and when that victim learns their worth.

The power of victims to be the mirror that causes their abusers to feel shame, the nakedness of truth deep inside, about who they really are as the worst examples of the human species. The abusers, subjugators and oppressors who are forced by their victims broken silence to acknowledge how far short they fall from their perfectionistic delusions.

The mirror that shows them exactly how shitty they actually are, and how heinously vile they are as humans.

Credit where due…

Well done to my abusers, subjugators and oppressors, they had me pegged all along!

Sincerely, to any of them reading, thank you for teaching me what needed to learn!

I have NEVER thought myself better than anyone in this life!

Only ever believing I was far below everyone else in this world, because that is what I have been taught consistently since my first breath of life in this world.

It might have taken half a century, but half a century later, I finally learnt different about who and what I am.

And what I am is…

One helluva fucken societal reckoning!

The strength of character society feared would end generations of self-serving egos!

Not only in my ancestral lines and ties, but the cesspool of human society as a whole!

I am what cults of family, religion and self-elevated blowhards fear most in this world!

I am an alchemist moonlighting in the art of illusion!

My mastery ‘lies’ in pairing the sweetness of rose scented bullshit with the radiance of a bright sun filled smile, which they know barely obscures their heinous secrets. They know my sunny disposition is a creation of all mind-fucking illusion, I am the confusion to whoever is rudely awakened by the knowledge that Rebecca of Sunny Disposition is a sham.

I learnt to smear human created bullshit across my face as war paint in early childhood. Camouflaging my societally damned self with whatever grew in the piles of manure created behind fraudulent public personas of upstanding perfection and self-elevated societal positioning.

Obscuring every bloodied shard of truth piercing the surface of a child clearly in distress. A child chosen to become ‘The Problem’ for the broken adults who lacked the spines and the balls required to place blame firmly where it belonged, too entitled to address their own fucked up childhood messes.

Concealing my ever increasing darkness, lit only by my anguish aglow. The cesspools deep within me, I allow to privately overflow. My soul is a boot camp for demons, mistakenly sent my way as foe. And while my skeletons do amuse me, their laughter is an acquired taste, which few are keen to know.

Call me arrogant all you like, but those who genuinely know me, they know exactly how laughable it is for anyone to call me arrogant.

Those people also understanding just how much I have tolerated!

Just how much I have silently withstood, before becoming who and what all of society has begged me to become.

The likes of me…!?

We are many…

Oh, it may well take weeks, months, years, decades and in some cases many generations. But scorpions like me, we inevitably crawl from our reclusivity, especially when threats become so intolerably sustained it is clearly ‘Foolishness’ who begs for the fight. (Yes, with a capital “F”… as the ‘case’ may be!)

Jokes of sentence case aside…

Heed my warning!

Overinflated senses of self, such as entitlement, societal upstanding, sanctimony and religiosity are kinda like balloons, they inevitably deflate. Or they simply become so outrageously humongous they reveal themselves as ugly bulges of excess ego no longer so well hidden.

Either way, all those overinflated senses of self simply require is one single prick to be dealt with effectively!

Well, set me ablaze and call me a prick…

My native Scorpio has risen from her ashes with a wickedly bad attitude this season.

I have an itch in the sting of my Scorpio tail, a soul burnt desire to be a prick!

The prick to cause ugly bulges of excessive ego to go… POP!

In essence…

I either confess to being a liar, exposing the confronting realities that fear taught me to hide as an extraordinarily young child, or I give up writing altogether…!?

My only way forward as a writer, is to expose the sham of my public persona. The fictional character I have played upon the world’s stages for a lifetime, for my own safety and survival.

As too, this is…

Life saving exposure!

You see, in all ‘What Actually Fucking Is’, I will not survive one more secretive visit from Active Suicidal Intent, pure and simple.

Daniel is well aware of it, and whether any of my sons and their lovely ladies want to acknowledge that basic fact as reality or not, my adult sons are fully aware of it.

Nothing but basic fact!

Similarly, in tandem with suicidal inclinations is one other (bio)logical factor, my worsening physical condition. The significant exacerbation to congenital, chronic illnesses and disability from physical trauma, along with the physiological repercussions of unending stress.

Stress that has most likely existed as a part of me and my life since I was in utero, given my mother’s level of childhood trauma, damage, insecurities and her extreme anxiety.

Because it is actually my body that now threatens to call the final score, far more so than the allure of Active Suicidal Intent’s seductive daydreams of release and restful peace.

Oh uhm, yeah…

I should quickly explain, suicidal inclinations have been such a strong and constant presence in my life for so long that it felt only right to give them names with which to address, as Suicidal Ideation and Active Suicidal Intent... The Suicide Twins!

No romance about it, they are fucking arseholes!

Suicidal Ideation having been my uninvited constant companion since my early teens, and will likely be with me right to the end at this point. The annoying twin to simply flick off my shoulder and firmly telling him to shut the fuck up. But he is the one who has opened the door to Active Suicidal Intent, numerous times since I was 20 years old.

It is what it is, but to voice any of it is to risk being being painted an attention seeker, treated far worse and be sneered at with contempt; as has been my experience on exceptionally rare occasions.

Contempt I also observed as the mental health system personally drove my best friend to her suicidal cliff, to her inevitable death!

Strong, resilient and seemingly happy people like me, we don’t have the right to ask help, we don’t have the right to tell any factual truth about our lives.

Especially when having been effectively discredited!

We learn to be strong enough to fend for ourselves!

That is what I have always done, what society demanded I do!

Fend for myself until I had nothing left within me and broke entirely!

So now I stand strong once more, only now my voice is free to firmly speak factual truth!

Oh, but hang on…

Some delightfully charming parasite in this world will absolutely choose to callously and dismissively paint my statements of fact about suicide as some kind of attention seeking tantrum or gaslighting threats to my family and society.

So allow me to address the gutless, fuckwitted parasites hiding behind their screens!

They were statements of F.A.C.T!

Yes, it does NEED to be spelt out big and bold, repeatedly!

Which is why I have coined the phrase ‘What Actually Fucking Is’, to give a fuller weight in reply to a society that encourages seeking help, yet punishes anyone who does seek help!

(Too fucking right I am vigorously slapping my palm to my forehead right now!)

FUCK ME…

The shittiness of human kind is outstanding!

Oh wait, fucking people over is how we got here with so much mental illness, isn’t it…!?

Society fucking me and every other genuine victim over for desperately seeking the help we require. If any genuine victim can be bothered hauling arse to receive the shut down, slap down and societal sentencing to receive the gift of punishment we know is coming.

Look, childhood victims are taught young, about societal punishment as the aftermath for unwittingly displaying distress or even looking like they might ask for help.

As for older children, along with men or women who begin their battle with any and all forms of adversity later in life, they learn early upon those battlefields to firmly shut their supposedly whinging mouths.

Honestly, I do not need or want help at this point!

Nor do I need any support,

I SAVED MY OWN SOCIETALLY DAMNED SELF!

And as for support, having had so little to none whatsoever throughout decades of an inescapable living hell, my intensity is clearly so toxic that no one can cope with the level of anguish that I can no longer contain.   

I mean, some validation and actual acknowledgement would have been good long ago, just to know that I matter to some small degree. But that is not at all how society and getting through this shindig we call life works, not at all in the actual fucking reality of me being so broken I have nothing to give to anyone… and am therefore not worthy of acknowledgement… much less validation.

Just the facts about my life, and the facts I have witnessed play out in other people’s lives!

Other than an increasingly scant number of individuals I permit to get as close to me as I am comfortable with, I have no trust in my fellow humans whatsoever at this point, and I never will again!

While I will always be friendly and accepting of others, approachable and capable of enjoying conversations with anyone and everyone I come in contact with to high degree, I am far more comfortable with my ‘aloneness’ than any social interaction.

Sure, I do get lonely, I know Profound Loneliness intimately!

But Profound Loneliness, well he is the lesser of evils in comparison to humans!

Much of society wonders…

How do kind, empathetic and compassionate people turn nasty, seemingly overnight to most?

So nasty they will attack good upstanding people without any provocation?

Well, wonder no more!

Because I can tell you now that “overnight” is far from contextually accurate, with all manner of abusive types knowing exactly how to create perfectly fraudulent public personas.

Similarly, deceptive appearances are the battle armour and cloaking devices which give caged victims the only protection they have available. Their only means of survival in a society that prefers voluntary blindness without any compulsion toward care.

Kind, empathetic and compassionate people rarely if ever turn nasty overnight!

Desperation becomes a savagely wild beast when push gives way to long stifled reason!

Quite frankly, I think this first feature memoir may begin to explain how I became an adorably cheery little bundle of fun filled sass, now unleashing Rebecca J. of The Uncouth Exposé.

Because many will be asking how a woman they known as genuinely kind, friendly, generous, empathetic and compassionate has become a high ranking foul mouthed bitch, leading a loyal army of demons no one else ever had the balls to tame…!?

And look…

I am acutely aware that my insignificant little list will most certainly not be enough reason for what and who I have become, not for some. Not for the stony cold hearts capable of such vile behaviour, nor their accomplices, enablers, protectors, cheers squads and spectators enjoying the entertainment.

No, my simple yawn worthy dot point list will not nearly be enough justification for me becoming exactly what society has begged me to transform into, what the cults of family, religion, education and society broke me in all the right places to become.

But hey…

STAY TUNED for WAY MORE FUN!

A fun filled season that begins with this first chapter, in which I will dive into the tipping points that unleashed my misanthropically supercharged ‘No Fucks Left to Give’ phase of life. The needlessly bad attitude I will absolutely be accused of displaying during my ‘Too Fed Up and Too Fucking Old to Tolerate Any More Bullshit’ season of life.

Including what it really was that saved me from suicide during 2024.

Oh, I do hear you…

How dramatic do I want to be…!?

Well I don’t know…

You really are free to judge for yourself this season!

However, the actual facts, the ‘What Actually Fucking Is, Was and Will Always Be’ of my life does not require anyone else’s belief to be the factual realities that will never change or cease to exist in all factual reality.

I am not so much ‘angry’ by the way!

I am far more anguished!

I mean, I am ferociously angry, given the bad half century I just had, and rightfully so.

However, “anguished” is far more the appropriate term here!

If you do not know the difference, go buy yourself a pre-internet era dictionary!

Let’s keep moving shall we…!?

Before I wrap up today’s cheer filled little shindig, with my long overdue resignation to Polite Society, along with my final thoughts about how we move forward as the writer and reader from here… as the creator and a consumer!

Two brief points of order…

The Devil may care about my perceived appearances, tone and attitude throughout this season.

But I have no care left, nothing to dictate I continue committing self-denying treason.

Society now reaps what it created from lack of empathy, compassion and any sound reason.

My skeletons rattle loud, my laughter is comedic relief, proudly presented by my army of demons.

But allow me to be absolutely clear, before anyone chooses to begin the smear…!?

No victimhood at all lives here!

Only a survivor no longer bound by fear!

In their rawest state, the factual realities of my life will be disbelieved, downplayed and flat out denied by an overwhelming majority. Attempts will be made to discredit me, and the likelihood of invalidation through the insistence that I am dramatising for attention is an absolute certainty.

Yet as I say, they are facts which require no belief from anyone else to exist, facts as they categorically were, are and will forever be!

There is NO woe here!

NO pity parties, NO melodramatics, NO overplay, NO over sensitivity and most certainly NOT a single convoluted, fucktarded ‘Victim Card’ in sight!

NOT anywhere!

What is present however, is my raw, factual humanness!

My ever increasing anguish, justified scorn, bitterness and unhinged vibe are irrefutably evident. Valid responses to be expected, with cause and effect playing out in a captive human. A woman who has been forced to endure extraordinarily unreasonable circumstances for unfathomably long durations since childhood, and being expected to never react or speak about any of it.

A rightful human response to the campuses, boot camps and battlegrounds of life that educated me, that trained, honed, strengthened and fully prepared me for this season.

But do feel free to tell me if you think I am dramatising and throwing out victim cards here…!?

Although, do take care with hurling judgements!

I am not at all who I once was, I am one helluva pissed off grumpy old bitch these days!

Meaning that I absolutely will return any accusations of victimhood and “Victim Cards” with every intention of taking out eyes, with the full weight the proverbial ‘eye for an eye’ in like kind!

All those who wanna go cry foul or try to discredit me, go ahead and try!

But don’t blame me when you get burnt by the fire you set in place hoping to destroy me!

I will absolutely hold faces up to a mirrors to show subhuman types what heartless and vile example of our species they are, before linguistically shoving their heads right back up the sun free zones they came from.

Vigorously shoving their brain dead skull right up the arse it clearly harvests mental and emotionally imbued bullshit to thoughtlessly dribble. The shit spewed out by parasitic humans determined to add a new layer of putrid filth to this hellishly fossilised sphere hurling through space. The breed of human I now write about, and who can fuck off to gag on their own subhuman shittiness!

Yeah clearly, I am not at all who I was, and never again will I be that old doormat version of me!

But as I say, I am exactly what society has created me to be!

Oh for fucks sake…

Do laugh my dear reader!

If I can find laughter in all this to create entertainment for you to savour, you can bloody well enjoy a few bittersweet shots of whatever elixir Dark Humour is pouring us both!

But seriously, I have one final brief section for you to read.

My formal resignation…

Can we pretend I haven’t had my membership form Polite Society rescinded already?

Cause if I have not been evicted from Polite Society already, I have something to say.

With a fuck ton of long overdue DIS-respect…

Polite Society, I hereby resign!

In moving forward, I will absolutely include my usual fluff, sunshine, roses and allow my mythical unicorns to fart rainbows, but clearly there is a great deal that has potential to cause discomfort.

Other than whatever daily fluff I post, I think the next feature-length memoir will head further along the path of that fateful week during July of 2024. What led to my freedom while dancing on the edge of that suicidal cliff with Active Suicidal Intent.

In closing, firstly, let me say thank you for having stuck it out this far.

And secondly, please do tread with caution when I use the “Sensitive Content” warning. Now that you have some awareness of the kinds of foreboding landscapes ahead.

My full and surprisingly brief Disclaim is quite simple, if anyone has any issues please head over and read it!

As I say, I will be writing plenty of fluff pieces, but I am well aware that a self-absorbed parasite may selfishly try to shut down what has the potential to be of benefit to other people.

Which is why I choose my own company, and why I do find it hard to publish.

At the end of the day and as a final note…

I am a memoirist who only knows how to write from factually lived experience and personal observations of the world around me. And now you have the basic layout of my factually lived experience, it clearly is a case of confronting the darkness to access the guiding lights and bountiful treasures.

Before I go rambling on any further, let’s leave it at that for today!