It’s funny, the miniscule details we take away from a supposedly life-changing event — a receipt, a song lyric, a number written on the back of a bus ticket or a scent.
When I think of my 21st, I don’t think about the crazy partying or good times. I think of the Leunig cartoon pasted inside my birthday card.
To say I’ve had a tough month is an understatement. I was hacked which has turned my life upside down. The event has bled into all areas of my life.
Not only did I lose my Facebook platform and large following. I lost the security of all my associated accounts. And sadly, I lost my one-woman-show.
I have a tough hide, usually.
I’ve overcome multiple tragedies yet ‘this simple heap’ has tripped me.
I’m actually experiencing grief in regards to the loss of my one-woman-show and social media platform. I’ve cried enough tears this week for the whole of London.
You see, I built my show and platform from fuck-all. They were both great extensions of me and my art. And its not just a page or a show. It’s hours of unseen work.
And what adds to the sting is people’s general lack of compassion. Particularly those that pose as friends and colleagues.
I’m glad its finally been revealed to me that I’m actually surrounded by arseholes.
I’m currently clambering to the summit of this big PILE OF SHIT and when I arrive, I’ll be raising my own flag as I look out over the horizon.
And this is what it will say: