no longer these days Friday, Apr 16 2010 

i’m just another crazy indian/
well piss off pedestrian, you’re not livin the life i’m in/
pick up your colonial hatred/
so sorry to tell you but that agenda is dated/
fck your ideals, i guess the message is belated/
i don’t have time to listen to the words you spit as you whine/
the way they break the air and the way they waste time/
stop telling me i need to think about the future/
cuz i’ll tell you that i know it’s bleak and to this i don’t even have to be mature/
just sit with that or instead maybe go smoke some manure/
sorry, did you get up on the wrong side of the bed today?/
well, kiss my ass cuz with that attitude you’re not gonna be able to get away/
sit back, zone out, watch the clouds play/
the imprint of the oppression in your mind is something that i don’t need to hunt for to find/
my ancestors already understood what happened as soon as your presence graced their land and their territory/
just don’t tell me you’re version, i know it’s some made up story/
but what can i do, it’s all a white man’s history/
fck you little shts with your books and your racist looks/
trust me, i’m aware of the fact it’s not just land you took/
like i said before, kiss my ass before i kick you out the fckin door/
smile and laugh all you want, do you think this is a joke?/
well go back to your pipe and have another toke/
while you’re watching your bills stack i’m thinking about how i’d/ like to see your neck crack/
watch the eyes slide back, say goodbye to heaven/
because life after death isn’t something you can sell at a 7-11/
colonialist empires weaken at their knees cuz they can’t meet people’s needs/
save your own soul, plant some seeds/
perhaps the seeds of happines and understanding/
not ones of a foolish government set on annihilated and racist masterplanning/
say goodbye to the days when my own death would have vanished in the blink of a cop siren haze/
wake up buttercup, these are no longer those days/


what u want? Sunday, Nov 1 2009 

this is probably one of my favourite songs, but i was trying to rationalize why i like it. it advocates violence, drug use/abuse/sale, among other things. it makes me sad to think that this is what young native guys are writing songs about, but at the same time why would we write songs about something that wasn’t true? i know too many people who have been involved with the cops seriously, too many who blur the line too often between drugs for pleasure and addiction, too many who are involved in violence.

i think if some people (most likely those from outside the community) listen to this song, they probably wouldn’t get it. i’ve noticed especially since recently i have been living in a house which is majority native male ex-cons. i’ve been around people like that for a long time, just because if you end up in a compromised situation, a lot of times you have to share space with people who could be considered that. a lot of them have been in foster care, absent parents, etc. so it’s no surprise i ended up there either. if history serves to repeat itself, which is really hope it doesn’t, i think it would just be too easy for me to be like them. i don’t want to pass this on to my kids, if i should ever have them, but what am i supposed to teach them about this? how are you supposed to explain to a little two year old that your childhood was abusive, and that you eventually ended up in a psych ward, and eventually a sort of halfway house where you were surrounded by criminal behaviour, and had to harden yourself up in order to keep yourself safe? how do you explain to that kid that the reason their dad can’t show them how much he loves them is that it’s something he had to do to survive, and even though it’s just too easy for them to be like him, that they don’t deserve to have that pain, but need to find a way to express their love and not be afraid? i don’t know, i just hope i can figure that out before if i ever have kids.

yesterday i was watching some of the guys at the house, and seeing how everyone interacts with each other. i saw the kid who, though he’s been in foster care and isn’t native, being really naive to what we were talking about, wasn’t knowing what the words meant that we were using. i don’t know why i feel proud about knowing the slang for hard drugs, or things that happen in prison, but i do know that it’s probably to my advantage. i think that if someone naive came into my situation to replace me, and hadn’t already had some exposure, family connection or some sort of knowledge of what the heck we are on about then they not only would be very confused about what was going on, but it could put them at a risk. it’s just too easy to get someone to do something bad if they don’t know how to tell you are manipulating them. it’s so easy to snow someone if they don’t have any personal experience. i don’t think i’ve ever had someone do that to me, because i’ll see them before they even get close too it, since 90% of what people do when they’re trying to get you is going to be the same each time. my mum did that a lot to me as a kid, and i had to learn how to get out of her way, and at the same lie so that she wouldn’t get upset, and would just leave me alone instead of hurting me. my dad never did anything because even though he was always with us, i can’t describe him at all because i don’t know him, he has never been there for me in most ways, and i don’t honestly know much of anything about him. he’s pretty absent. it seems like a pretty common thread among us guys that we don’t have proper father figures. i had my uncle for a few years when i was younger, but ever since then there has been nobody. i don’t know why our success or failure seems to hinge on this quite a bit, but i think someone needs to pay a heck of a lot more attention when they break a boy’s contact with his father, or who he considers to be his dad. it seems too obvious that we would join gangs which are primarly a male father figure-like relationship with someone. maybe violence prevention is the only way to solve this, i’m not sure. most everyone i know who has been a criminal has continued on. i know only one guy who hasn’t, but i think he had more support than the rest of us in some ways, and despite his native status he wasn’t involved in a native community in the same way. i don’t wanna stereotype about the native community, but there is just so much pain that we need to take care of, just so much criminal behaviour because a lot of us have been compromised. maybe that’s why i really love this song, because it is so real and identifying. there’s so much that the people who make decisions about criminals and those of us in the system don’t seem to know. they don’t understand that probably having someone talk to a counsellor would be far more valuable a sentence than putting someone in a holding cell for a night, or on a year probation. i have never seen anyone have to attend mandatory counselling as part of their sentence, which i think would change a lot of things. many of us have been taught to destroy feelings that others would view as inadequete, or freakish, or things that could come and haunt us or hurt us. those are the things which cause us the most pain though, and force us until we can’t bear the load anymore and start acting in ways that we really shouldn’t. it doesn’t make sense the way the prison/welfare system works here. the sentences for prison don’t take into account age/life/mental health or possible chances to reoffend, and never seem to teach the offender what it’s like to be the victim in the legal sense, since most offenders were usual targets not too long before they couldn’t take it anymore and became the abusers. nobody seems to get that, not even the people who work with them, even social workers who are in charge of kids who have them snowed to the fact that they are crack dealers on the side etc. i’m not trying to say that i’m some kinda good-two-shoes either, because that’s just not it. it’s just what i’ve seen and experienced.

the welfare system here is just as fucked, if you’ll pardon my french there. once you go on welfare, it is 99% physically impossible to get off of it. good on you if you find a way to get off it without having to do something illegal on the side to make a little extra cash to cover the rent when you go off it, or to make sure that you have enough to eat during the long stretches between certain check times. welfare isn’t designed to help people get back up their feet – it might’ve worked once but that all went out the window probably as soon as it came into existence. i’ve heard too many people make the erroneous comment that people sitting on welfare can just go out, get a job and get back up on their feet, pay rent again etc.

well, why don’t you try it then?

prove it to me that it’s possible, that you can live as a human being and either not starve or not end up on the street, or both, or not get your kids taken away, or how about all of that. why don’t you show me, i bet you’ll never get your hands on that food, or those kids. the ministry will get them so fast you won’t know what happened and i doubt that you’ll ever have another chance, better just to wave goodbye and hope that if they’re male they won’t end up in jail. go ahead and chastise me, accuse me of exaggeration, of embellisment and some sort of lying, drag out your conservative stats, tell me that i’m outright wrong, but i think i know what’s real out here on the street. at least i have the opportunity to live, ’cause i know if i let you loose you might not make it through the night, and as sad as that fact is, i can’t lie to you.

welfare Sunday, Oct 11 2009 

right now, i’m biding my time, attempting to figure out whether i should apply for welfare in order to move on in my life, due to the horrendous job opportunities and bad mental health issues i have been experiencing as of late. however, there are still some things that make me pretty uncomfortable. very uncomfortable. i don’t know where your privilege sits, or where your opinion of welfare lies, but i do know that i was constantly reminded as a kid, not to ever, ever, ever go on welfare.

why?, you might ask.

well, ever heard of lazy, drunk, welfare indians?? i bet.

as much as i am not lazy, as much as i am not an alcoholic, and attempt to keep both kinds of people from my world, i am afraid of having to sign that check, live on a pittance. not to mention how the heck do you explain that to people (apart from those who have the same experience – thank go di have friends who have commonalities), especially when they have grown up in environments that reject and often shame people who are on or were ever on welfare. i remember my father’s racist remarks about a native roommate of his, the embarassment i felt when hearing that, the total fear of ever, ever, ever having to say, you know what?, this is my only option. i don’t even want to think about what would happen to me if there wasn’t welfare. thankfully, i am not keeping such close contact with my extended family who, though there is a large portion of welfare experience, would not be supportive and don’t really give a sh-t about me anyways. so, i remain with my nervousness and anxiety, but thank goodness there may be a light at the end of the rainbow. i have (possibly – fingers crossed here) found a place with a friend (who is also of the gender unusual kind), and she said that i can be in november. which is perfect, provided i get all my shit together and get this welfare thing in order, i may have a place for myself come sometime soon!

more to follow 😀

just waiting Tuesday, Sep 29 2009 

so, i greet you again from the innards of the hospital.

not that bad a place if i must say so myself. i get my half an hour of free, unsupervised freedom to ponder teh internets, and go select a newspaper for crossword.

today i started to work on my housing situation, ugh. this is going to be one long road. the psych i saw today thinks that it would be ok if i went to a youth shelter (b/c staying at home isn’t an option – both for my safety and for that of the others who live there) but the lady who works with housing says i shouldn’t! frankly, i’d much rather go to a shelter than live at home, but i digress since it is probably better to have her read my file and do some consideration, as i am certain that the psych who saw me today will write everything down in there, especially because i was honest and vocal about what i think of the housing situation.

no idea what this is going to do for my education and/or graduation, but i don’t plan on giving up. fuck the people who try to tell me i won’t get into college, or university, or graduate studies. i will get there. don’t think for one fucking minute that this mental illness shit is going to get in my way; if you know me well enough, you that i never, ever give up easy. in fact, i don’t ever quit and i have no recollection of giving up at all. sorry grade 4 teacher who said i would never graduate from elementary school, i guess exceeded your narrowminded racist expectations. sorry i turned out to be a better human being than you wanted me to be. truly, i’m not sorry.

later Wednesday, Sep 23 2009 

i know that you think that im spittin these rhymes

cuz im young and im done and can just find the time

but i want to correct, not reject those designs

with my own mental plans and my own realigns

it seems your idea of youth has been flawed

by those who taught you when were this old

cuz i know that the world that we live in is cold

and that somethings never change no matter when they are told

so just sit back and relax

and stop talking that smack

when i know you can think what’s true instead of what’s whack

just smile your smile and sit back and relax

cuz where im gonna take you you might want to keep track

of those weights on your back

that now seem so light

but by the end of the night

im sure that what you carry ain’t gonna seem so right

cuz in my world the road is governed by fight or flight

not so much by whether what i do is right

cuz nobody’s gonna listen if your punch dont have might

i know that your minds been travelling

and that you been unravelling

but in reality all you’re really doin is marvelling

at how fast the world around you is marbling

maybe it’s cuz you’re falling

maybe it’s cuz you’re drowning

maybe it’s cuz you’re going

i don’t where you been

i only notice the state that you’re in

the space that you win

every time you take another step is it just another fuckin whim

where life goes by in the blink of an eye

and really all we should do is watch the movement of the skies

while every second someone dies

i don’t understand why that’s such a surprise

the world isn’t dominated by a sun that can set and rise

more to come…. later ;D

Hello world! Wednesday, Sep 16 2009 

For once, I actually agree with a choice of heading.

That is something which I find quite satisfying, considering 5 years of public schooling, and everything else before that.

To be perfectly honest, I have no idea why I started a blog. No, that is not true, I would be lying if I said that. Actually, I sort of know, and I sort of don’t, but I don’t expect anyone to read it, let alone comment (god help me the day that happens!), so at the very least it will be a chance to express my thoughts to the great void of the internet…. as I have done many times before.

Perhaps it would be the most polite to introduce myself…. at least partially, since I will NOT be giving you my address, phone #, et al. If you want that, then, well…. let me just me nice and say this isn’t the thing for you, ’cause that sorta behaviour isn’t my calling.

I’m old enough to be your relative (most likely a younger sibling, cousin etc.)

I’m old enough to have a brain (still youth)

I’m old enough to have a driver’s liscence

I’m old enough to make my own choices and decisions

I’m old enough to not have to worry about walking alone  in the dark (does depend a little on where you walk though, but I am being general here)

I’m old enough to know that some people who read this wouldn’t treat me with respect if they met me in person

I’m old enough to know that racism is a hell of a lot more common that white or lighter skinned people like to think

I’m old enough to know that gender isn’t binary

I’m old enough to know that my family isn’t made up of my biological relatives

I’m old enough to know that there are too many identities in the world for them all to be translated/written/defined

I’m old enough to know that mental wellness isn’t a give-in

I’m old enough to know that the system only works for/with those it likes

I’m old enough to know there are other people in the world who do share similar views

I’m old enough to know I can define myself