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Confessional poetry

Loss of control
Increased numerical equation
Detract from the value of self-worth.

Mind full
Mindful

bloated

Aspirations snipped loose by an unearthly, scale driven puppet master
Reduces an entire psyche to a chemical embarrassment.

Good mood desires nourishment
the live to eat philosophy
A heavy burden the beast bears herded in.

restricted to forage on cashing out a societal life policy.

A one manned island
ravaged
to its hunger

Crown me

Own your crown like it is your temple- for the crown you choose to wear will define your silhouette to others and your temple reveals the boundaries that form the foundations of your character.These are my words for today.

Fledgling or not -here I come

Today my thoughts confound me.

Bombard

Hijacked emotions detonated into a familar war zone.

The survivors feel mixed up for another mistaken identity

passport confiscated by newfound enemies.

A glimpse

the letter

E
motion

this queue finally advances

25 letters fated to the gates of uncertainty.

A survivor is stuck in the middle -it’s me -a headless body with a hidden agenda

Skin flushed assimilates bloody shadow a crimson hue mane of the unflinchers –
pale, skeletal, naked, destitute, some even of their robbed of own teeth

a pile-up -bodies all shook
adorned by a hand, ankle, A cold shoulder, one fair nipple, a flaccid penis

Perhaps your inner idealist
can resurrect these lives distorted by final moments -a conscious full of shame.

No dignity

No burial for those of faith

Souls denied a peaceful resting place.

The faithless blasted out mid breathe energy kinesthetic Life mid beat -legged it

A desperate plight -scientific proof hearts can beat or flee.

My body under constant surveillance

The scourge of self-scrutiny

Double doubt implants enhance all traces of unwanted memories

Should I hide my body

my identity?

The very essence of my being?

Caught unawares

emotions -use tic tactics

Thoughts use unrestrained strategies.

Haunched knees

propped up by bare feet

conditioned to protect my diasporic body

Roughly re-examine all once held beliefs.

Displaced her head!

how contrary I would have said

pure insanity I willingly would share.

If I don’t have any thought

or an opinion I’ve sought out myself.

I’ll become a diminutive

No person will ever see me

No person will hear my roar.

This voice will become non-existent -all my declarations are torn from the books of history
uninformed therefore never spoken nor unwritten

My right is to live and be!

My right is to feed peacefully

not between flippant mercenaries abiding by wall division protocol that I can’t see.

body displacement

head

disconnected to set a prenup engagement

How is it I feel the pressure of the tummy bloat after the soldiers who gloat

Finally relieved

of their lack of familiarity?

No sense die-hard before a sensation penetrates the first bloom of intimacy

They forget how hard they push

enter the orifice

Where I learned how to formulate words.

All I have is words and sound.

They take liberties- jabs & jeers are the echo chamber to my inner core.

Rotting

Bed rest

Bedsores,

These are the spoils of war.

Degraded

Defaced

Disgraced

My Emotions are absolute in their conviction

My sentence – A Disempowered daily mantra

I am to be their common whore.

a concubine filled up on spew, chunks of bile flotsam

traces keep me chronically ill.

Medical treatment denied because I’ve forgotten how to express my will

The West states I’m worth it !

the East send out a search party

Direction?

Possibly

on wise mind hill

There is no privacy.

My body is presented against my will

These clothes cover up the tight jeans that have become my only woe

Self-growth without a choice in how I present my self

I can’t

I have.

Scratch these newly formed scabs for I have lost my flair

writing words to recover

self-oppression lost out in the talent show of acquired skills

Recovery is heartbreaking.

Hoochie flavoured scent
sniff out trouble keeps me imprisoned

I look up -the window is clear still

Or perhaps my beliefs are outdated.

Murder with intent

disarm these emotions

strangers with a familiar stance

Physical appearance is my only strength?

How Naive a woman can be

One strip away from freedom

I claim a culture of sound

unification

Dance a tango inner peace with an outward serenity.

matching outfits

Silk lined hemmed skirts

embroidered letters spell out a movement of hope.

I’m one dancer

I’m one dissident

My possessions:
Passion

a fledgeling feather

& ink well
will deliver

A pregnant pause followed by a ward filled with the birth of more words

sentences will start to show

the labour of courage pushed out in its full placenta -reborn – free feathered fledgelings take flight

-A yoke is sky born

These are my words -maybe she wrote/ be happy or die trying.

Inner dictator: Food for thought

PREAMBLE BIT  -feel free to dig in to the poem and scroll down now

I’m looking forward to  next weeks monthly spoken word night in my  Halifax, West Yorkshire.

Turn The Page  

I get to gorge on my inner dictator and speak for three minutes & perform & be listended to.

Oh, the power over the masses.  (Ha Ha)

This month some regular chip off the old block decided the theme should be potatoes!

If I were the dictator I would not choose to talk about something as common and earthy, and the   -potato `is on  my unsafe food lists).

 Even inner dictators need a slot with their name to dicate for 3 minutes if you don’t you will be denied your voiced& forced to listen to all the other rival inner dictators.

The only time potato poems event  should take place is in   Africa  with millions of starving children with “natural” eating disorders. This is a recipe for disaster because,  mental illness fed by  oppression increases achances of become a real future dicator starving their own people.

So this is my potato theme in yer face poem  

 

 

Hark! I feel the desperate need to fletcherize.

 

What? Is this some new mumbo jumbo, hybrid– combination form of exercise?

Yes,   I would imagine it involves some motivation from a person with no predilections to become easily disheartened.

 

Why can’t you just eat sensibly, stop this new wave of choosing a new flavour every month-

to keep up with fitness promoters incentives to keep people outsmarted? 

It’s a new rage- it’s catching. It takes great skill, I can’t help but swallow great lumps of it, 7 days a week –

such is the weight of my grief.

Sounds like a disease with such a symptom as that. Rage is not all  it is cracked up to be as a moderate form of stress relief.

It is not just some novelty – like limited -edition candy bars being sold to profiteer the next big entrepreneur.

Oh really, so next you will l tell me it is an exact science – proven to actually have more lasting benefits than summers worth of lazing on the beach in a bikini –  eyed up by the oil slick crowd that draws in like a tide -ogling to be near.

Oh no. It has been well proven that to engage in this exercise is likened to yoga. It is a practice.

The evidence for this is where? a desert far away – hiding in the form of H20 in a well prickled out cactus?

Look, I’m not asking you you join the parade and get down and groove with us who choose to exert ourselves in this way.

I know, I just don’t want you to get sucked in the PR vortex and lose yourself with an accompaniment £10  diet plan-

 to prove the results work when you have your weekly weigh day.

Tsk, I’m not just going to gobble it all up without reading the terms and conditions.

Well, I am most sincere when I say I am glad you have paused for thought -slowed down your impulsive urge to guzzle down additional condiments –

and other unnatural apparitions

In practice, I am going to be mindful and chew on these words slowly and deliberately.

Wise words, coming from someone who is usually so careless when it comes to honouring your basic right at retaining your liberty.

No offence but you partake in media shake-ups, that regurgitate out a new shape each season,  with an acute, floundering dignity.

Triangle.

Circle.

Square.

Heart.

Diamond

Potato

 

Mmh, that’s sparkingly rich. I only look up at those who have a celestial essence of shape – one quite like the star.

 

Well, while you persecute me for attempting to live my life in a shape I desire to acquire- with all due respect,

 

I will strive to be what I want to be and you be who you are.

 

Wait!  I need 20 minutes to digest all this information.

 

Now, that it the right attitude – jut enough time to satiate before you give in to more temptation. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sa Roc

I’d be letting myself down  if I didn’t post about my  Eating disorder or mental illness nor if I didn’t write about my body image issues.

I shouldn’t be alive. I’ve been in & out of hospitals sectioned, medicated, threatened with E.C.T. therapy, my Dad didn’t want to care for me  & asked social services to get involved in my life. I had other family members who loved me more & didn’t think that is what families do to their children.

I am still alive (obviously). I wish that kids could learn about body image & emotional intelligence at school.

Body Image is the mental picture you have of your body. It includes attitudes and feelings about how you look & how you think other people see you.

 

https://www.beateatingdisorders.org.uk/types

Hosted by the Mental Health Foundation, Mental Health Awareness Week 2019 will take place from Monday 13 to Sunday 19 May 2019. The theme for 2019 is Body Image – how we think and feel about our bodies.

Body image issues can affect all of us at any age. During the week we will be publishing new research, considering some of the reasons why our body image can impact the way that we feel, campaigning for change and publishing practical tools.

https://www.mentalhealth.org.uk/campaigns/mental-health-awareness-week

My stepfather used to tell me I was fat & would eat sweets & cake in front of me. He was a bastard for many more reasons than that….

People with HEALTHY Body Image…
▪ Accept bodies come in different shapes and sizes.  ( I accept that as long as it doesn’t affect me)
▪ Know there are good things about their bodies. ( sure- legs……….)
▪ Are comfortable with their bodies.  (Most of the time I wish I could swap heads with someone for peace of mind)
▪ Are critical of the ‘ideal’ body seen in the media. (Yes

People with UNHEALTHY Body Image…
▪ May think a lot about how they see themselves or how they think others see them
▪ Maybe uncomfortable with their bodies. (I’m not shy just aware of it).

I found  Sa Roc when I was going through another post-suicide blues.

I’m also inspired by her courage to talk about her own self harm & body issues

I dealt with feeling inadequate or less worthy because I didn’t fit conventional standards of what was considered beautiful,” Sa-Roc explains to HipHopDX. “There was also a lot of unexpressed anger and pain that I didn’t feel comfortable or courageous enough to share with my loved ones, so I took it out on myself.

I  identified with her honesty & her strength, and her vulnerabilities.

Why?

Because she emcees about how much trauma she went through & thinks that as an artist she needs to empower women especially in the one-dimensional world we live on social media. She has her own style &  doesn’t conform to any style but her own. She has a message. She wants other women to feel free & she wants to break the discrimination of men in the industry dismissing talented & credible female emcees.

People forget that women have been instrumental in Hip Hop since its inception,” she says. “Most of us are really familiar with the early male Hip Hop icons and pioneers, but women have been present and just as instrumental since the beginning. One of those women, who my name actually pays homage to, is Sha-Rock.

SA ROC

Her album is a personal inspection of how her experiences and childhood shaped her personal views.

Sa Roc is in a league of her own because she wants other women to feel empowered and to be self-defined on their terms.

I look to the past a lot.

And worry about the future.

I lived in other homes though I had a home.

I was lost.

I was dying.

I survived.

I’ve looked to others for approval to my detriment.

I’ve turned away from people who put me down.

I’ve been fighting an eating disorder-Anorexia since I was 5 years old. It is a chronic illness & I have a Bipolar & Emotionally unstable Personality disorder too.

But I think I just had a very mixed up childhood & responded to trauma by turning on myself. I had a lot of love and a lot of craziness.

I love my family.

I’ve erased /dissociated from my memories of the past. I have huge gaping holes of cosmic proportions. I have blacked out so much.

I’ve been in many hospitals for suicide attempts mine or watched family close to me harm themselves others, Sectioned many times, I’ve been drugged by doctors, men, myself.

It doesn’t make me a victim. I know how hard I fight with my thoughts every second of the day.

I too live with my guilt

I have moments when I Think I’m worth it. 😉

I can’t seem to confirm. Even when I try……

I always get back up after getting knocked down.

Sa Roc is proud of her African heritage &  she embraces it.

I am not a black African, I am a white South Africa. Lived there for many years.

I was from the pre &  post-apartheid era.  I mixed with as many cultures as I came across. There are many.

I’ve seen a lot of gun crime – had one pointed to my head, seen my mates owing money to drug dealers with guns, I’ve met diamond smugglers & nearly ended up dead. I almost lost my life to living with Niagarians. Attending to the bar & getting addicted very quickly. I’ve had Mandrax dealers set a dog on me.  I’ve just seen a lot of guns. South Africa, yaar?

I have regrets ( I’m working to not dwell on them)

I dig the chorus cos it lends the tune a bit of soul.

I’ve starved myself physically, emotionally & spiritually

The chorus is like a mantra I  sing to trick myself into believing a lot.

I love stars (even if they are dying)

I’ve self-harmed in so many ways -self-harm, knives, drugs,  toxic people…

I was advised by my doctor & professionals to have an abortion in 2010. I regret my actions though I know I did the right thing.

I went on to have my daughter who will be 8 in October.

I’ve had many break downs and I’m still here.

I’ve fought many people & gained strong allies too.

I’m on a spiritual journey not religious.

My eating disorder consumes me.

I too don’t know what I would do if I could reverse time?

I have experienced a  life that many people wouldn’t believe if I told them.

I’ve had gold teeth 😀

I love the drumming bit in 3.18 min ( What a #goatbah)

She’s got gumption.

Listen more………. 😀

Read in between the lines

A few years ago (when I was in college) I tried to make money & raise awareness of my eating disorder by sharing my story with a scrupulous magazine. ( many years ago) & all my words, my moms were distorted.

I was naive. Don’t buy into any one’s media hype if it makes you feel shit about yourself.

The article ended up pitting me & my Mom against one another.

I don’t believe my Mom made me anorexiC Be careful of what the media is doing and how it wants to portray people. Sensationalised bullshit.

First of all, I have never called my Mom – ‘mum’.

If they can twist words then they can make us want to look like people who don’t even exist.

I hate being skinny but I love the security it gives me.

I hate being hungry & I hate feeling full.

Mum made me an Anorexic.     

Nobody talks like this and these are not my written words!

I’m glad I wrote these words.

Keep Livin

My body isn’t a shrine

Nor half as gory as the scene of a horrid crime.

It’s not that abortion clinic

beating hearts put on a foetus pant

in

mime.

It’s not pretty.

I don’t do chocolate box

Not in my city.

This image I have…

of a body in the stocks.

I may look thin. I’m a result of Eating disorders, body image issues & a wasted life on self-destruction.

Well… I’m not dead yet……..

(It’s painful to write about this cos I’m starving my body, mind & soul. I won’t give up!

So I’m going to eat some sushi & smoke a blunt.

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I don’t know how much I weigh. I don’t care to or dare to out of fear that I will feed even more into my “issues”.

I don’t look or feel good.

This is me today. Thin & far from happy.

A few selfies to make me feel tons better . (sarcasm alert)

Every day is a chance to start again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Love your body And don’t strive to look like anyone else. Talk about your emotions. Don’t internalise. You don’t deserve to hurt yourself this way. It is suicide. You may want to die & get close to it. You are here today. Make it count.

I’m out of here.

No masterpiece to find here… just words. It’s how I survive.HP-PIC-green-ribbon (1)

Sa Roc

My mental health kick ass anthem. If you are female you should listen to this to gain strength over your triumphs and understand your grief. Men – if you love women- you will appreciate our complexity and emotions and way of self expression through Sa Roc’s lyrics- she is dynamite.

This is testimony to the massive talent on the hip hop/rap scene in the U.K.

Passionate about music, cultures, original beats and discovering new genres?

Hey I’m still here. I’m suffering from coming back from a walking slumber.  Mental health problems,eh?

Who would choose to have them?

Ha ha!

Not me.

On a lighter note , my Bengal cat, Miss Tatiana

has most definitely inherited my eating disorder.

She puked all over her food. EUUURGH!

Is that meant to be a joke, Daisy?

Well, whatever right?

Keep writing and being creative.

Keep making music and works of arts cos you are all dope.

Here’s a song to blow your mind.

I don’t want to be cheesy and give the lyrics but I may revise this post.

If I do….

You will find the lyrics below.

Listen to GOATS2BDazee – me!

My playlist.

If you  wanna?

When I wake up, no makeup, half naked, I feel like I’m the shit
Pardon my language, but hang ups do not define the kid
No, I’m not flawless, I’m scarred up and I’m fine with it
My body art a laundry list of all of life’s unkindnesses
But—I still sip tea and chant om, and live free, cuz hardships and heartbreaks, turn to rap epiphanies
And mom told me stay woke cuz all gold ain’t glistening
Choose your words wisely cuz the all knowing’s listening
But, no worries. I’m Gucci
My thighs a lil juicy, my dialogue lil awkward, my idols still move me
My life is a movie, like Raheem and Mookie, I’m just trying to do the right thing, hope that it improves me
My bamboos are costume, sue me
You’ll be soon accustomed to me
This the moral, I got royal hemoglobin coursing thru me
And my strength is now inhuman, I get that straight from my umi
Signed and sealed from out the grill of yours and truly

You betta shine on em baby, you a star. You betta
Be exactly who you are-Forever
Cuz they gon try and change your heart. Don’t let up
Cuz You so damn fine, just the way you are
You betta shine on em baby, you a star. You betta
Be exactly who you are-Forever
Cuz they gon try and change your heart. Don’t let up
Cuz You so damn fine, just the way you are

I ain’t get here overnight
I was in that mirror like 4-5 times a week, with my mala beads reciting affirmations like holy rites
And I still don’t know everything
But I guess confessions from 8 x 11s in studio sessions seem like it’s only right
And trust me, this my therapy, fuck yo couch, Finna murk all these Murphy types funny styling me, shut your mouth
Touch me, I’m slaughtering crews, squads, goons, teams, the queen is coming to rule your region, coming for all of your assets, plus your house
I ain’t always have it in me
No tolerance for pretending
I was 14 yrs old forcing pills down my throat so my baby fat diminished
Still got the scars from cutting my wrists when I thought that life was finished
Now they remind me what my lows look like now I know the sky’s the limit
Ok. Never claimed to be perfect
That’s an impossible dream
I’m just saying that I’m worth it
That’s the responsible thing
Spent half my life trying find my light from outside sources, while the only voice that mattered came from me

Lyrics from Genuis.

Be careful what you wish for.

Days go by and merge into one long never-ending Groundhog day at times. Well, it does for me -every now and then.

I create excitement in my life by signing up to do things that I think are going to get me out of the slump. Give my life a wardrobe of scenery changes and with that hopefully comes new feelings.

These feelings are my drug- the euphoria I crave. The rush of blood to the head.  Anything to make me feel worthy.

Be careful what you wish for.

 

 

In all the time I have wished for things to change and things to not stay the same. It is has had good outcomes and bad.

 I guess the crucial question is what is it I have been wishing for that I have created to become my reality. 

What about relationships?

We can all get into “are we doing enough” in our relationships?

Are we living life together and truly going for it?

Be Careful what you wish for.

Sometimes it is okay for things to stay the same.

 

What am I going on about?

Say someone you care about has an appointment for an eye test or a medical review.

You then get a phone call saying that person has to go to hospital to get another opinion on their health status.

Why didn’t this person tell me things could get so serious?  

I’m in shock. I don’t react.

This second opinion then turns into a third opinion.

No more mundane sameness. I have got my wish.

Am I prepared?

To do surgery or not?  This is two people I know and love now, one is definitely   having invasive surgery on Thursday and the other person  is to find out if they should have surgery.

You can’t buy health.

You can try…..

 When your health is steady and away -this is a good time to not wish that there was more going on in your life.

I would rather live the rest of my days partying hardly if it meant the health of the ones I adore didn’t go from not something to worry about, to

fuck what am I going to do if I lose you mode.

Accept that whatever/whomever you have in life  is a blessing.

So what if you don’t have a model’s clothing wardrobe , a TV. the size of an over-inflated sponge bob character?

So what if you don’t get a loads of  likes on your posts, status updates and profile pictures?

 

Yes, all of these things can give you that high we crave. The one that gets our heart beating like a wooden drum.

Success after hard work or not is an exhilarating feeling.

Personally, I just don’t think it would keep my happiness momentum going say, for as long as I had the people around me- well and in my life.

I too want to better myself and have everything better .Sometimes it’s alright if something is serving its purpose and is good enough.

I don’t believe we are put into the world to seek validation from others.

 Though I can’t tell you how many times and years I have wasted seeking it.

There is so much that is superficial – nobody knows what is real.

I watched a  documentary on the fashion industry last week. Watch the TRAILER if you can.  Us ladies and now men strive to achieve to fit into clothes made to look good on a  13/14 or 15 year old child. 

 

Girl-Model-featured
POTENTIAL NEXT BIG SUPER-MODEL !
nadya_vall
NADJA -SAME GIRL AS ABOVE. WE STRIVE TO LOOK LIKE THIS

The targets are the coy lolita looking ones that , say a  girl  out of Siberia -living in a world of poverty at the back end of a communist regime era , with  the promise of earning loads of money and travelling the world off the back of their one playing card- their looks. 

There are children going over  to Asia or the West and can’t speak English and are children and get exploited. There is no glossing over it.

These girls start going to modelling schools as young as 5 years old learning to manipulate the camera –

Make love to it !

 

Isn’t it crazy that most of us humans in this world are  brainwashed into having sick minds?

Isn’t there enough disease and suffering for the taking?

 

We get older and still strive to dress in provocative clothes that  can only look good on a 13/14-year-old model!

That whole sentence is just incongruous.

 

This is the extent to how ill our society is.

How ill we all are.

We get older – fashion can’t survive on yesterdays’ image!

We don’t even have time to get the ‘today’ look off the hanger.

The fashion world and society won’t let us enjoy a moment that extends further than a sales transaction and a bag of goodies ,that mainly ends up as close to your body as,  that sinister lampshade you inherited from some distant relative.

It makes you  shudder every time you pass it or look at it. Epic impulse buy. I buy into it -a lot of us do

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So, we are always chasing the ‘look of tomorrow’,  usually a younger version of some ‘ideal image’ that could easily have found it’s way into the Deity section in the Roman world.

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It is an illusion.

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Our bodies and minds change in our lifetime.  Nature dictates and  so does society.

Often both are in conflict.

We are not meant to be trapped in a peter pan -esque body for the rest of our lives.

I’ve kind of digressed.

Well, I have made it less personal.

This is how the post started-  health and my loved ones as being something personal to me .

I guess I have taken the model industry and society as an example of what our t idea of what healthy and successful is.

 It then becomes something that is hopefully a post we can all relate too.

If it is personal to all of us, maybe we can understand or start to question what is the picture of  true health and success. 

 

What is true happiness?

What is true?

 

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There is no need to go chasing dreams and filling other’s pockets if it is going to make you ill.

Instead of being a small dot in soemone else’s story go and make your own. I’m sure you will get to the end of your story  in a better mental and physical state . HAPPY EVEN!

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Be Careful what you wish for.

 

Expecting

“I know what is its like to be afraid of your own mind and body ”  UNKNOWN   #FollowGreatFootsteps

WHY HAVE I CHOSEN THIS QUOTE?

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YAY!

 

It’s that time of month. I’ve stepped on the dreaded scales and put on weight.  Remember I have an eating disorder. Logic/science  dictates  that when  I am on  my period that I may  have fluid retention.

I’ve been researching about weight gain and I’m on day 3 now and  I should be weighing less according to reliable Google.  😀

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I’m sure I go through this every fucking month but I have selective amnesia. My mind has  compelled me to think   the weight gain has nothing to do with my period. I’ve just got fatter!

when-im-on-my-period

SHOULDN’T I WEIGH  LESS NOW! SCALES BE RATIONAL.

 

MIND FUCK!

My partner has to  live with me and my obsession over weight. He always tells me my weight will go down -it always does.  I want to rip his gonads off him when he says this because my mind is fucking with me, my clothes are tight.

 

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THIS IS WHAT I WANT TO SAY TO MY PARTNER WHO NEVER STOPS EATING CAKE AND NEVER PUTS ON WEIGHT. EVER!

 

 

I exercise daily.

I shouldn’t put on weight.

I’ve lost control. My eating disorder rules me for the next 7 days.

Isn’t that like how long it took to create the world?

Periods and creating the world are pretty epic ,monumental moments.

What if it is true weight gain?

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I guess you have fathomed out that I am not a happy Daisy.  These are the times I miss being so underweight because I don’t have to worry about  my periods. I don’t get them. I don’t want to be anorexic again.

I WANT THE SCALES TO GO DOWN TO MY SAFE WEIGHT ZONE AGAIN!

Is it too much to ask?

 

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Keeping it real

My beliefs haven’t changed. I do believe in the content of my posts. I just want to say that I also have shit days when I don’t feel so accepting of my looks and body and the rest of all that is me. I also want validation through superficial social media websites. The last two days have been pretty fucking miserable. Usually exercise, blogging, interacting with blogs, volunteering, working on new projects and finding ways to be positive with one or two of ‘mothers little helpers; help shift the doom and gloom.

 

Got to give me a break.

Talk and write the truth. This usually works. Write -freestyle it and post. Don’t check if someone may or may not like what I have to say. Minimum editing. None if possible. Small spell check. Hit the publish button, making sure I have attached all files titled ‘vacuous negative energy’ to it, blast it into the blogosphere -somewhere- all the words unravel and collide with an Infinitum of other unread words.

They may or may not get read. Usually, people who enjoy jigsaw puzzles get these kinds of posts.  Guess what? I hate jigsaws!

Bit blunt?  Sure?

 I guess the whole aim of this post is to free myself -Let it all hang out.

So, yeah. I’ not happy and self-accepting all the time. I work at it and I don’t give up. I’m not one dimensional.

I try.

I try to give Happiness and Self-acceptance a secure bosom to lie their heads against. I don’t want doubt, negativity and self hate to  nestle it’s way onto my bosom and go

“Oh look tits! We are gonna suck every last drop of Happiness and Self-acceptance out of them until they a flaccid, wrinkled and bruised.” 

Villainous laughter like “mwahwhwhahahaha” or some other shit. Then they take my head full of shit and slam dunk it. Yes, those three.

They will make me think that me accepting myself and being happy can’t happen outside my mind. They will try and repress the independence of my native tongue. They will find a way to make my rediscovered language seem like a myth– folklore…

It never happened.

There were never words such as Happiness and Self-acceptance. There was never a language that was not approved by them. 

This is why I won’t stop writing empowering posts. Like ‘body image awareness’. Yes, I agree when I try and speak this language, sometimes, I feel like an idiot, a foreigner. I quickly lose my confidence  when I pronounce  it wrong. Use it in the ‘wrong’ context. Oh, how quick my enthusiasm to live freely is so quickly caught up in a net -stenched  in mockery and jibes. HOW DARE I? 

DARE OR TRUTH? I DO BOTH.

I fight to be happy -truly happy- no superficial bullshit

I fight to love my body and me- no superficial bullshit

Always keeping it real