American rapper, poet and record producer from Los Angeles Jon Wayne-not your usual hip hop suspect.
‘My words are my only thing‘ reminds me of the saying I use a lot ‘write to recover’.
His emotional connection to his words and his passion are relatable & inspiring.
The Intro immerses you into a dream state with mesmerising percussion instrumentals
Looking at this non-stereotypical wordsmith:
A long-haired, casual, big man definitely stirred up my judgments.
How good is he going to be?
Jon Wayne has an effortless dope flow and on point rhyming.
This track ( taken from his ‘Rap album 2, 2017) is a personal narrative documenting his rise in the hip hop industry.
He decided at an early age that if he “made it” he would revel in the hip hop music fame lifestyle.
as he raps
Life’s too short for modesty.
This album is an album that “saved” Jon Wayne’s life as he was a full-blown alcoholic before he wrote this album. It is a product and a process of how he recovered from drinking.
The instrumentals layered under Jon Wayne’s beats and bars immerse you into his world of how he made it & he backs up his more bold lyrics with introspective lyrics that reveals how his experiences & character are informed.
The song is structured as a chronological timeline of his experiences. It is like a spoken word diary.
His lyrics have a bite to them that doesn’t come across as ostentatious (it may help that he looks like a big cuddly brother or friend)
2006 Dilla died and i was living off his gift
His candour & his ability to relate his experiences in a way that establishes what he wants to do in hip hop shows an endearing vulnerability. He is not afraid to state he promised himself that he would “body shit” ( and embrace his career ) if he became successful.
There is a depth to his lyrics and style of rapping that reveals someone who is not going to take his career or life for granted and will embrace all of it. He will even revel in his alter ego because of how far away he veered from being in a position to be so philosophical, and existentialist about expressing himself.
if I feel God in my home?Maybe, I write because I’m feeling odd in my bonesI wrote my poems so I could stay in my zoneThinking: Why go to chug when I exorcise this demon I’m not thinking of those
His soothing, smooth easy style of emceeing unravels a personal and autobiographical narrative. He raps so eloquently about ideas beyond his rise to the music industry that he is 100% G.O.A.T.
Big up to credible talent showing the best of the talent on the west coast of contemporary hip hop artists
Content: How I got my daughter back- and issues of control/being out of control
This morning I woke up with a feeling of loss and a heavy anchor weighing me down. I should have been buzzing. I was three hours away from meeting up with a girl who works with a mental health charity and to work together on a one off workshop to close the stigma between the volunteers and the people they help. Below is all I had to type this morning: warning alert: very woe! woe! woe is me !and not WOW WOW look at me go.
THIS IS WHAT I MANAGED TO WRITE YESTERDAY MORNING :
Why do I only see ugly? What is wrong with me.I can’t love my cat or daughter or partner cos I have trouble accepting me? Why is outer beauty so important to have when I see the beauty of people in all their different guises? My heart has been rung out . The salty ness stings increasingly as it courses through my veins. Pumping –you are ugly you arenot good enough.Why now? Why these feelings now? My next challenge — like a bull waiting , snorting – A Red mist descends. Red mist that at the end will be.
I had writers block I couldn’t think of anything poetic to say. All words seemed shit and I felt shit.
So let me get real and tell you what is really on my mind My head has been doing 360 degree turns lately like that possessed chick in every movie about hauntings and possession. Except it has been me not some movie. My weight has been going up and up – I have had no control. Even with me eating healthily. The numbers have kept on going up. I have been getting a daily beasting from the Goddess of hard core exercises -Jillian Michael. No bullshit. No pansy-ing about. No quitting. I am no quitter.Not a sinker. No Titanic. Why is this fucker in my head fucking with me now? I’m finally getting somewhere with myself and what I want to invest all my working time in.
Yup, so I have really been struggling with my mind for a few months Isn’t that crazy? Me wanting to help people who are struggling? I’m struggling.
I had to let go of the figures on the scale. I’ve never done that. How did I do it? Well, I decided I like eating (yes, Anorexics can like eating) and I eat healthily already so, I was not about to go hungry and become ill again. No, this is my time. I wasn’t going to start taking overdoses to cope with the madness inside me — skewered. Grilling me .It was bedlam in my head. True bedlam.
I stopped weighing myself every day. I CAN’T BELIEVE IT EITHER. I carried on with 40 minutes of an intense cardio workout . I didn’t carry on doing 3-4 hour workouts like I have done previously. I did not start monitoring my fluid intake. In fact I did the opposite and btw my skin looks the best it ever has. I had to get moving. Get out the house and live. The critters inside jittering and chattering and fluttering chaotically in my mind could carry on.I carried on with life.
I got out there and I followed through on my next goal. I have my daughter back . I’m already a student with full BA(hons) in Arts and the humanities. I’ve booked our wedding for next year. The one I was never ever going to have. I am finally in a place to help people.
I don’t care if I don’t get paid I’m getting so much back from this.
You know what is even more chaotic than my recent state of mind? Okay -ready? The training I have been put on to do, is all stuff I worked out on my own and with my family when social services wanted to put my daughter up for adoption.
How come they didn’t tell me about a 12 week course called called WRAP ( WELLNESS RECOVERY ACTION PLAN) that helps a person put together a support package if a person’s health starts to get distressed?
This is not some new concept or specialised training. It’s been going on for years and being taught in prisons and schools today. Why didn’t any of the social workers I know signpost me in these directions?
I stayed up into the early hours of the morning for weeks. Researching online to find an answer to convince social services that I could be a mom and have times when my mental health isn’t all that cracking. In my research I came across something called ‘ the circle of protection’ (very Lion king – the zulu bit -you know what I’m on about?) An epiphany or something.
Why had none of these highly qualified social workers, guardians of the court, these professionals but myself thought to put a contingency plan in place?
When my daughter was put under an interim care order. Obviously, I attended court. The letter for the court date arrived days after the court hearing. I was lucky that I had my family to give me the heads up. I didn’t know that the alleged assault charges against me , that had been dropped (because their was no physical evidence to suggest that I shook my 12 week old daughter) was only the beginning of an incredibly long f*ck*ng journey home. I was like Hercules and his 12 labours.
Back to the morning of 14/12-Confused, in a state of panic-The former manager of social services – I like to call her Miss Hannigan-you know from ‘Annie’ the movie? I swear she looks and acts like Miss Hannigan – every professional I described her too-could not keep a straight face.
They knew exactly who I was on about. Anyway, so after court, the wooly and rather snivel cardigan came into view-like a red flag. Her voice was the second thing I noticed ,she sounded like one of Marge’s sisters from the Simpsons.
I was like : Where is my daughter going? You can’t just take her from me!
She spluttered in that voice.
Stop the drink-stop the shit and sort your life out . I wish she could take her own advice.
I found out about a 12 week group called the FREEDOM PROJECT that was running in my neck of the woods. In a nutshell it is a 12 weak group that helps women understand why we enter and stay in abusive relationships. I took Miss Hannigans advice and self-referred myself to my LOCAL SUBSTANCE MISUSE TEAM and I engaged with a wonderful woman to work out what my drink issues were and how I could manage them. We tried various plans until we both agreed that whilst all this was going on, drinking was probably not going to be drunk for the ‘right reasons’.
I went to every mother-baby group I could could go to.
I could only see my daughter 10 hours per week. I missed 7 contact sessions in 12 months. There was a local contact centre only 5 minutes up the street from where I lived. I had no problems with anybody in that contact centre. Lots of positive feedback. The contact worker who had become emotionally involved told us she had been taken off as our contact worker. Social services and my ex felt that the contact worker was being biased. It is not my fault that every other person who met him thinks the same thing. Whatever that may be.
A new contact lady comes on the scene. We did not mix well. It happens in life. I can’t love everyone.
Next thing I know and I was now taking two buses to go and see my child — in a contact centre monitored by cctv like a criminal. This is how the dynamics of our relationship went. If I got on with spending time with my child and didn’t talk much with the contact worker-she said I was being hostile. If I did chat with her-she said I was distracted and not mentally focused on my child.
This contact person has no mental health qualification. Her job is to collect children from carers/family homes and take them to a ‘neutral’ meeting/contact centre and to make sure the child or children get back home safely. She is a chuffing human. All her notes ( she was a fan of all the Disney songs — those notes were just as agonising to hear) were being gurned into the social workers reports.This is one opinion from someone who was not even qualified. It felt like she was there to prod and provoke a reaction out of me.
I asked the court to authorise a hair strand test for alcohol and drugs to be done. The test was only done 7-8 months after my baby was taken into foster care. It came back negative that I was an alcoholic and drug taker. I am on prescription meds so that obviously came up. The non alcoholic levels of drinking found in my hair proved to them I had drunk alcohol but not at the levels they were making out.From the period I decided to go teetotal the levels had reduced even more. It all came back negative.
I was in a very violent and manipulative relationship. This ahem… man treat me like something he found in the gutter. He warped my mind. My mental health was exacerbated in that relationship. I dealt with this issue and I don’t want to say more on here out of respect for my daughter. He walked away when he lost control. When my daughter is at an age she can make and formulate her own opinions that will be the time I decide to give her the information about her paternal father and seek him out and ask him whatever questions she wishes too.
I paid nearly £400 to do a parenting course online because social services stated I could not do a certain group because my ex was attending it and my daughter had to be over 5 years of age. He got on it because he has two sons under 18. I got my daughter back under a full care order-on the 28/04/2013 . She was not even three years old and all of a sudden I could attend this 12 week government funded parenting course for free. I had THIS IRO ‘professional’ come into my home and threaten me. She tried to wind me up because I made a comment about her not even having met my daughter and she was the person to ratify the adoption plan. She sat on my living room suite and re-iterated that it was her that ratified the adoption plan and still held that view. If I had a problem with her then I could change IRO’s.
I looked her straight in the eyes and I said ‘NO, you and me are going to see this through to the end.-It was like something out of a western movie. Eyeballing one another.
‘Yes. we will’, she puffed out her chest and chuckled to her ‘henchman’ .The person she brought with her to intimidate me. What makes me want to poke out her eyehole is at the final LAC review meeting she was hugging me and saying I had taught her something about people with mental health issues and she realised how ignorant she had been. This woman works with dozens of cases like mine everyday. Mental health is not a new endemic in society. I hope ,you the reader can see why I am ranting at this…
I always say ‘I hold up my hands I am far from being perfect‘. I would actually like this to be engraved on my grave. I have said the phrase so many times. The thing is I put in the effort in and they did not want to own up that they screwed up and I wasn’t what they read on paper and what they thought I would be like. ALL PEOPLE WITH MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES ARE DELUDED RIGHT? HAVE NO SENSE OF REALITY…
Here is my point, It didn’t have to go straight to adoption but it was easy for them to place my innocent 12 week year old child. Blue eyed with blonde hair and not soiled and tainted from being ragged around a defunct system. No behaviour issues. An easy adoption case. They call it ‘twin tracking’
Ha , you should have seen the guardian’s face when I told her that the chances of my daughter being adopted after being told that mental health issues run in her paternal and or maternal family drops. She was 25% less likely to get adopted. Oh they loved me. My legal team were ace. I communicated and I asked questions and I researched.
I hope a few social workers will be there to learn something about mental health .
I’m not angry. I finally know why I went through all this shit. Now I can do the professional training and help other people. I’m not bitter- AM I F*bitter-F*CK?
Thank you social services for giving me such a hard time. It has led me to take the actions to where I am in this new chapter in my life. I am strongand empowered and passionateand every time I have fallen in my life, I get up.
These other less invasive helpful services should be taken into account and be brought to the attention of a person before they start taking kids off their parents and family without the full facts. I’m not talking about the families where abuse goes on. I’m telling you what I have experienced There is so much wrong with the system. I’m gonna volunteer my heart out.
Thank fuck for silver linings.
I not only have my daughter and my partner and my beautiful family and friends to live for but I have been given a gift of knowledge and I will be trained to help people who need some support and advice. I must share this knowledge of how I got my baby girl back and how much I have changed and how exhilarating and terrifying it is but it is worth the fight. I’m not the only one. There are so many more who are terrified to talk because they feel threatened and bullied by social services.
CHANGE must happen and I will do anything I can to be a part of that. If you have read this far. Thank You. Never give up your right to speak . I had a ‘gagging order’ imposed upon me when my child was a ward of the courts( This is the law in England) . I don’t anymore and I am well within my legal rights to post this. I want to use my skills and my creativity in writing and acting to help people remember how to communicate again and it is a right of theirs to have a voice…
P.S. I still am partial to a cocktail or two when I’m not looking after my health for one thing or another-usually for a dress to fit in to go somewhere.
P.P.S. I have written a stage play inspired by these events with a Brecht like influence. I wrote it for my final end of module assignment for my degree at the Open university and I got a 1st for it. I might put it up sometime . I might not.
“… It’s passed on! This parrot is no more! It has ceased to be! It’s expired and gone to meet it’s maker! This is a late parrot! It’s a stiff! Bereft of life, it rests in peace! If you hadn’t nailed it to the perch, it would be pushing up the daisies! It’s rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible. This is an ex-parrot!”
In my darkest moments when air extinguishes all light
Hopelessness hangs heavy above me
Spongy , dense
A Cloud with a fierce clout.
I scramble around seeking for a match
I hear the mirthful giggle of a child
The purrs of a blissed-out cat.
My senses are aroused -Suddenly
The rain pelts down, the wind whips, lashing my face, arms- my entire mortal skin.
* This Borderline poem was written a week before I attempted to take my life (again).I ended up in Critical Care in a coma for 5 days & in ICU for a further 6 days. I was discharged from hospital on the 21st of May 2020 *
Please, make sense of reality.
Use a stream of consciousness
words to vent,
A discovery in recovery
Fathom out sense because words are only as good as the interpreter.
Could add literary success to a Gravatar profile in an ebook
Add few drafts poured into that fulminate crunched up chaos.
This doesn’t invoke a feeling of literary success.
Struggling to convey all words .
Reciprocated words are often misinterpreted
Another attempt to convey these words
Perhaps one person will see this array of affray spread its torment defecating the inner spiral case of the
It swirls descends these steps in every way.
The moment to call it a day
This draws an outline forever have to have the last say.
Hear me proclaim
Don’t want to carry on living this way
It overstays — the bailiff texts for rent arrears
What is laid down?
I’m not done yet.
Hanging by a thread it’s tethered
Seen many days to identify as weathered
Hanging by a thread
This is my life purpose!
Final chance to meet my fate
Waited for this all my life
A mystery date with a severed soul mate.
Taught & tethered & weathered is this rope
I’m no tight rope walker.
I’ve become my own word stalker
Shoulda, coulda, woulda arrested these rants before my digress
Wait in this hidden corner.
Evidently I’ve learned that survival is innate.
It ain’t easy to digest the days I’m not blessed to eat from a plate.
keep rising up despite a life times worth of trip-ups.
Until I die
One fine day
I’ll face the final exit of my mortality
I’ll know the truth
Either way it’s gonna end up with a body
Subconsciously know why I feel
It’s called humanity
What do I know about that damp dark corner entertaining souls I’ve yet to meEt?
Going to have to wait for a future promising chance we haven’t dreamt of taking yet.
If I lose all memory
Forget those words
soggy, wet, lost to another realm of the bereft
Lest I forget.
I write to recover.
Be happy or die trying.
Simultaneously a resilient species & inconveniently inept
About We work with young people from disadvantaged backgrounds aged 13 to 30 to inspire and enable them to succeed in the career of their choice. We also influence others to create a fairer society in which everyone, regardless of their background, can flourish.
A lot has changed since Stephen Lawrence’s murder in a racist attack in 1993, but some things have stayed the same. Too many young people still struggle to succeed because they are disadvantaged by factors beyond their control, such as where they are born, the school they go to, or any discrimination they may face.
At the Stephen Lawrence Charitable Trust, we don’t accept that your background should limit what you can achieve. We work with young people from disadvantaged backgrounds aged 13 to 30 to broaden their view of what’s possible. We help them to gain the knowledge, skills, and qualifications they need to pursue the career of their choice, and we support them to progress through the early stages of their career. We also work with community groups, companies and others to create a fairer society in which everyone can thrive.
We know that creating a society that is fairer to all will take time, but we are already making a difference to the people we work with every day, and this is being carried into the rest of their lives. Our vision is that every person, regardless of their background, has the opportunity and support to flourish in a society that treats them with fairness and respect.
We believe: All young people should receive the education, training and help they need to reach their potential All young people should receive the information and support they need to make informed choices about their education and future careers Everyone should have the opportunity to progress in their career based on their skills and abilities, not their background Senior managers in every company and every industry should reflect the rich diversity of people in the UK.
I’ve finally received my results for my 1st year, doing my Masters, in Creative writing.
PASS-with merit. I officially can use more random letters after my name — ha ha!
I am now in possession of a post-graduate certificate in the Arts and Humanities!
How’s this going to help me with what I won’t do?
I have a dream.
I do. 😀
One of my goals is to move back to France. They love people with diplomas. I hope to get a well paid job there. I need to book a trip to The French embassy later on this year. My husband has decided he is going to take on my surname and become a French national. He’s English!
He’s not only English, he is Northern, from West Yorkshire.
I feel so uneasy about my family not having a passport. My entire life, It was drummed into me to always have my passport (in date)in case, we moved countries.
Which we did- a lot!
Moving on . ( pun unintentionally intended :D)
What’s happening in my life?
Loads of shit- ha ha! as usual.
I’m doing better – I keep making a come back. Oh, life – you little tease!
Dare me to live.
Dare me to succeed!
MENTAL HEALTH UPDATE
Yeah, it’s been.
up and down,
up again ,
very up –
not quite sure
aargh why did that and that and that and ..
did I do that?
Those kind of moments, really.
Surely someone can relate?
Not happy about a medication increase in my anti depressant.
I don’t of any person who is on (high/ highest legal doses) of
Two anti psychotics
Two anti anxiety tablets,
and sleeping medication.
I know my health posse want the best for me.
I don’t bullshit them.
I tell if I’ve been using shit coping mechanisms, good ones. Thoughts ,feelings…
I made my psychiatrist laugh.
He offered me psychology therapy — again .
I was like:
‘Look Dr J, seriously every time I sign up to a pyschologist , they leave!’
All my psychologists have left me half way through doing whatever new pycho babble, current trend treatment , is used, to deal with folk such as myself.
One dude, fell asleep in a couple of our sessions.
So, I was like
‘ Listen, I know how to use CBT/DBT, I know how to communicate and talk. I know what keeps me well . I just want a cure’
Another laugh escapes from Dr J.
He is a legend.
A legend ? yes, but not a wizard 😦
He totally gets me and I feel I have a choice in medication changes etc..
I’ve asked to come off one of my meds because I don’t see the point of being on it. It hasn’t helped me.
These meds have affected my memory. I’m terrified of getting Dementia. I’ve been on (legal) tablets since I was 13/14 and I’ve never been off medication.
Talking about memory.
I’m using my creative outlets to start getting into the open mic poetry scene .
I love performing but my memory is really rubbish. I’m going to brave it by doing more live poetry next week. I’m excited. Nervous. It’s all good.
I have my final year of my MA to keep me — super occupied. There is a lot of work to do. For part of my thesis ( check me out)
I’m thinking of using my blog to interview creative folk who live in my community to talk about, their work, (durr!) Creativity and their mental health. My photographer mate is on board to take pictures. Some people have shown interest — yeah!
My heads occupied which is good.
How will doing this help me with my thesis and final work?
Well, I am going to use this year of discovery and research on the link between mental health and creativity as an alternative form of therapy to cope with life’s unpredictable moments.
Then I will have loads of inspiration to write a film script (120 minutes) on a character ,who , is thrown back into society after a long stint in mental /prison institutions , and who is looking to find him/herself and another way of being and expressing him/herself positively, in society.
The opening scene will kind of look like this
I have an ending – (a bit abstract at the moment) – saying there words:
‘I look around for the first time with clarity. And see I’m exactly where I need to be. Around the misfits. The beautiful misfits just like me.’
DAISY’S UN NAMED CHARACTER
It’s all early days and I still have 4 scripts to write, a critique and a character analysis on a famous playwright to do before the final chapter.
All in all. I’m alive, optimistic-ish, full of emotion, drive, passion , a pain in the ass but just doing my thing.
All terribly boring really… 😀
So, I am back!
I can’t commit daily to blogging but I have joined a group on Facebook.
I’m a newbie, its good be around other bloggers again. I’m hoping it will keep me off Facebook and keep me connecting with people like yourself. People who use their time more productively. Doh, oh the irony.
One rant before I go : I wish people would stop leaving public posts about my appearance on my Facebook.
If you ever happen to read this
I know you are having a shit time dealing with your own weight issues. I’m well aware of mine. Please take a look at yourself. Look after yourself first. If you don’t – FUCK OFF!
(context for this pieceI’ve been thinking about the words we ( I) use, (perhaps flippantly) at times. Without really thinking about the meaning of what we say to describe a person.An example? Crazy.
My 8-year-old daughter uses this word to describe anything / any a person who seemingly comes across as alien or eccentric to what she doesn’t understand people’s behaviour & words.
When I found out about the All Words Matter campaign that started a few years ago over being conscious of using the words we use to label people, like refugees versus using the word asylum seeker, I became inspired to write, Inspiration for this piece was taken from the urban dictionary).
I also want to challenge my vocabulary to use words that have an influence on the way we treat people.It’s about being aware of what we say & this culture of using words that take the English/ other languages and filter it through hashtags, miscommunication thus preventing people from appreciating & understanding other cultures.