Colony of Losers- Fuck Stigma and Mental Illness, I'm like 25

Surviving your Quarter Life Crisis and becoming an adult


Posted on | February 21, 2018 | No Comments

Fucking butterflies

Am I right?

Like stay inside your cocoons you sophisticated flying magnificent piece of shit

I’ve spent a lot of time hating butterflies for causing all those forest fires

Like they were doing anything other than trying to enjoy their brief time

Where they were able to fly

Like their actions were a reflection on our connection

Like they had so much clarity about what their choice would mean

Like they have this birds eye view and know where they are going

Rather than just want to travel for a little while longer in the sun

While I’ve been ducking and squeezing to fit inside basement hallways designed

To hold other people’s happiest moments

While it only gives me concussions and bloody knuckles from trying to be a contortionist

You don’t always fit in the places that feel like you should

I’m sorry but you don’t

I get that you’ were trying to give someone your life like a present

But you didn’t leave any air holes in the box you shoved yourself in

And drove everyone into exhaustion

Because the feelings were a maze you had no choice but to be lost in


Too many rhyming sentences with vague phrases will annoy your audience

This isn’t a poem isn’t about a person

It’s about the fact that you don’t get to chose the places you belong in

Like what you think will make you happy probably won’t

And one reckless night of being exactly who you want to be

Might start everything


Until the story stops

Magic words only work once

And you’re back at the beginning again

But older and less courageous

Trying to be normal so hard

And you need to stop having conversations with people who aren’t there anymore with the people that are

And it’s ridiculous how much time you spending talking to yourself while arguing with a shitty version of someone who can’t hear you when if you picked up the phone they could and they’d say something nice like

I didn’t mean it that way

I didn’t know I hurt it you

I love you so much that I think about you all the time and what you gave me

I wanted to give you something like that

I wish you’d let me give you something like that

Because I thought I had

I bet you have a moment you’d like to time travel to

Where you’d tell yourself something

Like listen to me

Be deaf to everything you hear

Pay attention to the way they look

All frustrated, confused, fearful

It’s not about you

They’re just trying to be happy and have as little perspective as you do

You have a right to choose

What you listen to

From the people that love you

Even though they hurt you with their attempts to be happy and hurt themselves too

They said it once and in your head you said it a thousand

You can’t stop people from hurting you

But you can stop fantasizing about it in the back of your mind, and cutting yourself, pretending it’s them who do it each time

Forgiveness is the act of giving up the belief that you can change your past

And I know you aren’t going to believe this

But time travel doesn’t exist

And for the most part we are all helpless

You aren’t the only one

Who doesn’t have control over your own life

For just this moment you are one of the only people who isn’t going to lie

And pretend you do

You are a totally shit psychic

Everything you were scared of didn’t happen

Unless you let your fear infect it

Until you turned water into gasoline

To make the world burn to match your nightmare’s worst dreams

Because it felt safe

Because it felt like home

Let me tell you a secret

Butterflies carry new lives on their wings

And no matter what you do, every path has beautiful things

And the only way it gets to you

Is if you let chaos destroy things that don’t belong to you

Butterflies fly in the form of car crashes, forest fires traveling at breakneck speed

Through the places that break your heart so badly that the door fly open and windows shatter

Letting some fucking air into the room

So that you can scream at the top of your lungs

I will take everything you have to give me

Love parts of me

That didn’t get love before

The weak heartbeats that didn’t speak beside in murmurs

The pain in my gut that says always and never

The ache

That has such a horrible memory

That it can pretend that time doesn’t exist inside darkness

I will let myself feel so fragile

That when the sun hits my face I’ll smile at the kindness

Because I didn’t ask for this, feelings came and ran through me like a hurricane

And my voice is really just the wind

And my nightmare is fingertips holding onto wings

Like I’m responsible for everything

And the butterflies get trapped in your stomach

The anxiety the flutter of attempted fight or flight

And when you get on stage

Under those lights

You open your mouth

Excited to disturb things

Fingertips slide off wings

A surge of movement through my throat

As laughter comes out

When life tells me a joke

As fire catches smoke

And I realize that life isn’t about me





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  • About

    Michael Kimber is a 26-year-old journalist who suffered a nervous breakdown on November 3rd, 2009. On March 28th, 2010 when he recovered from mental illness, he began writing a blog called Colony-of-losers. About falling on your face to figure out who you are and the hilarious antics of a blond jew. What began with a few friends and his mother reading has become a cult phenomenon, averaging 10,000 views a week, receiving praise from Commonwealth Award Winner Shandi Mitchell and many others. On, November 3rd, 2010, the one year anniversary of his mental breakdown he signed with Anne McDermid and Associates, the largest literary agency in Canada. In a year he went from wearing pajamas, making his couch depression HQ to leaving his hometown for the Toronto, where he exclusively wears business suits and the armor of ancient Greeks. Don't worry, he's still choking on the feet he contently sticks in his mouth and making moments awkward just by being part of them. During these struggles he met other talented bastards and drew them into his circle. Peter Diamond became his illustrator. Patrick Campbell his video editor and part time photographer. He recently added the incredibly talented John Packman as Colony of Losers Toronto photographer. Without the support of the Colony of Losers, Michael Kimber would be nothing. Welcome to the losers and the success that comes from utter and complete failure. You aren’t alone. Follow him on If you’d like to hire him for a public speaking engagement for mental health events in Toronto, like to arrange an interview, offer millions to publish his book or for another reason contact Michael please email him. And join his facebook Colony of Losers.

    Really obvious disclaimer:
    I’m not a trained psychologist. Just a fellow traveler. If you need help seek it from the professionals. The Canadian Mental Health Association provides a help locator. You can find crisis resources provided by the Canadian Association for Suicide Prevention. If you are in the states check here. It will give you services by zip code. I’d also recommend checking out I think they do great work and have been a help to me personally.

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