Prescribed; but more than I usually allow myself.
I’ve been d
furious at school.
Sent them a message .
I don’t want to interact.
I know I will have to be momentarily just dandy, for my bee when she gets home, however I may retreat
I don’t want to interact. I want to be alone .
I Hope to have a shower soon, sleep or be a perfect mom, person .
A place – people feel secure , free , loved – not merely an abode.
My body has grown;my head – I want to disown.
I have no place to go
I can run away
Without my own
from the lengths of life’s demands – another 25 metres * here I bloody go!*
There is no
Nothing to burn.
need replacing- precious support to keep my dignity inert or is it alert?
We live in a millennial world.
I want to be .
I want to be not.
La vie en Rose
All the regrets , the mistakes , the people I’ve lost.
I want to leave – die
Before you or my husband , mom and leave
As I am now.
It’s easier knowing you are still breathing
With an upside down frown. Said the cliché crow
I’ll engulf my darkness
With eyes closed, a mind blotted with discombulatory thoughts
Thank you .
The crown of the Willows irrepressible woes
A moment – a weed – a daisy in need –
Is the last sentence a creed?
Who will ever know?
Except the one I title as this: my only foe.
In the shadowed shades of my blues.
I tenderly look for another who I can summon as one who lives life in honour,
Of all that is true.
Those who speak the spoken word in all its iridescent hues.
Colours drape my inner wardrobe.
Yet, I clamber for my grey, nuances of noir.
Catastrophizing all the whites for showing up my yellow gnashers.
Against a blustery pale backdrop of mountains blanketed by capped ice.
Brazen, I stand on the highest peak.
Cheeks misted by tears.
Contemplative in being joyful for the moments of inner peace.
Cast out this unwanted wardrobe.
No more colours in clandestine!
The drab shabby (not so chic) curtains concealing my true identity.
My makeup is not for every entity.
I’m asked to write the truest sentence I know.
Hemingway knew a way to interweave words worth more than bread made from the finest patisserie dough.
Scraping pennies to get by the hard knocks.
We do what we gotta do to get by.
Poverty causes ‘bros before hoes’ and ‘chicks before pricks’.
Keeping my pins steady as balls curve to nebulant sides — it incites fear into my inner stream of consciousness, dialogue conflicts –
Savaged by doubt and insecurity.
I’m on a trip with a Make believe demeanour.
One to conjure up more stamina and longevity-
To warn my inner Hecate to hesitate before she dare pro-curate.
Write to recover through seeping, bandaged wounds.
Riddling the mind with infectious curiosity,
To want knowledge is the power I crave.
It’s my security.
Droplets of lonely anguish torment my darkest spell.
I am the white temptress tempted to awaken the beast inside.
Though, I know it will be the catalyst to an eternity of mocking turmoil.
My final destination is not the country I occupy.
I’m an immigrant
I’m a traitor.
Colonised and imprisoned by outdated Imperialists.
The world is full of egotistical folk in full throws of the delirium tremens.
Murmurs of fragile Life keep me close to the fire.
It scintillates what I know is inside — lying dormant.
Ready to drive out the cancers multiplying with faces frozen,
In that blissful look of the ignorant .
I raise my sword.
It bleeds ink.
It is my heart : my deliverance.
I can’t fathom another way to jolt my instincts to kick out, and rise to take another breath.
I’m the one who needs these murky waters to survive . Forget I too need oxygen and gills to stabilise my Eco system.
If my world was captured by a drone;
I would want it to show me evolved into a hybridised pro-humanity amphibian.
Swimming side by side
dolphins & whales ad infinitum.
inspired by this T -shirt )
Mike / Nike bananas – waaaah?
Don’t believe in a day a tee.
Don’t believe in a dye a tee.
I believe in emotions.
A moral .
If I listened without interrupting ( never filmed my candidates on camera) I’d be past the ignorant rear view mir row ing
dialed hind sight one wave too late.
Long pause… ( episodic moment).
Should have put a hashtag
(#) radiation *may cause seizures * * drug use * misuse * violence * harsh misuse of a vape * .
Film censorship can be deceiving.
I watch many films primed or netted for my viewing,
I see the warnings
How these kids ever going to adjust to life calling ?
I need a bit of tuning.
I started this off topic ness from listening to a past recorded conversation. I’m out of my depth .
I’m out of my depth.
I’ve a 6 4 2 bounce back pillow from the silent sisters who muted on their way to the unseen pleides.
Peel out of the mould
Did I lose you to a Mike bananas T- shirt that the mad republic would ask a beetle to submerge.
These words die with a relic…
. . . . . . . 7 dot dive of dismal drivel.
Beautiful & befuzzling- Especially for foreigners.
My answers are long because the list of pre fixes – to shit – are long …
Horse manure! 🐎 – any tory response especially during ascot season ( the gentrification version ?
Please see pic below
✋️… I’ll try out my wit again..
This looks vaguely like a timeline of the gentrification of the word / class system: * shit*
Have you seen the price of rentals these days ? !
. EPIC FAIL – again.
I’m just not funny 😐 😒.
Waving the red flag..
Gone gorillas in the mist with the word rambunctious ( Stop. Is Google time .)
Am I F***! Waving the red flag !
It’s a doggy 🐕 dog world if you don’t live in China..
Dare I say how it goes if you do live in China 🇨🇳- oops is that a red herring.
( that’s me all over – a false leader )
I’ll stick with my morbid side
Fact : Paris has the highest percentage of irresponsible dog shit picker uppers..
Must be on uppers if they haven’t got the time to pick up dog shit from their little beathoven mutt.
so, basically Paris has the largest amount of doggy doo in the major cities of the world 🌎 to step in.
Oh, I forgot ( I wanted to see if I could try and define rambunctious before I cooled it).
A bit over the top, firstly, too much , horny even ?
And proper definition 👌
Mmh that’s what they say in most
Rape depositions/ statements .
I don’t think rape is something to be laughed at .
Trust me I’ve been there .
Unless they have a small willy.
I can’t use hashtag metoo in this case.
Truth is I don’t have a willy.
Not Bullshit . Potentially batshit
I poured a rather long gin.
Snoop dog influenced me .
#laidback ####’d the crack out of that ..
. Well , on a final note atleast the English language has moved on from human excrement although excrement feels more like an achievement 👏 or an accomplishment than a shit.
I’M MAD SHIZZLE CRAZY .
My mind has been focused on simple acts.
I got lost in the tiniest of fish bowls,
now I have got what I want, my mind is on detonate mode.
123 – it feels like I’ve sold almost all of my souls.
Bolivian marching powder?
No, not that kind of blow
I need a fix to settle these nerves.I have to take it and there are no more chances to ignore.
My very core.
Paddling with or without an oar.
What do I know about writing?
I signed up for this,now it feels like I have sucked myself into my own suicide pact, by leaking out the gas-
Riding on a high:I think I can fly.
I hit the floor -head first.
Brain cells die.
The illusion is no more.
Fish have evolved and learned to grow wings!
I’m a fallen angel, feathers already in place.
I shouldn’t have a problem claiming my precious, idolised rings.
It ain’t hard to fill out my own sin award credit tax.
Therefore, I are pilgrim -like innit mega -sir!
fetch me my gown.
My mind is running on crazy adrenaline,
panic sets in and I am fucked if I can remember whose bed I am meant to be in.
Perspective just got that bit closer
It punched me in the face-
Invisible fists just came at me like a ghost –
Can I do this?
I seem to always get what I want.
Except with emotional IQ situations – I kind of let that one slip into the abyss.
So, I continue to create my own destiny…
Fate is for people living in a book of dizzy ,fairy tale necessity.
I feel the fear.
I’m not gonna lie.
All this sudden knowledge makes me want jump ship and say,
‘fuck! Au revoir, matie. Here, you have a go and steer.’
Fear is good.
It means I care.
Passion is good
It means I will probably fare.
So cool how I fooled my way into school.
This shit could still just backfire- now who’s the cool fool?
Past is a bit tense.
Future has been signed by my consent.
Got to the end – we all want a happy ending.
I made this shit up.
Why do I justify myself to others if I’m not working in a full paid life capacity?
Why do I justify myself to others if I’m not working in a full paid life capacity?
It’s not like we’re still living in a Victorian era where I need to prove I’ve achieved my full belt in chastity.
I’m not kept nor groomed.
I’m a woman of the age of independence. When I hold my breath I think of the oceans of ambition, filling me to a combustion ends- infallibility.
Words to sell the people who haven’t walked a second in my shoes.
Self justification who’s never seen a man who sold ice creams on a beach with his bare arms.
He wouldn’t allow the cha cha dance of life to let him be the one who gave in to defeat.
Even when the sun, it melted into his ebony skin-a parched man not bitter .
Even when children mocked him with no adult to inform them they were creating a culture where we judge people by being born in breach.
These words are going nowhere unless I tell people I’m a winner regardless of the mind state – an alternative view they may one day wish to seek.
Their unbeknownst ignorance of those mountains I’ve so far climbed to be deemed fit in a society increasingly lacking in human empathy just to stay in view
To remain an arm within terre ferme reach
These are my words. This is what I wish to impart. I refuse to give up until my soul recoils from my body,
Honours it’s vow –till death do us part.
If you taunt me I’ve learned
Not to teach nor preach.
Life’s a beach.
I’m a woman of the world with nothing but reach.
Does this sound preachy ?
Shun not what you fear to understand
Don’t stigmatize the most inherent part in you; what makes you human!
Embrace each emotion &feelings.
My belief is if we hide our so called darker sides makes that part of our character stronger and unbalanced
Lessen that burden, become whole:
Be the full rainbow spectrum despite what your favourite colour is…
There is more to us than nuances of shady blacks & untouched white.
We have a choice to give in to or resist emotions that merely reflect we we are in our journey in life.
No journey is stagnant
No feeling is permanent.
Why are some emotions or feelings seen as bad or good? Aren’t they all important and deserve to be felt.
Nothing is stagnant.
It’s our fundamental nature to feel.
What do we do with our emotions ?
Our feelings and thoughts , what do we do with them?
Extract what you need in moderation?
This is not a comforting answer is it?
What is your answer ?
Ghosts floating through the mansion of my mind. It may sound like a great thing to own a mansion as a mind.
I can tell you. It is a place that never sees sunshine, there is dust everywhere, the piano remains out of tune. Every room has something magnificent to find
Dresses in one, jewels in the other, mothers little helpers, pills scattered everywhere.
There is always a ghost on standby ready to haunt me.. It’s like an old familiar melody.
I find no pleasure in any of these rooms. There are too many rooms, not enough signs and I am always losing myself in it.
Instead of running from my mind. I sit in the creaking rocking chair. Legs splayed,opening myself up to become possessed by anything .
They sit down on my favourite grey chaise longue and puff cigars that smell of lavender and twirl full bodied wine glasses filled with a deep maroon Beaujolais or à châteauneuf de pap.
I seem unable to move. I can’t move. If I could just ask them to leave .
One places a daisy chain on my head and tops up my glass of southern comfort. I’m sure I have stopped drinking. They know this as well as I do.
The irony is they are trying to make me live again. Drink if you must- anything to live, they urge….
This is their home. How can I cast them out?
They drain me, yes it is true, but they have been a part of my life, guarding me when I was still growing in my mothers womb.
I let them stay,
“SIT DOWN”., I say
Foreplay remnants stain the sheets on the various four poster beds. There is a new guy in town.
Has a bit of an opium habit. He hides away from everyone ,including me.
I have become desperate in my misery,
I seek him out .He won’t show himself.
I beg him to show me how. He can write the directions on a paper……
I think he cares. He doesn’t want me to go that far down.
I think if I am so far down the dragon’s pit;chasing ,what is a few more inches to the bottom?
Isn’t the bottom or top better than half way neither up or down?
I think he hid the ouija board too. He doesn’t want to be summoned because my will will break his……
In all honesty I think they all want the best for me. Oh of course they have their own agenda’s too.
They know how down I am but they need to go on outings too. They get bored so I get to be their cruise liner- my eyes are their oval windows ,to peer out of, their mode of transport, that shows them life still carries on even if they can’t be an active part of it.. ..
They called me a party pooper today. Sounds a bit lame.
They held a special party for me.
My least favourite party of all times- they all congregated in my drawing room whistling and pulling crackers and the incessant chatter nearly drove me out of the house.
Usually, the louder they are the quicker I try to escape – This time they lucked out. They will not help me find Opium boy.
I only want to escape with him.
I will continue to follow his musky scent until another scent sends my pulse quickening.
Another ghost starts to ask:
“Why do you want to be dead when your heart still beats?”
“Oh fuck off and cross over – you can live in my mansion of a mind but I will not be questioned – my mind my rules.” I reply
If I had gone would I have lost the scent of Opium boy?
Would I have cared?
Usually when I chase a boy that needs saving , I get into trouble….
And then there are the days when the rain has stopped.
sunshine will follow the rain.
By all accounts I should feel the warmth.
My smile aches.
My cheeks are strewn not by rain this time but more tears.
I feel a part of me dying. I think of all the tears I’ve overcome, the one I’ve mopped up.
I think about how other people struggle, and see them get up again and again until, one day they don’t.
In these twisted moments of my melancholy; my heart beats even faster- than when I’m even tempered.
I realise I won’t die from heart ache or an abundance of leaked tears.
I won’t dehydrate.
I won’t become the next corpse poised in fledgling flight to arouse its soul.
So many words and questions I wish to ask.
I answer them myself-in moments of cowardice . In these moments of despair, I search for strength.
I love to see people I care about prosper.
I cry because
.. I shouldn’t have regrets.. but I’m beginning to wonder if I should….
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