Helen #3 (NSFW)

This week I feature an AMAZING painter by the name of Helen/Pnut.Paints. Her work speaks volumes of the struggle she has endured in order to get to where she is now at in life. I'll let the art speak for its self. Most of her work is very PG, the story that's about to be told is VERY X rated do not continue reading if your squeamish/under 18. Thank you.


A non blood related family member, hitherto known as She Who Shall Not Be Named, or Cruella, realized i had not filled out my paperwork correctly after marrying her son. She exploited this to prevent me moving away with my daughter after her son got violent with me. I was thrown into immigration detention while she absconded with my daughter. Thousands of dollars later she was still trying to get my little girl…

I was scarred by my experiences in prison for a while… I still am. My self worth was at a low, and not helped by the fact that the man who claimed to love me, wouldn't touch me. After finding out that he was meeting strangers for sex and had been for the last almost decade, I was feeling bad. Very bad. Yet I kept trying to make it work….


I reconnected with my very first boyfriend… for 30 years and over 5,000 miles we had stayed in touch. His kindness, willingness to listen, and unshakeable faith in me began to bring me out of my shell. I can draw him with my eyes closed, I know his face so well.

The nook

Thanks to aforementioned lack of hanky panky on my part, as we grew closer that part of my brain that had been dormant for so long slowly began to wake up. I began to imagine putting my head into that curve of his hip, "the nook" as I like to call it, while reading the Sunday papers.

WARNING THE NEXT PICTURE IS NSFW. Do NOT continue if you are under 18. Thank you.

The Brink

Poised on the brink of something awesome – just like that moment ( I know you know what I'm talking about) . i m ready for it. And all the colors that it brings.

Until you say stop

Yesterday is a ghost. Tomorrow? A dream. All that matters is that we are here. Now

I'm genuinely so excited to continue this trend of featuring new artists if you would like to get in contact with her the information is below. She does all kinds of paintings. Thank you for allowing me to share this with you.

Artists featured: Helen Hudson
Social media: http://instagram.com/pnutwhistle.art

As always my contact information is in the blog. If you want to be featured or know someone that wants to tell their story let me know. 🙂

PLUR Regards,
Tyler Hurt


Okay so below are a few poems that I've written out of boredom. They aren't my best work, and I don't feel like they are even complete yet. Nonetheless, it's mine and I'm proud of it. This week has been an up and down battle between work, mental/emotional capacity, and my own anexity/depression. Give the poems a read and I'll return next week bright and shiny again.

Random #1

Fight or flight.
When I look in the mirror I get a sudden fright.
Your standing behind me.
Your all I see.
The man in the mirror.
It's no longer me.
It's the monster that's been set free.
I hate you.
I've hid you.
Go away.
I'm done being depressed.
But you won't go to rest.
You keep on giving me tests.
The shit you throw is stinky and gross.
I'm tired of shoveling it.
I'm tired of smelling it.
I'm tired of it.
You hold me close.
Like a blanket.
Like a burrito.

Random #2

Jump high.
You may fall.
You may fly.
I'd rather die
Then never try.
The journey continues.
The struggles get harder.
But may your opinions never falter.
Continue to push.
Continue to fight.
Because that option of flight is never out of sight.
It's only a 50/50 chance
So may the odds be forever in your favor.
You could however:
Give up.
Lay low.
Forever live in sorrow.
I can't wrap my mind around that.
Being complacent with what life hands you.
"It's only lemons"
"It's only shit"
It's only….

The only It's only out of your mouth should be…

"It's ONLY my life"
And I choose a life.

Random #3

It never fails…
I always end up with the ones that are broken.
If it's not one things it's another.
I want to fix them.
Want to rid them of there problems.
But they aren't my problems to fix.
But that doesn't stop me from trying.
I can't mend a broken heart.
Only attempt to grab the broken pieces.
As they fall to the ground.
Racking my brain trying to figure it all out.
Telling myself that I tried.
I pushed through all the doubts.
But in the end I just fall out.

I'm not done trying.
This is just the beginning.
There will be another guy.
Another broken heart.
Another chance for me to love.
Or at least another chance for them to use me.
My heart feels like a punching bag.
My mind is a sparring match.
It's a constant battle jumping from one to another.

PLUR Regards,

Tyler Hurt



Insert your opinion here

Ive been writing a LOT more poetry lately. My poem this week was inspired by late night thoughts. I was going thru Facebook one night when I couldn't sleep, and I continued to see a reoccurring theme. We tend to insert or own opinions about a persons situation, or their life based on what that person presents to social media. Instead we should be standing by them, and allowing them to simply express themselves without the fear of judgement or "insert your opinion here". So without further ado…

In the wee hours of the morning…

When I can't sleep

When I can't dream

When I'm too tired to move

When I'm too alert to care

I don't think

I don't speak

I do blank

I do insert something that you think I do here

Throughout our life we are told what to do

Throughout our childhood are interests are warped

Even if I tell you what I like you look at me as if I'm some kind of flight risk.

That can't be right.

You can't be that guy.

Your not into that.

You don't know anything about insert my interest here.

You should try insert your opinion here

Throughout life we are told what to wear

Throughout adulthood it is called a uniform and standard hair.

If I break the mold I'm at a risk of losing my career.

If I want to mix it up like all the girls I'm told that's not right.

You don't know anything about my insert expression here

You should try insert your opinion here

Throughout life we are told how to behave.

Throughout adolescents we are shaped into our believes about ourselves.

I can't possibly be whatever I want.

I have to follow the status quo

You don't know anything about insert my own viewpoints and opinions about my self here

You should try insert your opinion here

Insert your opinion here

Not that I asked for it.

Not that I needed it.

Not that I wanted it.

But go ahead insert your opinion here.

Insert your opinion about…

My life

My rules

My story

My journey

No go ahead. I'll wait until your done.

Don’t be scared…

*side note: I'm not a professional video person, I fumbled some of the words, but this is my first attempt. I posted to words below incase you can't hear me, or you would like to read it yourself.*

I was supposed to feel better.



Instead I actually feel worse.



The virus coursing thru my veins is an attack on my white blood cells.

I didn't realize it would attack my feelings as well.

I didn't think the stigma was real.

I didn't think it would actually affect me.

I didn't think about after care.

I didn't think about anything.

I didn't think.

They say whatever kills you makes you stronger. But what does that really mean?

I've been thru it all:



No food

No power


Extreme depression

Attempted suicide

And then


What I don't get is how people are more afraid of me once they find out I have HIV. People suddenly back away when they here that word.





It's all the same. It's as if just by breathing the same air they can get this virus. It's as if by being near me they can some how become infected.

That's not ever the case though.

Even with the knowledge.

Even with being undetectable.

Even with writing down how I feel.

It doesn't stop the intense feeling of failure coursing along side HIV.

It doesn't stop the pressure of depression chasing after HIV.

It doesn't stop the stigma that comes attached with having HIV.

It doesn't stop me thinking that I'm not worthy of love because I have HIV.

It just never stops.

I don't think those things can ever stop, but I do know I'm done trying to fight those things.

Instead I've accepted them.

I've molded them into my personality.

I'm just a mixed up bag of emotions and irrational behavior.

It's not something I can change. Simply accept and move on from HIV.

If there is one thing you can take a way it's don't be afraid of HIV. End the fear and stop the stigma. Cease your thoughts and opinions.

Gain knowledge and a resistance.

Stand strong with your values

Never have any doubts

Get tested and no longer be afraid of HIV.

PLUR Regards,
Tyler Hurt


I say I don’t regret any of my decisions in life but that’s a straight up lie. Hindsight has a funny way of kicking us when we are flying high. These last few weeks Facebook memories have been giving me reminders of some things I ROYALLY messed up in the past: opportunities that I missed by a wide margin….dreams ready to be taken advantage of. One of my biggest regrets was how I treated my senior year of high school.


That year, I had everything going for me. Not the best grades, but I was on the board of several clubs. Had been elected Nevada Deca’s President. I had just completed a FABULOUS internship with Vegas.com. I turned 18 that same fateful year. The world was my oyster, but the 18-year-old me took advantage of my new found freedom more so then I did of my new found opportunity. I was a working man with very few bills. I also had a tendency to get a little wild. At 18 I had first discovered hard core drugs.


Ectasy, coke, meth were all in abundant supply at the time. I simply wanted to escape reality. So I found every opportunity to do so. Home life at the time was tiresome, and I didn’t want to deal with the pressure of school either. Even though I’m the only one to blame for all the extra curriculars.


Well, fast forward during the school year. I thought I was maintaining a pretty decent balance.

During school I’d be mostly alert, with the exceptions of most mornings that I spent attempting to sober myself up. After school I went straight to work most of the time. That’s when the fun began. Usually on my way into work I contacted my nearest drug dealer and informed them of what I needed. We hashed out the details and I couldn’t wait for work to be over.


This cycle went on from August until about winter break. That’s when things got worse.

I was able to work even more. I didn’t have school. I didn’t think I had any responsibilities, but I did. I had clubs to maintain, state offices to uphold, events to oversee. None of that seemed to faze me. I didn’t care any longer. I was free. I was a working “adult”.


One fateful Friday night (I randomly didn’t work the next day), I decided to go out with some friends. Well let’s back track. About a month prior to this I had bought a Moped (which now made me mobile).


Anyways I went to a club that was 18+, and since I wasn’t legally able to drink in the club; I wasn’t going to let a pesky drinking age stop me. I got FUCKED up before the club even opened. After a few hours of dancing and at almost 3 am, I thought I was fine enough to drive back home. Man was I wrong. I was pulled over on a moped, about 10 minutes from home. About 10 minutes from freedom. About 10 minutes from completely altering my future.


I was charged with several things and taken in for the evening. About two weeks later, at my courts hearing, almost every charge had been dropped EXCEPT for my DUI which was reduced. Even though it was a MUCH lighter sentence, I had things I had to do in order to fix it.


I was terrified, alone, and nervous. I dropped out/ or was let go of all the organizations I had been involved in. My mentor of 4 years and I had a screaming match in the middle of class. All the people who I thought would be my friends suddenly weren’t allowed to affiliate with me. I left school. I couldn’t go back there. I couldn’t face the music. I couldn’t understand how my “friends” could drop me just as quick.


Things only continued to get worse. More drugs, more parties, more work, but now community service was added to the mix.


About two weeks before school was about to end one person reached out to me. One person made a difference. I did end up graduating with my diploma, and my speciality program.


The purpose of this entire post is I while I may not LIVE in my regrets; I still have them.  Hindsight is a funny thing. Looking back at some of the decisions I’ve made in life, I almost wish I made a different one. On the other side of the coin, if I had the opportunity to “redo” a part of my life, I wouldn’t take it.


I’m in a good place in my life. I’ve processed my long forgotten emotions. I’ve grown from my mistakes. While we may regret many decisions, look at it as an opportunity for growth instead of beating yourself up over something you can’t change any more.


PLUR Regards,

Tyler Hurt




Edited by: Heather LaBarge, Exalted Peacock

Check all that apply…

Race? MixedSexuality? Mixed

Physical stature? 😒😒😒😒
I hate boxes. I hate labels and stickers and names and one word answers that people use to sum each other up. 
When people ask my race, I say that I’m mixed, but really I’m not quite black enough and, as it turns out, I’m not quite white enough. 
And when it comes to sexuality, I’m not quite gay enough, but also not quite straight enough. 
I’m not quite masculine enough, I’m not quite feminine enough. 
I’m not skinny enough, I’m not muscular enough. 
I know I’ve beaten this topic to death, but it seems that every few weeks something inspires me to talk about my own identity. 
Being mixed race and bisexual is awkward in today’s America. I say that because it’s true. Everyone wants to you too support their cause, be on their side, fight for their rights. 
How come no one asks me what I think? How come no one stops to ask what I feel? 
They only answer I can come up with is because it’s “not as valid”. I don’t have the “black people struggle”, but I struggled just as hard. I don’t have the “white people privilege”, but I had a lot of opportunity presented to me. 
I can’t say I was disturbingly discriminated against for being gay, because I grew up in a city where it was the social norm. But I also can’t say that I wasn’t ever discriminated against for my sexuality.
I wish I could say I was never discriminated against for my sexual identity. 
In middle school I was bullied a lot. When all my male friends were starting to fill out, smell gross, and grow hair, I still hadn’t even begun my transition. I don’t think they understood what the idea of GAY was in middle school. All they knew was that I wasn’t caught up to them which made me the weaker subject. 
And I let them make me weak. I let them push me around. I let them get the best of me. I let them scare me enough to not return to that school. But I WOULDNT let them control my future. I didn’t let them control my future. I went back to a different school the following year. Still not having achieved “masculinity”, but this time having confidence in my stance, standing strong to any “bully’s” advance. 
After middle school, I was discriminated against even more though…this time by people I thought were supposed to love me and accept me. This time by members of my own community. 
The LGBTQ community is suppsed to be one about inclusion. Instead, it feels like one of the most separated communities I’ve been in. In that community, being bisexual and black, I was an outcast. I was looked at like a unicorn. I had many people that I was interested in specifically tell me they don’t date black guys. 
Even though I swore I wasn’t black.
I wasn’t ghetto, which means I was white. It took me a while to really accept and love the fact I’m of mixed race. Now I love myself and I no longer seek validation from others for my beauty. 
On the other hand people also would say to me the most inappropriate questions/comments about being bisexual. Things like…
“Are you sure it’s not a phase?”

“Have you slept with both genders?”

“Do you like girls or guys more?” 

“Do you like open relationships?”

“Gosh, you must be so lucky”

“Damn, you’re greedy”
And I’m over here like “UHHHH…yes, I’m sure. No, I’m not greedy, and fuck off.” These situations weren’t from my straight, cis gender friends. These situations were from a community that’s supposed to be about acceptance and non conformity. 
Looking back at my time as a youth in the LGBTQ community, I feel bad. I hated it. I never once felt included. Really, it all comes back to the same little confining one-word answer boxes people try to cram me intro… The boxes that I need to answer with at least a paragraph.
No easy label that I can lick and stick on your forehead so that we can be twinsies? Then no group for you. No sense of belonging. Not even in here this community rooted in accepting each other.
All of those feelings shifted when I became HIV positive, though. People no longer assumed my sexual identity, and no longer cared what the color of my skin was. They only seemed to reach out their hand to help me up. 
It took a life threatening virus to finally have the LGBTQ community on my side. I’m not saying this is true for everyone’s story. I’m simply speaking from my own standpoint, but to me that’s a damn shame. 
One day we will finally live in a world where no one is offended, no one gets shot for no reason, no one impolitely asks you about your sexual orientation, and all people will come together for a common cause. It can only happen though once each minority group stops fighting amongst themselves…
When the LGBTQ community truly accepts all that comprise it.

When the black community truly accepts all shades of color and backgrounds. 

When the white community accepts everyone for what they are regardless of beliefs. 
PLUR Regards,

Tyler Hurt


Edited by: Heather LaBarge, Exalted Peacock