Introduction.

A little bit about the author…

Im British. I steal from everyone’s culture and call it my own.

 And I’m a lot more mid than my parents would have you into thinking 

My path getting here wasn’t all so simple. At 19 I got to romantically tangled with a frenchman - the fatal trap.

But realised upon getting here, you’re all like that.

At 24, I was standing in the river Ardèche, skirt hitched up to my knees and caught and myself mumbling ‘holy fuck. What the hell am I doing with my life?’

Work

‘Is it more difficult, you know, as a woman?’

‘Honestly sir I couldn’t tell you. I’ can’t remember ever having been a man’

I feel like I’m doing a lot for feminism by simply having the audacity to breathe around a diamond plated makita heavy angle grinder, and yes, completely unattended. 

‘Wow, you’re a woman’ yes.

It’s in those moments I feel most reaffirmed in my gender, affirmation I never knew I needed. ‘A women?’ I query, patting myself down ‘why, you’re right. I barely noticed’ 

Drugs

Who ever noticed that ketamine paired so well with red grapes and blue cheese? I found myself reliving memories of lives never lived by way of my recessive Spanish genes 

Wrath

Oh, toi qui cherches à tourmenter les plus humbles,Tes actes infâmes, ta voie déplorable, ton mépris qui tremble.Lâche et impitoyable, chassant comme une hyène avide,Ta destinée approche, puisses-tu être abattu, charognard aride.

Que tes lèvres ne goûtent qu'à l'amertume de ta propre coupe,Pour tes méchancetés, nul salut ni échappatoire ne te troupe.Réduit à dormir avec les mouches, rampant dans la saleté,Puisses-tu enfin comprendre, tes transgressions, tes péchés éhontés.Que le poids de tes actes te pèse, lourd comme le plomb,Pour les tourments infligés, justice sera le pain quotidien de ces gens bons.

Puisses-tu te repentir avant qu'il ne soit trop tard, que les ténèbres n'engluent ton âme,Tes péchés seront ta perte, ton destin te fera payer pour ta vilaine trame.

Wrath in English (Some things get lost in translation)

Oh, you who seek torment the meek,Your despicable acts, deplorable ways, your trembling contempt,Spineless, pitiless, hunting like a starving hyena,Your destiny approaches and may you be put down, arid scavenger.

May your lips taste only the bitterness of your own cup,For your wickedness, no salvation, nor escape will deceive youReduced to sleep with the flies,Rampant in the filthUntil you can finally understand your transgressions, your dishonest infractions May the your deeds weigh on you, heavy as leadFor the anguish you inflicted, the good will have justice as their daily bread. 

May you repent before it’s too late, before the darkness swallows your soul,Your deeds your downfall, you shall pay for your wicked schemes

Anyway. I’ll show you some important bits about the rest. Bare with me.