
Sometimes I
feel like
my Soul is
desperately
trying to
escape…
Tap
Tap
Tapping
at the top
of my skull
“There’s
somewhere
else I’m
supposed to
be
Let me
out!
Set
me
free!”
© Kait King, 2018
02/04/2018

Sometimes I
feel like
my Soul is
desperately
trying to
escape…
Tap
Tap
Tapping
at the top
of my skull
“There’s
somewhere
else I’m
supposed to
be
Let me
out!
Set
me
free!”
© Kait King, 2018
02/04/2018
Understanding the Predator – Desire
Previously I discussed the behavior of the pedophile. Now I’d like to address the desire that spurns the predator into scarring our children.
Take, for example, the standard human relationship of a male and a female, or homosexual relationships as well, the straight adult male seeks a woman with say, an hourglass figure, long hair, big boobs, and maybe a small butt. Or what about a homosexual male relationship? He may, for example, be looking for someone who is tall, bulky and muscular or perhaps for someone who has an athletic build. Regardless of their sexuality, the desire to be with someone is created normally, from attraction to the adult physique – the physical is what attracts us all initially in the realm of adult relationships.
The first thing we are attracted to is what we see. That has been the norm since forever. As a woman I desire certain physical male attributes – I want a hairy chest and armpits, I like my man to be strong – have strong arms and chest, I like it that he pads around my house like a big cat – these are desirable physical attributes to me, as a straight female. We are talking purely physical attraction/desire so please keep this in mind. Straight men will have other triggers, which I’m sure we are all familiar with, like when she bends over, the way she flicks her hair back, her boobs when they squish together when she bends over, when she bends over…you know the drill! 😉
Anyway, let us assess what a paedophile must see as desirable in a child. Babies, toddlers, preschoolers, primary school kids,pre-teens – the majority of these age groups do not have a shapely figure and no breasts, no butt, no adult conversation. So is the pedophile attracted to those little cute, pudgy bodies, plump little cheeks and wispy head of hair etc? Physical attraction is what first triggers that desire, right?
What about those individuals who claim it is about control. Is it really about being socially awkward and being unable to talk to a grown woman/man? Is it then that every paedophile suffers with Asperger’s or Autism of some kind? Why don’t other socially awkward people become pedophiles then? I think it’s because it is not about control but about attraction – same principal as in the first part of Phase 1 – you cannot counsel, medicate, talk or religion me out of my sexuality – it is innate and this is why a paedophile cannot be rehabilitated.
All they will learn to do is hide their sexuality better, they will learn to be better skilled at obtaining silence from their victim/s, they will become better at saying what the professionals need to hear to let them back out into our communities. It’s a fault, it’s not fixable, you cannot rehabilitate away an individual’s sexual preference. It is that simple. The 35c solution is that simple. Parents and families who have lost kids to pedophiles, both spiritually and in life, also know it’s that simple.
Is what we have been doing so far working for us? Are our kids safe?

Attempt #1
I was two weeks off my 13th birthday – so yeah, I was 12 years old when this happened to me. We lived in South Africa at the time when I was raped, by a 27 year old American man that I sort of knew. That was the first time I thought about killing myself.
I was still thoughtful although quite serious about ending the agony and shame. I couldn’t look at my Mum and Dad the same way – something had changed in me and I wasn’t their lovely little girl anymore. I was damaged, tarnished, broken, tainted – I was dirty and undeserving. I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened and how little control I had had over anything that happened to me.
I couldn’t live with that uncertainty at that age. I didn’t want to live a fearful, doubting life! I had been, and should have still been, a carefree, happy twelve year old who loved horses. Now I held secrets, anger, fear and hate. My horse was my savior. I would cry into his mane all the time, feeling so hopeless. We would go for rides for ages or I would just lie on him, or with him, while he grazed in his paddock. He was the only one who knew what happened. And it ate me up.
That was the first time I contemplated suicide. I will tell you how I tried sometime, but that’s another story.
A Survivor
Does it matter
what color I am,
Does it matter, what color?
When I feel
just the same?
Does it matter
what faith I follow
Does it really matter, my faith?
When I can be
both deep and shallow?
Does it matter
if I’m alive or dead?
Does it matter
who it really is
When we all bleed
red?
Kait King 2018
Left of this curve
way in the past
where we made love
that wouldn’t last
I knew then
with that pain in my heart
And I know now
right at the start
© Kait King, 2015

It’s never easy talking about things that make us look weak in others’ eyes. Like suicide, like depression – we know it is seen as ‘ not coping’ so we say nothing. Saying nothing means nothing can change. The same negative thoughts, the same repetitive hate talk, the same triggers to feeling overwhelmed don’t go away…
But it’s never OK to talk about feeling like you want to kill yourself. Nobody seems to know what to do if you have ever mentioned it to anyone, or they cry and panic and call people you just didn’t want involved. Sometimes we mention it several times before actually committing or getting to a point of actual commitment to the act. If a blade is going to be used, there are often preparation cuts – which can put the person off using that type of method – as it kind of hurts! But if you want to kill yourself, you will find a way.
There is that old saying about someone attempting suicide is really a call for help. I think in many cases this is true. There seems to be no other answer to end the angst and pain. That feeling like you don’t belong and want out, combined with all the spiritual stuff out there that indicates we get more than one chance at life – we’ll just get to come around again. If you believe in God and heaven or Jesus – you believe in your salvation, you believe you will stand with Jesus on the other side. And if you believe that when you’re dead, you’re dead – well Hell, at least the pain, confusion and suffering will have ended.
The idea of death is the idea that it will be the end of the suffering – forever, like switching off a light. Or is it perhaps turning one on? For us? To shine a light on something we have forever kept in the dark. It keeps happening, numbers keep increasing, children younger and younger are opting out of life – Why? Our kids seem to be more violent, suffering more and lacking resilience.
Do they think they are in a game and have more lives? The Game of Life? Pass Go and do not collect $200…
I’m no secret
I’m loud and clear
I love you babe
put away your fear
I won’t leave
I won’t bow out
I promise
I’m good for it
I’ll leave you
no doubt
And all I ask
in simple return
is the love
from your heart
that I know
I have earned
© Kait King, 2015
Sleep deep
Sleep light
Lucky you
if you
sleep tight
Sleep long
Deep sleep
Eyes closed
yet you
still weep
Eyes open
Brain awake
Each breath breathed
a life
at stake
Eyes closed
Brain aches
It seems
like an hour
each second takes
Tweaked bedclothes
Twisting dreams
When are you awake?
Never, it seems
© Kait King, 2015
The crackling laughter
in a clunking room
with a crashing band
on their début
Toppling patrons
a snarling fight
scantily dressed ladies
goose-bump in the night
Security stands
dark at the door
free thinking radicals
spiral on the dance floor
Falling about
in a giggly drove
Time is up –
time to hit the road
A taxi is called
some resist and complain
they take their car keys
never to be seen again
© Kait King, 2015
Pre-Occupancy
So nobody’s home
Just cardboard cut-outs
posed in my brain
Memories I can’t let go
Pre-Occupancy
A way to survive
Somehow to numb
the pain
Somehow to stay
the child
Pre-Occupancy
Merely a distraction
Something to hide
any connection
Anything to avoid
taking action
Pre-Occupancy
© Kait King, 2017
Filling in spaces
in the game
of my Life
The map of my body
a giver of Life
Changing my places
the marker beyond
And the trouble
with you dear,
is you don’t belong
© Kait King, 2015

Your’e fading
on me again,
Quietly moving
away
Distancing yourself
So that you think
I won’t notice…
The bed is
our friendly
enemy
Saving us
from ourselves
and each other
It’s a waiting
game as
your brain seasons
change
And you will
be back if
you go
And we go
through
This
… again
Kait King 25/01/2020
I know
what’s happening
to me
He’s found
his way
in
making me think
in love story
lines
making butterflies
deep inside
me
and a sickness
I cannot recover
from
© Kait King, 2015
Presumed guilty
before proven innocent
the unwilling participant
Assume the best
and prepare for the worst
Expectation costs nothing
but disappointment hurts
© Kait King, 2015
She’s beating the
crap out of me
I want to be
retaliatory
But I can’t find a gap
to even try
and hit back
She kicks me in
my side
Everyone there wants to see
me cry
I can hear their
jeering calls
of magnified echoes
charging through halls
This strange metamorphosis
in sound
is my ticket off
the gravelly ground
And I can see myself
lying there
The group of bystanders
shout and cheer
My body, I see
crumpled like
a sack
And I never even got a chance
to throw a punch back
© Kait King, 2015
Jealousy
Please leave me
Let me walk free
from your grasp
Honesty
Please fill me
Set my words free
with that trust
Stupidity
Please abandon me
Let me hear twice but speak
with one voice
Integrity
Please empower me
Take over my mind and body
to make the right choice
©Kait King 2017
My laugh is empty –
it’s lost it’s guts
I feel myself falling
into one of those ruts
That long
dark hole
I think I’ll never come back from
That “odd-one-out” feeling
that I really don’t belong
© Kait King, 2016
I’ve been loved
by someone
When I wanted
to be free
And I’ve loved someone
desperately
When clearly
they didn’t
love me
I couldn’t find
a balance
I felt all men
would just hurt me
I made a choice
very purposefully
And I withdrew
from family, friends, and society
Alone
I finally could see clearly
the common denominator
in my failed relationships
was me
© Kait King, 2016
The wind makes my little cottage shudder and shake, the rain pelts relentlessly on the roof. I can hear the rumblings of thunder as things thrash around on the outside. The palms’ fronds that had died during the summer have now been flung down to earth ungraciously by the howling wind. Not a bird in sight of course, they are smarter than us. I don’t know whether to be slightly afraid or think “fuck it” what can happen? But suddenly I feel like Dorothy. Even though I’ve turned up my TV, the rain is really loud and I can hear the wind still, and the thunder…It sounds like a train coming. I remember someone telling me that earthquakes sound like a train or huge truck bearing down on you. I wondered if the rain was actually hail – it sounded so hard but it just didn’t seem cold enough. I’m snuggling down – battening down those hatches. I think about the poor cows taking a battering in the storm. Nature is so harsh – we have summer and everybody’s happy and then Wham! So this is winter – we will blow the crap outta you, sting your bovine crowd and make things generally miserable.
Oh Hello Winter!!…. mother-fucker….mumble grumble…
Listen to the episode of my podcast: Foot in Mouth Disease https://anchor.fm/kait-king/episodes/Foot-in-Mouth-Disease-e15l4ln
A bright orange glow
you sit in the hedgerow
thinking you are hidden
and will get to catch the forbidden
but little do you know
your gingerness does show
even though you’re so still sitting
your camouflage seems to be what’s missing
You see the birds and can contain the frolics
but I’m sorry Rastas –
You stand out like dog’s bollocks!
You must wonder how come you don’t catch a bird
they must look at you and think you’re absurd
You’ll never catch them in your bright orange coat
Or feel their silky feathers in the back of your throat
I’ve seen the odd field mouse stiff on the bricks
but I just know, that’s not how you want your kicks
A crispy crunchy sparrow or a larger tasty minor
or perhaps a tender inside bird, something a little finer…
© Kait King, 2015
A Wild Wind blows amiss
the plants and trees –
not a gentle kiss
Like a Louis
the Fourteenth dance
All the stately
tree branches prance,
Individual as the players
of many orchestrated layers
They fling themselves
around
Ancient roots hold tightly
in the ground
as the Wildest Wind
does its very best
to keep the tree branches
from any rest
© Kait King, 2016
Touching many
or touching none,
the joy it brings
just touching one –
with a torrent of words
cleverly writ,
from the coolest phrases
in ancient Sanskrit
or perhaps a scribe in
a guttural foreign word
is the sweetest thing
anybody ever heard
And the English language
with it’s redonkulous rules
where no matter how good you are
it still makes you a fool…
sometimes
© Kait King, 2016
She’s listing
dangerously –
hair unwashed
no make-up on,
even the Captain
abandoned her
uninteresting,
over-weight and
needy
Stuck in the
iceberg
solid
icy
cold
unwanted connection –
The dark will soon
be upon the wreck
alone
lonely
lost
In the dark
© Kait King, 2016
Slightly
gently
tumble on
down
fall into
my arms
you’ll not
be undone
Kait King 2015

Say what?
Edgy, I get
but perhaps it’s time
to give a name to this
retro-mismatched
misunderstood era
of a better time
clung to with the echo’s
of laughing kids on bicycles
a dog barks and sprinklers spit
on the thirsty, but well-kept lawn –
you know the drill
Now we watch TV programs of that
magical but oh so dangerous era –
as never before or after the 70’s
has there been a true A-typical
serial killer – at least that we know of
Corruption and destruction
non-existent moon-landings
And milk that lasted outside for weeks
We thought we were moving forward
But there were glass-ceilings and
“no choice” let alone the freedom of speech
The Vietnam war left more bodies
falling over time, or walking like the dead –
than the count of the actual battle
Hate was not something of the past
activists and advocates battled for what’s right
and still there are the odd crosses found
burning in the night
© Kait King, 2015
So you don’t
live in
a War Zone
At least not
one that
we can see
And you’ve
never been
aimed for or
shot at
But the gaping
bleeding wounds
may
as well
be
There are no
drones hanging
clanging alarms
rapid gunfire or
your screams that
anyone else
can hear…
But you do
Kait King 2020
Listen to my podcast: Playing Dress Ups https://anchor.fm/kait-king/episodes/Playing-Dress-Ups-e16h8vt

She can read your mind….
There’s a part of me I don’t want people to see. Sometimes, I think my battle with writing at times is because of exactly that. If I write what I want to – which I do, this must make people (strangers and those I know too) think of me in a certain way. That’s just the way the cookie crumbles, we all represent in some way or another – the way we decorate ourselves, our homes, our cars insides….But that is easy to see when we visit people’s homes or meet them and feel akin to them or get a ride in their super tidy or super messy car – we are able to make assessments.
But what about when you really know very little about a person and yet you are able to read their minds, well in a way, kind of. I write what is in and on my mind and you are reading it….mind reader 🙂
© Kait King, 2015
Don’t know why I’m here
but finally I see
there’s a few hard lessons
to be learned by me
And it doesn’t matter what I
think I’ve learned
I give so much
and still get burned
So how do we turn ourselves
into someone new
It can’t be the easiest thing
to do so
why do we try so hard
to be
society’s perfect human being?
© Kait King, 2015
I also would just like to point out that the unvaxxed were begging their vaxxing brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, uncles, cousins, aunts, friends – who had jobs in all aspects of society – to NOT take that poisonous experimental gene therapy. They heard us loud and clear but decided to follow dictatorial tyrants instead of doing research, listening carefully to the language used – be discerning! Every situation like this, one needs to ask 2 critical questions.
1. Who are the stakeholder/who benefits?
2. What is the benefit to them?
Then just follow the money trail. For it is all about profit. Nothing to do with health or humanity – more like humonety. Money and profit for them at the expense of our grief and pain.
Listen to an episode of my podcast: Crazy Horse https://anchor.fm/kait-king/episodes/Crazy-Horse-e15fsdl
Oh no, I can’t get over it. https://anchor.fm/kait-king/episodes/Oh-no–I-cant-get-over-it-e13o9va
Seismic airguns are used to find oil and gas deep underneath the ocean floor. Airguns are so loud that they disturb, injure or kill marine life, harm commercial fisheries, and disrupt coastal economies. These blasts are repeated every ten seconds, 24 hours a day, for days and weeks at a time.
Crazy isn’t it – that money is the most important thing to have…
It’s not even just necessary to live anymore, but needed in excess of a gluttonous, consumable rate. Also, sadly at the expense of every other earthling – plant, mammal, marine, insect life. Ultimately at the expense of our Mother Earth – without whom we wouldn’t exist….But sure, let’s go ahead and blast the oceans, rape and pillage land and sea. Mankind is adventurous and a conqueror! Of what? Ourselves? War seems to already qualify that bizarre question!
Discovery and experimentation for the benefit of survival of all living things is most definitely a necessity, don’t get me wrong. But destroying our only home for the benefit of gaining money is a totally different story. Forward thinking has become about bank accounts when it needs to be about human accountability. Animals adapt to their surroundings, blend in – whereas people force the surroundings to adapt to what they require, causing droughts, floods, contamination.
Humans are the most alien thing to this planet – perhaps we are the ones who don’t belong here…
Kait King 2017

So I’m asked to describe how I concentrate to write or focus on anything when pain is such a major contributor in my life and a permanent. I thought about it for a second. The doctor had used the whiteboard and drawn “my brain” with pain in the background and words like focus, concentration, motivation scribbled at the front with arrows looking like they were trying to get into my brain. Understandably these things all present a challenge but the way I see it, is that the pain is like an intricate piece of lace that is draped across my brain. In between the detailed lacy gaps things like concentration, motivation and focus do filter through. And depending on how tight the stitching is sometimes it is easier for those things to flow through and other times not so much. This might make sense to some of you – I’m not sure.
Also I’m not big on the word hope. I don’t want hope – I want it sorted now or I will just live with it until some such miracle cure arrives – but I’m not spending my life or any time at all with the hope that I will be fine again. It is what it is. They say hope is a word used for people who don’t want to accept. That is not who I want to be – I know a part of me longs for my body to be pain free but that is just not how it is.
I believe that determination comes from my soul and I will carve my way through whatever it is the universe chooses to share with me and be grateful at the same time – because even though I can’t walk very far, I can write – just a different double u (w)…. 🙂
© Kait King, 2015
Listen to the most recent episode of my podcast: My home is being crushed under a tyrant. We need help, we need to be noticed as part of the uprising https://anchor.fm/kait-king/episodes/My-home-is-being-crushed-under-a-tyrant–We-need-help–we-need-to-be-noticed-as-part-of-the-uprising-e1bvq33
Describe a decision you made in the past that helped you learn or grow.
I believe it’s been
All the wrong ones
The bad decisions
The poor choices
They were my teachers
The water needed to grow
Were the tears that I cried
My food was
food for thought
I learned
I grew
I knew,
I knew….
More than an easy before
Way….
Way much more
Kait King
Okay, so we’ve had horrendous flooding here. There’s been death and destruction. People and landscapes have been changed forever. A long recovery stretches ahead but as a Kiwi, I know we’ll band together as we do and pull it together. That’s one of the things I love about my country.
But the weather, not so much! We get a lot of rain on average and although you have a gap of blue skies, somewhere, on most days, it still seems to rain a shit tonne. But after this never before seen deluge we’ve experienced, I shall have to find something else to whinge about.
But it does make me wonder about CERN and HAARP and cloud-seeding. Practiced by China, South Africa and Australia as far as I’m aware. There may be many countries messing with our global weather, trying to get their’s right!
What do you complain about the most?