MY DAD WHISKED ROBIN WILLIAMS OVER THE CLOUD 9, TO BE HIS TWIN BROTHER

OR WITH THE HELP OF CRONUS AND BUDDHA, YOU SEE AS SOON AS ROBIN WILLIAMS DIED

CRONUS, AND BUDDHA, PUT DAD ON CLOUD 9, TO CALM THE SOULD OF DEAD ROBIN WILLIAMS

YOU SEE, BUDDHA AND CRONUS, HAVE BEEN WORKING HARD TOGETHER TO GET ROBIN WILLIAMS

INTO LISA CAMPBELL’S ******, I KNOW THEY WERE EXPECTING TWINS ANYWAY, AND BUDDHA

MADE ROBIN WILLIAMS DIE IN AUGUST TO GROW THE FETUS INSIDE, DAD, IS THE MIGHTIER TWIN

CAUSE, HIS SOULD WAS ALREADY THERE, BUT IN AUGUST, AS I TOLD YOU, ROBIN WILLIAMS DIED

TO GROW HIS SOUL INTO LISA CAMPBELL’S OTHER TWIN, I AM NOT TRYING TO MAKE LISA CAMPBELL

FEEL BAD, ACTUALLY I PREFER HER AND DAVID NOT TO BE FACEBOOK FRIENDS WITH ME,

I PREFER THIS TO BE KEPT OUT OF THEIR FAMILY, BECAUSE, I AM JUST EXPLAINING ROBIN WILLIAMS’S

ROLE IN THE ******, DAD IS ONLY MIGHTIER, BECAUSE HE WAS THE FIRST ONE DIED, AND

I DON’T BELIEVE, THAT BOTH SOULS HAVE TO BE THERE AT BIRTH, BUT BUDDHA IS LIKE THE CHRISTIAN GOD

HE CAN’T PRE EXPLAIN ANYTHING, AND ME, WELL I MADE SURE THAT DAD HAD ROBIN WILLIAMS SOUL

FOR BEING NICE TO ME, BY BEING A FATHER AND GOING TO MY CHRISTMAS PARTIES WITH MY MUM AND DAD

AND ANOTHER THING, DAD IS GIVEN THIS CREDIT, FOR NOT KICKING ME OUT, WHEN I WAS A DRUNKEN LOUT

YOU SEE THIS IS THE BEST PLACE FOR DAD, DAVID CAMPBELL MORNINGS, JIMMY BARNES GRANDDADDY

AND MY OLD FRIEND OLGA CHICK, FROM VINNIES IN SOUL LEO AND OTHER TWIN AFTER DEATH ROBIN WILLIAMS

SOULD GRADUALLY ENTERED OTHER TWIN AFTER BUDDHA KILLED HIM

BUDDHA WORKS IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS, BUT IT’S BEEN DONE NOW, ONLY COMPLICATIONS CAN STOP IT

Fashion’s symbolic sensuality draws eyes, stir passions and maybe even resentments!  =]

Of course, maybe you’re above worldly conceits, above fashion. YOU, go through life as unaware as sinless Adam and you’re excessively handsome, or pretty, obviously.

But for the rest of us - fashion is the medium of our beauty and God created Paris for fashion.

We’re pretending we’ve come to Paris (our immediate, pandemic safety-pod-family) for a family reunion - but REALLY, we’re on safari - a freshmen, college-wear, “back to school,” ensemble hunt (for meeeeeeeeeeee!).

Step 1 (there’s only 1 step) - go to the Rue Saint-Honoré.

This year, I like-like Anna Molinari - most of the ready-to-wear daily-trash I snapped-up is hers - all hers. It didn’t start out that way - but she sould me on an uncharted course at first sight.

Other designers seem to be pushing old-lady-looking floral prints this season. Eeuw! Why?? DIAF.

My gran-mère (grandmother) told me - 6 days ago - as she attempted to tame my run-away hair: “You need to be unpredictable, petite beauté, not some comely young automaton. Then everyone will find you interesting and watch to see what you do next.”

Thank you, gran-mère - I’ll settle for looking interesting any time.

Is tamed wildness
And manufactured wilderness-
A plastic world
All my young son will know?

I have known gritty gravel roads
And sunburnt savanah veldt.
Swam and splashed
in muddy dams and reservoirs.
I have sat high above,
in mountain peaks studying clustered clouds
close enough to reach out and run my fingers through by day,
and I have counted the dancing stars above
in vast dark nights.
I have discovered treasures in the misty valleys on early mornings
And seen sun streak through
heavy storm clouds
to colour a grey sky with radiant rainbows.
I have seen surreal snow fall
And slowly erase the world around us.
I have seen majestic beasts truly free-
Wildebeests, various buck and cautious rhinos,
Zebras that danced and played
Around an elephant that loomed high above them,
And elegant wings that whispered
upon westerly winds.

And it has all left me marked,
these magical moments  tattooed in
my south african soul-
And I am more for it - filled.
what will feed their sould now?

A** pple pie, freshly baked from the oven. I don't wait for it to cool, I want it hot, with a big greedy scoop of vanilla ice creams melting next to it.

B oys. Cute, querky, gross, crazy, but amazing. You can't stand them, but for some reason you need them in your life.

C ookies. Warm, fresh-out-the-oven, gooey choclate chip cookies.

D  is for dancing. Dancing in the rain with my eyes shut, screaming at the top of my lungs and not caring what anyone thinks. Just dancing.

E lephants. Strong, old, smart and beautiful creatures. Harmless yet protective.

F stands for foxes. More specifically fennec foxes. Adorable, small, cunning, cute and most of all, want by me!

G iving. Not just material items, but hope. Giving hugs, and smiles to those who need one. Also, For-giving.... letting go of the past and moving forward

H eartbreak. The feeling of no being able to breathe, not being able to speak, or make sense of everything without your "other half." Moving forward slowly, cautiously, because there are more around the corner.

I Me. The broken, yet strong; beautiful, yet self concious; smart, yet lazy teenager.

J is for Jenna, my first best friend. We aren't best friends anymore, but we still talk, and enjoy catching  up in eachothers lives.

K issing. I love kissing. I mean come on.... everyone does ;)

L ove. A strong, complex emotion which many guys lie about, and which I do too. I think I've only ever once loved my partner... all the rest I enjoyed...

M om. My mother, the woman who decided "I'm going to take the qwerky, adorable girl home to America with me and make her part of my life."

N is the first letter in my name. Natalka Hannah Evangeline Kmiotek.

O veracheivers. The people who make fun of me, because they can do things better then me, and everyone else. ******* all.

P erfection. Skinny girls with perfect *******, and big *****. No scars, and white teeth. the opposite of me.

Q uiet, as in I have to stay quiet or they'll hear me. Who? My demons of course. If I'm too loud, they will come for me and drag me back to hell.

R stands for two things. The first is **** A horrible word describing a nightmare you wish you could forget. It's being robbed of your first touch by selfish men, and being back into a corner against your will, forced to stay silent.

S is for strength. The strength to overcome, the strength to live, the strength to move on.

T hank you. To everyone who has ever been there and listened to me...

U nderstand why I cut myself. Why I hurt myself. It's easier to deal with physical pain, then the emotional kind. The emotional pain rots and festers inside me, destroying everything. It shuts my lungs down, forcing me to gasp for air.

V acations. Small escapes from your daily life, into something glamourous and relaxing. The warm sand between your toes, as the hot sun beats down on you. The cool ocean kiss the tips of your toes, cooling your thirst.

W hen will pain end? When will people stop being mean to eachother? When can I expect my child to be able to go to school and not be afraid of the other students? When will I be able to walk outside, and finally be able to say "I am safe," not having to lie.

X plain to me why people put others down? Why are there perfect models and barbies, telling us how we must look, how it's acceptable in society.

Y es please. Thank you. Simple manner, dying out, almost extinct. What happen to being nice? Or do we now, just take what we want? Expect everything, like the world owes us.

Z ach. He was my first love and my first heart break. With him, when he left, the floor caved under me. We were one of those couples that would break up, and get back together then next week. I guess you sould say we were crazy for eachother, but when he left, I guess I was the only one crazy. I was crazy enough to think he was ever mine.

Will you conquer my heart with your beauty; my sould going out from afar?
Shall I fall to your hand as a victim of crafty and cautions shikar?

Have I met you and passed you already, unknowing, unthinking and blind?
Shall I meet you next session at Simla, O sweetest and best of your kind?

Does the P. and O. bear you to meward, or, clad in short frocks in the West,
Are you growing the charms that shall capture and torture the heart in my breast?

Will you stay in the Plains till September—my passion as warm as the day?
Will you bring me to book on the Mountains, or where the thermantidotes play?

When the light of your eyes shall make pallid the mean lesser lights I pursue,
And the charm of your presence shall lure me from love of the gay “thirteen-two”;

When the peg and the pig-skin shall please not; when I buy me Calcutta-build clothes;
When I quit the Delight of Wild *****; foreswearing the swearing of oaths ;

As a deer to the hand of the hunter when I turn ’mid the gibes of my friends;
When the days of my freedom are numbered, and the life of the bachelor ends.

Ah, Goddess! child, spinster, or widow—as of old on Mars Hill whey they raised
To the God that they knew not an altar—so I, a young Pagan, have praised

The Goddess I know not nor worship; yet, if half that men tell me be true,
You will come in the future, and therefore these verses are written to you.

The soul cannot be crushed
Even and odd
With all the weight of the world
STILL ALIVE
with all the pressure of the past
STILL HERE
Elements, isolated, commoditized , extinguished.
STIll expressive
Chained, bottled, misunderstood,
STILL WILD
angry, sad, lost and lonely
STILL LAUGHING
medicine, music, sweetness, poison...
The Sol will find a way
To fire
To rise
To water
To cover
To bring to life
Earth
love

Once again, I feel it snaking it's way through my emotions
Through some magic door I've yet to discover
Relief floods through me, still wary
As I begin to reassemble the pieces
Who I once was
Who I will be
Sometimes the pieces cannot be repaired
So I fashion myself anew from my learnings
Cycling through assembly, oneness, and broken
I know this may happen again
Maybe, in time, I may be able to prevent this self destruction
But for now, here I am

Sold myself out to suffering for a time
Bringing myself down because I don't deserve it
A place for me
Security for me
A life, for me
Misconception that all I have known
Is all I need to know
This false belief in myself
Ensuring I never step out too far
Finding comfort in the uncomfortable

The world is only as big as it reaches.
And yes, my children, it reaches pretty far.
It's filled with millions and millions of faces just wishing to attain fame.
They want more and more of it and they need it now.
But then there are those who don't know their purpose.
They feel like they can't fit in in this far reaching world.
They are the sould dressed in black, not because they are sad.
But because they are absent.
They feel like day after day after **** day they are going down like the Titanic.
But at least the Titanic drew money.
These souls, they are left to suffer under shadows of vultures.
They don't own a mirror because they don't want to look at themselves in it anyway.
Because they're afraid if they do, they'll see what they look like.
They'll see what people see.
The disgust, the patheticness, the nerd, the goth, the dork, the ****,
The in pain.
The insane.
The mental game.
They are all taking their tolls.
But where are these people to go?
How are they to know?
How were they to know that a disorder known as bipolar would result in bringing a blade to their wrists or a noose to their throats?
Their screams can't be heard because they're being cut off by the noose.
They try so hard to escape from this far reaching world.
But they can never escape this lie we're living in.
They scratch and claw at the door like a cat wanting milk.
Because that cat had a bad day at cat school and he just wants to come back to his cat home and drink his cat milk.
And then cry himself to sleep.
And as the cat sleeps he'll have his cat dreams.
He'll dream of one day becoming top cat,  sly cat, papa cat, and even the cat's pajamas.
He'll dream of one day when he can stroll down to the corner trashcan without being harassed by the big dog names Spike from down the street.
He'll dream of mice and how things aren't nice and about his dinner, rice.
But then his dreams turn into nightmares.
Like a 50 year old losing his hair.
Or like your spouse declaring they just don't care.
They've given up.
But suddenly you awaken hearing your cat crying in the night.
And you run to him and pick him up, assuring him that he is not alone.
And it is then that you catch yourself in the hallway mirror.
You see who you are for the first time.
You see yourself, and also a dark cloud.
It's that dark cloud of denial hanging over your head.
But you also see your cat in your arms.
And you are suddenly reminded that you are not alone in this far reaching world.
This far reaching world would be alone without you.
So my children, my black wearing souls.
Pour yourself some milk and cry yourself to sleep.
But when you awaken, remember your dreams.
Put them in a file and label it "Hope."

And when you feel that you are alone at the end of this far reaching world, remember,

You're the cat's pajamas.